Cervélo Soloist: Riding the bike of the Visma pros over the cobblestones of Roubaix

There are people whose list of life goals should look like this: Build a house, father a child, plant a tree - and win Paris-Roubaix. John Degenkolb is probably one of them. But not me. Two of these points are missing from my list. One of them is Paris-Roubaix.

However, the sheer absurdity of the idea of being able to ride in the motorcade is only one of the reasons for this. Another: I already have a cobblestone trophy in my display case at home. Okay, it's only from a company relay race around the church tower. But if I were to take off the engraved plaque and ... well.

Even though Paris-Roubaix is first and foremost a TV event for me, the thought that an amateur cyclist actually needs a good portion of cobblestones that goes beyond those on the local marketplace resonates with me every year. As luck would have it, the opportunity arose this year to take part in the Paris-Roubaix Challenge, the amateur race. Arriving in style at the velodrome and riding over the worst pavés. And all this just before the women's professional race.

Finally on a Cervélo

The whole thing got even better when it became clear that I wouldn't have to ride my own Fondriest carrot over the pavement, but would be provided with a real racing bike. And not just any bike. Ever since Ivan Basso and Fabian Cancellara won with the CSC team on the Cervélo R3 in the mid-2000s, it was clear to me that I wanted to ride one of these fast Canadian bikes at some point. Unfortunately, for budget reasons, nothing has materialised to date.

Fortunately, the budget didn't play the main role in the Roubaix campaign. And so I was actually given the opportunity to tackle the cobbles on the new Cervélo Soloist. The fact that the guys and girls from Team Visma | Lease a Bike would also be racing on these machines proves that this bike is more than suitable for this terrain.

And so the anticipation of 6 April developed - right up to the point when I realised that I would somehow have to turn up in halfway presentable form. The beginning of April! Here in the far north, right on the Baltic coast, as a fair and, above all, warm weather cyclist, I've barely completed my first kilometres on the road in normal years. Never at a loss for excuses, I had a lot on my mind. The actual build-up of form is always aimed at the climax in August, when, as always, the aim is to distance my colleague at the altitude training camp on the Brocken in order to then reach for the KOM at the Silo in Kröpelin at home, which is only four seconds away, because the best time in the forest segment of the cooling is awarded to André Greipel for all times anyway. The new tarmac won't change that.

First stop: Arenberg forest

Then there was the difficult late winter. Do you know what a tympanic effusion is? I didn't know either. I just about survived it, but all those hours on the roll beforehand were of course completely wasted. I'd have been better off not looking at the medium-term weather forecast: Continuous rain and 13 degrees. Basically, everything was ready for the worst.

But firstly, things usually turn out differently, and secondly, than you think. Together with Cervélo's PR and communications man Max Schumann, who had organised the opportunity, we set off for France. First stop on the Friday before the race: Arenberg. Probably the most famous and infamous cobblestone section of the race, including its new chicane, was our first destination, especially as we had opted for the short 70-kilometre route in the Challenge, which avoided the forest.

We parked the VW bus on the large car park in front of the iconic Arenberg coal mine - next to countless camper vans that had already brought masses of Belgians the short distance across the border. The weather was fine by now, the sun was shining. The strong wind had blown the feared rain out of the region shortly before our arrival around midday. We first set off on foot over the cobbles to get a first feel for the actual roughness of the surface.

We found gaps between some stones that would easily swallow up 32-millimetre tyres and sharp edges that would put undue strain on any front wheel. While we were analysing the situation, the pros from the Team Movistar passed us on their training ride - pretty unimpressed. The amateur riders, who were also at the start, didn't seem quite as confident. Other teams followed and we decided to do the same.

At the start through the Bernard Hinault sector

I had been able to contain my curiosity about the new bike until then, but now the moment had come. Max got the Cervélo out of the bus - a gold one. Of course. No pressure at all. The last pro to ride with an all-gold frame was probably the 2016 Olympic champion Greg Van Avermaet. But he only brought out his BMC with special paintwork for special occasions.

But: this was actually a special occasion. After all, I, the road purist who only knows mountain bikes or gravel bikes from hearsay, had to ride over real cobblestones for the first time in my life. Perhaps the most dreadful in all of professional cycling. We were still puzzling over the best possible tyre pressure. While Max started off very sparingly with less than three bar, the 4.5 or so was clearly too much for me, as it turned out a little later.

But first we had a few gentle kilometres to warm up. We rode to Wallers and then decided to make the cobbled section towards Haveluy our first. It was the Bernard Hinault sector, named after the last French Tour de France winner. It has four stars on the shake-and-rattle scale and at 2.5 kilometres is one of the longer ones. At Paris-Roubaix, it is traditionally the last pavé before Arenberg.

We rode it in both directions. The fact that it shook my water bottle right out of its holder was not the first impression I had hoped for. Max was cleverer and hadn't even taken one with him. In addition to the rough pavement, there were also a few puddles that the wind had not yet been able to dry out after the morning's heavy showers. On the actual ideal line in the centre of the road, where the stones are still closest together and there are few gaps - which are the real problem - it was muddy and even overgrown in places.

The Soloist: Precise control and good comfort

But with the usual tips for riding over cobblestones - stay seated, pedal big gears and, of course, ride as fast as you can - it somehow worked. Curiously, it was even a bit of fun. But that must have been down to the bike and its equipment.

Within the brand cosmos, the Cervélo Soloist is the road bike for those who can't decide between the lightweight R5 for the mountains and the aero version S5. Or simply appreciate all-round qualities. The lack of specialisation is the reason why the Soloist was not conceived by the manufacturer as a professional bike, but as an alternative for the race-oriented amateur sector. The fact that Visma | Lease a Bike nevertheless used it for Roubaix and that Wout van Aert is said to have considered the Soloist for the Tour of Flanders before he was unable to compete due to a crash speaks in its favour.

Precise steering is a particular advantage on the unpredictable surface. If you recognise rocky edges that are particularly unfriendly to tyres in good time, which is not always easy due to the vibrations, you can steer around them precisely with the Soloist, as the bike moves exactly as it is commanded via the handlebars without any delays.

What makes the bike just as attractive on the rough pavement is a good dose of comfort despite its stiffness. However, the spare wheels and tyres have probably also contributed to this. At 28 millimetres, I was riding narrower than the pros, who opted for 32 millimetres. The frameset could even accommodate up to 34 millimetres. In any case, the combination was enough to get me through most of the cobbled sections without any major problems or even pain. Even double handlebar tape to protect the wrists was not necessary.

Almost overtaken by the world champion

The exception: Arenberg. After our warm-up, we made our way back to Arenberg and headed for the forest. Of course, we also rode through the chicane. After 300 metres of the nastiest cobbles, we were slowed down again. Max was perhaps a little too aggressive and picked up a stone during an overtaking manoeuvre off the racing line, which was too much for the front tyre.

Fortunately, the mobile workshop wasn't too far away. We were able to push all the way to the bus and think about a few more details on the way, which mainly centred around the air pressure. In the end, we both went into the second attempt with about 3.5 bar. And I had tightened my helmet a little more.

As we were about to turn back onto the road to the forest, a rider in white trousers and a white jersey whistled past in front of us. Including rainbow stripes. There were plenty of world champions on the course - which was good, because the golden wheel didn't stand out quite so much - but this was unmistakably the real thing: Mathieu van der Poel had entered the five-star sector just before us. There were no team-mates or a support car to be seen for miles around. Presumably he was already rehearsing the real thing and wanted to test the forest under solo conditions. It was a shame that we hadn't left the bus 30 seconds earlier. The world champion is one of the few people I wouldn't have minded overtaking.

Detour to "Dege"

On our second attempt, we passed the Arenberg forest without any further difficulties. While one legend was long out of sight, we set off to meet the next one. The good thing about it: she couldn't get away from us. That's because John Degenkolb has had his own sector since 2020 - the first professional rider ever to still be active. After saving the youth race a year earlier through a crowdfunding campaign, he was honoured by the Les Amis de Paris-Roubaix association, which works to preserve the historic cobbles.

It is the next but one section after Arenberg and also has another four stars, but this is probably due more to its length of 3700 metres - the longest in the race - than the roughness of the surface. As it turned out later, 'Dege' himself had fallen on the same day after "jostling" with his team-mates in his sector.

However, we didn't get too close and made it through the quad and another section without falling before we started our way back. A festival atmosphere awaited us at the bus. In our absence, several tents were set up in the car park, music was blaring from speakers and there was food of all kinds. However, we stuck to classic sports food, i.e. jelly babies, which were destined for the jersey pockets the next morning, and made our way to Roubaix.

Red is red

Because the Paris-Roubaix Challenge awaited on Saturday. Instead of rain, the forecast was for 25 degrees and plenty of sunshine. But the almost-Jan-Ullrich weather was quickly thwarted by Sahara dust, which replaced the sun with clouds. But at least it was dry, which was certainly not to the detriment of the throng of sometimes inexperienced riders - some of whom started on city bikes.

However, I had also expected more mischief in this weather, after all 6000 riders were pushing their way along the route. And we were also travelling in flowing traffic. However, the roughest sections of pavement were closed to cars, while on the others the population had largely adapted to the horde of cyclists and refrained from using cars. And generally speaking, the French provinces - not to be confused with Provence - aren't all that busy.

What there were, however, were numerous defects. There was hardly a section where athletes weren't standing at the side of the road, turning their bikes upside down and tinkering with them. We had a good overview, as we were among the last riders to start the race right next to the velodrome between 9am and 11am. This wasn't originally planned, but in the end it turned out to be a good thing.

Eight cobbled sectors still awaited us, including another five-star sector with Carrefour de l'Arbre. But with the experience of the previous day, even this was relatively easy to ride. However, it had become quite crowded just before the end of the race, so it was not always possible to keep to the racing line and we also had to pass one or two danger spots according to the motto 'close your eyes and ride through'. At least that was my motto. Mountain biker Max had fewer worries anyway.

What could be more motivating than being accompanied for a while by a two-and-a-half metre tall banana screaming in French?

A little disillusionment in the velodrome

But what probably also helped was the atmosphere. Carrefour de l'Arbre was already full of people on the roadside, some of them already in costume, especially in the last few metres. They were already in position to cheer on the women, who were still almost three hours away at this point. So the fans also cheered us amateurs on as if we were hurtling over the pavement at 40 km/h. And, hand on heart: what could be more motivating than being accompanied by a two-and-a-half metre tall banana screaming French?

I can't think of anything, so Carrefour de l'Arbre was at least my highlight. But that's also because Roubaix, or rather the velodrome itself, didn't live up to expectations. Not only was it much quieter there. Above all, the route was not as it should have been. This is hardly possible on a simple oval. Unless you drive it the "wrong way round". Instead of driving round to the right like the pros, we were directed to the left. And before the astonishment was properly digested, it was already over. Because we didn't do one and a half laps, but only half a lap.

This brings us back to the realisation I had to make a few paragraphs ago. Firstly, things turn out differently, and secondly, than you think. In any case, what went exactly as I had imagined - apart from the colour of course - was my golden companion. Two days over cobblestones without a defect is certainly not down to my riding skills. But rather the quality of the bike, which proved indestructible even with a mud pack.