Sacile—Cortina D’Ampezzo, 155km
I woke up in America to see that the Passo Fedaia and the Passo Pordoi had been stripped from the route due to adverse weather conditions. I began to lament another neutered Queen Stage. I questioned if the—by all definitions—legendary, archetypal, harrowing, bitter-cold mountain stages of days of yore are gone and never to return. Ah! Ah! What I would give to have glimpsed Andy Hampsten the Rabbit from the roadside on the icy Gavia stage in 1988. Or to go back to “the Gavia stage” before the Gavia, when in 1956 Charly Gaul, the Angel of the Mountains, rode up to Monte Bondone in a sudden snowstorm to take the lead of Giro while all others scuttled into cars or took hot-bathes along the route as still they battled to get to the top. These laments, these nostalgic longings to heroic ages have not been dismissed, but remarkably for a day or two at least they have been abated by what we saw and more importantly DID NOT SEE today.
To see Trek-Segafredo’s veteran captain and aging champion Vincenzo Nibali the Shark of Messina in the breakaway today with Quickstep’s Joao Almeida was a first band-aid and consolation prize to us tearful viewers who got not to see the Fedaia or Pordoi. Vincenzo Nibali in the twilight of his career striking out for a swansong victory before the curtains close for good. Our hearts were stirred to see this attacking racer out on a major attack on an epic stage once more—who knows how many Shark attacks are left in his career? But Nibali would have formidable competition: the already named Almeida, the other strong breakaway companions, a relentlessly paced peloton keeping them on a short leash, and another day of Biblical conditions. Yes, yes, all had their raincoats and gloves on, most even some sort of knee warmers or pants as well. The stage still opened up with the bruttish La Crosetta Category1 climb straight out of the gates. The strong breakaway formed there, of course. Then a quick descent. And with the exclusion of the Fedaia and the Giau, it was uncategorized and then categorized climbing all day up to the top of the Passo Giau. The Passo Giau would now function as the Cima Coppi—the highest point of this Giro edition—before the riders descended into the finish to the town of Cortina D’Ampezzo at the base of the climb. When we saw the conditions were brutal “enough” (#couchpeloton) and the intriguing smaller time gap to the break, we forgot our neutered Queen stage qualms and granted that this still had the potential to be a legendary stage. Yes, before the breakaway official began the Passo Giau, their lead was absolutely tumbling. No, no, once again it was not the Ineos Grenadiers slave-driving the peloton. It was in fact the EF Education-Nippo team in service of their leader Hugh Carthy. A man of Northern England and a tough man by all accounts, Hugh wanted a hard ride to rattle all the other General Classification (GC) contenders in the hopes of soaring up the rankings. Supposedly it was one of those classic scenes where Hugh woke up that morning, saw the awful conditions and smiled: ready to grab the metaphorical bull by the horns. Gino Bartali had a similar scene during the 1948 Tour de France and that on biblical day he won by some 17-minutes, could Hugh prove a similar champion today? EF Education-Nippo, already well undermanned from abandonments of this harsh Giro, rode with the strength of two teams this day. EF’s Tejay Van Garderen and Alberto Bettiol did Herculean turns of pace for their leader: truly, truly, they were those performances we love where someone discovers they have new limits and capabilities they never dreamed of. One by one they were catching the breakaway, alas! even Nibali the Shark of Messina was no match for them.
With still 25km to race, still 10km of official Giau climbing to go, most of the breakaway was caught or about to be, and the “peloton” of favorites was down to only 10 riders. EF teammate Simon Carr was pacing Hugh Carthy in front, then came Ineos’ Dani Martinez followed by Egan Bernal in the Maglia Rosa sadly not showing under his raincoat, next was Trek’s Guilio Ciccone continuing the greatest GC campaign of his career to date, then DSM’s Romain Bardet hanging in there well despite the brutal conditions, Bahrain’s Damiano Caruso was there holding his own—in the absence of Mikel Landa Caruso was seizing one of the last major GC chances of his career, and O! was he giving it everything—and finally dangling at the rear of the group was Simon Yates (Team BikeExchange). Remco Evenepoel (Deceuninck-Quickstep) was suffering and long gone; perhaps that was to have been expected at the beginning of the day when Almeida was allowed into the break. The camera did not capture it, but reports were that Astana’s Aleksandr Vlasov had had a wardrobe malfunction tangling his coat into the wheels of his bike. In the very distance we could see him chasing back on as Simon Yates, 2nd Overall on GC, was shockingly definitively being dropped. Ah! Ah! Still so much climbing left, this was going to be a thrilling finale. But then all of a sudden, we were thrown-back into a bygone era. The broadcast cut out due to the horrible weather conditions.
In the days when cycling was king—the most popular sport in Continental Europe—the sport was consumed and digested somewhat through radio, but mostly by vivid journalism in the newspaper accounts that came out the next day. There were no TV cameras to capture the action. The most acclaimed handful of journalists rode in the lead car at the head of the Giro d’Italia, but in those Pre-War days and even in the Golden Age and to the days of Eddy Merckx, on such high mountain days the competitors and the action would be strewn all over the road. Even the journalists with the best seat in the house could not see all that happened. Thus at the finish line rider interviews were crucial. The riders would cross the line and be bombarded with journalists not just looking for a good quote, but trying to figure out what happened. Pinch yourself for a second, in what other sport in the post-game interview is the athlete asked to explain what happened to a clueless audience? Now, now, continue running with this idea. No TV cameras. Only race official reports, what can be seen from the cars, and what can be gleaned from rider interviews at the finish. Yes, yes, inevitably there were gaps in the stories. Did the journalists admit or simply omit the holes in the story as they came up? Of course not! They took many grand and imaginative liberties. Some would say they “made stuff up,” I dare say they “gracefully fabricated myths,” they “embellished with the most honest and heartfelt of intents.” To one-dimensionally report exactly what literally happened was never and should never have been the authors’ primary goal, this was the opportunity to craft a heroic ride from a champion into an immortal day of legend. And now, harnessing only the scan details we have for the TV broadcast did not return until the very finish, here today on the Passo Giau, we get a rare opportunity to do this again.
Simon Yates was already dropping. Aleksandr Vlasov was frantically chasing back after his misfortune. Soon the French Welshman…or is he a Welsh Frenchman…Simon Carr would be swinging off the front job done for his EF teammate Hugh Carthy. Then, save Dani Martinez who is high on GC himself, it would only be man against man of all the GC favorites. Ah! But from the outset the man in a class above the rest, the straight A student, Egan Bernal stamped his authority once again. Bernal attacked what remained of this group. Did he just want to dominate this Giro completely? Or did he possibly want as much of a buffer as possible for what was sure to be a nerve-rackingly tricky descent? There, there went Egan Bernal in his raincoat covering up the Maglia Rosa, but still he could be picked out assuredly by the fetching Pink Helmet he has been donning since moving into the race lead. The weather was getting worse, yes, yes, perhaps he even pushed the pace more in order just to stay even warmer, and to sooner finish the stage. But yes, of course, he also wanted to re-show the world he is one of the greatest engines of the era. He lost at the Tour last year, did not even finish the race, but now he is truly back and back than ever. Already his Tour Queen stage victory was pulled out from underneath him in 2019 when landslides cancelled the stage where he would have just ripped open a winning margin of minutes and minutes. Already parts of this Giro Queen stage were robbed from him, surely, surely he would make the most of what was left. Egan Bernal the Crown Jewel of Colombian cycling was flying away unphased by the weather, ever subconsciously knowing with each pedal stroke he was strengthening his prestige and building his legend, ever consciously knowing with each pedal stroke he was gapping his rivals and getting closer to the finish where he could take a hot shower.
As was stated, Egan Bernal has been in a class above the rest this Giro. None could go with his attack, ah! but who would be the next best among the top men left? Yates and Vlasov were not on good days, Remco long gone. What about Hugh Carthy whose team had done such excellent work today? Guilio Ciccone—having the GC race of his life? No, no, these two would prove the benchmark of the Top 10 GC riders for the day. Besides Bernal, two unexpected ones would exceed them. At 33 years of age, having spent a career as a top climbing domestique ever only getting rare chances for himself, Bahrain Victorious’ Italian Damiano Caruso was seizing the chance of a lifetime. Mikel Landa crashed out long ago, in his absence Caruso has been riding for a podium spot. For a support rider like Caruso whose biggest GC result was 9th at the Vuelta a Espana years ago, to finish just on the podium of his home Giro d’Italia would be a fairytale come true. Surely, surely, that was fueling the man today as he of all the GC contenders was the closest in the chase to Bernal. His whole career has been leading up to this Giro, and now here on a harrowing day on the high slopes of the Passo Giau not only was Caruso thrillingly fighting for survival, he was actually banking up time on his biggest rivals. Yes, yes, on stages such as these the rich get richer and the poor the poorer—the climbs and brutal conditions do not cause these realities, they only exacerbate them. This was Damiano’s Giro! Egan Bernal could be in a class above the rest, but Damiano would ride his coattails as best he could. Perhaps in his older age, Caruso was the most grizzled and metaphorically calloused-over and prepared for such a gruesome day as this. For many kilometers he managed to keep Bernal in his crosshairs within a dozen seconds, following him with all his heart: the greatest carrot on a stick he had ever chased. On, on, they rode in the fearful elements, wind, rain, sleet, and snow—blessed was the race no ice or snow was sticking to the road.
As the riders approached the top of the Passo Giau, they were in a winter wonderland. Snow plowed off to the sides 10 ft high, ah! but to the riders it looked like it was 30 ft. Egan Bernal approached the summit and was chased by a wild fan wielding a chainsaw—was this a dream or was this just the Giro d’Italia? Of all restrictions ever imposed in the history of the world, how does a fan wielding a chainsaw get within feet of the race leader on course? But as Egan crested the climb and saw the valley below him, he blew a kiss to crowds who had made the arduous pilgrimage to the top. Then he took a swig of hot chocolate from a soigneur to warm his innards for the way down, and he was off descending without skipping a beat. (An Author’s Note: Only one of these summit details definitely happened. And as is the way with cycling it was the most outlandish one). Egan had built up a 30-second advantage on Damiano Caruso chasing behind. Caruso came over the top, but did not dare pinch himself and acknowledge he was having not only the race of his life, but time of his life as well—despite being at the utter limits of exhaustion. No, he had to focus on the next harrowing task at hand: the descent of the Giau into Cortina d’Ampezzo where great praises and a hot shower were waiting for him. But 20 seconds after Caruso came the last supremely remarkable performance of the day; Team DSM’s Frenchman Romain Bardet was looking better than he has in years! Yes, yes, after years of buildup, Bardet finished on the podium of the Tour de France in 2016 and 2017 for his old AG2R team, but since then his progress has stalled out. He transferred to Team DSM this off season in search of a new lease of life: today he had it. Ah! Ah! Perhaps if we all remember that entertaining ghostly-white edition of Strade Bianche in 2018 where Bardet finished on the podium in between Teisj Benoot (now of DSM) and Wout Van Aert (now of Jumbo-Visma), we would not have been surprised to see him going so well today amidst the brutal conditions. Behind him a far stone’s throw away was the next Ciccone, Carthy, and chasing Vlasov group. O! How Bardet wanted time on these nearest rivals, he would not allow them to get back into contention for Romain Bardet is one of those most elite of descenders. Ah! Ah! For Bardet it was Caruso or bust, and truly I mean bust in such dangerous conditions. Some have said Bardet descends like a daredevil, other have said like a reckless idiot. Surely, surely, part of the reason Bernal had attacked was to have a buffer on his rivals so that he did not have to take as many risks on the descent. It seemed Caruso used the same playbook, he had time on all his podium rivals, he could not throwaway the podium risking too much on this descent. Ah! But Bardet sitting in 9th on GC to start the day, surely he was ready to take some risks to greatly increase his position. Romain Bardet became a Peregrine Falcon slipping and sliding his way down Splash Mountain. Ah! But for Bardet, a descending animal, he was in his element, loving the moment—the pitiful Disney Splash Mountain could not compare to the excitement he was having now. Like an Olympic downhill skier, like a wartime courier racing for his life between enemy lines to deliver the message to the desperate superior, he went with all speed in pursuit of his goal: time, less time, the most minimal time possible. Who can say how many times his brakes almost locked up, he almost lost traction, his heart jumped up to his throat, his body wielded the force of a Jedi to will himself faster than physics would allow? Ah! Ah! A daredevil he truly is, but it paid off for him this day: in the final 2km as the descent was finally coming to an end, he caught Damiano Caruso.
In the last kilometer there were two or three fixed cameras to catch the riders who would be trickling to the finish in ones and twos. This is where the embellishment ends, but real life is still stranger than fiction. Into view came Egan Bernal with his Pink Helmet with navy blue raincoat and shorts. We have become accustomed to the marginal-gains efficiency of Team Sky and this further Ineos incarnation, in that vein why leave anything at all to chance? But here was Egan Bernal in the last 400m of a brutal high mountain stage of the Giro d’Italia. He was putting time into all of his rivals, but even though it was only Stage 16 still he figured he could spare a few seconds to honor the race and give the people a show. With 300m still to ride, when seconds could still be gained, Egan Bernal sat up and unzipped his navy-blue Jacket. He worked with a bit of difficulty in the cold and wet to take the jacket fully off in order to show the full Maglia Rosa. He stuffed his jacket under the back of his jersey and basked in the cheers of the crowd. I daresay the act was yet another throwback. Yes, yes, it reminded me of THE Pedaleur de Charme Hugo Koblet who was known to race with colonge and a comb in his pocket. For as he was sailing in to win by a large margin in the final kilometers, he would suavely brush his hair and mask his sweat and toil in sweet aromas to make the whole race seem effortless. Thus Bernal did such an effortless ride today, and probably cost himself ten or a dozen GC seconds in the process. The others came in playing the proper part. Bardet beat Caruso in the final sprint 26 seconds later—truly, truly both looked on their last legs. Ciccone, Carthy, and Almeida all hammered it as hard as they could to the very last meter. And the rest were even more spent. It was an absolutely monster day, it was a masterpiece by the Giro. To have kept the Fedaia and Pordoi would have been only to have given Bernal two more high passes to have taken more time on the competition. Perhaps that would have been cool to see, it has been years since a Grand Tour was thoroughly dominated, but then that is the trick of it all: we probably would not have seen the Fedaia and the Pordoi. Yes, yes, no helicopters, no airplane, no service to broadcast the pictures, it would have only been worse on the Fedaia and Pordoi than it was on the Giau. And again, here was the lucky stroke of genius: if today’s profile containing only the La Crosetta and the Passo Giau was the original profile, all would have agreed this was an absolutely phenomenal stage without ever thinking something was missing. Thus, in reality we gluttonous cycling fans got everything we wanted and more out of the day without any race-ending pain for many riders. We had a hard day in apocalyptic weather over a very famous climb where everyone now has a minimum of three new war-stories to tell. We had some thrilling racing with quite a bit of intrigue and suspense. We learned or deduced more about peripheral characters who rose to the occasion to do the deeds of heroes. And we had winner in the Pink Jersey who was not just a champion today, but a legend.
Cycling Odysseys 