French classic: The "Hell of the North"
Paris-Roubaix may not be the hardest cycling race in the world, but it is the toughest. There are hardly any hills in the way of the riders and yet the race has truly earned the nickname "Hell of the North". The riders have to ride for kilometres over the most brutal cobblestones, the so-called pavés. However, the name did not come about because the race is hell for the riders, but during an inspection of the route after the First World War. The destruction of the region, which was characterised by the textile industry, was horrifying, millions of people had died and one reporter wrote of the "Hell of the North".
As a rider, you either hate Paris-Roubaix or you love it. Bernard Hinault hated it. "Paris-Roubaix est une connerie!", loosely translated: "Paris-Roubaix is bollocks", the Frenchman used to say. Of course, that didn't stop him from winning the race in 1981. After the award ceremony, he pressed the cobblestone that every winner receives as a trophy into the hand of his sports director and said with disdain: "Here's your fucking stone."
Some of the pavés, which are now listed buildings, are around 150 years old. John Degenkolb, the 2015 winner, once said that you have to imagine it as if you were banging against the kerb the whole time. Rolf Aldag, now sports director at Red Bull - BORA - hansgrohe, said: "It's actually rubbish and not a bike race, but modern gladiatorial gymnastics." And Chris Boardman echoed this sentiment, saying: "It's a circus. I understand why the spectators love the race. But I don't want to be one of the clowns."
The most curious stories about the one-day race
The première in 1896 was won by a German, Josef Fischer. His lead was so great that Fischer completed the final laps of the velodrome with a glass of champagne in his hand. Before that, however, he had to survive two scary moments. Firstly, a horse broke out of the pasture and Fischer was only just able to avoid the horse. A few kilometres later, cows blocked the path of the eventual winner. Of course, Paris-Roubaix has also written countless stories. Take Roger Lapébie, for example: he had a defect a few kilometres before the finish, grabbed a spectator's bike and managed the seemingly impossible. He caught up with the leaders and won the sprint. But the good Lapébie had rejoiced too soon. He was disqualified because the regulations in 1934 did not yet permit a wheel change.
In 1949, the leading group was led the wrong way by a confused marshal just before the cycling track. But the racers found a side entrance and the Frenchman André Mahé won the race. After the Italian Serse Coppi had won the sprint of the chasers, his brother, the great Fausto Coppi, protested against the classification. The race stewards upheld the protest and declared Coppi and Mahé joint winners.
Perhaps the most unlucky rider in the history of the Monument is Thomas Wegmüller. The Swiss rider was the first to turn onto the Roubaix racecourse in 1988, just a few metres away from cycling immortality - with the Belgian Dirk Demol, the much weaker sprinter of the two, behind him. But then Wegmüller blew a plastic bag into his chain, he was unable to change gear properly before the final sprint and Demol won instead.
Love-hate relationship with Paris-Roubaix
The love-hate relationship with Paris-Roubaix is still widespread among professionals, which is certainly also due to the fact that the race has hardly changed in 123 years and the anachronistic chase over a road surface unsuitable for racing bikes is still the main challenge. The Belgian Theo de Rooij once summarised it like this after a crash in 1985: "This race is a joke. You plough like an animal. You're covered in mud up to your shoulders. You don't even have time to pee, you wet your pants. It's a pile of shit. And it's the most wonderful race in the world!"
