Events: Fleche Buffoon 2022
(2022) Years ago Red Bull experimented with a downhill road cycling race, a mass start atop a mountain with a finish line down in the valley. It was a high speed affair of descending. The Fleche Buffoon is not that event. In a salute to the Ardennes classics, Kermesse Sport mimics the oddly similar punchy climbs that punctuate the end of the Spring Classics season in Europe. Fleche Buffoon goes up. A lot. And often. This was only our second attempt, and the weather could not have been better.
Continuing with the rolling start theme between 8-9am, the team car passed the lead gaggle of riders who showed up on time as they navigated the quaint hamlet of Carversville, some ten miles into the event. Here we were working our way to the start while the leaders were attacking the third and fourth climbs by the time we parked. It’s what kept us determined to navigate the challenging course.
Fleche Buffoon pairs itself with the climbing classics: Fleche Wallonne, Amstel Gold, and Liege-Bastogne-Liege. The European routes are free of cobbles; the Kermesse version is free of gravel. Much like the European versions, Fleche Buffoon features short but steep climbs, punchy bergs that sting with each summiting. There were two courses on the day, a metric century and a 76-mile route. We rolled out at 9am with a few drops of rain and a comfortable temperature. We’re not the climbing type, so the ride would be interesting for sure.
The 76-mile route was altered after the start was moved to New Hope-Solebury Upper Elementary School. This slight change allowed the route to get right into the experience. Opening descents watered the eyes from the morning temperatures. Meanwhile the sweet hydrating aroma of dogwood trees and cherry blossoms overpowered the air. The following climbs are all-too familiar to local residents, but rest assured, they are challenges on their own standing.
The opening climb every year has been Comfort Road, a little noodle of a climb barely a half-kilometer in length. Its double-digit steepness percentage is an appetizer to the course ahead, but here is where the route would deviate from previous years. A steep descent to Cuttalossa Road had riders maneuver around one of the tightest turns on course and into a second noodle of a climb called Armitage. Directly in front was a kilometer of similar climbing from Comfort Road while down the cliff to the left was Cuttalossa Road, the sleepy country road we came in on. The uphills had ticked up in intensity. Immediately summiting we encountered the first participant of Fleche who was hoping to catch a ride through the next few turns.
In year’s past, the route would head up the pock-marked Tohickon Hill Road, through Stover State Park, then immediately up the next climb of Stover Park Road. Due to the poor condition of Tohickon Hill Road, Kermesse Sport sent the route one road over to Cafferty Road, a local favorite that can send one deep into northern Bucks County game lands. The Boy Scouts were camping in their standard field off of Cafferty Road and the seasonal sights of hikers with packs as well as wafting campfires occupied our thoughts for the entire mile-long climb. If there are enjoyable climbs in Fleche, this certainly was the one. Its ramps were merciful, the scenery relaxing, and the encounter with neutral support driving alongside reinforced the notion of being looked after only four climbs in. Yet in the back of the mind lurked the heavy hitters and we were on our way to the steepest one yet.
Clay Ridge was where we encountered our first walker. A cyclist in pink was pushing the bike up the final ramps of the sneaky climb that is Clay Ridge. Another kilometer-long climb, the ramp at the top sneaks in a sustained steepness that coughs cyclists off their perch. No doubt the walker experienced this. As years before, the resident at the top of the hill crossed the street from his car to gain access to his house. Again he hesitated to cross until he saw our speed and finally took himself - and his cat - to the porch. Hallucinations cannot be ruled out by this point as the day was warming up. More riders were being caught as a glorious descent plunged us down to the Delaware River and ever-closer to the notorious climb on the Pennsylvania side.
To gain access to Uhlerstown Road, one must roll along River Road, an anxiety-inducing thoroughfare with no shoulder. But anyone attempting Uhlerstown wouldn’t come from any other approach. One must pass through a covered bridge before making the oddly-configured right turn to access an impossibly skinny road. Then the road passes a seasonal gate and surface debris becomes prevalent. This was the first time we ever noticed tractor tire treads stamped into the asphalt on the first ramp. Not more than ten feet to the right was a cliff that would send one down, down, down to the floor below. Uhlerstown Road holds sway in these parts as a testament to going up. The road ascends two hundred feet in one kilometer, and (according to Strava) 42% gradient, which is entirely untrue. Here four riders were ascending. Two had started walking by the time they were caught. The leading riders were grinding as we wove between the walkers. Then the two leaders gave up and joined the walkers, but we still mashed the pedals, catching our sunglasses as they fell out of the helmet and had to bite down on them to finish the climb atop the bike. Over the top the sun shone brightly and it was half-expected to have unicorns glitter across the sky of rainbows to celebrate the completion. With a bit more climbing, the route turned to the scorching descent into the town of Upper Black Eddy where the rest stop was located as well as the pedestrian bridge into New Jersey.
Some twenty riders were hanging around the Upper Black Eddy fire hall refilling bottles, talking about cookies, or snagging soft pretzels. This is where some participants learned this would be the only rest stop. For the long course riders this was just under halfway at mile 35, and provisions were to be considered. Bottles topped off and bites consumed, the route sends riders on northern roads into New Jersey, starting with Crabapple Hill Road after the intoxicating picturesque ride along the Delaware River and shale cliffs above Milford, NJ. Crabapple Hill Road is one of those struggles that would do just fine as a climb by itself, but after nearly forty miles of hilly riding, the road was daunting. Dealt with in time, the next hill was the next feared uphill - Adamic Hill Road.
Adamic Hill Road - and its sister road Shire - are challenging climbs off the laughably named road Mount Joy. Adamic’s steepness continues for 1.5 miles and here is where two switchbacks gouged the legs. Hints of cramps creeped in. How those short steep climbs in the opening miles were lusted after. A rider made a comment, scaring the hell out of us as we were focused on fighting gravity. Surely the miles of uphill riding were taking their toll as the two vague switchbacks challenged our perseverance. The sun’s reflection off the road hinted at the end of spring. From here on out, the ride would be warmer and the season would be firmly established. It was also believed that the remaining miles would be a predictor to how the 2022 season would look. Atop Adamic Hill Road is the dilapidated authentic Dutch windmill overlooking Holland Township. The sails have completely vanished, no doubt from the severe storms. Field workers commented on how cyclists come through ‘like clockwork’ this time of year.
A refreshing descent back to the river town of Milford gave respite to the legs. The vest had been doffed but the arm warmers remained. They began to show signs of salt buildup. Water bottles were crushed but was it too late? Stamets Road climb saw more riders caught. Here two riders were caught for a second time: the walker from Clay Ridge and the walker on Uhlerstown Road. Further riders were passed but with so many group rides circulating the area it was unsure if these were event participants. Horseshoe Bend Road had more riders climbing and rightfully since the road borders a hiking park and provides beautiful coverage. Again a descent to the Delaware River provided a break and doubts about attempting the final New Jersey climb were seriously entertained.
The final feared climb comes near the end of the Jersey portion of the route. Yet another kilometer-long hill, Tumble Falls is a blatant struggle. Having already cross the metric century before arriving at the opening ramp, riding past it was considered in exchange for the bridge to Pennsylvania only a short distance away. With a group bearing down, fear that they would shout a turn was missed forced us up the ferocious experience. Every watt was pathetic. Every pedal stroke was sub-par. But each rotation brought the summit closer. Eventually the top was gained and a lone rider zipped on by. The group did not make the catch. The descent was everything the word brilliant was meant for. It was hoped the support staff would shoot a text saying, “Surprise we’re at Lumberville General Store with a bucket of fries and a keg of cola!” but that never happened.
Initially the idea would be to forgo any remaining hills in Pennsylvania and take River Road back to the start. Surprisingly that is exactly what the event directors had the route do and the flat road back to New Hope-Solebury Upper Elementary School was nothing but mercy. Dismounting the bike under the awning, the nearest bench was eyed up after grabbing bags of chips, some Athletic Brewing Company non-alcoholic beer, some cola, and some cookies. Many of the riders had finished by then. Some were lounging in their camping chairs in the parking lot, discussing the perfect weather, perfect conditions, and challenging parcours. Two dogs made their presence known to the finishers, perhaps to provide support for the hard day out.
Fleche Buffoon has always fascinated us with its challenging aspect, but really in the end it is a showcase of the beautiful roads that jut off from the Delaware River. Some are hard, while some are relentless, but the splendor offered by Kermesse Sport in Fleche Buffoon is exactly what riders should consider when struggling up some of those last climbs. Easy climbs don’t afford bragging rights; stacking a dozen of them together in a single route does that.