The unpleasant anachronism of the Cycling Monuments
There is a reason, obviously, why they called that. The five most prestigious one-day races, traditionally called Monuments, are carrying history. Sometimes not just road cycling history but they also remind us of pivotal moments from the history of Europe in the 20th century.
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| In 1981, Bernard Hinault delivered a spectacular Paris-Roubaix victory fuelled rather with anger and frustration. After the race he called Paris-Roubaix a bullshit |
All the five Monuments was born in the first great era of road cycling competitions ended with the outbreak of Word War I. Liege-Bastogne-Liege, a classic amateur cycling tourist adventure in 1892, Paris-Roubaix, a typical French cycling enterprise in 1896, the two Italian (more precisely, and not coincidently at all, two Lombardian) events, Giro di Lombardia in 1905, Milano-Sanremo 1907, and finally, Ronde van Vlaanderen in 1913, these latter three following the French recipe too, as newspapers were heavily involved in the founding process of them.
They all are carrying the typical elements, although in different mixtures, of why road cycling races were established in those days.
(Although Ronde van Vlaanderen seems a bit too young comparing to the other four, the reason why it has established as one the five greatest one-day races is rather related to the fact how Belgian cyclists have always played a significant role in the history of one-day races.)
One of the key elemens often mentioned when it comes to explain what the Monuments in the world of road cycling competitions are, that they are all significantly longer than the usual routes of modern day road cycling, usually between 250 and 300 km.
Today they seem extreme monstreous, but, ironically, they weren't unusual long in the early days at all. Even Tour de France had several stages over 400 km during the first 2-3 decades of its history.
Nevertheless the long routes of the Monuments are reminders of one of the fundamental reasons why road cycling competitions were organised:
to prove the endurance of this new vehicle to the future customers.
This visualisation is best conserved in the reception of Paris-Roubaix when fans are saying
the muddier the better.
The most iconic images capturing the essence of Paris-Roubaix are cyclists being unrecognisable due to the dust and/or mud of the route through the cobbled roads of Northern France.
Recently, the more I think about it, the more I get annoyed, but there is something unsettling in this aspect of road cycling competition with long history.
