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Sunday, July 3, 2011: Stage 1 — Passage du Gois La Barre de Monts ~ Mont des Alouettes Les Herbiers (204.66 km)
Today’s ceremonial Grand Depart took place on the intriguing and beautiful Passage du Gois, a straight, narrow, cobbled causeway, two miles long, that’s completely engulfed by the Atlantic at high tide. It was the scene of what was probably an inevitable 25-man pile-up at the 1999 TdF. Today’s revisit is decidedly more peaceful, and though picturesque, uneventful. But the minute the peloton leaves the 15.5km Neutral Zone, Christian Prudhomme dropping the starter’s flag from the sunroof of the red referee’s car, there’s a three-man breakaway: Jeremy Roy of Francaise des Jeux (apparently, everyone just calls them FDJ now), Perrig Quemeneur of Eurocar, and Lieuwe Estra of Vacansoleil. The latter two riders have never ridden in the Tour de France before, so this is an auspicious beginning for them. There’s an intermediate sprint at the 87km point, and while the breakaway takes the big points, they’re not seriously contesting the points (sprint) competition. Back in the peloton, then, the battle is for fourth place and its 13 points. It’s won by one of the ten Americans competing this year: Tyler Farrar. (There are, in case you care, four American teams: BMC Racing Team, HTC-High Road, Garmin-Cervelo, and Lance Armstrong’s former team, RadioShack.) There are a few more minor—and very normal for the first stages—crashes as the day progresses, but it seems no one’s seriously hurt. The peloton grinds away the miles easily, different teams taking point as they slowly but inexorably wear away the four-plus minutes up to the three men in the breakaway. The catch was a foregone conclusion, but the fact that the trio hangs on all the way until 19km from the end is amazing work. The three shake hands as the peloton swallows them.
Things get interesting, unfortunately, 8.7km from the end: there’s a massive pileup when an Astana rider—possibly Vinokourov—clipped a spectator standing not on the grassy shoulder, but on the edge of the road facing the wrong way. In other words: an enormously stupid human. The result is disastrous for most of the peloton, fully three-quarters of whom are stopped, flat out on the road, trying desperately to untangle their bikes, get out of the mess, and get moving again. The entire field, together moments before, is now stretched out in clumps and singles all over the course. This early in the race, a few seconds’ difference won’t matter, but we’re talking a loss of 30 seconds or more. The riders who have regained their bikes are now in an organised panic: get it together, re-strategise, and try to make up as much time to the front riders as possible—there are only about 40 of them who made it through unscathed. Even Alberto Contador, defending champion, is scrambling to make up his unexpected half-minute delay.
And another crash! 1.8km from the end, first-day nerves and/or just plain bad luck have struck yet again. They’re within the 3km-to-the-end safety zone, but with the race this splintered, who knows what the referees will say. The same-time-as-anyone-with-you-when-you-fall rule probably won’t apply. It’s hard to tell who was in the group, and who made it out alive.
Back at the front, and Fabian Cancellara makes a wild break for the end, but he’s started far, far too early to be serious. Phillipe Gilbert, the Belgian champion, takes the bait, and passes him! And there: Aussie Cadel Evans speeds through to second! Norwegian sprinter Thor Hushovd takes third.
It’s well over a full minute—1.22—until the next big group crosses the line, and to everyone’s surprise, it contains Alberto Contador. It becomes obvious they must have been caught in the second crash as well as the first, and it’s cost them enormously. Stage Two is one of the rare but always-exciting Team Time Trial, which Jonathan Vaughters (Garmin-Cervelo team director) describes as the one time “where that guy, Joe Public, can see why cycling is a team sport and not an individual sport.” They’re also not a good way to make up time. It’s entirely possible Contador will lose yet more time tomorrow.
It’s an almost shocking beginning to the Tour, and a huge handicap for Contador, who’s already not having the best event of his life, having been booed at the Team Introductions earlier. Can he come back from this? He’s good enough, if he can avoid more bad luck and unfortunate spectators. And should he manage to claw his way back, it can only be good news for his PR. And, possibly, for the Tour.
Today’s ceremonial Grand Depart took place on the intriguing and beautiful Passage du Gois, a straight, narrow, cobbled causeway, two miles long, that’s completely engulfed by the Atlantic at high tide. It was the scene of what was probably an inevitable 25-man pile-up at the 1999 TdF. Today’s revisit is decidedly more peaceful, and though picturesque, uneventful. But the minute the peloton leaves the 15.5km Neutral Zone, Christian Prudhomme dropping the starter’s flag from the sunroof of the red referee’s car, there’s a three-man breakaway: Jeremy Roy of Francaise des Jeux (apparently, everyone just calls them FDJ now), Perrig Quemeneur of Eurocar, and Lieuwe Estra of Vacansoleil. The latter two riders have never ridden in the Tour de France before, so this is an auspicious beginning for them. There’s an intermediate sprint at the 87km point, and while the breakaway takes the big points, they’re not seriously contesting the points (sprint) competition. Back in the peloton, then, the battle is for fourth place and its 13 points. It’s won by one of the ten Americans competing this year: Tyler Farrar. (There are, in case you care, four American teams: BMC Racing Team, HTC-High Road, Garmin-Cervelo, and Lance Armstrong’s former team, RadioShack.) There are a few more minor—and very normal for the first stages—crashes as the day progresses, but it seems no one’s seriously hurt. The peloton grinds away the miles easily, different teams taking point as they slowly but inexorably wear away the four-plus minutes up to the three men in the breakaway. The catch was a foregone conclusion, but the fact that the trio hangs on all the way until 19km from the end is amazing work. The three shake hands as the peloton swallows them.
Things get interesting, unfortunately, 8.7km from the end: there’s a massive pileup when an Astana rider—possibly Vinokourov—clipped a spectator standing not on the grassy shoulder, but on the edge of the road facing the wrong way. In other words: an enormously stupid human. The result is disastrous for most of the peloton, fully three-quarters of whom are stopped, flat out on the road, trying desperately to untangle their bikes, get out of the mess, and get moving again. The entire field, together moments before, is now stretched out in clumps and singles all over the course. This early in the race, a few seconds’ difference won’t matter, but we’re talking a loss of 30 seconds or more. The riders who have regained their bikes are now in an organised panic: get it together, re-strategise, and try to make up as much time to the front riders as possible—there are only about 40 of them who made it through unscathed. Even Alberto Contador, defending champion, is scrambling to make up his unexpected half-minute delay.
And another crash! 1.8km from the end, first-day nerves and/or just plain bad luck have struck yet again. They’re within the 3km-to-the-end safety zone, but with the race this splintered, who knows what the referees will say. The same-time-as-anyone-with-you-when-you-fall rule probably won’t apply. It’s hard to tell who was in the group, and who made it out alive.
Back at the front, and Fabian Cancellara makes a wild break for the end, but he’s started far, far too early to be serious. Phillipe Gilbert, the Belgian champion, takes the bait, and passes him! And there: Aussie Cadel Evans speeds through to second! Norwegian sprinter Thor Hushovd takes third.
It’s well over a full minute—1.22—until the next big group crosses the line, and to everyone’s surprise, it contains Alberto Contador. It becomes obvious they must have been caught in the second crash as well as the first, and it’s cost them enormously. Stage Two is one of the rare but always-exciting Team Time Trial, which Jonathan Vaughters (Garmin-Cervelo team director) describes as the one time “where that guy, Joe Public, can see why cycling is a team sport and not an individual sport.” They’re also not a good way to make up time. It’s entirely possible Contador will lose yet more time tomorrow.
It’s an almost shocking beginning to the Tour, and a huge handicap for Contador, who’s already not having the best event of his life, having been booed at the Team Introductions earlier. Can he come back from this? He’s good enough, if he can avoid more bad luck and unfortunate spectators. And should he manage to claw his way back, it can only be good news for his PR. And, possibly, for the Tour.