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Stage Two 166km (103 miles), Utrecht to Zeland
Flat. Flat, flat, flat. Flatter than me in 5th grade. At some points, even BELOW sea level by 3 or 4 metres. Like, there’s a bridge in the middle, and that’s the only elevation. No, really.
So what does a flat stage mean? Yup. A sprint finish. It’s a cool day in the Netherlands— no, we’re not in France yet— but a windy one. We’ve got the peloton chugging along happily, with 4 riders in a breakaway. Yesterday’s Stage One was a fairly simple time trial, which I love. Rohan Dennis of BMC, a very young rider, won, giving him his first-ever Maillot Jaune. And seriously, if you’re going to win your first one, how better? Will he hold it through the day? Probably not. But he’s certainly happy to have it now.
So what happens when you’re on flat-flat-flat land, and you’re approaching the coast? Hey! Wind! The peloton begins to stretch, and take no the distinctive shape of a group of riders battling a strong crosswind. It’s 60 miles to the finish, but it’s time, the riders have decided, to get to work. We still have four riders off the front, but now the peloton has divided, and those caught out and left behind may be trashing their chances already. Second day, and some riders could already be sunk!
Alberto Contador, now in the bright yellow of Saxo-Tinkoff, is absolutely sure he’ll be up near the front. Sky is there with him. I see Lampre and Astana in the third group— will they catch up? Mmm. Maybe, maybe not. Personally, I think we’ll see the peloton back together again, but I’ve been wrong before. Many, many times.
There’s a sprint in Rotterdam— which sounds like a Cary Grant movie— and it looks like the four frontrunners will be caught before we reach it. Back in the first bulk of the peloton, Mark Cavendish is starting to position himself. Surprisingly, no, the first four have gone through the sprint alone— barely ahead— but the race for 5th place is pretty heated. These four will probably not be in the overall points competition, so it’s all about consistency. Which means Mark Cavendish. There aren’t many points left for fifth, so he may save it for the bigger-total final sprint. Peter Sagan may not be taking the long view, though. Guess we’ll see.
Okay, well. Czech rider Jan Barta of German team Bora - Argon18. All by himself. Didn’t see that coming, either.
62km/40m to go, and I was right— peloton is one mass yet again. But off the back, but that’s normal. Oh, joy: it’s raining, now, too. This always makes me worry: a newly-wet road is an especially slippy road. Thankfully, it’s a fairly wide road, too, and flat. But that wind— ugh.
And fuck. Adam Hansen from Lotto has crashed. Painfully, it looks. But a change of bike as he tries to flex out his wet, mud-smeared leg, and he’s back on the road. Apparently, a few riders have had falls. But there are still 198 riders on the road, so nothing’s too bad yet.
Thankfully, the sun’s come out at the finish line, but the wind is still formidable. Out on the course, it’s changed direction: it’s coming from behind them. If that maintains, it’s going to make for a very fast, but a very dangerous sprint finish.
Okay. So. Closing in, and the peloton has done some damage here. There’s a huge split, and the riders stream past huge, modern windmills that perfectly illustrate why. Some big riders have made the front group, including sprinters and their lead-out guys. They’re determined not to let the rest of the field catch them, so they’re working together to make sure that doesn’t happen. It’s a nearly 40-second deficit now, which is formidable. (Aw— I’ve just heard Phil Liggett say “These are desperate moments in the Tour de France” for the first time. I feel completed.)
Closer and closer, and the two chase groups the wind made out of the peloton have become one again. They’re still chasing a group of 26 riders over a minute ahead, and only have 21 miles left to catch them.
Van Garderen, Froome, Contador, Cancellara, Cavendish— they’re all in the front group, with a lot more. Nibali is in the chase, and I can only imagine his frustration at getting caught out.
AUGH! Nibali has a flat tire! Christ almighty, could that happen at a worse time? He’s wearing the number 1 of last year’s Tour winner, and he’s absolutely in the worst position ever. He’s climbing back through the caravan of cars, drafting when he can (within legal limits) just to try and get back into it. No one will fault him for it— it’s massively unfortunate to have a flat, and he’s not using his own team car to do it. Can he get to the peloton? Finally, finally, he’s back in the peloton. Can he get back to the front? Back into the game? Well. That’s an entirely different story.
10 miles to go. The gap is a full minute. Daniele Benatti of Tinkoff Saxo has a flat, but he’s back on the road again in a snap. Peter Sagan has dropped back to see if he can help him catch up, as I’m sure he’d like another lead-out man for the final sprint.
And Peter Sagan has flatted! What the hell? New bike, and he’s pulled himself back to the lead group all by himself. G-d almighty.
AUGH! A crash! Losada of Katusha is down, a Movistar rider, a Lampre rider? There are roundabouts, and they’re wet— this is not surprising. Not at all. Six of them yet to go.
24 frontrunners now, with 10km to go. The rain has stopped, but there’s a sheen of water, still— over paint, it’s murderous.
The peloton is driving as hard as it can, but the break isn’t coming down at all. It’s gone up— 1.24. The only option they have is to keep pushing, keep pushing, to try and lessen the damage. It’s far too early to give up.
Closer and closer— the road narrows with spectators. Fabian Cancellara is bereft of teammates in the front group, but he knows if he gets close enough to the front, if he can cross third or better, the time bonus it’ll win him will put him in yellow.
1.22 now, and you can almost hear Nibali screaming. There’s no way the peloton can catch up. The sun is out, the wind has died, the 24 riders are closing in on the end.
They’re starting for the end! And it’s Andre Greipel of Lotto! Out of nowhere— i didn’t even know he was in there! The hell? Where was Cav? Augh— fourth! And Cancellara— yes, he’s made that third spot by half a wheel over Cavendish.
Wow. So that was a pretty unexpected stage. The peloton is coming in five minutes behind, and I’m surprised as hell— one doesn’t usually see splits this big this early.
Well, tomorrow is certainly going to be brutal. There are cobblestones, and a fairly hellish climb. It’s going to be fun. We shall see.
Flat. Flat, flat, flat. Flatter than me in 5th grade. At some points, even BELOW sea level by 3 or 4 metres. Like, there’s a bridge in the middle, and that’s the only elevation. No, really.
So what does a flat stage mean? Yup. A sprint finish. It’s a cool day in the Netherlands— no, we’re not in France yet— but a windy one. We’ve got the peloton chugging along happily, with 4 riders in a breakaway. Yesterday’s Stage One was a fairly simple time trial, which I love. Rohan Dennis of BMC, a very young rider, won, giving him his first-ever Maillot Jaune. And seriously, if you’re going to win your first one, how better? Will he hold it through the day? Probably not. But he’s certainly happy to have it now.
So what happens when you’re on flat-flat-flat land, and you’re approaching the coast? Hey! Wind! The peloton begins to stretch, and take no the distinctive shape of a group of riders battling a strong crosswind. It’s 60 miles to the finish, but it’s time, the riders have decided, to get to work. We still have four riders off the front, but now the peloton has divided, and those caught out and left behind may be trashing their chances already. Second day, and some riders could already be sunk!
Alberto Contador, now in the bright yellow of Saxo-Tinkoff, is absolutely sure he’ll be up near the front. Sky is there with him. I see Lampre and Astana in the third group— will they catch up? Mmm. Maybe, maybe not. Personally, I think we’ll see the peloton back together again, but I’ve been wrong before. Many, many times.
There’s a sprint in Rotterdam— which sounds like a Cary Grant movie— and it looks like the four frontrunners will be caught before we reach it. Back in the first bulk of the peloton, Mark Cavendish is starting to position himself. Surprisingly, no, the first four have gone through the sprint alone— barely ahead— but the race for 5th place is pretty heated. These four will probably not be in the overall points competition, so it’s all about consistency. Which means Mark Cavendish. There aren’t many points left for fifth, so he may save it for the bigger-total final sprint. Peter Sagan may not be taking the long view, though. Guess we’ll see.
Okay, well. Czech rider Jan Barta of German team Bora - Argon18. All by himself. Didn’t see that coming, either.
62km/40m to go, and I was right— peloton is one mass yet again. But off the back, but that’s normal. Oh, joy: it’s raining, now, too. This always makes me worry: a newly-wet road is an especially slippy road. Thankfully, it’s a fairly wide road, too, and flat. But that wind— ugh.
And fuck. Adam Hansen from Lotto has crashed. Painfully, it looks. But a change of bike as he tries to flex out his wet, mud-smeared leg, and he’s back on the road. Apparently, a few riders have had falls. But there are still 198 riders on the road, so nothing’s too bad yet.
Thankfully, the sun’s come out at the finish line, but the wind is still formidable. Out on the course, it’s changed direction: it’s coming from behind them. If that maintains, it’s going to make for a very fast, but a very dangerous sprint finish.
Okay. So. Closing in, and the peloton has done some damage here. There’s a huge split, and the riders stream past huge, modern windmills that perfectly illustrate why. Some big riders have made the front group, including sprinters and their lead-out guys. They’re determined not to let the rest of the field catch them, so they’re working together to make sure that doesn’t happen. It’s a nearly 40-second deficit now, which is formidable. (Aw— I’ve just heard Phil Liggett say “These are desperate moments in the Tour de France” for the first time. I feel completed.)
Closer and closer, and the two chase groups the wind made out of the peloton have become one again. They’re still chasing a group of 26 riders over a minute ahead, and only have 21 miles left to catch them.
Van Garderen, Froome, Contador, Cancellara, Cavendish— they’re all in the front group, with a lot more. Nibali is in the chase, and I can only imagine his frustration at getting caught out.
AUGH! Nibali has a flat tire! Christ almighty, could that happen at a worse time? He’s wearing the number 1 of last year’s Tour winner, and he’s absolutely in the worst position ever. He’s climbing back through the caravan of cars, drafting when he can (within legal limits) just to try and get back into it. No one will fault him for it— it’s massively unfortunate to have a flat, and he’s not using his own team car to do it. Can he get to the peloton? Finally, finally, he’s back in the peloton. Can he get back to the front? Back into the game? Well. That’s an entirely different story.
10 miles to go. The gap is a full minute. Daniele Benatti of Tinkoff Saxo has a flat, but he’s back on the road again in a snap. Peter Sagan has dropped back to see if he can help him catch up, as I’m sure he’d like another lead-out man for the final sprint.
And Peter Sagan has flatted! What the hell? New bike, and he’s pulled himself back to the lead group all by himself. G-d almighty.
AUGH! A crash! Losada of Katusha is down, a Movistar rider, a Lampre rider? There are roundabouts, and they’re wet— this is not surprising. Not at all. Six of them yet to go.
24 frontrunners now, with 10km to go. The rain has stopped, but there’s a sheen of water, still— over paint, it’s murderous.
The peloton is driving as hard as it can, but the break isn’t coming down at all. It’s gone up— 1.24. The only option they have is to keep pushing, keep pushing, to try and lessen the damage. It’s far too early to give up.
Closer and closer— the road narrows with spectators. Fabian Cancellara is bereft of teammates in the front group, but he knows if he gets close enough to the front, if he can cross third or better, the time bonus it’ll win him will put him in yellow.
1.22 now, and you can almost hear Nibali screaming. There’s no way the peloton can catch up. The sun is out, the wind has died, the 24 riders are closing in on the end.
They’re starting for the end! And it’s Andre Greipel of Lotto! Out of nowhere— i didn’t even know he was in there! The hell? Where was Cav? Augh— fourth! And Cancellara— yes, he’s made that third spot by half a wheel over Cavendish.
Wow. So that was a pretty unexpected stage. The peloton is coming in five minutes behind, and I’m surprised as hell— one doesn’t usually see splits this big this early.
Well, tomorrow is certainly going to be brutal. There are cobblestones, and a fairly hellish climb. It’s going to be fun. We shall see.