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Stages 2 and 3
Jul. 5th, 2011 06:03 amSunday, July 3rd, 2011
Stage 2 — Les Essarts ~ Les Essarts (22.48 km)
Today was one of those rare animals in cycling called a team time trial. As Garmin team director Jonathan Vaughters said yesterday, it’s the one place your average viewer gets to see why and how cycling’s a team sport.
There’s one thing you need to know to understand the strategy of cycling, and that’s drafting. Drafting is the art of riding in the slipstream of another rider—or riders—and conserving your own energy. A rider can save a staggering 30% of his energy riding behind someone else. It’s only through this carefully exercised tool that a team can deliver their sprinter to the end of a five-hour stage with enough left in his legs to put on a staggering burst of speed and tip everyone else to the line by inches.
It’s a little hard to see this in action in the peloton, though there are clues: when the wind’s coming from the left, drafting is why the front of the peloton will stretch out in a diagonal line, top left to bottom right, to fight the wind. It’s easier to see it in action in a TTT, when it’s nine guys alone against the clock. Depending on the wind, a team might ride in a straight line, with each man taking point for a few seconds (perhaps 20-30, though stronger riders may take 45) before dropping to the back of the line. Or they might ride in a tight, flat oval, each man sliding off the front immediately to drop back, shift over, and come to the front again. It’s fascinating to watch.
The stage itself, while exciting and fast to watch, is, on the whole, mostly uneventful. I say mostly, because Vacansoleil certainly doesn’t think so: a crash spills five of their riders, one of whom, De Gendt, has to be taken to hospital to get X-rayed for what turns out to be a broken collarbone. He has not, however, left the race. That, my friends, is hardcore.
Some teams have riders fall behind, but to a point, that doesn’t matter, as long as those riders finish within the time allotted for the race. The team just needs to cross the line with at least five riders, because the time for the whole team is marked by the fifth rider to cross the line. Accordingly, as they approach the finish, the team will bunch up, so everyone crosses as closely as possible, and no one loses time for their mates.
But in the end, it’s American team Garmin that manages to do the course in the shortest time: 28 minutes, 4seconds. They’re followed by BMC at 4 seconds off the pace, Team Sky 4 at seconds, and Leopard-Trek at 4 seconds, HTC-Highroad 5 seconds, Radio Shack in 6th place with 10 seconds, Rabobank with 12, Saxo Bank 28 seconds, Astana 32 later, and Omega Pharma-Lotto rounding out the top ten at 39 seconds back. Significantly, this places Alberto Contador of Saxo Bank at an almost incomprehensible deficit of a minute and 42 seconds. Can he come back from this? Well, you don’t win the Tour de France three times, plus the Giro and the Vuelta, on good looks. We shall see.
Monday, July 4th, 2011
Stage 3 — Olonne sur Mer ~ Redon (200.07 km)
A very basic, flat stage today. Once again, a breakaway from the first: five men this time, with 23 years of Tour experience between them. Which brings up a good question: there’s a 5% chance that any breakaway will succeed. So why even try? Well, because 5% is better than nothing, and because sponsors will fall all over themselves in delight when their riders spent five or six hours right out in front of the cameras.
There is, however, one other rider who breaks out from the peloton today—and the peloton sits up, slacks off, and lets him go. Why they do this is one of the most delightful traditions of the Tour. His name is Anthony Charteau. He’s the winner of last year’s polka-dot King of the Mountains jersey, and the Tour is passing through his home town. He’s allowed to lead off the peloton, get a minute or two ahead, and pull over by the side of the road to get off his bike and greet his family. Everyone there—his family and the sizeable crowd of spectators—is thrilled. He hugs and kisses whom I can only assume are his wife and kids, but all too soon, the peloton looms politely behind. With grins all around, Charteau regains his bike, the peloton moves over to let him carefully back in, and everyone’s off again in pursuit of the breakaway.
The only real climb on this stage is an enormous bridge, the Pont St. de Saint-Nazaire over the Loire. It’s a mere Cat 4 climb, and marks roughly the last quarter of the stage. It’s only 1.1km long, but there are some nasty winds up there that stretch the peloton like taffy. They’re back together soon enough, and by 9km to the end, the last riders from the breakaway are swallowed whole.
The launch for the end is in full swing. Mark Cavendish has disappeared—where in earth can he be? What about Mark Renshaw, his top-flight leadout man? There’s Thor Hushovd in his Maillot Jaune, though it seems he’s gone too early. American Tyler Farrar, whose mom has flown over to see him, is right in the thick of things. There’s jockeying, there’s insane speed—and it’s Tyler Farrar!
Tyler is beaming, and as he sits up, he holds out both hands, forming a giant W with his fingers. This win, the first Tour stage victory of his career, is obviously for his best friend and training partner, Wouter Weyland, killed in a freak accident on a descent in the Giro d’Italia just a few months ago. The stage after the tragedy was neutralized, and Wouter’s team, Leopard Trek, ceremonially crossed the line in front of the peloton, in one arm-in-arm line, with Tyler in tears in the middle. He left the race the next day and flew home, devastated. Now, grinning, he’s happy to speak of his friend, and dedicates the win to him.
All in all, not a bad way to celebrate the 4th of July.
Stage 2 — Les Essarts ~ Les Essarts (22.48 km)
Today was one of those rare animals in cycling called a team time trial. As Garmin team director Jonathan Vaughters said yesterday, it’s the one place your average viewer gets to see why and how cycling’s a team sport.
There’s one thing you need to know to understand the strategy of cycling, and that’s drafting. Drafting is the art of riding in the slipstream of another rider—or riders—and conserving your own energy. A rider can save a staggering 30% of his energy riding behind someone else. It’s only through this carefully exercised tool that a team can deliver their sprinter to the end of a five-hour stage with enough left in his legs to put on a staggering burst of speed and tip everyone else to the line by inches.
It’s a little hard to see this in action in the peloton, though there are clues: when the wind’s coming from the left, drafting is why the front of the peloton will stretch out in a diagonal line, top left to bottom right, to fight the wind. It’s easier to see it in action in a TTT, when it’s nine guys alone against the clock. Depending on the wind, a team might ride in a straight line, with each man taking point for a few seconds (perhaps 20-30, though stronger riders may take 45) before dropping to the back of the line. Or they might ride in a tight, flat oval, each man sliding off the front immediately to drop back, shift over, and come to the front again. It’s fascinating to watch.
The stage itself, while exciting and fast to watch, is, on the whole, mostly uneventful. I say mostly, because Vacansoleil certainly doesn’t think so: a crash spills five of their riders, one of whom, De Gendt, has to be taken to hospital to get X-rayed for what turns out to be a broken collarbone. He has not, however, left the race. That, my friends, is hardcore.
Some teams have riders fall behind, but to a point, that doesn’t matter, as long as those riders finish within the time allotted for the race. The team just needs to cross the line with at least five riders, because the time for the whole team is marked by the fifth rider to cross the line. Accordingly, as they approach the finish, the team will bunch up, so everyone crosses as closely as possible, and no one loses time for their mates.
But in the end, it’s American team Garmin that manages to do the course in the shortest time: 28 minutes, 4seconds. They’re followed by BMC at 4 seconds off the pace, Team Sky 4 at seconds, and Leopard-Trek at 4 seconds, HTC-Highroad 5 seconds, Radio Shack in 6th place with 10 seconds, Rabobank with 12, Saxo Bank 28 seconds, Astana 32 later, and Omega Pharma-Lotto rounding out the top ten at 39 seconds back. Significantly, this places Alberto Contador of Saxo Bank at an almost incomprehensible deficit of a minute and 42 seconds. Can he come back from this? Well, you don’t win the Tour de France three times, plus the Giro and the Vuelta, on good looks. We shall see.
Monday, July 4th, 2011
Stage 3 — Olonne sur Mer ~ Redon (200.07 km)
A very basic, flat stage today. Once again, a breakaway from the first: five men this time, with 23 years of Tour experience between them. Which brings up a good question: there’s a 5% chance that any breakaway will succeed. So why even try? Well, because 5% is better than nothing, and because sponsors will fall all over themselves in delight when their riders spent five or six hours right out in front of the cameras.
There is, however, one other rider who breaks out from the peloton today—and the peloton sits up, slacks off, and lets him go. Why they do this is one of the most delightful traditions of the Tour. His name is Anthony Charteau. He’s the winner of last year’s polka-dot King of the Mountains jersey, and the Tour is passing through his home town. He’s allowed to lead off the peloton, get a minute or two ahead, and pull over by the side of the road to get off his bike and greet his family. Everyone there—his family and the sizeable crowd of spectators—is thrilled. He hugs and kisses whom I can only assume are his wife and kids, but all too soon, the peloton looms politely behind. With grins all around, Charteau regains his bike, the peloton moves over to let him carefully back in, and everyone’s off again in pursuit of the breakaway.
The only real climb on this stage is an enormous bridge, the Pont St. de Saint-Nazaire over the Loire. It’s a mere Cat 4 climb, and marks roughly the last quarter of the stage. It’s only 1.1km long, but there are some nasty winds up there that stretch the peloton like taffy. They’re back together soon enough, and by 9km to the end, the last riders from the breakaway are swallowed whole.
The launch for the end is in full swing. Mark Cavendish has disappeared—where in earth can he be? What about Mark Renshaw, his top-flight leadout man? There’s Thor Hushovd in his Maillot Jaune, though it seems he’s gone too early. American Tyler Farrar, whose mom has flown over to see him, is right in the thick of things. There’s jockeying, there’s insane speed—and it’s Tyler Farrar!
Tyler is beaming, and as he sits up, he holds out both hands, forming a giant W with his fingers. This win, the first Tour stage victory of his career, is obviously for his best friend and training partner, Wouter Weyland, killed in a freak accident on a descent in the Giro d’Italia just a few months ago. The stage after the tragedy was neutralized, and Wouter’s team, Leopard Trek, ceremonially crossed the line in front of the peloton, in one arm-in-arm line, with Tyler in tears in the middle. He left the race the next day and flew home, devastated. Now, grinning, he’s happy to speak of his friend, and dedicates the win to him.
All in all, not a bad way to celebrate the 4th of July.