Vuelta Segovia - riding and directing
Well I have been meaning to write for a while now about that race I mentioned. It was in Segovia, and each day's stage ended with a 2 km biatch-of-a-climb on cobbles. The last day featured a circuit that included this little nasty piece of road four times. It was beautiful.
So was the city. Segovia is famous for its monstrous aqueduct and its Disneyland-like castle that housed the king of Spain back in the day. It proved to be a great backdrop for riders who are cross-eyed in pain coming into the final 20km of a race.
I mentioned I'd drop out after a kamikaze effort to defend attacks and I am happy to report I did my job satisfactorily. (Afterwards, there's always second guessing, but at the time I was happy with it.) At a stage race, if you're not the leader, you judge your performance not on place or on time, but how well you did your job. The inspiration to do it is first to not let your teammates down. Also, you hope to avoid getting yelled at by Jose in the pre-bedtime team meeting.
The main obstacle was the Russian development squad. With most of their guys under 20, there were simply talented and well-drilled. Because this is well known throughout the peloton, there were also well marked. But that didn't keep us from having to mark their attacks too. Throughout the first hour of racing I'd often find myself on the wheel of those red bastards, going full speed trying to hang on for dear life until he finally turned around to see me, at which point they usually slow up because they know their move has failed. (They're never disappointed in this. I have only seen them disappointed at dinner, when they gloomily look at their empty salad plates, knowing they are not allowed to eat more that evening.)
But come 80km into the race, the rest of the team is told to sit in and I'm told to "make a tempo until death" -- that's the closest translation I can come up with. So here I am in the wind at the front of the peloton. Ugh, it's hard. And when those little red pieces o' shit go flying up the side and get 15 seconds on you with two other guys you start to get worried. And that's when you put your head down and just keep going in time trial mode. And when you finally catch them, that's what it's all about.
At that point, I'd drift back through the peloton as they surged for a counterattack or something. And then the Cuban or Felix would give me a nudge to help me get back up to the front (and get back to work).
I finally cracked and subsequently got in the car, faking a cramp and grabbing my leg (classic soccer move?) so that the judges didn't ask questions, and happily snatching a cold Coca Cola.
Will did some great work this vuelta. He was able to help drive a select break that had the Cuban in it. In case that doesn't sound hard, it is. I'll post his diary on the race soon so you can get the details. On the last day he attacked with 5km to go and survived until 2km to go (huge juevos), doing his part for the Cuban's stage win. It was very, very exciting to watch.
The other highlight for me: I got to see this from the point of view of team director. Yeah, I've been in the car before. But on the third stage Jose was hung over from partying the night before and only sleeping 30 min and I was able to do the whole thing. He literally was passed out in the back of the car for an hour and I was driving the team car, swerving in and out of the caravan, giving out magic water bottle launches, hollering into the team radios, and enjoying myself immensely. It was priceless.
So was the city. Segovia is famous for its monstrous aqueduct and its Disneyland-like castle that housed the king of Spain back in the day. It proved to be a great backdrop for riders who are cross-eyed in pain coming into the final 20km of a race.
I mentioned I'd drop out after a kamikaze effort to defend attacks and I am happy to report I did my job satisfactorily. (Afterwards, there's always second guessing, but at the time I was happy with it.) At a stage race, if you're not the leader, you judge your performance not on place or on time, but how well you did your job. The inspiration to do it is first to not let your teammates down. Also, you hope to avoid getting yelled at by Jose in the pre-bedtime team meeting.
The main obstacle was the Russian development squad. With most of their guys under 20, there were simply talented and well-drilled. Because this is well known throughout the peloton, there were also well marked. But that didn't keep us from having to mark their attacks too. Throughout the first hour of racing I'd often find myself on the wheel of those red bastards, going full speed trying to hang on for dear life until he finally turned around to see me, at which point they usually slow up because they know their move has failed. (They're never disappointed in this. I have only seen them disappointed at dinner, when they gloomily look at their empty salad plates, knowing they are not allowed to eat more that evening.)
But come 80km into the race, the rest of the team is told to sit in and I'm told to "make a tempo until death" -- that's the closest translation I can come up with. So here I am in the wind at the front of the peloton. Ugh, it's hard. And when those little red pieces o' shit go flying up the side and get 15 seconds on you with two other guys you start to get worried. And that's when you put your head down and just keep going in time trial mode. And when you finally catch them, that's what it's all about.
At that point, I'd drift back through the peloton as they surged for a counterattack or something. And then the Cuban or Felix would give me a nudge to help me get back up to the front (and get back to work).
I finally cracked and subsequently got in the car, faking a cramp and grabbing my leg (classic soccer move?) so that the judges didn't ask questions, and happily snatching a cold Coca Cola.
Will did some great work this vuelta. He was able to help drive a select break that had the Cuban in it. In case that doesn't sound hard, it is. I'll post his diary on the race soon so you can get the details. On the last day he attacked with 5km to go and survived until 2km to go (huge juevos), doing his part for the Cuban's stage win. It was very, very exciting to watch.
The other highlight for me: I got to see this from the point of view of team director. Yeah, I've been in the car before. But on the third stage Jose was hung over from partying the night before and only sleeping 30 min and I was able to do the whole thing. He literally was passed out in the back of the car for an hour and I was driving the team car, swerving in and out of the caravan, giving out magic water bottle launches, hollering into the team radios, and enjoying myself immensely. It was priceless.
posted by Unknown at 3:33 PM
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