![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ysobelleStage Twenty: Modane to l’Alpe d’Huez, 110.5km
Another beautiful little French town, another easy depart, another roll through the neutral zone, and another explosive breakaway the second the flag goes down. Four men— Nicolas Edet, Ramunas Navardauskas, Lars Bak, and Alexandre Geniez— take off, and they are going hell for leather, easily outpacing the peloton.
This is a short stage, today, so anyone wanting to do something spectacular is going to have to do so early. Accordingly, early in the climb up the Col de la Croix-de-Fer— yes, the same col as yesterday only we’re going up the other direction today (it would have been the Col du Galibier, had there not been a landslide there recently)— there are already several attacks. There’s one off the front of the four breakaway riders, and then, back down the road, Valverde attacks form the peloton, and Quintana follows. By all accounts, the two Movistar riders have planned this— could this be the stage where Quintana goes from the second step on the podium to the top? He’s 2.38 down. It’s a mountain all to itself, but is the Best Young Rider enough to level it?
The leader, FdJ rider Alexandre Geniez, goes over the summit of the Col de la Croix-de-Fer alone, but there is so much happening behind him. Quintana leads Valverde over the summit, but Nibali has challenged Froome, who refuses to give an inch, and together, they outstrip Froome’s teammate, Richie Porte. Once over the top, Froome, who’s an excellent descender, catches up to Quintana. And slowly, the group of leaders begins to coalesce again, at 80 or 90kmph down the sweeping, gentle curves of the mountain road. Thank G-d this isn’t a technical descent, or someone would be flat on the ground, I’m sure. There are too many men here with too much to lose.
As they cross a gorge with an amazing waterfall in it that really looks like it should have a few dwarves, some elves, and a couple of hobbits traipsing along it, they’re back as a group of about fifteen to twenty. They haven’t caught Geniez, though. And as they slowly make their way to the beginning of the climb up l’Alpe d’Huez, we’ve settled into Geniez, two chase groups, and Froome in the peloton. It won’t last: Froome himself is a good climber, but most of the now-thirty or so guys around him may not be. Then again, that’s why he’s IN Yellow.
Ouf— off to the side, Nibali has flatted. He’s calm as his mechanic brings him a new bike from the car, making sure to take his water off the bike he’s discarding, and three teammates are right there to pace him back. But of all the times to flat, just as you begin to get into the rhythm of a giant climb? Not good. Not good at all.
Okay, two six-foot-tall bananas, a guy with an inflatable kangaroo on his head…okay.
Oh! Quintana is attacking! Richie Porte is right on him, making sure he stays with the young rider to keep Froome in contact. Porte manages to get in front of Quintana, pacing the entire group, keeping things calm. But it’s only for a few minutes— Quintana attacks again! This is his plan for the day: attack and attack and attack, and make today the day he goes for the win. Froome, who’s a good climber, but doesn’t have Quintana’s explosive climbing attack power, is staying steady, letting his teammates catch Quintana and keep him from getting too far away, but everyone is grinding. Today is not an easy day.
11km to the summit. The switchbacks have begun. We’re at about an 8% gradient now. The Yellow Jersey group is down to about nine now. The attacks are working. In fact, Valverde is breaking out, but he’s so far down the GC, no one is going to waste energy trying to catch him. Speaking of catches, Nibali, today’s winner of the “Worst Place Ever to Flat A Tire” Award, has, amazingly, managed to claw his way back to the group. Just in time to see Quintana attack AGAIN. Quintana pushes and pushes, knowing he’s got Valverde holding a spot for him just a few seconds ahead— clever plan! But Sky refuses to panic. Their sangfroid is remarkable, and is a big part of what’s kept Chris in Yellow all this time.
Up ahead, Thibaud Pinot, who’s been shoving on with Canadian rider Ryder Hesjedal of Cannondale Garmin, has managed to catch up to his FdJ teammate, Geniez. Hesjedal refuses to give up, though, and there are now three up there, leading the race. Well, for a moment: Geniez has done what he can, and gotten his team captain, Pinot, up to the front. Now he starts to fade back, job done.
Quintana Is working his way up through the dying riders of a chase group, and it’s now Winner Anacona setting a pace for him. He’s got 30 seconds on Froome at the moment. He needs a whole two minutes more, however, to take the top spot, and though he’s good, that’s a superhuman goal. Especially considering Froome has two teammates to help him— Richie Porte and Wout Poels— and Quintana only has one.
And there’s a guy with an Irish flag running alongside the Colombian, screaming “Allez allez allez!” Talk about international.
Geniez refuses to die completely, however, and he’s staying alive, keeping up with with a few other riders. All the groups now are single-file, making their way through the bat-shit crazy insanity that is Dutch Corner. Which is not a corner. Everyone is in orange, the road is painted in orange, someone's let off an orange smoke bomb, and the fanatics— seriously, there’s no one crazier about cycling than the Dutch— are barely separated enough to let the riders through. There are enough costumes to put this weekend’s Otakon to shame, and, just like Otakon, I can’t figure out what half of them are meant to be. I think I saw penguins. The noise is unbelievable. Unspeakable, but that’s mostly because there’s no point in trying to speak: no one could possibly hear you over the screaming din. There’s seriously a space of about 30”, if that, between the walls of screaming insanity: it parts like the Orange Sea before the riders, and flows back together again behind them.
Okay. There are four guys in green gimp suits, with stuffed turtle shells on their backs. Don’t look. Well…at least we’re well past the guy in the Borat mankini.
Thibaud Pinot is alone at the front, 5km from the summit. He knows right behind him is Winner Anacona and his teammate Nairo Quintana. And Quintana makes another attack! It’s amazing to see him go! There are Colombian flags all over the place!
My jaw is dropping. There’s a camera back on Chris, and I hope to fuck I’m hearing people screaming his name, because if they’re actually booing, I’m going to want to hit someone. Some asshole spit on him yesterday. Someone also apparently thew urine. Seriously: people like that aren’t cycling fans. They need to stay the hell home.
4km to the summit for Froome— Richie Porte has recovered, and is back to support him. But he’s over a minute down from Quintana, and they all need to hit it hard to catch up to the Colombian. Quintana knows he’s got Hesjedal and Pinot ahead of him, and that’s it. Quintana wants the stage win. He’s out for blood.
Winner Anacona cracks and slides backwards, and Quintana comes upon Hesjedal. Hesjedal refuses to go down without a fight, and shows an enormous amount of heart, but he just can’t do it. Now it’s only Pinot, and I’m betting he can hear Quintana sharpening his knife close behind. 27 seconds, but it’s uphill. Can he do it?
1.15 back, Froome is with Porte and Valverde and a Europcar rider I can’t quite see.
Pinot is not panicking, but I honestly can’t understand why. I’m panicking FOR him. But he’s under the Flamme Rouge— no, Quintana is only 22 seconds behind, and they’re both now on the flat of the town square! Behind them, Porte has cracked! Froome is alone now, and he has GOT to do his best to keep Quintana at bay!
We’re almost at the line— and yes! Pinot punches the air, clutches his helmet, and cheers! He’s done it— a Frenchman has won on l’Alpe d’Huez! Quintana is only 20 seconds behind, and still looking strong! And Hesjedal has held on! He’s third!
Here comes Froome! He’s got Valverde right there beside him and he’s not giving any quarter— but it’s good. He still has a solid lead in the GC, still, and he has all but won the Tour and assured his spot on the top of the podium tomorrow in Paris. And I feel like I’ve drunk eight cups of coffee. And I don’t drink coffee.
That’s pretty much the race, right there. Tomorrow is a ceremonial ride. In Armstrong’s heyday, he and his team would cruise the road arm in arm— however many of them were left— holding champagne flutes. There will be a final sprint on the flat of the Champs-Élysées tomorrow, and that will be exciting as hell, but the main work is done. It is, as they say, all over but the shouting.
Post-stage, cameras catch Geraint Thomas, asking how he feels now that it’s all done. “Oh, he did it?” he asks, not having spoken to anyone on his team yet. He doesn’t sound surprised, though. This is a man who has supreme confidence in his teammate. He’s proud of his team. And man, he should be. Sky did an incredible, almost unbelievable Tour. Jesus. They’re strategists, they’re scientists, and they’re athletes. They were a near-perfect team.
Thibaud Pinot takes his acclaim on the podium as stage winner, and of course, this is the time our broadcast chooses to show a montage of how his tour has gone: his multiple crashes and mechanicals, and— ulp— his temper tantrums, screaming at his mechanic at one point, thumping his bike on the ground in frustration at another. But as we saw yesterday, nothing clears a man’s reputation quite like victory, and the final shots are of his exultant face as he wins the stage.
Here’s Chris Froome getting his 8,425th yellow jersey (okay, 29th). He stands in the sun, shaking his head just a little. He can’t believe it. But he’s got it in hand— 1.12 over Quintana, and no one will touch him tomorrow. And then, remarkably, he comes back out again, because he’s also taken the Polka Dot Jersey of the King of the Mountains. Interestingly, since Froome will wear yellow tomorrow, and Quintana, who’s second in the KotM competition, will maintain the White Jersey of Best Young Rider, it will be Romain Bardet in spots tomorrow. Which is what he was wearing today, before the other two men displaced him. (Bardet is also second in the White Jersey race.)
Quintana gets his White Jersey on the podium, his head exactly the same height as one of the podium girls. That’s one short guy— but that’s to his advantage. He has less mass to drag up the mountains he climbs so well.
Chris Froome is interviewed now, and I’m seeing again that gaunt look and folded-paper lines around the mouth I saw on Armstrong for so many years at the end of the race. He’s incredulous, giving all of today’s credit to Richie Porte and Wout Poels and all his amazing teammates.
Peter Sagan gets his Green Jersey— his fourth now, in a row. As ever, when he opens his mouth to speak, I find myself having to refrain from giggling— his voice is so nasal, and for some reason, always makes me laugh. I think it’s also partly because the guy is such a trickster, always poking fun at people, running around laughing. He’s also quite hot.
I have a bottle of not-Champagne I may open tomorrow for the final, wonderful stage in Paris. Today was such an amazingly executed piece of strategy and skill. It’s been a great Tour. I’ll miss it.
Froome, Richie Porte, Wout Poels and Valverde take on the chaos that is Dutch Corner
Photograph: Tim de Waele/Corbis, via The Guardian
Another beautiful little French town, another easy depart, another roll through the neutral zone, and another explosive breakaway the second the flag goes down. Four men— Nicolas Edet, Ramunas Navardauskas, Lars Bak, and Alexandre Geniez— take off, and they are going hell for leather, easily outpacing the peloton.
This is a short stage, today, so anyone wanting to do something spectacular is going to have to do so early. Accordingly, early in the climb up the Col de la Croix-de-Fer— yes, the same col as yesterday only we’re going up the other direction today (it would have been the Col du Galibier, had there not been a landslide there recently)— there are already several attacks. There’s one off the front of the four breakaway riders, and then, back down the road, Valverde attacks form the peloton, and Quintana follows. By all accounts, the two Movistar riders have planned this— could this be the stage where Quintana goes from the second step on the podium to the top? He’s 2.38 down. It’s a mountain all to itself, but is the Best Young Rider enough to level it?
The leader, FdJ rider Alexandre Geniez, goes over the summit of the Col de la Croix-de-Fer alone, but there is so much happening behind him. Quintana leads Valverde over the summit, but Nibali has challenged Froome, who refuses to give an inch, and together, they outstrip Froome’s teammate, Richie Porte. Once over the top, Froome, who’s an excellent descender, catches up to Quintana. And slowly, the group of leaders begins to coalesce again, at 80 or 90kmph down the sweeping, gentle curves of the mountain road. Thank G-d this isn’t a technical descent, or someone would be flat on the ground, I’m sure. There are too many men here with too much to lose.
As they cross a gorge with an amazing waterfall in it that really looks like it should have a few dwarves, some elves, and a couple of hobbits traipsing along it, they’re back as a group of about fifteen to twenty. They haven’t caught Geniez, though. And as they slowly make their way to the beginning of the climb up l’Alpe d’Huez, we’ve settled into Geniez, two chase groups, and Froome in the peloton. It won’t last: Froome himself is a good climber, but most of the now-thirty or so guys around him may not be. Then again, that’s why he’s IN Yellow.
Ouf— off to the side, Nibali has flatted. He’s calm as his mechanic brings him a new bike from the car, making sure to take his water off the bike he’s discarding, and three teammates are right there to pace him back. But of all the times to flat, just as you begin to get into the rhythm of a giant climb? Not good. Not good at all.
Okay, two six-foot-tall bananas, a guy with an inflatable kangaroo on his head…okay.
Oh! Quintana is attacking! Richie Porte is right on him, making sure he stays with the young rider to keep Froome in contact. Porte manages to get in front of Quintana, pacing the entire group, keeping things calm. But it’s only for a few minutes— Quintana attacks again! This is his plan for the day: attack and attack and attack, and make today the day he goes for the win. Froome, who’s a good climber, but doesn’t have Quintana’s explosive climbing attack power, is staying steady, letting his teammates catch Quintana and keep him from getting too far away, but everyone is grinding. Today is not an easy day.
11km to the summit. The switchbacks have begun. We’re at about an 8% gradient now. The Yellow Jersey group is down to about nine now. The attacks are working. In fact, Valverde is breaking out, but he’s so far down the GC, no one is going to waste energy trying to catch him. Speaking of catches, Nibali, today’s winner of the “Worst Place Ever to Flat A Tire” Award, has, amazingly, managed to claw his way back to the group. Just in time to see Quintana attack AGAIN. Quintana pushes and pushes, knowing he’s got Valverde holding a spot for him just a few seconds ahead— clever plan! But Sky refuses to panic. Their sangfroid is remarkable, and is a big part of what’s kept Chris in Yellow all this time.
Up ahead, Thibaud Pinot, who’s been shoving on with Canadian rider Ryder Hesjedal of Cannondale Garmin, has managed to catch up to his FdJ teammate, Geniez. Hesjedal refuses to give up, though, and there are now three up there, leading the race. Well, for a moment: Geniez has done what he can, and gotten his team captain, Pinot, up to the front. Now he starts to fade back, job done.
Quintana Is working his way up through the dying riders of a chase group, and it’s now Winner Anacona setting a pace for him. He’s got 30 seconds on Froome at the moment. He needs a whole two minutes more, however, to take the top spot, and though he’s good, that’s a superhuman goal. Especially considering Froome has two teammates to help him— Richie Porte and Wout Poels— and Quintana only has one.
And there’s a guy with an Irish flag running alongside the Colombian, screaming “Allez allez allez!” Talk about international.
Geniez refuses to die completely, however, and he’s staying alive, keeping up with with a few other riders. All the groups now are single-file, making their way through the bat-shit crazy insanity that is Dutch Corner. Which is not a corner. Everyone is in orange, the road is painted in orange, someone's let off an orange smoke bomb, and the fanatics— seriously, there’s no one crazier about cycling than the Dutch— are barely separated enough to let the riders through. There are enough costumes to put this weekend’s Otakon to shame, and, just like Otakon, I can’t figure out what half of them are meant to be. I think I saw penguins. The noise is unbelievable. Unspeakable, but that’s mostly because there’s no point in trying to speak: no one could possibly hear you over the screaming din. There’s seriously a space of about 30”, if that, between the walls of screaming insanity: it parts like the Orange Sea before the riders, and flows back together again behind them.
Okay. There are four guys in green gimp suits, with stuffed turtle shells on their backs. Don’t look. Well…at least we’re well past the guy in the Borat mankini.
Thibaud Pinot is alone at the front, 5km from the summit. He knows right behind him is Winner Anacona and his teammate Nairo Quintana. And Quintana makes another attack! It’s amazing to see him go! There are Colombian flags all over the place!
My jaw is dropping. There’s a camera back on Chris, and I hope to fuck I’m hearing people screaming his name, because if they’re actually booing, I’m going to want to hit someone. Some asshole spit on him yesterday. Someone also apparently thew urine. Seriously: people like that aren’t cycling fans. They need to stay the hell home.
4km to the summit for Froome— Richie Porte has recovered, and is back to support him. But he’s over a minute down from Quintana, and they all need to hit it hard to catch up to the Colombian. Quintana knows he’s got Hesjedal and Pinot ahead of him, and that’s it. Quintana wants the stage win. He’s out for blood.
Winner Anacona cracks and slides backwards, and Quintana comes upon Hesjedal. Hesjedal refuses to go down without a fight, and shows an enormous amount of heart, but he just can’t do it. Now it’s only Pinot, and I’m betting he can hear Quintana sharpening his knife close behind. 27 seconds, but it’s uphill. Can he do it?
1.15 back, Froome is with Porte and Valverde and a Europcar rider I can’t quite see.
Pinot is not panicking, but I honestly can’t understand why. I’m panicking FOR him. But he’s under the Flamme Rouge— no, Quintana is only 22 seconds behind, and they’re both now on the flat of the town square! Behind them, Porte has cracked! Froome is alone now, and he has GOT to do his best to keep Quintana at bay!
We’re almost at the line— and yes! Pinot punches the air, clutches his helmet, and cheers! He’s done it— a Frenchman has won on l’Alpe d’Huez! Quintana is only 20 seconds behind, and still looking strong! And Hesjedal has held on! He’s third!
Here comes Froome! He’s got Valverde right there beside him and he’s not giving any quarter— but it’s good. He still has a solid lead in the GC, still, and he has all but won the Tour and assured his spot on the top of the podium tomorrow in Paris. And I feel like I’ve drunk eight cups of coffee. And I don’t drink coffee.
That’s pretty much the race, right there. Tomorrow is a ceremonial ride. In Armstrong’s heyday, he and his team would cruise the road arm in arm— however many of them were left— holding champagne flutes. There will be a final sprint on the flat of the Champs-Élysées tomorrow, and that will be exciting as hell, but the main work is done. It is, as they say, all over but the shouting.
Post-stage, cameras catch Geraint Thomas, asking how he feels now that it’s all done. “Oh, he did it?” he asks, not having spoken to anyone on his team yet. He doesn’t sound surprised, though. This is a man who has supreme confidence in his teammate. He’s proud of his team. And man, he should be. Sky did an incredible, almost unbelievable Tour. Jesus. They’re strategists, they’re scientists, and they’re athletes. They were a near-perfect team.
Thibaud Pinot takes his acclaim on the podium as stage winner, and of course, this is the time our broadcast chooses to show a montage of how his tour has gone: his multiple crashes and mechanicals, and— ulp— his temper tantrums, screaming at his mechanic at one point, thumping his bike on the ground in frustration at another. But as we saw yesterday, nothing clears a man’s reputation quite like victory, and the final shots are of his exultant face as he wins the stage.
Here’s Chris Froome getting his 8,425th yellow jersey (okay, 29th). He stands in the sun, shaking his head just a little. He can’t believe it. But he’s got it in hand— 1.12 over Quintana, and no one will touch him tomorrow. And then, remarkably, he comes back out again, because he’s also taken the Polka Dot Jersey of the King of the Mountains. Interestingly, since Froome will wear yellow tomorrow, and Quintana, who’s second in the KotM competition, will maintain the White Jersey of Best Young Rider, it will be Romain Bardet in spots tomorrow. Which is what he was wearing today, before the other two men displaced him. (Bardet is also second in the White Jersey race.)
Quintana gets his White Jersey on the podium, his head exactly the same height as one of the podium girls. That’s one short guy— but that’s to his advantage. He has less mass to drag up the mountains he climbs so well.
Chris Froome is interviewed now, and I’m seeing again that gaunt look and folded-paper lines around the mouth I saw on Armstrong for so many years at the end of the race. He’s incredulous, giving all of today’s credit to Richie Porte and Wout Poels and all his amazing teammates.
Peter Sagan gets his Green Jersey— his fourth now, in a row. As ever, when he opens his mouth to speak, I find myself having to refrain from giggling— his voice is so nasal, and for some reason, always makes me laugh. I think it’s also partly because the guy is such a trickster, always poking fun at people, running around laughing. He’s also quite hot.
I have a bottle of not-Champagne I may open tomorrow for the final, wonderful stage in Paris. Today was such an amazingly executed piece of strategy and skill. It’s been a great Tour. I’ll miss it.
Froome, Richie Porte, Wout Poels and Valverde take on the chaos that is Dutch Corner
Photograph: Tim de Waele/Corbis, via The Guardian