In my opinion, the racing actually started today, despite the arguments that it wasn't really a race due to the riders' (or probably more accurately stated Cancellera's) decision to neutralize it at the end. Nonethless, it was mý favorite of all the stages that I watched this year because it was in Belgium and very apropo for what riding/racing in like there - ie, HARD!This was on a Monday, so I had dropped Chuck and Kelly off at the hotel in Liege the night before in order to go back to Köln so that the kids could finish their last 3 days of school. After spending the night at my home, I returned to the hotel in Liege on Monday morning to check-in and pick up Chuck and Kelly to head to the race. I knew it was going to be a good day when I arrived and saw a Team Sky bus in the hotel parking lot. Things got even more interesting when I saw team luggage, bike wheel covers, massage tables, and other team sundries just sitting outside the elevator on my floor. I had struck gold - I was staying on the same floor as the Sky Team...more on that later.
So the plan was to drive somewhere near the Col du Rosier to watch the race during the last big climb before the finish. As I had ridden the Rosier during a facsimile "Liege-Bastogne-Liege" organized ride a couple of months before, I felt confident that I knew the area and would be able to find it rather easily. Well, my confidence level dropped soon after learning that my GPS could not keep up with all of the heavily wooded, hilly, twists and turns in the Ardennes. That, coupled with some key intersections being closed due to being on the actual Tour route, resulted in our getting an unguided and unanticipated "Battle of the Bulge" tour of our own.
Luckily, we serendipitously found the Rosier and eventually found a nice spot about a third of the way up the climb. Although it had stopped raining, it was still cloudy and the roads were still wet. Little did we know what that would mean for our spectating experience. Prior to the Rosier climb, about 75% of the peloton would crash on a descent on these wet, narrow, slick, steep, and pothole-laden dangerous roads (hey, this is Belgium, and this what racing in Belgium is all about). As the race arrived, Chavenel, the eventual winner, looked very strong as he went by (also a scene that would repeat itself a few days later). A couple of strung out chasers followed, and then a few minutes later the peloton arrived - or better said, what was left of the peloton. Cancellera in yellow at the front was talking and being held/pushed up the climb by other riders (not even his own domestiques). This was probably when he was getting buy-in from the other riders to neutralize the finish as protest to the dangerous conditions they had been in. Again, the term peloton here is somewhat of a misnomer. I have never seen a professional race so strung out and battered, bruised, and literally bloodied. The carnage was obvious - an overwhelming majority of the riders had some combination of torn kits, road rash, asphalt covered body parts and faces, and in some instances, some substantial lacerations and bleeding. The smiles from the prior day were long gone and there was barely any idle chatter or talking. However, we did hear a great comment from Cavendish, as he was being pulled up the climb by his teammate. In his very distinct Isle of Man accent, he stated to his mate "Hard day today, huh?".
If you are interested, Chuck took some nice video of the race as it went by us. It gives you a good perspective of how watching a stage in person differs from what you see on TV. Also, if you listen carefully, you can hear the Cavendish quote.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v924B7aoJ4g&feature=related
By the time we arrived back at the hotel in Liege, the Sky Team and many other Tour participants (eg, Eurosport crew, various journalists, etc.) had already arrived. I go to my floor and hear British accents everywhere coming out of the race describing the race. I go back out a little later, and some of team is in the hall describing the stage and all the crashes. As I get on the elevator, Michael Barry steps on too and it's just the two of us. I bite my smalltalk tongue and let him be, as he is deep in a text message and I figure he's had a pretty hard day and could use the downtime. However, one of the Tour cameramen enters the elevator on another floor. Michael evidently knows this guy and they start chatting about the stage and why everyone had crashed on that descent. The speculation was that there was some type of sap on the road that had caused it. I must say, I was very much enjoying being a fly on the wall here.
After the elevator ride, I see most of the team heading to dinner. I go get Chuck and convince him (not too hard I must say) that we need to go to restaurant to get a beer before bed and that the Sky Team just happens to be dining in the restaurant. So we head down and find a small table outdoors smack-dab in the middle of the entire Sky Team entourage. Now the riders themselves, had their own prívate room for dining, but many came out and mingled with the coaches, mechanics, trainers, soigneurs, and various press members who were all around us. Although it had been a tough day at the office for many of these guys, as evidenced by road-rashed arms and elbows, they were remarkably relaxed and jovial.
Look at those clean bikes. Maybe riding in the rain isn't so bad if someone else cleans your bike.
No in-person Virenque or Durand sightings, but I sensed they were near.
The next morning, Chuck and I got up early and rode part of the Stage 2 course, including the Rosier. Here are a couple of pictures. Peacefully quiet and tranquil...quite different from what it had been just 14 hours prior.
Bis später
