Les Amis de Paris-Roubaix are the soul of the Hell of the North - cycling’s toughest race

Riders in the 2025 race make their way along the treacherous Trouee d'Arenberg Jeff Pachoud/Getty Images Share full articleROUBAIX, France — “It was here, in the velodrome, that I learned to walk,” says Guy Mathon, framed, as he speaks, by technicolour jerseys, ancient bikes and dozens of cobblestones. “I grew up in the cycling world, and the cycling world was fascinating in the eyes of a child. I competed, but then, well, I had to work to raise my family. But Paris-Roubaix has given me so much that I am trying to give back what I can to Paris-Roubaix.” The history here is tangible but idiosyncratic. Paint peels behind chainlink fences, the surface of the velodrome track is cracked and weed-strewn. Lycra-clad men drink coffee as volunteers stretch a giant banner across the infield. In a neighbouring building, the ancient shower block is made up of dozens of concrete cubicles, where the water is produced by yanking on a bare metal chain. On the outside of each cubicle, a burnished golden plaque features a name, a title, and a year, or perhaps several. “Merckx E, Vainquer, 1968, 1970, 1973”, reads one. These are the winners of Paris-Roubaix, the world’s toughest one-day bike race: a 250km (155-mile) slog across cobbles and mud in northern France. It vibrates and thrums with suffering; laying waste to a rider’s legs, then their brain, and then their spirit. This is the so-called l’Enfer du Nord — the Hell of the North. “It’s b******s, this race!” said Dutch rider Theo de Rooij, famously, after abandoning his challenge in the 1985 edition. “You’re working like an animal, you don’t have time to p**s — you wet your pants. You’re riding in mud, you’re slipping. It’s a piece of s**t…” Would he ride it again, asked John Tesh, a reporter for American broadcaster CBS. “Sure, it’s the most beautiful race in the world!” replied De Rooij. If this hell has a soul, it can be found here, in the offices of Les Amis de Paris-Roubaix (The Friends of Paris-Roubaix), as The Athletic visits two days before the 2026 race tomorrow (Sunday). The organisation is made up of volunteers, all of them working to safeguard its future — especially its kilometres upon kilometres of cobbles. Tadej Pogačar’s parents were due to visit later that evening, ahead of their son’s bid to make history. “Our aim is to defend the race,” explains Mathon, LAPR’s vice-president. “‘Against what?’ Against the deterioration and disappearance of the cobbles. If there is no more pavé, there will be no more racing. You can visit some of the cobbles today and they will be fine. In three months, they will be wrecked.” The cobbles bear years of history, not just from bike racing, but from life. When these tracks were originally dirt roads connecting farmers’ fields across a deeply working-class area of France, winter turned them into trenches of mud. “The horse-and-carts would get bogged down and frozen in the paths. Business could not be done,” explains Mathon. “So the cobbles were introduced to make them passable — carrossable, we say in French. So these roads come from the reign of Napoleon Bonaparte, over two hundred years ago. It is a legacy from the past, heritage in motion. “But now, trucks pass by. There are tractors. These are very heavy. And then there is the wear and tear of time, the water that infiltrates and weakens the surface. We have to monitor that and fix it — I believe that Paris-Roubaix must remain hard. But for me, it has to (also) be safe.” So over cycling’s offseason, dozens of volunteers venture onto the farm tracks of this region near the France-Belgium border to monitor the condition of the cobbles — working through rain, hail, and occasionally sun, just as its agricultural workers have done for centuries. If a cobble is broken, it gets replaced with another that is in keeping with the surrounding rocks — there are four predominant types across the Roubaix route. This year, in the men’s race, there are over 50km of cobbled sectors. “There is so much pavé that we don’t know how to fix it all at once,” says Mathon. “So we have to go by sections and priority.” This is not a race on cobbles but a race of cobbles; the two are so inseparable that the event’s winners are presented with one mounted on a plinth. In the next room to where Mathon is speaking to us, dozens of trophies line the shelves — including the 2020 prize, which was never awarded as the Covid-19 pandemic forced the race to be scrapped. But the power of this symbolism has led to issues. The great beauty of cycling is that its stadiums are the same roads on which we walk, drive, and even ride ourselves. A football fan will almost certainly never take a free kick at the Maracana in Rio de Janeiro, while only the fortunate few amateur golfers may ever round Augusta’s Amen Corner. But anybody can access the cobbles of Paris-Roubaix — and some choose to take them home as a memento. “This is an issue I first noticed four years ago,” says Mathon. “There were more and more missing cobblestones. I have two theories. The first is that it’s a theft by someone who is a little bit unaware and is taking a souvenir for home, like a collector’s item. Or maybe, and I hope it’s not this, but a kind of sabotage. “Why am I saying this? I find it unusual and really very strange that on the Arenberg sector, which is 2.4km long, the cobbles are stolen from the middle of the sectors — the crown of the road, where the riders ride. If it’s a simple theft, then surely it’s a little bit (taken) from the right, a little bit from the left, a little bit in the middle, a little bit everywhere. But no, it’s really in a straight line, and that catches my attention. Why do they do it like that?” That morning, he dispatched two volunteers to the Trouee d’Arenberg to fix these holes, the pair needing to employ a temporary solution with just 48 hours to go until the race — plugging them with a mix of sand and cement that will harden by Sunday. But, with the area packed with tourists ahead of the race, and no surveillance in the forest which lines it, Mathon worries that more thefts could occur. “I hope it’s just people stealing a collector’s item for their home, and not sabotage,” he adds. “People don’t realise that when the riders’ carbon wheels hit a hole at 50kph (31mph), the wheel can explode or dismantle and cause a serious crash, or maybe even, given the impact, ruin a career, just because someone took a cobble. “It scares me for the riders, and I hope it’s more stupidity than deliberate vandalism. We’re going to have to take action.” Visiting Arenberg later in the day, the repair marks are still visible in the height of the midday sun. This is Paris-Roubaix’s most famous sector, despite usually taking place over 100km from the finish at Roubaix’s velodrome. It was first discovered by Jean Stablinski, a longtime teammate of five-time Tour de France winner Jacques Anquetil in the 1950s and 1960s who described himself as “the only rider to have ridden over and under it”, having worked as a youth in the coal mines that dominated this part of his homeland. One of just three sections of pavé given a “five-star” difficulty rating — former LAPR president Francois Doulcier once said of it, “Objectively speaking, it’s the worst-maintained sector of cobbles in the whole race” — it’s liable to make riders shudder through both fear and the reverberations that come with passing over it. “It’s the true definition of hell,” Italian rider Filippo Pozzato has said. “It’s very dangerous, especially in the first kilometre, when you enter it at over 60kph. It’s incredible. The bike goes in all directions. It’s a real spectacle, but I don’t know if it’s really necessary to put us through it.” Some 10,000 fans will be here on race day; already, several amateurs are testing whether they can navigate its 2.4km length ahead of the amateur sportive on Saturday. Its danger is latent; 1996 winner Johan Museeuw shattered a kneecap here two years later, before returning to claim two more editions in the following four years. So far, the section has not been introduced to the women’s race owing to safety fears over the potential size of the peloton when it passes through, with Arenberg being so close to the start (which is 10km away in Denain, rather than Paris; similarly, the men’s event actually begins in Compiegne, an hour’s drive north of the capital). A chicane was introduced in 2024 to slow the riders’ speed, located right next to a railway level crossing that competitors will hope does not sound on Sunday, after the events at last weekend’s Ronde van Vlaanderen. Two teams whizz past on a reconnaissance ride — French squads TotalEnergies and Groupama-FDJ, grim-faced and focused in their lines. A few remaining missing cobbles aside, the course is at its best — helped by an unusual flock of helpers. Around 40 goats have spent the previous two months here, nibbling away at the excess vegetation. “During Covid, we realised that the grass in the Forest of Arenberg was growing back really quickly, so we said we needed to find solutions,” race organizer ASO’s course designer Thierry Gouvenou told Cycling Weekly. “We tried sweeping, using fire to burn the grass away and trailing a giant brush behind a tractor. The problem with the brush is that it cleans too deeply, and the riders complained about it being dangerous, because their tires would go between the cobblestones. So why not eco-grazing?” Organizers work with a charity, Espoir Avenir, which offers work experience to the region’s unemployed, with Pas-de-Calais suffering massively in the wake of deindustrialisation. Roubaix, in particular, is one of the most deprived towns in France, with 46 per cent of the population living under the poverty line. Les Amis de Paris-Roubaix works with the local horticultural college in an attempt to help teach the younger generation vocational skills. “They are very proud to see that the riders, on Sunday, will pass over their repairs,” explains Mathon. “This is a working-class area. Yes, it is a race, it is true, but it is above all a unifying event for us, a mobilising event. It’s about sharing what we see with our neighbor. “Obviously, the race itself is very exciting, because despite the modernism of cycling right now, maybe it’s the only race in the world that retains the difficulties and characteristics of a century ago. “No matter what, the riders, from the first to the last, will be heroes on Sunday night. And that’s what the public comes to see. It is the greeting of those heroes, of the people who will succeed in finishing, or maybe even winning, that is what matters.” Spot the pattern. Connect the terms Find the hidden link between sports terms Jacob Whitehead is a reporter for The Athletic who covers investigations, cycling, and Newcastle United. He previously worked on the news desk. In 2025, he was a Gold Award winner at the 30 to Watch journalism awards. Follow Jacob on Twitter @jwhitey98