THE WORLD CHAMPS IN OUR BACKYARD
With photos fresh from the darkroom, Lana reflects on her roadtrip to the 2022 Cycling World Champs.
SECTIONS
I: WOMEN'S ROAD RACE
II: MEN'S ROAD RACE
“Why am I even going?”
…was a thought that entered my mind more times than I can count on the 1,300km drive from Adelaide to Wollongong to watch the road World Championships last year.
Over the past few years I’ve ridden less and less, lost fitness, and overall lost most of my excitement for being on two wheels recreationally (when I’m kind to myself I remember this steep downward slide coincides with having back surgery in 2020, also strongly hampered by my inability to get out of bed). But hey, World Champs doesn’t happen in your backyard very often and the chance of seeing Wout Van Aert’s thighs in person was too exciting an idea to resist. My partner Max and I hatched a plan with Nat Redmond who hooked us up with a week in DREAM accommodation (courtesy Nat’s aunt and uncle’s “humble farmstay”, seriously, stay there). A quick 18-hour pitstop in Canberra to visit the NGA sealed the deal and I decided the long drive to the silly big bike race might just be worth it. Taking a knife to a gunfight, my trusty Contax point & shoot captured some mementos of the trip.
II: WOMEN'S ROAD RACE
We started our day by driving the 75km from Exeter, over the twists & turns of Macquarie Pass and to the outskirts of Wollongong opting to train into the city. Without much of a plan of where to go, we walked the (strange, quite empty) streets of the ‘gong. After wondering, we chanced upon a thriving corner just in time for the bunch to go through. Buzzed from the energy, we pulled out the map and decided to walk the 4km stretch to Ramah Ave - the steepest part of the race and where the action would be.
Along the way we heard the helicopter indicating the bunch wasn’t far off, positioning ourselves on a bridge overlooking the road that snaked around and came past us. Lined with spectators on either side, this was the first moment the expanse of the race hit me. It’s amazing what the feeling of seeing the riders in person does to you. As Annemiek led the bunch over the bridge and swooshed straight past us, I couldn’t help but get overwhelmed. My eyes glowing and skin covered in goosebumps, the best female road cyclists in the world had just brushed past me within arms reach and everything I love about women’s sport hit me.
Fully feeling the rush at this point, we picked up the pace and got ourselves to Ramah Ave. The vibe on the hill was electric. Folks had embraced the race and had dressed their houses in world flags, hand painted signs, and balloons of all colours. We ascended the hill with each lap and eventually settled next to an amazing house (shout out to the homeowners!) who had a tv with the race live stream, eskys full of drinks and music pumping. Best on the hill went to the group of teenage girls who danced and sang for the length of the entire race, having the time of their lives. On the last laps it started raining, whilst still pleasantly warm, which seemed to make the vibes on the hill even stronger. As we watched Annemiek get separated in front of us on the final climb by the piercing attacks, we cheered on every rider going past, and then huddled around the tv to watch the thrilling end of the race unfold. There was something very special in sharing this experience with strangers bursting with suspense and joy and screaming together at the tv. It was an intoxicating feeling.
III: MEN'S ROAD RACE
The previous day worked out so well we decided to repeat it: drive, train, walk, stop for the bunch to whoosh past a few times and get to the hill. The bunch was bigger and faster, and it took nearly half the race before I even spotted Wout’s butt and could tick that off my bucket list (the same couldn't be said about Van Der Poel after the morning's drama).
The crowd was triple that of the day before and the hill was a throbbing hive of people. Being Australia and not Europe, you could still get a primo front row spot for spectating without much trouble. The good vibes were nearly extinguished when a group of guys who had clearly been drinking for the past 5 hours got into a row with a lady who told them off for pissing in public (you tell ‘em!), but luckily 500m up the hill a bunch of teenagers with a full live band were jamming to rock’n’roll hits in their front yard and got the energy back on track.
The race was pretty boring (sorry not sorry) and we just soaked up the vibe, enjoyed the spectator antics, and put most of our energy into cheering on not-so-local Malta hero Dan Bonello with the rest of the crowd. Big Ev finished off the race, an elderly Belgian couple cried with joy, and the Solvenian team soigneur hanging out in our corner seemed not at all surprised by the result.
