The Normandy race
track Evreux-Navarre is a pleasant hour train ride from the Paris Saint-Lazare
station. They’ve been racing at Evreux since 1905 and if you go there today,
not much seems to have changed.
Evreux represents hippodrome number 22 in my quest to
visit all 250 French race tracks. I had heard that the ambiance at Evreux was
truly special and I set out to discover for myself. I took my bicycle with me
in the train in order to get to the track from the Evreux station, but also to
take in the context by cycling through the emerald green pastures of the Eure
region of Haute Normandie, up the rolling
hills over country roads that follow the contour of the land, maybe passing one
of the many horse farms, medieval abbeys and Renaissance castles.
None of the horses
intended for the Arc de Triomphe would be racing on this splendid Sunday
afternoon but the maidens and claimers were all beautifully groomed and looked
like champions to me.
Rather than rant about
how much I love country tracks, let’s just take a look.
The race track is a
family outing instead of a casino, with pony rides and other children’s
activities.
The first turn around
the mile oval gives you a picture of the rough forested hills of the region.
Railbirds clutch their
programs, which contain sparse information about the runners, mainly listing
their recent finish positions, with no indication of surface, distance, class
level, or anything else that handicappers need to know.
But in the walking
ring before each race, medieval oral culture kicks in and the track announcer
narrates past performances like an old troubadour, chanting more specific
information about the recent races as the horses parade in the walking ring.
I was able to scribble
out my own past performances by going on line the night before, entering the
free Geny Courses database, and clicking on the names of the entries, riders
and trainers.
Thanks to this
information, I had two choices in the first race, for gentleman riders and cavalières (“gentlewomen”). The number 5
Charmeuse had by far the best earnings per race and was to be ridden by the
leading gentleman rider, Florent Guy (31% wins and 54% in the money). But
Charmeuse was the favorite, and his earnings had come with a string of seconds
and thirds in maiden races. He looked like a professional maiden.
Meanwhile, the only
other rider with high impact stats was Madmoiselle Catherine Rieb-Menard (15%
wins, 26% in the money) and her horse, Iconic, was going off at around 11/1. I
played Iconic. When Madmoiselle Rieb-Menard felt the pace too slow in the 1 9/16
event, she swept Iconic by the field, took the lead, and never surrendered it.
Iconic paid 23.60. Naturally, I was pleased to listen to the extended interview
of Miss Rieb-Menard, who had become my new heroine.
Notice the rear of the
grandstand in the background of this picture. This is the typical half-timbered
style (exposed wood frames) that came from the Middle Ages and then became
fashionable once again in Normandy in the 1800s. This grandstand was built 110
years ago and looks and feels as if it hasn’t undergone any changes since.
Looking from the
grandstand across the backstretch, a railroad track is carved into the side of
the hill, hidden in the brush, with Intercities trains gliding between Paris and
Deauville.
In the background of
the far turn, you can take a glimpse at a typical Normandy church spire in the
nearby town of Navarre.
The region is replete
with architectural treasures and I have chosen a rare one to finish this visit,
an old copper foundry I passed between the race course and the train station in
the town of Navarre, called the Usines de Navarre.
With a theatrical
track announcer, convivial country atmosphere and authentic homespun
architecture, racing at Evreux manages a perfect balance between serenity and
exhilaration. Too bad they only get four racing dates per year. But somehow,
racing managers have found a way to preserve France’s 250 race courses without
resorting to casinos and hype, by realizing that so often less is better and
small is beautiful.
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