About three years ago I met the most wonderful person in the world.  All that needs to be said.

Anyone who knows me certainly knows my love for the Ronde, this year was my sixth in person. And anyone who loves the Ronde has feelings on the monumental changes this year. For the weekend I left happy, the best rider won of course and we saw more of the race than in the past. We lost the stories of chasing over the countryside, traffic jams, talking your way into a parking spot, telling the driver "he's on the course!" when that's the last thing he wants to hear. Fun stories but less fun to deal with on the day; why Roubaix is watched on TV these days. We gained a relaxed day, talking to people we knew and new faces as well.

Planted on the Kwaremont in the same spot I've had for years made the day seem like the years I've watched the race. The first fun of the day, and what I would honestly say the best, was the kids ride up the hill. Kids barely taller than the wheels under them going up, some getting a push and some needing one. The ladies come by next, oddly still quiet on the hill. Then the men three times, each time more noise. Not the noise we've come to expect on the Muur. A different noise, one that hovers over the hill rather than thunders along the wall.

Is it better or worse? It's certainly different, you see the race now as you can run to the big screen between loops but you don't feel the race. Standing on the Kwaremont for the day feels the same as on the Koppenberg for the 'cross race. Good but something was missing. Maybe the pattern of tradition is what makes a memory a requirement for the future. Will I be back next year? Of course, it is the Ronde after all, but as the race has changed maybe I need to change with it. The day needed a feeling; not dashing to the second same spot as year's before left the day without balance.

The preceding day's sportiv is equally important in the weekend. The new route is about as perfect of a ride in Flanders as one could come up with. There is a flow along the land; just enough up, down and rattle to make the senses come alive. As much as I've ridden in the area, all the familiar hills and valleys I can't think of a better day on the bike. I wonder if Saturday's ride created feeling which Sunday's race couldn't live up to. . .

I couldn't resist a second photo of the nice lady handling course marshall duty in Oudenaarde. Of course at race time she was all business.

Must be springtime in Belgie . . .