Hear from 3 of our members who took part in our club trip to Wevelgem to ride the epic In Flanders Fields - Wevelgem sportive. From fierce winds to a lack of coffee and iconic climbs, baffling payment options and lots of laughs, find out what a trip with Forge London CC is like.
First up we hear from Gabor A on his experience, and how it compares to other club trips to the sunny climbs of Mallorca.
A week-long cycling trip to Mallorca is arguably as good as it gets for a cycling holiday. The island offers three hundred days of sunshine a year, spectacular scenery, and buttery-smooth asphalt. With the delicacies of Spanish cuisine and an infrastructure tailored to cyclists, you are guaranteed to get your money’s worth every day.
Riding a “Monument,” however, is a different beast entirely. There is only one ride and only one shot. The weather is as punishing as it gets, the distances are soul-crushing, the lanes are narrow, and the climbs are cobbled. “Plugstreets” and betonweg are like distant, difficult relatives you simply cannot avoid. And if a mid-ride artisan espresso is high on your priority list, don’t even think about coming.
This year’s In Flanders Fields (formerly Gent-Wevelgem) lived up to its brutal reputation. Relentless head- and crosswinds left no place to hide, even within the bunch. At times, a solid FTP effort yielded a measly 25km/h, and that was only if you were tucked in at third wheel.
"It is these rides that forge a group of individuals into a team, a team that delivers a statement of unity that even the most hardened Flandriens acknowledge."
This year’s In Flanders Fields (formerly Gent-Wevelgem) lived up to its brutal reputation. Relentless head- and crosswinds left no place to hide, even within the bunch. At times, a solid FTP effort yielded a measly 25km/h, and that was only if you were tucked in at third wheel.
Undeterred by the gales, our group of twenty-odd Forge riders tackled the 125km and 225km routes. The “delicacies” served up this time included the cobbled Kemmelberg, the spiralling Baneberg, and a gruelling series of Plugstreet ascents and descents.
So, why do it at all?
Enduring the brutality of the weather isn’t the same as bowing to it. It’s about accepting the challenge with your head held high and rising to the occasion. It’s about stopping for a group photo by the sea and finding the energy to smile even while your quads are screaming.
It is these rides that forge a group of individuals into a team, a team that delivers a statement of unity that even the most hardened Flandriens acknowledge. These are the rides that create bonds transcending our everyday differences. You won’t find that in Mallorca.
Next we hear from Laura McM on some of the more “unique” aspects of the trip.
"Dinner was either a mountain of spaghetti bolognaise or a rival mountain of chips. Nutritionists everywhere would have been proud and horrified in equal measure."
Forge London CC does logistics the Belgian way: cram twenty‑odd cyclists, most of their bikes, and all of their optimism into a van and point it at the Eurotunnel. The trip began with an unexpectedly intense warm‑up session – waiting to board alongside hordes of balloon‑popping children freshly released for the Easter holidays. Eardrums were tested, patience was trained, and spirits somehow remained high. By the time we rolled off the train and into Belgium, we already felt like a team that had survived something together.
Our first night set the tone: heroic eating, mild confusion, and a strong sense that this was going to be memorable. Dinner was either a mountain of spaghetti bolognaise or a rival mountain of chips. Nutritionists everywhere would have been proud and horrified in equal measure. Payment, however, proved more challenging than digestion, with the provincial restaurant temporarily unconvinced by our methods of settling the bill. Eventually resolved, we retired full, happy, and slightly baffled, ready to enjoy the novelty of staying in the same stylish hotel as a professional cycling team, if only the bathrooms hadn’t featured doors made of polished concrete (or, arguably, the *absence* of doors). Perfection was so close.
"A March weekend in Belgium delivered everything it promised - wind, cobbles, history, suffering, laughter, and waffles - and Forge London CC delivered the rest."
Race day arrived in classic Flanders fashion: flat fields stretching forever, a tough headwind that never seemed to take a break, and crosswinds eager to remind everyone to hold their line. Riders took on either the mighty 225km or the “short” 125km version of the iconic race, tracing a route through the historic Flanders fields. We passed World War monuments and solemn plugstreets, caught glimpses of the sea, and bounced our way over legendary cobbles and classic climbs, with names that sound romantic until you’re riding them. A couple of early mechanicals tried to disrupt proceedings, but they were fixed quickly and efficiently, barely denting the momentum.
Out on the road, Forge jerseys became a moving reference point as other riders happily jumped onto our groups, grateful for shelter from the wind and a steady pace. Feed stations were enthusiastically “sampled”, with many waffles consumed, plenty of bananas inhaled, and energy drink levels kept reassuringly high. Gabor T briefly considered taking an entire box of waffles home as a souvenir, while the complete absence of coffee caused genuine disappointment, particularly for our chair, Rach G, who never got her caffeine fix. Paddy O’C, meanwhile, enjoyed a personal victory by actually following the route this time, a triumph warmly celebrated by all. Post‑race, we enjoyed thoroughly well‑deserved beers, proudly collected medals, and, if luck was on your side, a coveted event T‑shirt. The next day we watched the men’s race unfold in almost perfect conditions, enjoying sunshine beers overlooking the fields before heading back to London, blissfully free of Easter‑holiday children.
As tired legs rolled back to the hotel and stories were compared, one thing was clear: the weekend had been a huge success. Massive credit goes to Stephen, who did an outstanding job organising the whole trip, from transport to accommodation to making sure everyone got to the start line ready to ride. A March weekend in Belgium delivered everything it promised – wind, cobbles, history, suffering, laughter, and waffles – and Forge London CC delivered the rest. Next time, we’ll bring coffee. And maybe request bathroom doors.
And finally, Graham B talks training and brutal crosswinds.
With great fear and trepidation, I signed up for this event with just three months to go before hitting the start line. Not only would it be my first event with Forge, but also my first Belgian adventure. What could possibly go wrong?
"The seasoned Forge Flandriens quickly put a rigorous training plan in place, with a solid run of Saturday rides that steadily increased in distance."
As it turned out, not much at all. The seasoned Forge Flandriens quickly put a rigorous training plan in place, with a solid run of Saturday rides that steadily increased in distance. They built not just fitness, but the confidence I’d need for the big day.
Riding from 110 to more than 200 kilometres, Drift Road became our friend as we clocked countless training miles west and northwest of Kingston, visiting such café hotspots as Pangbourne, Stoke Row, Abingdon and more. Each ride became a chance to refine fuelling strategies and practice well‑timed food stops, setting us up perfectly for a smooth, well‑organised effort in Belgium.
"Those first 30 kilometres introduced us to the notorious Belgian “block headwind” that would accompany us all day."
After travelling with our bikes via Le Shuttle, and fuelled by what may well have been the most expensive hotel breakfast in Belgium, we made our slightly chaotic way to the start line. The plan was simple: ride to Ypres, quickly refuel, and then split into two groups for the remainder.
Those first 30 kilometres introduced us to the notorious Belgian “block headwind” that would accompany us all day. With added crosswinds, watts were high and speed was respectable. We ticked off the kilometres along canal paths, farm tracks, sea fronts, and cobbles, passing the many First World War sites scattered along the route.
After 150 kilometres of flat terrain, the hills finally arrived, with the Baneberg and the Kemmelberg (at 156m, the highest point in West Flanders) trying their best to finish me off. But they failed, and after being spat out the other side, it was heads down all the way back to Wevelgem and the finish line.
Medals around our necks, we rolled back to the hotel, Forge Flandriens every one of us. Will I do it again? Definitely/Maybe… (Definitely!)
A great trip all round and a massive thank you to Stephen R for organising everyone, hiring the van, driving the van, booking the restaurants (confusing or otherwise), and making sure everyone was where they were supposed to be. Our club runs on the hard work of volunteers putting things together, so massive kudos!
Same again next year?!
