Cycling in Montréal Trip Report

I’ll admit, I’m riding faster than I should be. We are riding in downtown Montreal, the day before the Montreal UCI road race. The section of the bike path we are on is going under a highway overpass that is under construction. Both directions of the path are shoved together to fit claustrophobically into an optimistically tight corridor that is confined on either side by chain-link fences. I should really slow down; there are way too many people out, and I don't feel too inspired by the competence of my peers on this path to not crash into me.

Approaching is a caution sign that takes up almost all of my already limited space on the half of this chain-link alley that is dedicated to my direction of travel. After a second of acknowledgment, my attention shifts from the caution sign to the group of riders who are riding quickly in my direction in a paceline. I note a few things; firstly, they look like they are the Jumbo-Visma team; secondly, they are moving quite fast, especially for this path; and finally, I can’t believe that Wout Van Aert is riding at the front of the group. The group and I are getting closer quickly, and as we are, I can confirm all of these things, but one more thing jumps out at me, and that is we are going to intersect the right choke point of the sign.

I do some more mental calculations and, based on each of our speeds and proximity to the caution sign, I am going to get there just before the team will. I look back straight forward at the sign and I’m waiting until I'm close to it—and, now, I swerve into the oncoming lane of the path and go for the pass around the encroaching sign. Now that I am in the other lane, my attention goes back to Van Aert and his team, and they are coming at me fast. It only takes a moment to get around the sign, and I make it back into my lane of the path right before the line of riders whiz by me. Oh, the looks of vexation on their faces were unforgettable.

In all seriousness, I wasn't actually that close to crashing the entirety of the Jumbo-Visma team on a bike path the day before the race. Nonetheless, this was my first time watching a World Tour level cycling race in person, and the one thing that stood out to me the most was the level of access and closeness that we were able to get to the biggest names in the pro peloton.

The race was on Sunday. However, we drove up to Montreal on Saturday in order to go for a ride and check out the parcours¹. When we were setting off on the ride, I was wondering if we would see any of the pros out for a training ride. Then, less than 15 minutes into our ride, we see none other than Tadej Pogačar, the two-time Tour de France winner, riding in the other direction. This set the tone, and throughout the rest of the day, we saw countless other pro riders cruising around the city.

This sums up my biggest takeaway from the weekend, and that is that the level of closeness and access that cycling fans have at these top-level races is pretty unreal. Fast forward to the next day, a.k.a. the race day, we are standing on the curb of the road without any barrier or anything separating us from the peloton going down a hill at 60 mph. I can't think of a comparison in another sport where the fans are allowed to get so close to the action of the top level of racing. In addition, road races are free to attend; you can just show up and pick a spot along the side of the road to watch from.

This level of access between the fans and the riders helps add to the enthusiastic energy between the fans. There was a tangible feeling of connection between all of the spectators, many of whom cycled to the race, just with the goal to watch the racers ride around a circuit for a few hours.