![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ysobelleLooking at the route to today's race, two things are obvious. First, the organisers want to show off the beauties of London and southeastern England. And second: they're sadistic bastards who want to demonstrate that they can plot a race every bit as cruel as a Grand Tour stage.
Six hours. The distance from Philly to New York and back. Nine ten-mile circuits of Box Hill. Incredibly narrow roads edged with thick hedgerows. This is definitely a race that's meaning to be a race, not an exhibition.
The British team is pretty much a Dream Team. Bradley Wiggins, fresh from his win of the Tour De France just one week ago. He's not expected to win here today-- he's here to support the Manx Missile, Mark Cavendish, who, if he's in the right place at the end, could turn on those infamous afterburners and leave this impressive field in his smoke. Chris Froome, who finished second to teammate Wiggins last Sunday in Paris and, some say, could easily have been first had he not been fulfilling his team role. David Millar, storied Brit rider, who won a stage at this year's Tour. And Ian Stannard, not only a key lead out man for Cavendish, but the British National Road Racing Champion.
Half an hour in, and we have a breakaway of twelve as we come to the Diana Fountain, on the way to Hampton Court. Amusingly, there is a single Spanish rider who goes to the right around the enormous circular pond whilst the peloton goes left. Oh, and of course: there's a dog on the course. Do people NEVER learn? (No one hit the dog, don't worry.)
The crowds are MASSIVE. Absolutely packed the entire route. This is, after all, the only event any and everyone can attend, and for free. People pack the roadsides, cheering their guts out, and right in front of them, champion Bradley Wiggins leads the peloton. He rang the Olympic bell last night at the Opening Ceremonies in an unmarked yellow cycling jersey (no advertising allowed), and now, here he is, right there on the road.
The twelve men of the breakaway have formed a double line, moving up one line, taking a moment on the front of the formation, then moving over and back through the other line, around and around. At this point, all national teams are working together to keep their lead, now up to two minutes. Australian Stuart O'Grady, Russian Denis Menchov, Belgian Jurgen Roelandts, Swiss rider Michael Schar, Slovenian Jani Brajkovic, Italian Marco Pinotti, Tour Green Jersey winner and this race's only Slovakian, Peter Sagan, Dutch Nicki Terpstra, US National Road Champion Tim Duggan-- this is a who's who of top world cyclists. Sole Korean entrant Sung Baek Park is also there, though I've never seen him race before. There are two other riders in there, but I can't see who they are.
There's a very poignant TV tribute to Wouter Weylandt, the 26-year-old Leopard-Trek rider killed on a stage of the Giro last year. It's part of a short profile of American rider Tyler Farrar, his best friend, and big hope for the US in this race. There's the terribly sad but now-iconic shot of the entire Leopard-Trek team crossing the line arm in arm on the next day's neutralised stage, with Farrar, who rode for Garmin at the time, right there in the middle, crying. Though he flew home later that day, simply-- understandably-- unable to continue the Giro, he went on to win a stage of that year's Tour de France for his friend, holding up his hands in a "W" as he crossed the line.
The breakaway's up to three minutes, now. With nearly five hours left to ride, no one's particularly worried. It's strange to me that this is a one-day race. A classic, as it's called in cycling. I'm used to multi-stage races where it's all a long game: whoever wins today isn't as important as who's got the best time by the end of the week.
Oh. They've just said there are no radios today. Huh. Well, that explains why the Spanish rider in the breakaway went back to the red official's car to find out their time advantage. This also is something to which I'm very much unused. Also: I'm watching this live. There's no time delay.
Trivia: When Luis Leon Sanchez won his stage in this year's Tour, his crossing himself was in memory of his brother, killed in a traffic accident several years ago.
Oh, G-d. A big number of riders are taking what's genteelly called a "natural break," but there's nowhere else for the camera to go. So one after the other, the camera motorcycle passes about a dozen guys at the side of the road, peeing into the bushes. I almost thought veteran commentator Paul Sherwin wouldn't mention it, except that it's very obvious the peloton is easing up in consideration thereof.
Two hours in, now. The breakaway is over Box Hill, and with twelve men, it's still very strong. They're coming down the slope whilst the peloton, now led by the Germans, is going up. The German team's big hope is Andre Greipel, who won several stages this month at the Tour.
Coming off Box Hill, they're up to 50mph. And at last, there's an attack off the front of the peloton. It's Michael Rogers, one of the stars of Australian cycling. There's some pressure for presumptive favourites, the home team. The Australians also have Matty Goss in their arsenal, and they'll be looking to position him for the final sprint. Rogers is now halfway between the peloton and the breakaway, which is eight minutes from the field. The Korean rider, Park, has dropped from the breakaway. I'm not surprised-- I'm ashamed to say I didn't know there even WERE Korean riders, and there's certainly not a Korean team. It's likely that he'll meet up with Rogers, and they may be able to help each other.
The narrow roads are definitely playing a part in this race. It's very difficult to maneuver through if you're at the back of the field, which is where we see American rider Chris Horner. I have to say: if they continue to marvel at how old he is, I may scream. Yes, he's the oldest rider in the race, but 40? Really? I don't think he's quite ready for Social Security yet, guys. Though I also have to say, I'm surprised some days to see him, considering how terrifying to see was his crash and subsequent concussed confusion at last year's Tour. Bloody-faced, he kept asking, "Did I finish the stage? What happened? Did I finish? Was there a crash? Did I finish?" as they strapped him onto a gurney and took him to hospital.
Ah, Michael Rogers is back with the field now. It was a good attempt, but a Herculean task to bridge an eight-minute gap all alone. Vicenzo Nibali of Italy put the hammer down, now, pulling a group of four other riders forward-- two Belgians, a Swiss and a Dutch rider. Will the peloton follow? Well, yes and no. By the time they hit the summit of the Box Hill climb, there are several groups splintered off the front of the peloton. The lead group of eleven is down now to less than five minutes away. Paul Sherwin seems to think the whole field will be back together by the time they're back to London, and there'll be another split before the end, everyone trying to foil Team Sky-- I mean, Team Great Britain's plan to have Mark Cavendish in the right spot at the right time to win. But Britain's having none of it-- calm and determined, they're leading the peloton at a steady pace. They won't be shaken.
It's a very funny thing to see the guy who won the Tour de France six days ago playing Domestique to his teammates. Wiggins went back to the team car, filled the back of his jersey with water bottles, and threaded his way back to his teammates at the front of the field to distribute them. But unlike the nine riders per team of the Grand Tour races (the Giro d'Italia, the Tour de France, and the Vuelta a España), these teams have a maximum of five riders. I'm sure it's nearer to impossible for the solo riders to keep hydrated. But then again, that's what neutral cars are for. (The purple cars in the caravan that follows/intersperses the race.)
Three groups now. Eleven leaders, the peloton, and a group in between. It's becoming obvious that every turn up Box Hill will bring an attack, as each team tries to break up the race. The peloton is having none of it-- following relentlessly, gaining inexorably. It's strange to see an Olympic peloton. It's vastly simpler in terms of colour and graphics-- there are no ads in every square inch of lycra, and all the colours seem brighter and simpler. I suppose part of that has to be so that everyone on the road can actually see their team. The Belgians have chosen a throwback design of robin's egg blue, with the colours of their flag in bands around the upper torso. I'm almost surprised their jerseys aren't wool as well.
The second group has American Taylor Phinney in it. That could be a good move. I still think they'll all be together again before they get to London. And oh, dear G-d, there are people at the finish line in that fair city wearing Mark Cavendish masks. That's awesome.
Nine times up a 5% incline hill. The breakaway's down to two-plus minutes away. It's a war of attrition now. More concretely, Tony Martin of Germany has abandoned, his job working for Andre Greipel done. He'll be concentrating on Wednesday's time trial now.
The breakaway groups have melded, which makes this bunch of twenty-plus racers dangerous. But they're now only 45 seconds ahead of the main field. On we go, and the groups meld and break again. I find I'm missing the ticker across the bottom of the screen in the Grand Tours that help keep track of how many breakaways and chases there are, and how far from the peloton.
One last circuit of this damned hill. 54k left to go. Belgian rider Phillipe Gilbert has broken away from everyone, out in front by himself. Back in the peloton, Bernard Eisel, who's riding for his own two-man Austrian team, is close to his good friend Mark Cavendish. Will he help him at the end? Well, probably not, but it's interesting to see them ride together. Gustav Larsson of Sweden stages his own breakaway. There's a sense of urgency growing in the race. Gilbert is well ahead, and crosses the summit of Box Hill for the final time, all alone. It's 43 seconds to the chase group, and farther back still to the peloton-- 1.23 total. One more time through the feed zone. The Belgian fans out on the course are screaming, waving enormous flags.
Gilbert is a serious contender. He's a high-ranking , world-class cyclist, with a lot of trophies on his mantel. This season hasn't gone as well for him-- could this be his event? One Olympic gold medal will redeem an entire career. Team Great Britain is having none of this breakaway silliness. They're still at the front of the peloton, pushing away in pursuit.
Twenty-five miles left. At last, we're back on the road to London. There's still a breakaway of 20, 25 men, and they're a minute ahead. The Belgians are in the peloton, pulling for Tom Boonen. The Germans are for Andre Greipel. And-- oh! There's Hampton Court! Pardon me a moment while I pine. ...Anyway. Great Britain has two riders ahead of Mark Cavendish now, and I'm wondering where the other riders have gone. It seems to be Wiggins and Stannard, so I'm unsure of the fate of Millar and Froome. Bernie Eisel is still in there with his Team Sky mates, and I'm really wondering how that's going to play out, since it's highly unlikely he'll go for the win himself.
SON OF A BITCH! Fabian Cancellara, one of the world's top cyclists, has a crash-- sliding over, and straight into the barriers on a sharp right-hand turn! Race Radio says he's back up and riding only a few seconds later, but it's unlikely he'll get back to the front. This is rather shocking-- but the Swiss rider is an amazing time trialist, so we'll have to see what happens Wednesday. The cameras find him shortly, and he's riding on one arm, gingerly flexing his bleeding right arm. He falls back, signaling for the race doctor's car. Dammit.
American Tejay van Garderen is pushing the pace near the front, but it's still Bradley Wiggins leading the peloton. Back further, Tom Boonen has flatted! He'll have to waste precious energy to get back to the front.
31 riders in the lead group. 7km to go, and now it's Alexandre Vinokourov, who was supposed to have retired after an horrendous, bone-snapping crash that sent him hurtling into a tree-filled ditch last year, is off the front, his turquoise Kazakhstan jersey looking very much like his usual Astana jersey-- unsurprising, since Astana is a state team. Rigoberto Uran of Colombia is with him. Off they go, getting further and further up the road. Okay, who's going to catch them?
Oh, wow. Bradley Wiggins is off the back, now. It's become obvious that the peloton left it too late to catch the breakaway, and there's no way he can do a lead out for Mark Cavendish. Cav must be frustrated as hell. The organisation is fractured at the front of the peloton as they pass Harrod's. Taylor Phinney is near the front, but where's Cav?
Can they catch the two leaders? Am I really seeing what I think I'm seeing? Could Vinokourov-- oh, my G-d!
I'm sitting here with my jaw open. Vinokourov? This is a guy who was suspended for two years for doping, came back clean, and raced with a fervour to clear his reputation. He is now an Olympic old medalist. This, they say, is his 70th career win. He's 38! I'm amazed. In fact, that's all the commentators can say-- they're just as surprised.
The teams pull in, dismount, lean against their bikes, looking for all the world like they've been out for a walk. Those who will be back on the same teams in a week seem to drift towards each other. Taylor Phinney sighs on the curb, looking dejected. Chris Horner-- and of course, another mention of how exceedingly OLD he is. Some minutes later, Fabian Cancellara rolls in, still on one arm. Shortly thereafter, there's a heartbreaking shot of him being hugged by his coach, his head down, face covered in the crook of the older man's arm, utterly, quietly distraught.
This is not at all the race anyone thought it would be. I've been thinking all summer I knew who would be up on that podium, but while I remember Vino all the way back to his days riding with Lance Armstrong, I've never heard of Rigoberto Uran, nor, I don't think, Norway's Alexander Kristoff, who took bronze. But that's good. I like seeing how many riders there are out there from countries I've never seen in a Grand Tour. I love the fact that the Tour's just had its first Japanese riders. I'm astonished that there are Iranian and Uruguayan and Malaysian riders, and I love what that means for the future of the sport.
It wasn't the race I expected, and I feel for Cav, the Manx Missile. But for most of these guys, there's always the Vuelta in the fall. The Tour next year. And for some of them, Rio in four.
Six hours. The distance from Philly to New York and back. Nine ten-mile circuits of Box Hill. Incredibly narrow roads edged with thick hedgerows. This is definitely a race that's meaning to be a race, not an exhibition.
The British team is pretty much a Dream Team. Bradley Wiggins, fresh from his win of the Tour De France just one week ago. He's not expected to win here today-- he's here to support the Manx Missile, Mark Cavendish, who, if he's in the right place at the end, could turn on those infamous afterburners and leave this impressive field in his smoke. Chris Froome, who finished second to teammate Wiggins last Sunday in Paris and, some say, could easily have been first had he not been fulfilling his team role. David Millar, storied Brit rider, who won a stage at this year's Tour. And Ian Stannard, not only a key lead out man for Cavendish, but the British National Road Racing Champion.
Half an hour in, and we have a breakaway of twelve as we come to the Diana Fountain, on the way to Hampton Court. Amusingly, there is a single Spanish rider who goes to the right around the enormous circular pond whilst the peloton goes left. Oh, and of course: there's a dog on the course. Do people NEVER learn? (No one hit the dog, don't worry.)
The crowds are MASSIVE. Absolutely packed the entire route. This is, after all, the only event any and everyone can attend, and for free. People pack the roadsides, cheering their guts out, and right in front of them, champion Bradley Wiggins leads the peloton. He rang the Olympic bell last night at the Opening Ceremonies in an unmarked yellow cycling jersey (no advertising allowed), and now, here he is, right there on the road.
The twelve men of the breakaway have formed a double line, moving up one line, taking a moment on the front of the formation, then moving over and back through the other line, around and around. At this point, all national teams are working together to keep their lead, now up to two minutes. Australian Stuart O'Grady, Russian Denis Menchov, Belgian Jurgen Roelandts, Swiss rider Michael Schar, Slovenian Jani Brajkovic, Italian Marco Pinotti, Tour Green Jersey winner and this race's only Slovakian, Peter Sagan, Dutch Nicki Terpstra, US National Road Champion Tim Duggan-- this is a who's who of top world cyclists. Sole Korean entrant Sung Baek Park is also there, though I've never seen him race before. There are two other riders in there, but I can't see who they are.
There's a very poignant TV tribute to Wouter Weylandt, the 26-year-old Leopard-Trek rider killed on a stage of the Giro last year. It's part of a short profile of American rider Tyler Farrar, his best friend, and big hope for the US in this race. There's the terribly sad but now-iconic shot of the entire Leopard-Trek team crossing the line arm in arm on the next day's neutralised stage, with Farrar, who rode for Garmin at the time, right there in the middle, crying. Though he flew home later that day, simply-- understandably-- unable to continue the Giro, he went on to win a stage of that year's Tour de France for his friend, holding up his hands in a "W" as he crossed the line.
The breakaway's up to three minutes, now. With nearly five hours left to ride, no one's particularly worried. It's strange to me that this is a one-day race. A classic, as it's called in cycling. I'm used to multi-stage races where it's all a long game: whoever wins today isn't as important as who's got the best time by the end of the week.
Oh. They've just said there are no radios today. Huh. Well, that explains why the Spanish rider in the breakaway went back to the red official's car to find out their time advantage. This also is something to which I'm very much unused. Also: I'm watching this live. There's no time delay.
Trivia: When Luis Leon Sanchez won his stage in this year's Tour, his crossing himself was in memory of his brother, killed in a traffic accident several years ago.
Oh, G-d. A big number of riders are taking what's genteelly called a "natural break," but there's nowhere else for the camera to go. So one after the other, the camera motorcycle passes about a dozen guys at the side of the road, peeing into the bushes. I almost thought veteran commentator Paul Sherwin wouldn't mention it, except that it's very obvious the peloton is easing up in consideration thereof.
Two hours in, now. The breakaway is over Box Hill, and with twelve men, it's still very strong. They're coming down the slope whilst the peloton, now led by the Germans, is going up. The German team's big hope is Andre Greipel, who won several stages this month at the Tour.
Coming off Box Hill, they're up to 50mph. And at last, there's an attack off the front of the peloton. It's Michael Rogers, one of the stars of Australian cycling. There's some pressure for presumptive favourites, the home team. The Australians also have Matty Goss in their arsenal, and they'll be looking to position him for the final sprint. Rogers is now halfway between the peloton and the breakaway, which is eight minutes from the field. The Korean rider, Park, has dropped from the breakaway. I'm not surprised-- I'm ashamed to say I didn't know there even WERE Korean riders, and there's certainly not a Korean team. It's likely that he'll meet up with Rogers, and they may be able to help each other.
The narrow roads are definitely playing a part in this race. It's very difficult to maneuver through if you're at the back of the field, which is where we see American rider Chris Horner. I have to say: if they continue to marvel at how old he is, I may scream. Yes, he's the oldest rider in the race, but 40? Really? I don't think he's quite ready for Social Security yet, guys. Though I also have to say, I'm surprised some days to see him, considering how terrifying to see was his crash and subsequent concussed confusion at last year's Tour. Bloody-faced, he kept asking, "Did I finish the stage? What happened? Did I finish? Was there a crash? Did I finish?" as they strapped him onto a gurney and took him to hospital.
Ah, Michael Rogers is back with the field now. It was a good attempt, but a Herculean task to bridge an eight-minute gap all alone. Vicenzo Nibali of Italy put the hammer down, now, pulling a group of four other riders forward-- two Belgians, a Swiss and a Dutch rider. Will the peloton follow? Well, yes and no. By the time they hit the summit of the Box Hill climb, there are several groups splintered off the front of the peloton. The lead group of eleven is down now to less than five minutes away. Paul Sherwin seems to think the whole field will be back together by the time they're back to London, and there'll be another split before the end, everyone trying to foil Team Sky-- I mean, Team Great Britain's plan to have Mark Cavendish in the right spot at the right time to win. But Britain's having none of it-- calm and determined, they're leading the peloton at a steady pace. They won't be shaken.
It's a very funny thing to see the guy who won the Tour de France six days ago playing Domestique to his teammates. Wiggins went back to the team car, filled the back of his jersey with water bottles, and threaded his way back to his teammates at the front of the field to distribute them. But unlike the nine riders per team of the Grand Tour races (the Giro d'Italia, the Tour de France, and the Vuelta a España), these teams have a maximum of five riders. I'm sure it's nearer to impossible for the solo riders to keep hydrated. But then again, that's what neutral cars are for. (The purple cars in the caravan that follows/intersperses the race.)
Three groups now. Eleven leaders, the peloton, and a group in between. It's becoming obvious that every turn up Box Hill will bring an attack, as each team tries to break up the race. The peloton is having none of it-- following relentlessly, gaining inexorably. It's strange to see an Olympic peloton. It's vastly simpler in terms of colour and graphics-- there are no ads in every square inch of lycra, and all the colours seem brighter and simpler. I suppose part of that has to be so that everyone on the road can actually see their team. The Belgians have chosen a throwback design of robin's egg blue, with the colours of their flag in bands around the upper torso. I'm almost surprised their jerseys aren't wool as well.
The second group has American Taylor Phinney in it. That could be a good move. I still think they'll all be together again before they get to London. And oh, dear G-d, there are people at the finish line in that fair city wearing Mark Cavendish masks. That's awesome.
Nine times up a 5% incline hill. The breakaway's down to two-plus minutes away. It's a war of attrition now. More concretely, Tony Martin of Germany has abandoned, his job working for Andre Greipel done. He'll be concentrating on Wednesday's time trial now.
The breakaway groups have melded, which makes this bunch of twenty-plus racers dangerous. But they're now only 45 seconds ahead of the main field. On we go, and the groups meld and break again. I find I'm missing the ticker across the bottom of the screen in the Grand Tours that help keep track of how many breakaways and chases there are, and how far from the peloton.
One last circuit of this damned hill. 54k left to go. Belgian rider Phillipe Gilbert has broken away from everyone, out in front by himself. Back in the peloton, Bernard Eisel, who's riding for his own two-man Austrian team, is close to his good friend Mark Cavendish. Will he help him at the end? Well, probably not, but it's interesting to see them ride together. Gustav Larsson of Sweden stages his own breakaway. There's a sense of urgency growing in the race. Gilbert is well ahead, and crosses the summit of Box Hill for the final time, all alone. It's 43 seconds to the chase group, and farther back still to the peloton-- 1.23 total. One more time through the feed zone. The Belgian fans out on the course are screaming, waving enormous flags.
Gilbert is a serious contender. He's a high-ranking , world-class cyclist, with a lot of trophies on his mantel. This season hasn't gone as well for him-- could this be his event? One Olympic gold medal will redeem an entire career. Team Great Britain is having none of this breakaway silliness. They're still at the front of the peloton, pushing away in pursuit.
Twenty-five miles left. At last, we're back on the road to London. There's still a breakaway of 20, 25 men, and they're a minute ahead. The Belgians are in the peloton, pulling for Tom Boonen. The Germans are for Andre Greipel. And-- oh! There's Hampton Court! Pardon me a moment while I pine. ...Anyway. Great Britain has two riders ahead of Mark Cavendish now, and I'm wondering where the other riders have gone. It seems to be Wiggins and Stannard, so I'm unsure of the fate of Millar and Froome. Bernie Eisel is still in there with his Team Sky mates, and I'm really wondering how that's going to play out, since it's highly unlikely he'll go for the win himself.
SON OF A BITCH! Fabian Cancellara, one of the world's top cyclists, has a crash-- sliding over, and straight into the barriers on a sharp right-hand turn! Race Radio says he's back up and riding only a few seconds later, but it's unlikely he'll get back to the front. This is rather shocking-- but the Swiss rider is an amazing time trialist, so we'll have to see what happens Wednesday. The cameras find him shortly, and he's riding on one arm, gingerly flexing his bleeding right arm. He falls back, signaling for the race doctor's car. Dammit.
American Tejay van Garderen is pushing the pace near the front, but it's still Bradley Wiggins leading the peloton. Back further, Tom Boonen has flatted! He'll have to waste precious energy to get back to the front.
31 riders in the lead group. 7km to go, and now it's Alexandre Vinokourov, who was supposed to have retired after an horrendous, bone-snapping crash that sent him hurtling into a tree-filled ditch last year, is off the front, his turquoise Kazakhstan jersey looking very much like his usual Astana jersey-- unsurprising, since Astana is a state team. Rigoberto Uran of Colombia is with him. Off they go, getting further and further up the road. Okay, who's going to catch them?
Oh, wow. Bradley Wiggins is off the back, now. It's become obvious that the peloton left it too late to catch the breakaway, and there's no way he can do a lead out for Mark Cavendish. Cav must be frustrated as hell. The organisation is fractured at the front of the peloton as they pass Harrod's. Taylor Phinney is near the front, but where's Cav?
Can they catch the two leaders? Am I really seeing what I think I'm seeing? Could Vinokourov-- oh, my G-d!
I'm sitting here with my jaw open. Vinokourov? This is a guy who was suspended for two years for doping, came back clean, and raced with a fervour to clear his reputation. He is now an Olympic old medalist. This, they say, is his 70th career win. He's 38! I'm amazed. In fact, that's all the commentators can say-- they're just as surprised.
The teams pull in, dismount, lean against their bikes, looking for all the world like they've been out for a walk. Those who will be back on the same teams in a week seem to drift towards each other. Taylor Phinney sighs on the curb, looking dejected. Chris Horner-- and of course, another mention of how exceedingly OLD he is. Some minutes later, Fabian Cancellara rolls in, still on one arm. Shortly thereafter, there's a heartbreaking shot of him being hugged by his coach, his head down, face covered in the crook of the older man's arm, utterly, quietly distraught.
This is not at all the race anyone thought it would be. I've been thinking all summer I knew who would be up on that podium, but while I remember Vino all the way back to his days riding with Lance Armstrong, I've never heard of Rigoberto Uran, nor, I don't think, Norway's Alexander Kristoff, who took bronze. But that's good. I like seeing how many riders there are out there from countries I've never seen in a Grand Tour. I love the fact that the Tour's just had its first Japanese riders. I'm astonished that there are Iranian and Uruguayan and Malaysian riders, and I love what that means for the future of the sport.
It wasn't the race I expected, and I feel for Cav, the Manx Missile. But for most of these guys, there's always the Vuelta in the fall. The Tour next year. And for some of them, Rio in four.