The magic of LiègeBastogne-liège
One of the oldest cycle races in history is also one of the toughest, fought out by the hardest of the hard
Cycling’s one-day Classics specialists are a breed apart; usually Belgians and Dutchmen and always described as ‘hard men’. Mention of them conjures up images of wizened faces, old before their time – stocky types from working-class backgrounds for whom cycling was an escape from a different life. All of which is often pretty close to the truth.
Then cycling has its climbers: willowy man-children – many of them so frail in appearance that they really do look as though they wouldn’t survive a harsh winter, and that they might struggle to catch a ball, let alone compete in one of the world’s toughest sports.
But, highly tuned athletes as they are, when you put Liège-bastogne-liège in front of them, neither of these specimens lick their lips. This Belgian one-day race
appeals to another, less easy-todefine group: that of the ‘all-rounder’.
Liège is one of the oldest cycling events still in existence, having first been staged in 1892 when it was won by Belgian Léon Houa, who also won the following two editions. It’s deservedly one of bike racing’s five so-called Monuments, along with Milan-san Remo, the Tour of Flanders, ParisRoubaix and the Tour of Lombardy one-day races. These are the kind of races that, if you ever win one, you’ll never have to buy drinks in any of the local pubs and bars again, especially if you’re a Belgian winner in Liège.
While Paris-roubaix might have earned the moniker of ‘Queen of the Classics’, Liège has the only-slightly lesser nickname of ‘La Doyenne’, for which another French term is perhaps the best translation: ‘The Grande Dame’.
It’s also one of the three Ardennes Classics, all held within a week of each other – the other two being Flèche Wallonne, also in Belgium, and the Amstel Gold Race, held in the Limburg province of the Netherlands (not strictly in the Ardennes). The Ardennes is an area of climbs and forests, straddling the south of Belgium, France and Luxembourg. It’s perfect bike-racing country to attract those all-rounders – a rare breed in cycling, which has become increasingly a sport of specialisation.
An ancient Monument
Take 2014 Liège winner Simon Gerrans, for example, an ‘Aussie battler’ who has won week-long stage races such as the Tour of Denmark and the Tour Down Under, and also boasts an impressive turn of speed at the end of long, tough one-day events. Whether the Australian would still have won last year if it hadn’t been for the defending champion Dan Martin’s heartbreaking crash is up for debate.
Having won in 2013 after getting the better of Katusha’s Joaquim Rodriguez in the final 500m, the Irishman was in the mix again as part of a larger group in 2014. He was arguably in the perfect position, riding on the wheel of another Katusha rider, Giampaolo Caruso, as they went around the final left-hand bend with 300m to go. But Martin hit a patch of diesel and went down hard, and, in the mêlée that followed, Gerrans was able to swallow up Caruso in the final few metres.
Aside from Martin, Sean Kelly is the only other Irishman to have won the race: in both 1984 and 1989. As a commentator for Eurosport, there are few people better positioned to describe what it ’s like to ride.
Kelly was a sprinter who could also climb, as demonstrated by his Vuelta a Espana victory in 1988. He was the ‘King of the Classics’ in the 1980s and early ’90s, winning MilanSan Remo twice, Ghent-wevelgem, Paris-roubaix twice and the Tour of Lombardy three times. ‘King Kelly’ really could win ’em all.
‘If you’re in good shape and going well, Liège is the sort of race in which you can follow the wheels, and then, with all the hills at the end, it becomes an elimination process,’ he tells Cyclist.
This is a race littered with amazing climbs, although they’re apparently less amazing when you’re the one taking them at full gas on race day. The pick of the bunch is La Redoute. Not the mail-order clothing company, but arguably Liège’s signature climb, which was introduced to the race route in 1975 and rears up in front of the riders inside the last 50km. Thousands of fans congregate on its slopes each year, hoping that it will be the springboard for their favourite rider.
‘Yes, it’s quite steep,’ Kelly says of its average gradient of almost 9% over two kilometres, and its eye-watering 17% maximum gradient. ‘There’s still a long way to go from here, but you can guarantee that it’s going to split the field,’ adds Kelly.
Just how significant a role the climb plays depends a lot on the weather conditions and the race tactics up to this point. ‘Some years you get a really aggressive race early on. In other years they don’t race so much until the final 70 or 80km,’ says Kelly. ‘But if you come to La Redoute with a big peloton, you can guarantee it won’t stay together, so positioning is very important on such narrow roads. You need to try to be in the front 10 to 15 riders, which creates
‘Positioning is very important on such narrow roads. You need to try to be in the front 10 to 15 riders, which creates a lot of panic and a lot of fighting for space’
a lot of panic and a lot of fighting for space before the climb. It’s one of the most important parts of the race.’
A new ending
Since 1992 the race has finished just outside Liège, between the city centre and the airport, a change that makes the finale more difficult. ‘It’s different now because we always finished in Liège, where the final 15km were downhill, and then flat, into the city, whereas now they finish with a climb up to Ans,’ says Kelly.
‘The real test before the final climb up to the finish is the Côte de SaintNicolas,’ he says. ‘If you’re with maybe 30 or 40 riders at the start of that climb, by the top it’ll be down to around 10, and you’ll have to start thinking about the sprint, or about trying to get away on that final climb.
‘It’s certainly a race for all-rounders,’ he says. ‘The climbs, although tough, aren’t really long enough for pure climbers to get away on, and so the race often comes down to a sprint.
‘It’s more of a puncheur who can win Liège,’ Kelly confirms, referring to the French term coined for riders like Simon Gerrans. No translation necessary.
Kelly’s Liège wins in 1984 and 1989 helped solidify his reputation as one of the best-ever Classics riders, but he was also there in 1980 when French fivetime Tour de France winner Bernard Hinault braved freezing conditions and heavy snow, winning in Liège by almost 10 minutes from Dutchman Hennie Kuiper and Belgium’s Ronny Claes. Two of Hinault’s fingers have apparently never fully recovered from the cold.
‘I can definitely understand that,’ Kelly says, remembering what was a painful day on the bike for everyone after snow started to fall heavily around 10 kilometres after the start.
‘It wasn’t long before riders started to turn back, making a U-turn and just heading back to Liège,’ Kelly says. ‘And it just got worse as the day went on – it was really, really cold. In the end I climbed off with 20km to go.’ Only 21 riders finished — the last of those, Norway’s Jostein Wilmann, 27 minutes down on Hinault.
What chance of snow this year?
In 1980 five-time Tour de France winner Bernard Hinault braved freezing conditions and heavy snow, winning by almost 10 minutes. Two of his fingers have never recovered