Kerstperiode Notebook | Koksijde and Zonhoven
I’m not above awe and wonder. I invite it. And maybe the thing that makes things awesome and wonderful is that you don’t see them every day. During my time covering cyclocross, I’ve been lucky to visit many of the monuments of the sport, but I can’t say that many of these places routinely inspire awe. The one that comes to mind is Koppenbergcross. And that is probably because of the history on the road and in cyclocross of the climb. Seeing and riding the Koppenberg in person was fantastic because the memories of what happened on that climb are part of why I love bike racing. And for the most part, my memories of that iconic place were created thousands of miles and one ocean away from the actual place. Nove Mesto on the mountain bike side was probably another. Seeing that venue on television was mind-blowing; seeing it in person on race day was more mind-blowing.
For most other venues, like Hoogerheide, Hulst, Baal, and many more, they have been cool to see, but in the end, they are just stages for the performances, not necessarily stars on their own. It’s like we constantly preach in these parts: the racers make the race.
For me, classic cyclocross venues are classic because of the epic battles. For instance, when I think of Hoogerheide, the first thing that comes to mind isn’t the stairway to heaven or the off-camber; it’s Stybar v. Nys. It’s Wout v. Mathieu. Those battles, and many like them, are what make Hoogerheide epic.
This is all to say that I got two heaping doses of venue-inspired awe and wonder in our last two stops of Kerstperiode: Koksijde and Zonhoven.
My first impression of Koksijde was great because I was in the press room, and they told me there was a shuttle to the finish line. [Ya hear that Hulst?]. Having never been there, I didn’t know if such a luxury was necessary (it turns out it wasn’t; the track is literally across the street from the press room), so I took the ride and got dropped off on the finishing straight, which admittedly is a good distance from the business part of the track.
From the finish line, it’s tough to get your bearings. You can see a few buildings that are part of the military base. You can see some trees, and you can see a vast flat field. Nothing screams “Welcome to the beach, friend! Come play in the sand.”
So I started to follow the track, and after a few wrong turns and false starts, I wandered out from behind a vacation cottage and saw the dunes and the two-way sand highway that is easily a top five (top three?) iconic feature. I’ll admit it, I got a little chill seeing it. Through being a fan of the sport, creating SVENESS videos and watching so many great races here, seeing this feature up close was cool. Getting to shoot the race was even cooler.
Thankfully, the fenced-off area between the two-way sand section and the flyover that houses the crane rigging for the broadcast was a haven for photographers. That little section was all I needed. I wandered to a few other places, but I knew for me and anybody I was shooting they wouldn’t use any photos other than the ones in the sand. It’s Koksijde, you need sand photos. Even if it’s a muddy Koksijde, the sand is what you’re there for. You can go to Loenhout to get mud, you go to Koksijde for the dunes.
I had a similar experience in Zonhoven. Our condo was under 30 minutes from the venue, so it was easy to head out the day before the race to get in a few riding recon laps for the riders and one walking recon lap for me.
The Zonhoven venue is a nature preserve, mountain bike park, and home of a dog training school. For Saturday’s practice session, we parked in the adjacent neighborhood and walked up a park road through a wooded area. Similar to Koksijde, I went into this venue blind. I had no idea where anything was located and just followed a random inclined trail through the woods for about a minute until it crested into a clearing. And there it was. De Kuil. Just a big effin’ sand pit in the middle of the park. A sand pit that looks like it was created by an asteroid hurling into Earth.
To get a little pedantic for a second, to call it a sand pit, is a little misleading. The steep hill that starts on the far side of the pit and wraps about a third of the way around is all sand. The remaining crater walls are dirt and roots, and the floor is mud. But sand is the predominant substance, so calling it a sand pit is more than acceptable.
Part of what makes De Kuil a top three (top one?) iconic feature in cyclocross is the crowds. The crowds are irrationally huge. It’s like a sellout at the Rose Bowl, and everyone has rushed the field.
Knowing what it will look like on Sunday is why seeing De Kuil without spectators on Saturday was a special moment. You could be tricked into thinking that the crowds were what made the venue iconic. I can tell you that is not the case. Even without people, De Kuil is breathtaking.
Now, once the people arrive, the place is completely off the charts. It is a party from minute one, with football chants, singing, cheering, and non-stop frivolity.
Crowd interactions this season haven’t always been the best, with some antagonistic fan and racer incidents marring otherwise great racing. None of that was evident at Zonhoven. The fans cheered everyone down the descent. The more hesitant back-markers appeared, the bigger cheers and encouragement they received. If you crashed, there was a jubilant “Ohhhh!” when you went down and an even louder eruption of cheers and positive vibes when you got back up and headed on your way. There was not one heckler in the bunch; if there was, the positive energy drowned them out.
Belgium is not the most welcoming place in the winter. The sun rises (but may never come out) after 9 am, and it’s already going back down by 2:30 pm. Constant rain and wind make every minute outside a challenge. It can wear you down. After six races in under two weeks, Zonhoven was the perfect capper for our stay—a feel-good finale to a great trip.
I’m back home for a few weeks before heading to the Hoogerheide World Cup and the World Championships in Tabor. It’s been fun sharing some Kerstperiode thoughts with you. If there’s anything else you’re curious about from behind the scenes at these events or something you’d like me to cover on my next trip, let me know in the comments.
Media Center Ratings:
Koksijde: Close to the venue on the military base, which meant access was limited so you weren’t fighting the crowds to get there. Good veggie sandwich options, bottled water, coffee, and plenty of space to work. Solid A.
Zonhoven: Located next to De Kuil in a dog training club that had their own bar. Cheese and bread sandwich option and drinks at the bar. Zonhoven attracts a big media crowd and the room was a bit cramped, but other than that, it was a nice set up. A-
Postscript:
I talked about the shoe choices in my Baal entry and my fascination with the white shoes at cyclocross flex. Here’s one of these Baalers in the wild.
These notebook entries are fun to read Bill! I guess I always knew you were a fan, but this gives me a better understanding of how much of a fan you are. It's cool. You have a way of adding to the romanticism of racing :)
Zonhoven.... The Cyclocross equivalent to seeing music at Red Rocks. It's own little Amphitheatre...So.....f'n cool. Chapeau Bill.