Well, I arrived in Scotland yesterday morning and I’m happy to be back. I had a good experience in Germany, but Glasgow feels closer to home. Even though I only spent nine days in Germany, I can say that I honestly prefer the UK. It’s messier, louder, and somehow seems more real to me.
The Glaswegians, as they say, “Walk fast, talk fast and drink fast.” For example, it’s not uncommon in Glasgow to hear someone yelling obscenities on the street if a Glaswegian’s feathers have been ruffled. The Scots (and the English too, as I’ve heard) are aggressive and upfront as a culture and with each other. From a day to day perspective, the Germans gave me the impression of being much more reserved in speech and action, at least while sober. I don’t know if one would ever hear someone spouting the equivalent to the f-word on a street in Germany...
Bike racing, is something I also prefer in Scotland. I attended day two of the Dortmund six-day with my friend Stefan. I was very excited to go because I’d heard that the atmosphere was incredible. As Stefan and I approached the Westfallenhallen complex where the event was being held, music pulsated from the building. Standing outside, I didn’t feel as if I were about to enter a bike race. There were people everywhere, most drunk and ready for a party. A huge television screen broadcasted the racing near the entrance. In America, a production of this magnitude is reserved only for a football or baseball game, and I was happy to see such an extravagant event for cycling.
Stefan and I walked into the stadium during one of the first pro madisons of the night. It was incredible to watch Erik Zabel and his partner Leif Lampater ramp it up among the excellent Swiss team and other racers. The riders were cranking front chain rings bigger than pancakes, and their bikes were amazingly cool. I was very impressed.
But despite the incredible athleticism of the racers and relentless race program, the atmosphere just didn’t jive with me. I couldn’t get into the loud music, the lights, the blues brothers car driving around the track. For me, it was all so distracting. Maybe I’m a purist, but I JUST want to see racing. I want to hear the racer’s breathing, I want to be outside yelling and screaming and running next to the field cheering racers up hills. I want tons of other spectators to be involved and cheering next to me...
I’ve seen pictures where the complex was filled completely to the brim with spectators cheering the racers on, but on the night that I went the stands were only a third full. While wandering through the building several hours later I found out where everyone was – drinking beer and dancing in the discotheque just outside the stadium. I guess I expected the infamous, and stereotypical, crazy European bike racing fans – the kind who actually buy tickets to watch the racing. I know that there are tons of people who love this stuff – the multifaceted nature of the event, the partying, etc. But by the time midnight rolled around I was ready to leave.
After watching the six-day I realized that one of my favourite parts about racing is just being outside. I loved the Mountain Bike World Championships at Fort William. I hiked all the way to the top of the mountain and sat in the heather watching the racers go by. I cheered with some drunk Englishmen in the rain. The scenery in the middle of the highlands was breathtaking. Blaine is also wonderful for that very same reason, and not to sound too cheesily romantic, but I like to ride underneath the lights at night and watch the sky change colors. I think that I even like the mosquitos. Perhaps I’ll go roll in the mud at a cross race and call it quits – but this brand of racing just wasn’t my thing.
Xoxooxoxo
Steph
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