Friends: And it comes down to the time trial just like last year. Instead of having to overcome a deficit, Andy Schleck has to preserve his advantage. It will only be a slightly easier task than last year as he gets to ride last, and will know the time of Evans that he has to beat. Evans is superior at this discipline, but Schleck surprised everyone last year with his great effort to nearly overcome Contador, so he can not be discounted.
Evans has proven himself the stronger rider on stage after stage this year and has had to do a considerable amount of time trialing chasing breakaways and also breaking away himself. It will be an injustice if he does not win The Tour. This could be his last chance. Schleck is much younger and will have many opportunities in the future, so I'll be rooting for Evans as will the Aussies David and Rowan over at the Big Screen as soon as I send this off.
I was able to ride a good portion of the 26 mile time trial route in and out of Grenoble this morning after camping at just beyond the 25 kilometer to go mark. But I also had to walk a few miles of it, as some over zealous gendarmes wouldn't even let me ride on the sidewalk or the bike path along the route. They said the route was closed from eight a.m. to five p.m. and no ifs and or buts about it. I had managed six miles by 8:30 when I was first ordered off my bike, ten miles from the finish.
This wasn't the most idiotic of orders though from the gendarmes this year. That came in Gap when Dave, David, Rowan and I tried to slip through a gap in the barriers to go to a supermarket. The cop said we couldn't move the fencing. When we said we would put it back he refused. So we had to bike 100 meters further and then hoist our bikes over the barriers. Mine was too heavy and I was not in need of food anyway, so I just biked a little ways up the road and waited for the others to rejoin me.
As infuriating as this latest order was not being able to ride on the bike path or sidewalk even though they were empty of people and the road was a dead zone, I have suffered such mindlessness over the years I stoically accepted it. After fifteen minutes of walking along a stretch where there were gendarmes all too frequently I came to a long stretch through the woods with no intersections requiring officers. I was able to ride a couple of miles and then walked for another mile until I finally entered the urban sprawl of Grenoble and could ride a parallel street for a bit and then a bike path that was amply separated from the roadway that I could bike with impunity the last four miles.
I was the only one attempting to ride the course. There were already fans gathered along the route even though the first rider wouldn't be coming along for nearly three hours. The Devil was stalking the course at the three kilometer to go mark. I received a pat on the back as I passed and another exuberant chorus of "Musée, musée," now my own personal chant rather than his usual "allez, allez."
The Big Screen was at the 250-meter to go mark and had yet to be turned on at this early hour of 9:30. I hadn't passed any supermarkets so I continued on past the finish line towards another outskirts of Grenoble and found what I needed.
Yesterday was a rare stage where the entire stage was telecast since it was so short, only 70 miles, so short there wasn't even a feed zone. We were able to see the initial breakaway form. That is often the most exciting racing of the day, but today's was short-lived and hardly mattered as the first nine miles of the stage were a slight down hill and then the climb to the Galibier began, first over the Col de Telegraph. Contador did as Schleck did yesterday attacking early.
These stages in the Alps were a sharp contrast to the racing in the Pyrenees which was very safe and conservative with no attacks until the last few kilometers of the final climbs as the leaders felt each other out and didn't wish to over extend themselves. Andy Schleck had no problem going with Contador and stuck on his wheel just as Contador did to him on the Tourmalet last year. Evans had some bike trouble and fell off and was once again forced to chase down a minute gap that endured all the way to the top of the Galibier. They came together on the rocking 30 mile descent from the top of the Galibier to the start of the nine mile climb to the finish at L'Alpe d'Huez.
Contador once again attacked and everyone let him go. If he received the same reaction from the legions of fans packed along the climb as he did on the finishing stretch where I was stationed, he would have been assaulted by boos the entire way. The biggest reaction from the thousands in a rock concert atmosphere watching the Big Screen was a loud cheer when he was caught by two chasers a mile-and-a-half from the finish. This was the first crowd I was a part of that cheered Voeckler, though he fell off the pace on the climb to the Galibier and fell off even further on L'Alpe d'Huez. He was lucky to only lose three minutes. It could have been ten or more and might have fallen behind Danielson and out of the Top Ten.
The Garmin boys once again gave the best team effort. Hesjedal for awhile led the chase after Contador on L'Alpe d'Huez. Danielson was in the main group behind and Christian hung with Voeckler, just nipping him at the line. But the French could go crazy when Voeckler's young teammate, Pierre Rolland, was allowed to race on his own and overcome the 33 second deficit he had for the best young rider category. Not only did he take over the White Jersey but he won the stage, a rare unknown to join the pantheon of all the greats who have won this stage the 27 times it has been included in The Race since 1952 when Coppi won it. Lance won it twice and Pantani and Hinault and Zootemelk and Sastre and the older Schleck brother. And finally the French have won a stage in this race. Last year was an exceptional year when they won six stages. All six stages winners were invited to a visit with President Sarkozy. This year he has invited all 45 French riders who rode in The Race.
Later, George
Saturday, July 23, 2011
Friday, July 22, 2011
Day Twenty-One Le Tour
Friends: The first ever summit finish on the Galibier, one of the highest and most spectacular passes in the Alps, was easily the glamour stage of this yearś Tour attracting tens of thousands of racing fans from all over. I saw my first contingents of American tour groups and for the first time ever at The Tour someone walking around with an Israeli flag draped over his shoulders. There were Poles and Czechs and South Africans and loads of Spaniards.
This year is the hundredth anniversary of the Galibierś first appearance in The Tour, also the year that the Alps were first included after successfully passing over the Pyrenees the year before for the first time.
The camper vans were parked for miles leading up to the Galibier as I biked to within five miles of its summit last night camping just beyond a road block at the Col du Lauret where the road turns up to the Galibier. It was lucky I pushed on so far into the evening as the next day no bicyclists were allowed beyond that point. I was the only bicyclist aside from those in the peloton to bike the Galibier on race day. It seemed quite strange when I set out at eight a.m. that there wasnt a steady flow of cyclists as there would be the next day going up L'Alpe d'Huez, just people on foot. I figured everyone was just getting a late start since it was quite cold and they didn't want to be up at the summit longer than necessary.
With the road blocked to motorized traffic the night before I simply pitched my tent on a narrow strip of grass right along the road rather than pushing up over a steep embankment. I was sharply awoken at one a.m. when the stream of Tour trucks arrived from the stage finish that day in Italy with all the buildings they erect and the barriers and broadcast equipment. There are quite a few eighteen-wheelers as well as buses for the crew who would work through the night. If their roar and bright headlights weren't enough to awaken me, a couple of clowns found it necessary to blast their horns at me.
It was back to sleep until five when the sky began to lighten and then some more snoozing until six when the first of the hikers began trudging past my tent, the French in joyous conversation. I could nap some more between groups until 7:30 and then began bundling up in the sub forty degree temperatures. The wind was blowing more cold air from the north so I only shed two of my four layers on the steep hard climb to the summit past the people in campers parked along the road all bundled up trying to get some warmth from the sun out of the wind. There was also a trickle of hikers taking a short cut up a trail.
The race village was still be assembling a kilometer below the summit in patches of snow from two days before. If I wanted a photo of the huge monument to Henri Desgrange I couldn't have gotten it as it was surrounded by trucks. I ducked into the lone souvenir shop to see if they might have a television for watching the race as there wasn't room for the giant screen usually erected at the stage finish on top of an eighteen-wheeler. The only television was in a tent.
It was too cold to linger up there for seven or eight hours, so I descended back to the main highway where there were mobs of people and many frustrated bicyclists being turned away by a row of gendarmes. I could see the giant screen as I made my descent already broadcasting a pre-start show. I wandered around among the throngs all in Lycra and on high-end bikes scouting out the best place to sit and watch The Race on the giant screen out of the wind and with some sun to keep warm. I settled on a spot along the road beside a car with guys wearing white and red wigs. I could lean my bike up against the hood of the car and sit on its cross tube if I wished or on the ground in front of it if the mobs didn't block my view.
There were thousands of us at this intersection and quite a few gendarmes trying to keep order. A Tour truck arrived with extra barriers to hold back the mobs. When people with Tour credentials around their necks gathered in front of the barriers at the turn the racers would take up to the Galibier there were howls of protests from those of us behind the barriers. The officers got them to crouch down not to obstruct our view.
The race action was the usual break up the road until Andy Schleck chased after it when it was half way up the second of the three big climbs in the stage, the Col de Izoard, one of the legendary Tour climbs that isn't all that often included in The Race as it is in a corner of the county near Italy. But it is a favorite of cyclists, so much so that there is a bike lane on it and also a plaque honoring Coppi and Bobet.
A grey-bearded guy with a Luxembourg cycling jersey who was standing on a barrier up above the crowd tried to get an Andy Schleck cheer going, but no one responded. He tried several times as Schleck closed down the two minute gap between him and two chasers who were another two minutes behind the leaders up the road, but no one responded. Even when Schleck caught the chasers, which included a teammate, and closed in on the leaders, still no one was responding, not even to this brilliant strategy, even if they weren't Schleck fans.
Part of the brilliance of the strategy is it allowed Schleck to descend the Izoard with the comfort of a teammate leading him and not dozens of other cyclists to contend with as he has a slight fear of descending. He lost a minute two days before on the category two descent in the rain to Briancon. Last year he had his team director call his mother in the middle of a stage assuring her he wasn't going to take any risks on the descent after he dropped his chain.
When Schleck caught the leader up the road he was nearly four minutes up on the peloton. It was left to second placed Evans to lead the charge after him, as no one else would assist, much to the displeasure of Evans. There weren't enough Australians in the crowd to boo when Evans chastised those with him for not helping. But he showed his strength by closing the gap on Schleck, which had grown to four minutes, down to just two minutes and fifteen seconds.
The biggest reaction from the crowd came when Contador fell off the pace. There were cheers whenever it showed him falling further and further behind. His fellow Spaniard Sanchez was having a bad day as well, his hopes for a podium position fading fast.
But for us Garmin fans there was plenty to be happy about with its three climbers, Christian, Hesjedal and Danielson hanging tough. They finished in the top twelve extending their lead in the team category, with Danielson still ninth overall, moving to within a minute and a half of Sanchez and extending his lead on the man in tenth to over two minutes.
Today will be the final brutal stage, climbing the Galibier from the opposite side, a much tougher climb than from the side they climbed it yesterday. It will be thirty miles downhill to the climb to L'Alpe d'Huez where I'm presently sitting in an internet cafe overlooking the ski village's outdoor swimming pool, right next door to an outdoor ice skating rink that is more popular than the pool. It is sunny but cold.
It was another fabulous climb of L'Alpe d'Huez this morning, the fifth time I’ve done it, with hundreds of others. There was no worry of it being closed down like the Galibier, as there is a huge ski village up here unlike the Galibier which is just a narrow pass with no room to accommodate the thousands of cyclists and their bicycles. It is noon. Today's short 70-mile stage doesn't start until 2:35.
I will sign off now and hopefully get my usual spot under an overhang looking at the Giant Screen just two hundred meters from the stage finish. Then it will be an easy ride to Grenoble tonight where I will camp alongside tomorrow's time trial stage. Now the question is if Andy Schleck and Evans expended too much energy yesterday, opening the way for brother Frank Schleck. Voeckler was totally devastated at the race end. Its doubtful he will retain the yellow jersey today, but his valiant effort to keep it by fifteen seconds yesterday over Andy was the big story in France, with his photo on the cover of L'Equipe and all the newspapers, not Andy for his bold attack.
Later, George
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
Day Nineteen Le Tour
Friends: All the Norwegians at The Tour, seemingly more than any other nationality other than the French and the Belgians based upon the flags along the route, are continuing to inspire their countrymen to herculean efforts. The top three finishers yesterday at Gap, well ahead of everyone else, were all of Norwegian heritage, Hushovd winning his second stage of The Tour followed by Edvald Boasson Hagen, who earlier won a stage, and Ryder Hesjedal, a Canadian with Norwegian roots. They didn't wilt in the atrocious conditions, a hard cold rain that left snow on the surrounding peaks. Not only was it a great day for Norway, but anther great day for Garmin, winning their fourth stage of The Tour, tying them with HTC-High Road and having Hesjedal as a lone breakaway brandishing the Garmin jersey.
Whenever I watch a stage in a bar with Dave the Australian, Hushovd wins the stage after chasing down the breakaway. This time he just sat on the wheel of Boasson Hagen as he chased after Hesjedal, as he wouldn't dream of chasing down his teammate, leaving him with the freshest of legs for the final sprint.
While I exalted at this great display of power by the Garmin team, Dave the Aussie and his fellow Aussie Rowan, who had joined him two days ago, were nearly out of their seats as well when their man Cadel was able to hang with Contador when he finally unleashed an attack that everyone has been waiting for since The Tour started on the category two climb near the stage finish. Sanchez was the only other rider to stick with him as they left the Schlecks and Voeckler behind. The twenty seconds they gained moved Evans up to second and was another indicator that his legs are as good as any one's in the peloton. Its into the Alps now for three of the last five stages. Its is turning into a sensational race. The suspense thickens. Any of half a dozen riders could win this thing.
We were a merry band of four leaving Gap three hours before the peloton was due to arrive, preferring to seek out a bar down the road to watch the proceedings rather than lingering at the Big Screen with the weather so abominable. It had actually cleared momentarily when Dave and Rowan and I first connected at the Big Screen and then David the German joined us. We all had been drenched by the ride into Gap.
Rowan had just trained over from Germany to follow the last week of The Tour. He had ridden it in its entirety in 2009, the year with the Ventoux finish, but was riding far enough ahead of the peloton that he and I never connected nor did Skippy spot him either. He's been working in the solar industry in Germany the past two years and was the one who inspired Dave to ride The Tour. He's a strong one too, racing full-fledged Ironman competitions. His next is in Wales next month, the first one ever to be held there. He met Dave at the Tour of Timor, a ultra-endurance mountain bike race, shortly after he had ridden The Tour and was all revved up from the experience.
He and Dave are very knowledgeable bike racing fans. We had a grand time analyzing the final hour of racing. One of the biggest surprises was seeing Cavendish finish just after the leaders, meaning that he is truly serious about winning the green jersey. There was no need for him to push himself over that category two climb, but he did it. He came in on his own without the support of any teammates with his arms resting on his handlebars looking totally spent. It is such efforts that make bike racing so appealing. There have been quite a few to be inspired by this year. Voeckler epitomizes giving one's all. Cadel too never gives up and Hushovd has shown great hunger to excel.
We were all ramped up to get back on our bikes and ride. We lost David in less than a mile when he needed to tend to his kitten. I hung with the Aussie speedsters for an hour until they decided they might want to make an attempt on going into Italy for the next day's stage finish, while I was content to just make it to the feed zone in Briançon before heading over to the Galibier. I had a harder time keeping up with them on the descents than on the climbs, as I have so much more drag from my front panniers. Aerodynamics has more bearing than than weight.
Shortly after I let them speed on ahead more storm clouds appeared from over a mountain ridge with thunder and wind. I didn't care to set up my tent soaking wet from more rain, so when I shortly came upon a cozy pine forest I made that my campgrounds for the night, just 25 miles from Briançon. It was a relief to be sheltered from the wind. About an hour later David showed up, spotting my tent through the trees.
He set out a little earlier than I in the morning so he could enjoy a coffee break, but we linked up and then a while later we were joined by Dave. He elected not to push on to Italy, though Rowan with fresh legs was attempting it. So now David, Dave and I will catch the feed zone action in three hours, watch the rest of the mountainous stage in a bar and then head over to the Galibier for tomorrow's summit finish. Hopefully today's sun will melt the fresh snow on its slopes.
Later, George
Whenever I watch a stage in a bar with Dave the Australian, Hushovd wins the stage after chasing down the breakaway. This time he just sat on the wheel of Boasson Hagen as he chased after Hesjedal, as he wouldn't dream of chasing down his teammate, leaving him with the freshest of legs for the final sprint.
While I exalted at this great display of power by the Garmin team, Dave the Aussie and his fellow Aussie Rowan, who had joined him two days ago, were nearly out of their seats as well when their man Cadel was able to hang with Contador when he finally unleashed an attack that everyone has been waiting for since The Tour started on the category two climb near the stage finish. Sanchez was the only other rider to stick with him as they left the Schlecks and Voeckler behind. The twenty seconds they gained moved Evans up to second and was another indicator that his legs are as good as any one's in the peloton. Its into the Alps now for three of the last five stages. Its is turning into a sensational race. The suspense thickens. Any of half a dozen riders could win this thing.
We were a merry band of four leaving Gap three hours before the peloton was due to arrive, preferring to seek out a bar down the road to watch the proceedings rather than lingering at the Big Screen with the weather so abominable. It had actually cleared momentarily when Dave and Rowan and I first connected at the Big Screen and then David the German joined us. We all had been drenched by the ride into Gap.
Rowan had just trained over from Germany to follow the last week of The Tour. He had ridden it in its entirety in 2009, the year with the Ventoux finish, but was riding far enough ahead of the peloton that he and I never connected nor did Skippy spot him either. He's been working in the solar industry in Germany the past two years and was the one who inspired Dave to ride The Tour. He's a strong one too, racing full-fledged Ironman competitions. His next is in Wales next month, the first one ever to be held there. He met Dave at the Tour of Timor, a ultra-endurance mountain bike race, shortly after he had ridden The Tour and was all revved up from the experience.
He and Dave are very knowledgeable bike racing fans. We had a grand time analyzing the final hour of racing. One of the biggest surprises was seeing Cavendish finish just after the leaders, meaning that he is truly serious about winning the green jersey. There was no need for him to push himself over that category two climb, but he did it. He came in on his own without the support of any teammates with his arms resting on his handlebars looking totally spent. It is such efforts that make bike racing so appealing. There have been quite a few to be inspired by this year. Voeckler epitomizes giving one's all. Cadel too never gives up and Hushovd has shown great hunger to excel.
We were all ramped up to get back on our bikes and ride. We lost David in less than a mile when he needed to tend to his kitten. I hung with the Aussie speedsters for an hour until they decided they might want to make an attempt on going into Italy for the next day's stage finish, while I was content to just make it to the feed zone in Briançon before heading over to the Galibier. I had a harder time keeping up with them on the descents than on the climbs, as I have so much more drag from my front panniers. Aerodynamics has more bearing than than weight.
Shortly after I let them speed on ahead more storm clouds appeared from over a mountain ridge with thunder and wind. I didn't care to set up my tent soaking wet from more rain, so when I shortly came upon a cozy pine forest I made that my campgrounds for the night, just 25 miles from Briançon. It was a relief to be sheltered from the wind. About an hour later David showed up, spotting my tent through the trees.
He set out a little earlier than I in the morning so he could enjoy a coffee break, but we linked up and then a while later we were joined by Dave. He elected not to push on to Italy, though Rowan with fresh legs was attempting it. So now David, Dave and I will catch the feed zone action in three hours, watch the rest of the mountainous stage in a bar and then head over to the Galibier for tomorrow's summit finish. Hopefully today's sun will melt the fresh snow on its slopes.
Later, George
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
Day Eighteen Le Tour
Friends: While the peloton enjoyed its second and final rest day of its three week race around France, I had a stress-free day of riding my bike, unconcerned about being ordered off my bike as the peloton closed in on me or having to push hard to get to the Big Screen or of having to find a bar with a TV if I didn't have the Big Screen to watch.
Nor did I have to try to find a cyber cafe having filed a report the previous day. I could simply ride at whatever pace I desired, having no pressure of pushing as far down the road as I could as I'd gotten further along the day before than I anticipated. I could just joyously ride my bike, luxuriating in the pre-Alp scenery, letting the miles take care of themselves.
The day before I had ridden one hundred miles without even trying, arriving at the Big Screen in Montpellier before noon and deciding to continue on rather than linger to watch The Race since it was a flat stage that would most likely end in a sprint. I only needed to see the last half hour. A bar would do. Cavendish won for the fourth time. There is just one more flat stage, the final one in Paris, for him to win, giving him five victories, the same as last year and what he has been averaging the previous three years. He is living up to his potential of the greatest sprinter of all time. He will most likely break Merckx's career record of 34 Tour stage wins.
Even though yesterday's ride was a gradual climb towards the Alps past Mont Ventoux, the miles came so easily I had another one hundred mile day, leaving me just twelve miles from the stage finish in Gap. I have had more one hundred mile days this year than in any year's past thanks to the moderate temperatures and generally friendly winds and hard-riding companions.
I've ridden all or part of thirteen of the sixteen stages so far and will ride some of the final five, though the last one into Paris will be several days beyond the peloton after a three hundred mile transfer from the time trial in Grenoble. Two of the three stages I missed were stages five and six in the far north that I rode in June as I scouted The Route. Its been an excellent year.
It was well that I made it so far last night as soon after I began riding this morning it began to rain, cold and hard, the worst rain of The Tour. I was forced to put on my sweater and vest and booties. Just before the rain started Skippy drove by and reported that David the German was thirty kilometers behind me and that he had also seen Dave the Australian for the first time the evening before. If the rain doesn't let up, which it doesn't look like it will, we won't want to linger long by the Big Screen, our meeting point. The best thing is to keep moving and start on tomorrow's stage.
I had a Skippy encounter the day before as well at the tourist office in St. Paul Trois Chateaux, the Ville Départ for today's stage. He was just getting ready to preview the start of the stage as was I. But first we went across the street to join a mob of fans in front of the hotel where the Radio Shack team was staying. There was no hiding their presence what with the huge team bus and even larger team truck parked out in front along with the three team cars, all emblazoned with the bright red team logo. Just as we arrived a couple of team officials began tossing red t-shirts with the team's four leaders (Horner, Leipheimer, Kloden and Brajkovic) on the front and Allez Radio Shack on the back. Leipheimer is the only one still in The Race, and he just barely, having suffered several crashes. He had been a podium possibility, but is now over twenty minutes behind and won't even finish in the Top Ten.
The team is truly cursed this year. They greatly miss Lance. He no doubt is regretting he isn't in this year's Race with Contador and the Schlecks not on top form. That Voeckler can keep up with them is akin to Sastre winning The Race three years ago, part of what inspired Lance to come out of retirement. He told John Wilcockson of "VeloNews" that if Sastre could win The Race and Christian could finish fourth, he was fully confident he could have won it that year. But that was the year that Contador was kept out of The Race despite winning it the year before. He had switched teams to Astana and Astana was banned from The Race for a year because of Vinokourov's doping.
Skippy managed to grab a t-shirt and had me put it on for a photo in front of the team truck and crowd. He will be posting it at http://tourdafrance.blogspot.com
Skippy and I rode together for half an hour and then he doubled back to get his car. He needed some muffler work. He was going to drive it to the foot of Mont Ventoux, leave it with a mechanic and ride up the Giant of Provence.
It was a nice sunny day. The route was already lined with Tour followers in their campers sitting in lawn chairs enjoying the sun, many of them telling me I was the first. As on just about every stage there was a banner remembering Laurent Fignon, two-time Tour winner in the early '80s who succumbed to cancer earlier this year. He more than anyone would be thrilled by Voeckler in yellow vying for the overall win. He had been an outspoken critic of the French riders lack of success for the past two-and-a-half decades, accusing them of merely being content with stage victories.
He would be congratulating Voeckler for his aggressiveness, but also asking, why didn't you do this before. Voeckler acknowledges that his legs are stronger than in the past, but also that even these legs wouldn't have been strong enough to keep up with Lance and Basso in 2004 when he held the yellow jersey for ten days. Lance has tweeted that he greatly respects Voeckler's tenacity and thinks he can hang on to win The Tour. Back in 2004 in dangled at the back of the lead pack trying to keep up. This year he's at the front in the thick of the action on the climbs.
Even his team director says his performance has left him speechless. Not only how well he is doing, but several of his teammates as well, who have managed to assist him when the climbing gets steep. It will be a great story if he can pull this off, especially since his team didn't official qualify for The Tour, but was an extra selection.
It is a team with a new sponsor, Europcar, that stepped in at the last moment last year to rescue the Bouygues Telecom team that lost its sponsor and looked like it would be disbanded. It took a great effort from the team director Jean-Rene Bernaudeau to save the team. It is a French team based in the Vendée region where this year's Tour started. All along the first three stages in the Vendée were signs saying "Merci Jean-Rene."
Later, George
Nor did I have to try to find a cyber cafe having filed a report the previous day. I could simply ride at whatever pace I desired, having no pressure of pushing as far down the road as I could as I'd gotten further along the day before than I anticipated. I could just joyously ride my bike, luxuriating in the pre-Alp scenery, letting the miles take care of themselves.
The day before I had ridden one hundred miles without even trying, arriving at the Big Screen in Montpellier before noon and deciding to continue on rather than linger to watch The Race since it was a flat stage that would most likely end in a sprint. I only needed to see the last half hour. A bar would do. Cavendish won for the fourth time. There is just one more flat stage, the final one in Paris, for him to win, giving him five victories, the same as last year and what he has been averaging the previous three years. He is living up to his potential of the greatest sprinter of all time. He will most likely break Merckx's career record of 34 Tour stage wins.
Even though yesterday's ride was a gradual climb towards the Alps past Mont Ventoux, the miles came so easily I had another one hundred mile day, leaving me just twelve miles from the stage finish in Gap. I have had more one hundred mile days this year than in any year's past thanks to the moderate temperatures and generally friendly winds and hard-riding companions.
I've ridden all or part of thirteen of the sixteen stages so far and will ride some of the final five, though the last one into Paris will be several days beyond the peloton after a three hundred mile transfer from the time trial in Grenoble. Two of the three stages I missed were stages five and six in the far north that I rode in June as I scouted The Route. Its been an excellent year.
It was well that I made it so far last night as soon after I began riding this morning it began to rain, cold and hard, the worst rain of The Tour. I was forced to put on my sweater and vest and booties. Just before the rain started Skippy drove by and reported that David the German was thirty kilometers behind me and that he had also seen Dave the Australian for the first time the evening before. If the rain doesn't let up, which it doesn't look like it will, we won't want to linger long by the Big Screen, our meeting point. The best thing is to keep moving and start on tomorrow's stage.
I had a Skippy encounter the day before as well at the tourist office in St. Paul Trois Chateaux, the Ville Départ for today's stage. He was just getting ready to preview the start of the stage as was I. But first we went across the street to join a mob of fans in front of the hotel where the Radio Shack team was staying. There was no hiding their presence what with the huge team bus and even larger team truck parked out in front along with the three team cars, all emblazoned with the bright red team logo. Just as we arrived a couple of team officials began tossing red t-shirts with the team's four leaders (Horner, Leipheimer, Kloden and Brajkovic) on the front and Allez Radio Shack on the back. Leipheimer is the only one still in The Race, and he just barely, having suffered several crashes. He had been a podium possibility, but is now over twenty minutes behind and won't even finish in the Top Ten.
The team is truly cursed this year. They greatly miss Lance. He no doubt is regretting he isn't in this year's Race with Contador and the Schlecks not on top form. That Voeckler can keep up with them is akin to Sastre winning The Race three years ago, part of what inspired Lance to come out of retirement. He told John Wilcockson of "VeloNews" that if Sastre could win The Race and Christian could finish fourth, he was fully confident he could have won it that year. But that was the year that Contador was kept out of The Race despite winning it the year before. He had switched teams to Astana and Astana was banned from The Race for a year because of Vinokourov's doping.
Skippy managed to grab a t-shirt and had me put it on for a photo in front of the team truck and crowd. He will be posting it at http://tourdafrance.blogspot.com
Skippy and I rode together for half an hour and then he doubled back to get his car. He needed some muffler work. He was going to drive it to the foot of Mont Ventoux, leave it with a mechanic and ride up the Giant of Provence.
It was a nice sunny day. The route was already lined with Tour followers in their campers sitting in lawn chairs enjoying the sun, many of them telling me I was the first. As on just about every stage there was a banner remembering Laurent Fignon, two-time Tour winner in the early '80s who succumbed to cancer earlier this year. He more than anyone would be thrilled by Voeckler in yellow vying for the overall win. He had been an outspoken critic of the French riders lack of success for the past two-and-a-half decades, accusing them of merely being content with stage victories.
He would be congratulating Voeckler for his aggressiveness, but also asking, why didn't you do this before. Voeckler acknowledges that his legs are stronger than in the past, but also that even these legs wouldn't have been strong enough to keep up with Lance and Basso in 2004 when he held the yellow jersey for ten days. Lance has tweeted that he greatly respects Voeckler's tenacity and thinks he can hang on to win The Tour. Back in 2004 in dangled at the back of the lead pack trying to keep up. This year he's at the front in the thick of the action on the climbs.
Even his team director says his performance has left him speechless. Not only how well he is doing, but several of his teammates as well, who have managed to assist him when the climbing gets steep. It will be a great story if he can pull this off, especially since his team didn't official qualify for The Tour, but was an extra selection.
It is a team with a new sponsor, Europcar, that stepped in at the last moment last year to rescue the Bouygues Telecom team that lost its sponsor and looked like it would be disbanded. It took a great effort from the team director Jean-Rene Bernaudeau to save the team. It is a French team based in the Vendée region where this year's Tour started. All along the first three stages in the Vendée were signs saying "Merci Jean-Rene."
Later, George
Sunday, July 17, 2011
Day Sixteen Le Tour
Friends: Looks like Voeckler is for real. He stuck with the leaders yesterday for the third and final day in the Pyrenees all the way to the finish line. He is now the story of The Tour, not the Schlecks vs Contador nor if Evans can finally win The Tour. And he provided all the drama in yesterday's stage as I watched it in a bar half-way along the next day's stage.
Unlike his ten-days in the yellow jersey seven years ago, this time the jersey has given him the strength to keep up in the mountains. It is a remarkable transformation, almost as amazing a performance as the eight minutes Floyd Landis put on the race leaders several years ago.
Today will be Voeckler's sixth day in yellow. He will surely keep it for the next two transitional stages before three days in the Alps. If he can hang tough there, all he has to do is endure next Saturday's time trial and he will be in yellow on the Champs Elysee one week from today when The Race concludes.
The only one showing any aggression yesterday was Schleck the Younger, with several surges from the bunch of ten contenders as they made the final ten mile climb to Pleateau de Beille. None dropped off nor could he sustain his charge. Unlike the previous mountain top finish two days before there was no finishing salvo from Schleck the Elder, as Andy seemed to be setting up for his brother Frank. It seemed everyone in the bunch had the same tired legs. Voeckler almost looked the strongest, easily responding to each surge.
Less than half-way up the climb the Garmin riders Christian and Danielson could no longer keep up. Christian rode at the front for a couple of kilometers early in the climb with Danielson on his wheel. When Basso forced the pace Christian immediately dropped off and Danielson not long afterwards. Danielson finished 13th and lost just a little more than a minute to Voeckler. He presently stands 9th overall 5:46 back. Christian is 29th overall, twenty-one minutes back.
It was easy to spot the Garmin riders as they were wearing yellow numbers on their jerseys for being the leading team thanks to Hushovd's heroic effort the day before chasing down two guys five minutes up the road to take the stage victory, the third for the Garmin team, tying them with HTC-High Road's three Cavendish sprint wins. Evidently seven days in yellow wasn't enough glory for Hushovd. He could have easily been content to take it easy for the rest of The Tour, but he showed the drive and determination of the World Champion that he is and put in a gallant effort.
I was watching Hushovd's charge in a bar in a town off The Tour route as I closed in on Limoux, today's Ville Départ, when in walked Dave the ultra-endurance Aussie mountain-biker, last seen over a week ago at the Stage Four finish in Mur de Bretagne. He was still going gangbusters, having already ridden 110 miles that day trying to get to Carcassone, 50 miles away by eight that evening for a hotel he had booked two months before and couldn't change. He made the same mistake David the German made last year, booking hotels ahead of time, not realizing it is much preferable to camp. It wasn't the first time a hotel greatly comprised his freedom and flexibility.
He couldn't blame a hotel though for not connecting with Vincent and I in Le Mans. He arrived in time but struggled to find our meeting point at The Stage start. He missed us by fifteen minutes. He could have easily chased us down, but he was so spent, he just collapsed. Plus he took advantage of a Decathlon sporting goods store near The Stage start to buy a sleeping pad and a rain coat. He arrived in Chateauroux, where the Le Mans stage finished, an hour after we did and rather than going to the Big Screen where we were, went and had a meal.
He was still charged with delight at being at The Tour and had had more good fortune than bad. He'd blown out a rear tire the evening of July 13th and miraculously found a bike shop open the next day on The Race route on Bastille Day to replace it, otherwise he would have had no hope of making his Carcasonne hotel.
He had yet to nab a course marker, unlike Vincent, David and I. When Vincent acquired his and was trying to figure out the best way to carry it, it struck him that he might be able to fit in in his spokes. It is just a little too large for that, but with some improvising it might work. That would be a brilliant way to display it, upstaging all the campers following The Tour with their course markers in their windows.
Figuring out how to fashion it to fit in a bicycle wheel will be a project for Vincent when he returns home. Last year it was figuring out how to make a light, practical kickstand. He came up with the ingenious idea of just wedging a metal rod about 18 inches long in the slot behind the bottom bracket whenever he wished to prop up his bike rather than to lay its on its side as he had to do when we camped the previous two years.
One night when the wind was whipping up I asked Vincent if he was sure it would hold. "She'll be all right," he replied. Young Dave laughed and said,"That's a typical Aussie. That means I don't really care or I haven't thought much about it." Vincent didn't dispute him. I was sorry to have had only two days with these two Aussies and their repartee.
As a chef, Vincent also was good at making food discoveries in the supermarket. Our last night together he experimented with cold water in a pack of mashed potato mix. It worked. That will make for good, light-weight emergency rations.
Nestles in the caravan was tossing out small tubes of chocolate powder good for a 200 milliliter class of milk. We'd both been buying one liter containers of chocolate milk as our energy drink. The Nestles powder made for a much tastier drink and also a cheaper one, converting us to its product. The caravan was also tossing out small tubes of a juice mix. They were so small they often went unnoticed, a rare item we could scavenge when biking the race course after the caravan had passed.
Monday is the second and final rest day before the final six stages. I'll be finishing off the 75 mile transfer between Montpellier, today's stage finish, and St. Paul Trois Chateux, Tuesday's stage start and beginning on the stage to Gap where I hope to meet up with David and his kitten and Dave the Aussie Tuesday. Then it will be on to the Galibier and L'Alpe d'Huez for some more high dramatics..
Later, George
Unlike his ten-days in the yellow jersey seven years ago, this time the jersey has given him the strength to keep up in the mountains. It is a remarkable transformation, almost as amazing a performance as the eight minutes Floyd Landis put on the race leaders several years ago.
Today will be Voeckler's sixth day in yellow. He will surely keep it for the next two transitional stages before three days in the Alps. If he can hang tough there, all he has to do is endure next Saturday's time trial and he will be in yellow on the Champs Elysee one week from today when The Race concludes.
The only one showing any aggression yesterday was Schleck the Younger, with several surges from the bunch of ten contenders as they made the final ten mile climb to Pleateau de Beille. None dropped off nor could he sustain his charge. Unlike the previous mountain top finish two days before there was no finishing salvo from Schleck the Elder, as Andy seemed to be setting up for his brother Frank. It seemed everyone in the bunch had the same tired legs. Voeckler almost looked the strongest, easily responding to each surge.
Less than half-way up the climb the Garmin riders Christian and Danielson could no longer keep up. Christian rode at the front for a couple of kilometers early in the climb with Danielson on his wheel. When Basso forced the pace Christian immediately dropped off and Danielson not long afterwards. Danielson finished 13th and lost just a little more than a minute to Voeckler. He presently stands 9th overall 5:46 back. Christian is 29th overall, twenty-one minutes back.
It was easy to spot the Garmin riders as they were wearing yellow numbers on their jerseys for being the leading team thanks to Hushovd's heroic effort the day before chasing down two guys five minutes up the road to take the stage victory, the third for the Garmin team, tying them with HTC-High Road's three Cavendish sprint wins. Evidently seven days in yellow wasn't enough glory for Hushovd. He could have easily been content to take it easy for the rest of The Tour, but he showed the drive and determination of the World Champion that he is and put in a gallant effort.
I was watching Hushovd's charge in a bar in a town off The Tour route as I closed in on Limoux, today's Ville Départ, when in walked Dave the ultra-endurance Aussie mountain-biker, last seen over a week ago at the Stage Four finish in Mur de Bretagne. He was still going gangbusters, having already ridden 110 miles that day trying to get to Carcassone, 50 miles away by eight that evening for a hotel he had booked two months before and couldn't change. He made the same mistake David the German made last year, booking hotels ahead of time, not realizing it is much preferable to camp. It wasn't the first time a hotel greatly comprised his freedom and flexibility.
He couldn't blame a hotel though for not connecting with Vincent and I in Le Mans. He arrived in time but struggled to find our meeting point at The Stage start. He missed us by fifteen minutes. He could have easily chased us down, but he was so spent, he just collapsed. Plus he took advantage of a Decathlon sporting goods store near The Stage start to buy a sleeping pad and a rain coat. He arrived in Chateauroux, where the Le Mans stage finished, an hour after we did and rather than going to the Big Screen where we were, went and had a meal.
He was still charged with delight at being at The Tour and had had more good fortune than bad. He'd blown out a rear tire the evening of July 13th and miraculously found a bike shop open the next day on The Race route on Bastille Day to replace it, otherwise he would have had no hope of making his Carcasonne hotel.
He had yet to nab a course marker, unlike Vincent, David and I. When Vincent acquired his and was trying to figure out the best way to carry it, it struck him that he might be able to fit in in his spokes. It is just a little too large for that, but with some improvising it might work. That would be a brilliant way to display it, upstaging all the campers following The Tour with their course markers in their windows.
Figuring out how to fashion it to fit in a bicycle wheel will be a project for Vincent when he returns home. Last year it was figuring out how to make a light, practical kickstand. He came up with the ingenious idea of just wedging a metal rod about 18 inches long in the slot behind the bottom bracket whenever he wished to prop up his bike rather than to lay its on its side as he had to do when we camped the previous two years.
One night when the wind was whipping up I asked Vincent if he was sure it would hold. "She'll be all right," he replied. Young Dave laughed and said,"That's a typical Aussie. That means I don't really care or I haven't thought much about it." Vincent didn't dispute him. I was sorry to have had only two days with these two Aussies and their repartee.
As a chef, Vincent also was good at making food discoveries in the supermarket. Our last night together he experimented with cold water in a pack of mashed potato mix. It worked. That will make for good, light-weight emergency rations.
Nestles in the caravan was tossing out small tubes of chocolate powder good for a 200 milliliter class of milk. We'd both been buying one liter containers of chocolate milk as our energy drink. The Nestles powder made for a much tastier drink and also a cheaper one, converting us to its product. The caravan was also tossing out small tubes of a juice mix. They were so small they often went unnoticed, a rare item we could scavenge when biking the race course after the caravan had passed.
Monday is the second and final rest day before the final six stages. I'll be finishing off the 75 mile transfer between Montpellier, today's stage finish, and St. Paul Trois Chateux, Tuesday's stage start and beginning on the stage to Gap where I hope to meet up with David and his kitten and Dave the Aussie Tuesday. Then it will be on to the Galibier and L'Alpe d'Huez for some more high dramatics..
Later, George
Friday, July 15, 2011
Day Fourteen Le Tour
Friends: The French did not get a Bastille Day winner but almost as good they kept the yellow jersey and also gained the white jersey for the best young rider on the spellbinding twelfth stage, the peloton's first foray into the mountains.
Voeckler had vowed to defend his yellow jersey, though no one expected him to keep it with two beyond category climbs and one category one as he isn't much of a climber. When he was still among the leaders when they passed under the ten kilometers to go arch on the final climb he actually gave a smile in contrast to his usual look of torture when he is giving an all out effort on one of his breakaways. Though he faltered in the final three kilometers he limited his losses to less than a minute and retained the jersey by nearly two minutes. It was a heroic effort that will go into Tour lore. He may be able to keep the jersey on today's stage with only one significant climb if he didn't totally deplete himself. He could barely stand when he dismounted from his bike.
He was the story of the day. When he took the yellow jersey three stages ago the headline on "L'Equipe" was "Voeckler Our Hero." Today's front page was "Voeckler the Lion," with a full page photo of him rather than a photo of the stage winner Samuel Sanchez or of Frank Schleck riding away from the pack of leaders with three kilometers to go or of Contador falling off and finishing eighth just seven seconds ahead of Voeckler. Ordinarily he would finish eight minutes or more ahead of Voeckler.
The French were also thrilled with 25 year old Arnold Jeannesson finishing twelfth and taking the white jersey for the best young rider. Maybe at last they have someone who can contend for the overall, something they have not won since Hinault in 1985. On the rest day "L'Equipe" had a two page spread addressing the issue of why the French can't contend for their national race.
This first mountain stage gave answers to several questions. Contador may not be bluffing when he says his legs are fatigued from the 200 kilometers of climbing in May's very strenuous Tour of Italy that he won. Italians Basso and Cunego passed on their national tour to save them legs for The Tour de France and both finished ahead of Contador yesterday, something they have rarely accomplished. Another question answered was that Frank may be the strongest of the two Schlecks, as he was the one to escape from the leaders on his third attempt gaining another 20 seconds on his younger brother. Evans was the one to finally lead the chase after him, showing he does have the legs to keep up in the high mountains this year. He's a superior time trialist than the Schlecks, so if he can remain within a couple minutes of them until the second to last day time trial, the title may be his after two second place finishes.
And the question of who is the strongest of the three Garmin climbers was also answered. It is Danielson, who hung with the best until the end and moved up to ninth overall. Christian began faltering half way up the Tourmalet, the second of the day's three big climbs. The motorcyclist cameraman hanging behind the lead group pounced on Christian, which immediately invigorated him to spurt back to the group, but then later he fell off, while the camera lingered on him longer than he probably would have liked. He finished ten minutes down and fell to 34th. Ryder Hesjedal, who finished 7th last year and was the surprise of The Tour as Christian had been two years earlier when he finished fourth, only lost four minutes, but he is 38th overall. They will be relegated to domestique duties for Danielson. If he can hang on, he will be the fourth different Garmin rider in four years to finish in the top ten, perhaps something no team has ever accomplished.
Garmin continues to make its mark on The Tour and gain attention. One of the several gendarmes on motorcycles leading the peloton casually commented "Garmin" as he passed me as I stood along the road. Both the Garmin team cars just behind the peloton tooted at me as they passed and director Jonathon Vaughters gave me another wave.
I was stationed two miles before the feed zone half-way through the stage. I had been ordered off the course by a gendarme on a motorcycle fifteen minutes before the caravan was due to pass. I could have walked on to the feed zone, but I knew it was through a decent-sized city and there were mobs of people ahead. I didn't care to contend with that mayhem, so contented myself to have a quiet stretch of road to myself. The only drawback was there was a canal just behind me, so I could possibly lose items tossed from the caravan if they were thrown too hard. As it was I only lost a bottle of Vittel water, though I saw quite a few Credit Lyonnaise yellow hats go streaming by. At my spot I was able to nab almost one of everything--hats, key chains, refrigerator magnets, various snacks and a newspaper. "L'Equipe" is once again one of the 34 sponsors in the caravan, but they aren't giving away papers this year.
There are no real prize items this year, so just about everything I receive I redistribute on the next stage. For me that will be Sunday. I'm skipping today's stage altogether and most of tomorrow's. I rode a short stretch of it last night from its starting point in Saint Gaudens, a frequent enough Ville Départ that the street where it starts from is named Rue des Campagnons du Tour de France, as I head to Sunday's stage departing from Limoux. I ought to arrive there tomorrow afternoon and easily make it to Montpellier for its finish Sunday. Then its a 75 mile transfer on the peloton's rest day to Saint Pauo Trois Chateaux where I have the possibility of meeting up with Yvon, my French friend I manage to connect with most years. It won't be easy, but we'll try.
I sought a bar as soon as the peloton passed, watching the final three hours of the stage sitting in a comfortable wicker chair with a crowd of French. The sprinters Cavendish, Greipel and Farrar, who had finished one-two-three the day before, all got a little air time as they plodded along at the back of the pack before the action at the front heated up and there was no time for the stragglers.
As soon as the stage was completed it was back on the bike for four hours of glorious evening cycling along the fringe of the Pyrenees. There was hardly any traffic until half an hour before dark when people hopped in their cars to head to the nearest town's fireworks. I left the rain fly off my tent to watch them as I ate dinner, but none were in sight though I could hear the blasts.
Later, George
Voeckler had vowed to defend his yellow jersey, though no one expected him to keep it with two beyond category climbs and one category one as he isn't much of a climber. When he was still among the leaders when they passed under the ten kilometers to go arch on the final climb he actually gave a smile in contrast to his usual look of torture when he is giving an all out effort on one of his breakaways. Though he faltered in the final three kilometers he limited his losses to less than a minute and retained the jersey by nearly two minutes. It was a heroic effort that will go into Tour lore. He may be able to keep the jersey on today's stage with only one significant climb if he didn't totally deplete himself. He could barely stand when he dismounted from his bike.
He was the story of the day. When he took the yellow jersey three stages ago the headline on "L'Equipe" was "Voeckler Our Hero." Today's front page was "Voeckler the Lion," with a full page photo of him rather than a photo of the stage winner Samuel Sanchez or of Frank Schleck riding away from the pack of leaders with three kilometers to go or of Contador falling off and finishing eighth just seven seconds ahead of Voeckler. Ordinarily he would finish eight minutes or more ahead of Voeckler.
The French were also thrilled with 25 year old Arnold Jeannesson finishing twelfth and taking the white jersey for the best young rider. Maybe at last they have someone who can contend for the overall, something they have not won since Hinault in 1985. On the rest day "L'Equipe" had a two page spread addressing the issue of why the French can't contend for their national race.
This first mountain stage gave answers to several questions. Contador may not be bluffing when he says his legs are fatigued from the 200 kilometers of climbing in May's very strenuous Tour of Italy that he won. Italians Basso and Cunego passed on their national tour to save them legs for The Tour de France and both finished ahead of Contador yesterday, something they have rarely accomplished. Another question answered was that Frank may be the strongest of the two Schlecks, as he was the one to escape from the leaders on his third attempt gaining another 20 seconds on his younger brother. Evans was the one to finally lead the chase after him, showing he does have the legs to keep up in the high mountains this year. He's a superior time trialist than the Schlecks, so if he can remain within a couple minutes of them until the second to last day time trial, the title may be his after two second place finishes.
And the question of who is the strongest of the three Garmin climbers was also answered. It is Danielson, who hung with the best until the end and moved up to ninth overall. Christian began faltering half way up the Tourmalet, the second of the day's three big climbs. The motorcyclist cameraman hanging behind the lead group pounced on Christian, which immediately invigorated him to spurt back to the group, but then later he fell off, while the camera lingered on him longer than he probably would have liked. He finished ten minutes down and fell to 34th. Ryder Hesjedal, who finished 7th last year and was the surprise of The Tour as Christian had been two years earlier when he finished fourth, only lost four minutes, but he is 38th overall. They will be relegated to domestique duties for Danielson. If he can hang on, he will be the fourth different Garmin rider in four years to finish in the top ten, perhaps something no team has ever accomplished.
Garmin continues to make its mark on The Tour and gain attention. One of the several gendarmes on motorcycles leading the peloton casually commented "Garmin" as he passed me as I stood along the road. Both the Garmin team cars just behind the peloton tooted at me as they passed and director Jonathon Vaughters gave me another wave.
I was stationed two miles before the feed zone half-way through the stage. I had been ordered off the course by a gendarme on a motorcycle fifteen minutes before the caravan was due to pass. I could have walked on to the feed zone, but I knew it was through a decent-sized city and there were mobs of people ahead. I didn't care to contend with that mayhem, so contented myself to have a quiet stretch of road to myself. The only drawback was there was a canal just behind me, so I could possibly lose items tossed from the caravan if they were thrown too hard. As it was I only lost a bottle of Vittel water, though I saw quite a few Credit Lyonnaise yellow hats go streaming by. At my spot I was able to nab almost one of everything--hats, key chains, refrigerator magnets, various snacks and a newspaper. "L'Equipe" is once again one of the 34 sponsors in the caravan, but they aren't giving away papers this year.
There are no real prize items this year, so just about everything I receive I redistribute on the next stage. For me that will be Sunday. I'm skipping today's stage altogether and most of tomorrow's. I rode a short stretch of it last night from its starting point in Saint Gaudens, a frequent enough Ville Départ that the street where it starts from is named Rue des Campagnons du Tour de France, as I head to Sunday's stage departing from Limoux. I ought to arrive there tomorrow afternoon and easily make it to Montpellier for its finish Sunday. Then its a 75 mile transfer on the peloton's rest day to Saint Pauo Trois Chateaux where I have the possibility of meeting up with Yvon, my French friend I manage to connect with most years. It won't be easy, but we'll try.
I sought a bar as soon as the peloton passed, watching the final three hours of the stage sitting in a comfortable wicker chair with a crowd of French. The sprinters Cavendish, Greipel and Farrar, who had finished one-two-three the day before, all got a little air time as they plodded along at the back of the pack before the action at the front heated up and there was no time for the stragglers.
As soon as the stage was completed it was back on the bike for four hours of glorious evening cycling along the fringe of the Pyrenees. There was hardly any traffic until half an hour before dark when people hopped in their cars to head to the nearest town's fireworks. I left the rain fly off my tent to watch them as I ate dinner, but none were in sight though I could hear the blasts.
Later, George
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
Day Twelve Le Tour
Friends: Just what I didn't need, I thought, a flat tire with night descending and thunder and lightening lacing the ominously blackening sky, though that flat might have been a stroke of good fortune. I had paused in the small village of Vaour 24 miles into the next day's stage to fill my third water bottle at the public toilet before making camp. Someone had scrawled "Eau Non Potable" over the sink. I filled my bottle anyway not sure if I would need it and also knowing that such warnings are not always to be heeded.
I gave my self a quick wash with my level of grime not as thick as the day before as the temperatures had moderated and then hurried back to my bike as nature's pre-Bastille day pyrotechnics in the sky intensified and discovered a front flat. At least I had the shelter of the toilet as a refuge if the rain came pelting down. If it could hold off just 15 minutes I could quickly slip out of this village and find a field to pitch my tent.
After a quick tire change I was on my bike and back on the road when as the drops starting falling. And just at that instant who comes along? Non other than Skippy with his radar trying to track me down knowing I'd be riding until dark on this road. We both ducked into the open toilet facility hoping the storm would be a quick one. Even if it wasn't, if the clouds went with it we'd have a near full moon to help us find a place to camp.
Almost instantly we noticed across the street in the church parking lot a tent erected for some Tour gathering the next day. We put on our rain jackets to scout it out as a potential campsite. It was 15 feet by 15 feet and inside were about twenty benches and one table. The rain had already formed puddles inside it, so we couldn't put our sleeping pads down on the pavement. Putting three benches together for each of us formed a good enough bed frame. I wheeled my bike over and Skippy collected his bedding from his car. It was past ten o'clock. Skippy was tired enough to conk right out. I needed to do some eating. It took me half an hour to finish off my couscous and cassoulet stew and turned in myself. It wasn't a very restful night though with the storm not relenting and a trio of long-haired teen-aged boys out for an evening of mischief taking a peek in at one a.m., quite surprised to see us seeming vagrants, but then noticing my bike with the panniers still attached recognized we were followers of The Tour, then wishing us a "Bon Nuit." I was glad it wasn't Turkey, though I wasn't sure where I was when they startled me awake.
After one boisterous series of thunderclaps before Skippy had gone to sleep he said, "I know who's going to win tomorrow's stage, Thor," referring to Garmin's Hushovd, as Thor is the god of thunder. Its not an impossibility. He's a very capable sprinter and the next stage would most likely end in a sprint. But Cavendish and his ex-teammate Greipel, who aren't the best of friends, would most likely be going at it with an extreme vengeance, as Greipel beat Cavendish for the first time in the Tour that day. In the previous sprint finish at Chateauroux Cavendish just narrowly beat Greipel. Greipel had been left off The Tour team when he and Cavendish were teammates, so this is the first year they've been able to test each other and not defer to one another. Today's sprint could be epic. It will be the last one for three stages while the peloton spends three days in the Pyrenees.
I won't be watching it on the big screen in Lavaur at the finish as I pushed on to Toulouse, 22 miles away after arriving in Lavaur at noon. I didn't care to linger for five hours in drizzly weather, especially since there was no Internet to be found in Lavaur with its library closed on Tour day. And there will be no Internet tomorrow with it being Bastille Day. I didn't object at all to getting a head start on tomorrow's sage. It is another ten miles to the start. This will allow me to get 30 miles down the stage tonight and then at least to the feed zone tomorrow morning before I'm pulled from the route. The road will be mobbed with spectators if the weather clears since everyone will be on holiday. I'll have to watch the Tourmalet climb and the finishing climb on television. That's okay as three years ago I was on the Tourmalet on Bastille Day. I remember it well as Cavendish brought up the rear, about twenty minutes behind the leader, following the wheel of a teammate. He's gotten stronger in the mountains, but he still won't be pushing it.
I was hoping to see David and his kitten at the end of yesterday's stage as he could now be happy that a German, Greipel, had won a stage. I encountered him near the big screen a couple hours before the peloton was due. He was on his hands and knees peering under a car trying to coax his kitten out. The day before had been an especially trying day with the kitten in the heat. He's about to head back to Germany at any minute, but wanted to get a little more cycling in together.
He prefers to watch The Race in a bar sipping coffee rather than at the big screen amongst all the fans, so we arranged to meet at the public toilet that I had already visited in the town's main square half an hour after the stage finished. He didn't make it so perhaps decided to turn back. If he were on the course he would have caught up to me unless he lost his way, a possibility, as for the first time someone had pilfered a series of key course markers that made following the route guesswork unless one had the route details. I was in a stream of camper vans and just followed them.
Skippy was livid about the stealing of the course markers and promised to send off an email to Tour officials about it. It is an extreme taboo to take down a course marker until after the peloton has passed and remarkably it is largely observed. Earlier in the day Skippy had emailed President Sarkozy about the thugs who force flags on unsuspecting Tour fans and then demand money out of them. Some even include a box of candy with the flag and want ten euros for the combination. There are enough retirees along the route who can be intimidated that it keeps these guys at it.
Later, George
I gave my self a quick wash with my level of grime not as thick as the day before as the temperatures had moderated and then hurried back to my bike as nature's pre-Bastille day pyrotechnics in the sky intensified and discovered a front flat. At least I had the shelter of the toilet as a refuge if the rain came pelting down. If it could hold off just 15 minutes I could quickly slip out of this village and find a field to pitch my tent.
After a quick tire change I was on my bike and back on the road when as the drops starting falling. And just at that instant who comes along? Non other than Skippy with his radar trying to track me down knowing I'd be riding until dark on this road. We both ducked into the open toilet facility hoping the storm would be a quick one. Even if it wasn't, if the clouds went with it we'd have a near full moon to help us find a place to camp.
Almost instantly we noticed across the street in the church parking lot a tent erected for some Tour gathering the next day. We put on our rain jackets to scout it out as a potential campsite. It was 15 feet by 15 feet and inside were about twenty benches and one table. The rain had already formed puddles inside it, so we couldn't put our sleeping pads down on the pavement. Putting three benches together for each of us formed a good enough bed frame. I wheeled my bike over and Skippy collected his bedding from his car. It was past ten o'clock. Skippy was tired enough to conk right out. I needed to do some eating. It took me half an hour to finish off my couscous and cassoulet stew and turned in myself. It wasn't a very restful night though with the storm not relenting and a trio of long-haired teen-aged boys out for an evening of mischief taking a peek in at one a.m., quite surprised to see us seeming vagrants, but then noticing my bike with the panniers still attached recognized we were followers of The Tour, then wishing us a "Bon Nuit." I was glad it wasn't Turkey, though I wasn't sure where I was when they startled me awake.
After one boisterous series of thunderclaps before Skippy had gone to sleep he said, "I know who's going to win tomorrow's stage, Thor," referring to Garmin's Hushovd, as Thor is the god of thunder. Its not an impossibility. He's a very capable sprinter and the next stage would most likely end in a sprint. But Cavendish and his ex-teammate Greipel, who aren't the best of friends, would most likely be going at it with an extreme vengeance, as Greipel beat Cavendish for the first time in the Tour that day. In the previous sprint finish at Chateauroux Cavendish just narrowly beat Greipel. Greipel had been left off The Tour team when he and Cavendish were teammates, so this is the first year they've been able to test each other and not defer to one another. Today's sprint could be epic. It will be the last one for three stages while the peloton spends three days in the Pyrenees.
I won't be watching it on the big screen in Lavaur at the finish as I pushed on to Toulouse, 22 miles away after arriving in Lavaur at noon. I didn't care to linger for five hours in drizzly weather, especially since there was no Internet to be found in Lavaur with its library closed on Tour day. And there will be no Internet tomorrow with it being Bastille Day. I didn't object at all to getting a head start on tomorrow's sage. It is another ten miles to the start. This will allow me to get 30 miles down the stage tonight and then at least to the feed zone tomorrow morning before I'm pulled from the route. The road will be mobbed with spectators if the weather clears since everyone will be on holiday. I'll have to watch the Tourmalet climb and the finishing climb on television. That's okay as three years ago I was on the Tourmalet on Bastille Day. I remember it well as Cavendish brought up the rear, about twenty minutes behind the leader, following the wheel of a teammate. He's gotten stronger in the mountains, but he still won't be pushing it.
I was hoping to see David and his kitten at the end of yesterday's stage as he could now be happy that a German, Greipel, had won a stage. I encountered him near the big screen a couple hours before the peloton was due. He was on his hands and knees peering under a car trying to coax his kitten out. The day before had been an especially trying day with the kitten in the heat. He's about to head back to Germany at any minute, but wanted to get a little more cycling in together.
He prefers to watch The Race in a bar sipping coffee rather than at the big screen amongst all the fans, so we arranged to meet at the public toilet that I had already visited in the town's main square half an hour after the stage finished. He didn't make it so perhaps decided to turn back. If he were on the course he would have caught up to me unless he lost his way, a possibility, as for the first time someone had pilfered a series of key course markers that made following the route guesswork unless one had the route details. I was in a stream of camper vans and just followed them.
Skippy was livid about the stealing of the course markers and promised to send off an email to Tour officials about it. It is an extreme taboo to take down a course marker until after the peloton has passed and remarkably it is largely observed. Earlier in the day Skippy had emailed President Sarkozy about the thugs who force flags on unsuspecting Tour fans and then demand money out of them. Some even include a box of candy with the flag and want ten euros for the combination. There are enough retirees along the route who can be intimidated that it keeps these guys at it.
Later, George
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