2021 TDF Stage 14: The Vanguard Battles into the Pyrenees

Carcassonne—Quillan, 183km

Despite such a dramatic culmination to the Manx Missile’s Record Chase, not even 24 hours later the Tour has moved on. Heading South out of Carcassonne, the next battleground where war would be waged was seen off in the distance, France’s other greatest mountain range, the Pyrenees. The Pyrenees are France’s Southwest border, a remarkable natural wall separating France from Spain. It is a place of millennia cultural divide. For some 500 or 700 hundred years—almost the entirety of the Middle Ages—while the proto-kingdoms of Spain were overrun by the Moors, the Pyrenees served as one of the global dividing lines between the Christian and Muslim world. And for the last 5-or-6 centuries, the famous kingdoms of Europe centralized their authorities, gobbled up smaller regional kingdom neighbors, and tried to inculcate their practices and customs on the new frontier lands. Before the Renaissance even began, all the way through the Enlightenment, and culminating in the Napoleonic Wars these national territorial conflicts became the norm for most generations of Europeans. After Napoleon the endless virulent wars launched for the conquest of strategic slivers of land at the far-reaching borders came to an end more-or-less for a century until WWI. It was between Napoleon and WWI that all the European nations went about cementing and instilling national pride in all their citizens—especially those at the fringes who usually were (or even still are today) more loyal to their regional than national identity.

Admittedly, this instilling of nationalism in the French border citizens was much more needed in the Alps where the borders were much more influx than in the Pyrenees which had already long been a cultural divide. But at the turn of the 20th Century one of the greatest tools to help the French learn about what was and wasn’t France was the newly created Tour de France. Should one run through the maps of the first 40 editions or so of the Tour de France, it will be difficult to miss how the race almost exclusively ran along the margins of the country—it even criminally shafted the country’s interior. The Tour would often go to Nice near the Italian border to establish that Nice was once-and-for-all French—a not-at-all well-established fact until decades after Napoleon. It would venture into the Brittany peninsula each year to remind or to impress upon these formerly ancient Brits or Celts—and the rest of France—that the Bretons are French too. It would defiantly visit the cities along the German border where territorial conflicts were most heated around the time of both World Wars. And it would always survey the Pyrenean villages to let them know they too are French and not forgotten. Thus, for over a century, the Tour has visited the Pyrenees not just for dramatic racing, but to help define France’s southern cultural border. O! Please keep the history lesson in mind for the next 5 stages as the Tour de France meanders across and through France’s Pyrenees, its southern high border wall.

Today’s Stage 14 would be an hors d’oeuvre of sorts for the main course of Pyrenees high mountain stages to come. Today was a lumpy hilly stage containing a combination of 5 Category2 and Category3 climbs. It was a day that could not prove decisive in the King of the Mountains competition, but it could certainly swing those close standings. And with the pivotal and high mountain stages to come—perhaps what is the Queen Stage of the Tour transpires tomorrow—this was an ideal day for the breakaway to go away to the line. Thus it was a ferocious fight to make the break, it was a hostile battle to have the honor to ride in the vanguard as it entered the premiere mountain range of this edition of the Tour de France. The vanguard is the leading company or unit at the front-and-center of the battleline. It is a place for the best and bravest, it is an honor to be chosen for the lead, it is the greatest responsibility in the battle, and it is a perilous position. In cycling, such terms of ancient and medieval warfare can often easily be applied to the peloton, but they are always in a way twisted. For though the peloton travels together like an army on an Odyssey, the wars the riders wage are not against the locals whose homelands they are invading, but are pitched battles of civil war between themselves. So it was today, once 14 men had earned their way into the vanguard of the Tour’s entrance into the Pyrenees, they then immediately began waging war upon each other as they distanced the peloton behind.

Our interest was piqued to see this vanguard breakaway crest every climb; yes, the competition for the King of the Mountains Jersey was in full swing today. Arkea-Samsaic’s Nairo Quintana began the stage in the lead of the KOM Classification with an even 50 Points, Jumbo’s Wout Van Aert was in second with 43 Points, Start-Up Nation’s Mike Woods was in third with 42 Points, Bahrain’s Wout Poels was in fourth with 39 Points, and Trek’s Bauke Mollema was in fifth with 36 Points. First and second places, Nairoman Quintana and Swiss Army Knife Van Aert, had not gotten into the break today, but third, fourth, and fifth places Woods, Poels, and Mollema had. On the Category3 climbs, only 2 Points are available to the first rider over, and 1 Point for the second. Thus the first Category3 climb of the day was not heavily contested, especially since the breakaway was still in the process of establishing itself. But at each of the Category2 climbs to come were 5 Points available to first to top, 3 Points for second, 2 Points for third, and 1 Point for fourth. As stated, taking 5 Points over the top was not an embarrassment of riches, but it was a significant return for a rider’s efforts, and with three Category2’s on today’s route the same rider could gobble up a sizable share of KOM Points if they were at the front of the race in the breakaway. Thus it was really thanks to Mike Woods’ and Wout Poels’ quest for KOM Points that the breakaway was formed on their coattails as they rode out of the peloton for the points available atop the first Category2 climb of the day. Wout Poels took the maximum KOM Points in a bike-throw as Mike Woods kicked himself for seeming to have botched the sprint. But on the next Category2, the tables turned and Woods got the better of Wout Poels; both had then scored 8 KOM Points each on the day. Thus Woods drew level with Nairo Quintana who was then currently wearing the Polka-Dots back in the peloton. With 2 climbs still left on the day for the break to score Points, and the peloton with no seeming interest to even bring back the breakaway, it now seemed Woods or Poels would be moving into Polka-Dots tonight. The question was which one.

The Woods and Poels battle continued up the next Category3 climb, and this time it was Poels who took the maximum 2 Points available, while Woods took the 1 Point. With the 1 Point, Woods had provisionally moved into the Polka-Dot Jersey, but with only a 2 Point margin on Poels. The last Category2 climb of the day, the Col de Saint-Louis, would decide the Jersey between them. Ah! But the wholesome competition was quickly marred on the descent. As is often the case at the Tour de France, bizarre things were afoot. It was so hot in the Pyrenean valley the Tour was traversing: the asphalt of the road was starting to melt. Apparently the melting was not significant enough to need any race neutralization, but all the riders were warned over the radio. Which if you are a rider on the Tour…what do you do with that information? How do you react or prepare to ride over a possibly melting road? When I heard the commentators declare this, I did not think much of it: I figured it was just an overblown detail to make the Tour sound even more grueling and difficult, but nothing would come of it…And then minutes later Michael Woods, leading the breakaway on the descent, slipped out on a corner exactly where Race Radio had said the melting would be. Having come to the sport very late with a talented runner’s background, it has always been noticeable Mike Woods lacks the same technical bike-handling proficiency of the average professional cyclist who essentially grew up on two wheels. Thus it is hard to tell if the slide out was due to his subpar bike-handling, the bad luck of being the first to tackle the unexpected difficult melted patch of road, or if it was some combination of the two. In the end, the incident just further hurts his handling credentials, Woods scrapped up some skin and tore some shorts, and he had created a taller task for himself on the final climb to nab the KOM Polka-Dot Jersey. But to his credit, Woods was up very quickly, and seeming unphased by the crash, he rejoined the 14-man break within a couple of kilometers to be back in the hunt for KOM Points and the stage win.

But, as is often the case, on a little uncategorized rise, Trek’s Bauke Mollema clipped off the front of the breakaway to try his luck with 40km to go. Woods and Poels were proving the strongest on the climbs, so why wouldn’t Mollema try to get a jump on them and the rest to have a head start for the last Category2 climb? Should he stay away solo over the top of that, it was just a descent into the finish where he should have little problem holding off any chasers. Thus, Mollema attacked, no one immediately tried to go with or close him down, and quickly before anyone realized it Mollema had a 25-second gap. Over the next 20km as they approached the final Category2, Mollema’s lead on the breakaway chasers would balloon to some 75 seconds. There was nothing flashy, or grand, or even audacious about Mollema’s attack; it was simply textbook perfect timing…so perfect it was almost boring. At 34, Mollema is a veteran of the sport, he has been a consistent rider for much of his career, and his best results have come from similar lower-key attacks just like this. He has finished many Grand Tours in the top ten on GC. He won the mountainous San Sebastian Basque Country Summer Classic riding away on a false flat in 2016. In 2019 he won the mountainous Race of the Falling Leaves Il Lombardia Monument by again attacking away on another false flat while the biggest favorites just stared each other down. And in 2017, he won a Tour stage that was almost a carbon-copy of this one: on Stage 14, around the Pyrenees, rolling and hilly terrain, he escaped from the break when there was a lull in the action. From a fan’s perspective, I have never seen Mollema really light up a race or invigorate with some sort of swashbuckling attack, but certainly all can appreciate the man’s talent for reading a race and taking his chance at the perfect time. For behind, his rivals could not get their acts together and mount a cohesive chase. Besides two spent B&B Hotels riders, everyone else in the breakaway had no teammates to pour all their energy into chasing down Mollema. All were cagey, not wanting to be the one to spend the energy to catch Mollema who was now completely emptying the tank in a 40km time trial.

They were certainly in the Pyrenees now, though they were not tackling the giant brutes, none could miss that they were in picturesque valleys that could grace the back of postcards and keep painters busy for hours. On Mollema drove it into and up the Col de Saint-Louis climb whose coiling-snake beauty from above was a highlight of the day. On the climb, it was make or break for the chasers to get their act together and eat into Mollema’s gap. But the chasers did not have it, they pulled Mollema to within a minute, but that was the best they could do. Woods rode at the front of the chasers to nab the 3 KOM Points available for second while Wout Poels had cracked and would score nothing for that climb. Woods would move into Polka-Dots tonight while none would catch Mollema out front on the descent and into the finish. But many of the riders in that vanguard breakaway still rode hard and raced all the way to the line, most out of pride, some for reward. Most notably Socrates Guillaume Martin (Cofidis) who would finish a 1:28 down on Mollema…and 5:25 ahead of the peloton containing all the other GC favorites. The Frenchman Guillaume Martin had begun the day in 9th place on GC, 9:29 down on UAE’s Tadej Pogacar. With this 5:25 gap to the peloton, the Frenchman Martin has now moved up to 2nd place on GC, 4:04 behind Pogacar. Martin had tried riding for GC at last year’s Tour, but his campaign collapsed halfway through that Tour. He came into this Tour hunting stages, but after moving up to 2nd place on GC and being a Frenchman: surely now he must try to ride and defend his GC placing. What does Martin have left for the next high Pyrenean stages to come?

No offense to Mollema, Woods, Poels, and Martin, but today was not a blockbuster stage. It was a smooth transition stage to ease up into the Pyrenees and further set up storylines. Tomorrow comes the big day, the Queen Stage in many people’s eyes. Woods, Poels, Quintana, and any others interested in Polka-Dots MUST come out to play tomorrow. Was Quintana saving himself today? Will Woods and Poels have the energy to attack again tomorrow? If anyone actually dreams of beating Young Beowulf Crowned King Tadej Pogacar, they MUST try to exploit a chink in his armor tomorrow. But if all the GC contenders left have really already set their sights on racing for 2nd place Overall, at the very least tomorrow shall be a compelling day of drama in that narrative. Yes, led by the battles of the Vanguard breakaway today, the Tour de France is now well and truly the Pyrenees, the premiere mountain range of this edition of the Tour de France. One Pyrenean stage is down, still four more to go.  

2021 TDF Stage 13: Hopping Off the Fence in Historic Carcassonne

Nimes—Carcassonne, 219km

It was a long one to control, and in the last 60km it was the Deceuninck-Quickstep Wolfpack vs the field to hold the peloton together for the sprint. A sizeable 30-man crash took out the Wolfpack’s Tractor Tim DeClercq who would have been essential in neutralizing every attack. Instead the burden to chase everything down or follow every move like an anchor fell upon the Wolfpack’s Julian Alaphilippe the Musketeer wearing the World Champion’s Rainbow Jersey and the Tour of Flanders winner Kasper Asgreen. It is notorious for a breakaway to survive into Carcassonne for often the stages are long and difficult to control like this one was today. But the Quickstep Wolfpack were on a mission to make history this very day if they could deliver the Manx Missile Mark Cavendish to the line first. They made it all the way to the outskirts of Carcassonne, but by that point their lead out had been much more diminished than they would have liked. Dries Devenyns was done, and Mattia Cattaneo was already emptying the tank. Additionally, the final run-in was hectic, technical, and narrow. There were no crashes, but undermanned it was still harder than usual for the Wolfpack than on Cav’s other chances this Tour. But under the Flamme Rouge, the Red Flame signifying 1K remaining, there was Quickstep with 3 Wolves in front of Mark Cavendish wearing the Green Jersey as leader of the Points Classification at this Tour de France. That’s when the weight of the scene really fell upon us all viewing: we are one-minute away from seeing if Cav could really do this. For an entire decade, Cav and the Merckx 34 Tour stage record has been a topic of conversation. Now here today, would he finally equal it? The heartrate rose, the palms began to sweat, the eyes widened, nothing in the world could distract us in that moment. And then something strange happened, the last K became interminable.

As usual, like charging bulls the lead-out trains were galloping to the line in drag-race formations with the Wolfpack quartet clearly at the tip of the arrow. Kasper Asgreen—that powerful engine—still drove on the front for another 400m until a 90-degree left hand turn with about 600m to go. But into that turn, Quickstep had the inside line and as Asgreen swung off they were swamped by all their rivals. All of this seemed to be taking much longer than usual. Were all viewing caught up in the surreal moment? We were all so focused and in the zone that time was slowing down so that we could follow and analyze all the minute machinations of the sprint, and one man in Green above all? Perhaps this was all psychologically going on, but something else less noticeable was also physically transpiring as well: this finish was on a false-flat uphill drag for most of the last kilometer. With 500m to go, DSM had two driving the pace and Bahrain’s Sonny Colbrelli was in good position. Quickstep still had Davide Ballerini and that talisman Michael Morkov for Cavendish, but Cavendish was getting unhooked as top rivals like Nacer Bouhanni (Arkea-Samsaic) and Michael Matthews (Team BikeExchange) were rapidly moving up. O! Cav had to scramble to latch back onto Morkov’s wheel, while ahead teammate Ballerini was leading out almost too fast for anyone else’s liking. And still they were not even in the last 300m yet. Up to Ballerini came Movistar’s Ivan Garcia Cortina to take his shot at glory; Cortina’s presence really begins to hint at how deceptively hard this finish was. All the other sprinters were falling away, even Matthews and Colbrelli who need some sort of ramp like this if they are to win a sprint. But one man did not let Garcia Cortina get away: the finest lead out man in the history of the sport, Michael Morkov the Dane, the Tactical Grandmaster. And on the wheel of Morkov, turning himself inside out to finish off the job his team had put their hearts and souls into all day, was Mark Cavendish the Manx Missile the hero of the real-life fairytale of his own creation. Morkov could not have drawn even with Cortina until less than 50m remaining on the stage, and through it all he was powering up seated in the saddle. But before Morkov even drew level with Cortina, behind with every last scrap of energy and every fiber of his being, Cav was launching round his Grandmaster lead out man. He had the bit between his teeth, he was scrambling and wrestling with the bike, he was desperate to get to the line fastest—simply to have the job completed. Alpecin’s Jasper Philipsen was coming up as well, but Cavendish has had his number all season. Ahead, Cortina had topped out, reached maximum velocity. And Mark Cavendish the Manx Missile in his tiny low-aero position had enough acceleration in those closing meters to finish the job in Carcassonne, and take the 34th Tour stage win of his career equally Eddy Merckx’s thought-to-be unassailable record.

That one hurt, that was by far the most difficult of his 4 stages this Tour. The finish was harder than it looked, it caught out O! so many of the other sprinters who went too early. The pure sprinter Mark Cavendish could have given up, packed it in, or at least just rolled in for a calculated 6th or 7th place to score a respectable sum of Points; but he didn’t. Cav did not give up on this one, he rode it all the way out and the stars the aligned…or he and his Wolfpack team made the stars align. And after so long, after so many years, after four years of complete bottom-of-the-barrel darkness, finally, finally the record is equaled. As his teammates came to hug and congratulate him, Cav would notably hug them even harder in gratitude and confirm they had just “Made History.” Then we eagerly awaited the winner’s interview to see if he would finally drop the façade that the 34-stage record did not matter to him. To his credit, in the interview he stuck to his script: he was too tired to think straight because he had to dig so deep for that one, but he recalled in detail the blow-by-blows of the final kilometer. When pressed on the significance of tying the Merckx record, still he said he was just thrilled to win another stage of the Tour—the race he dreamed of as a kid—and hopefully his performances here will inspire the next generation of children who were watching. Later in the full press conference, he said he should never be compared to Eddy Merckx who is the greatest cyclist of all time. This is fair enough, and true: of course, Cavendish is not greater than Merckx, nor in the same league. But Mark Cavendish is the greatest sprinter of all time; and after this Tour, Mario Cipollini is finally solidly in second place. So Cav can say he has no interest in comparing, but he does know he made history today. Thus, I think the question is fair: which individual accomplishment is more impressive, Merckx’s 34 Tour stage wins or Cav’s? I could be swayed either way, but in order to keep my word I shall now hop off the fence and take a stance. The time for objective impartial viewing of both sides of the argument has been done, and now must be set aside. The road has met the rubber. The pushes have come to shoves.

Paradoxically, though there are very few people who cherish the Swiss Army Knives and Renaissance Men of cycling more than me because they take diverse and dynamic wins across multiple cycling disciplines and on all types of terrains: Mark Cavendish’s 34 Tour stage victories are the impressive pinnacle of specialization, and I think Cav’s specialized 34 Tour stages is a greater feat than Merckx’s versatile 34. I base my ultimate case on two pillars: quality and opportunity. But first to address the minor point people will always level against Cav: “He won because he had the best lead out train.” Mark Cavendish’s Wolfpack lead out train in 2021 is essentially the same Wolfpack lead out train Sam Bennett had in 2020, and even the same Wolfpack lead out train Elia Viviani had for multiple Grand Tours before that. The praise given to Michael Morkov the Tactical Grandmaster can never be enough, but at this 2021 Tour the Quickstep lead out looks much better than it did for Sam Bennett in 2020 with essentially the same personnel. Do they all like Cav more than Bennett? Doubtful, both seem good guys. Do they just want to be part of history, helping the legend win? Certainly, but I don’t think that is what made them clearly elevate their game. Their game has been elevated because they are confident in Cav like no other sprinter before. Notice how much more outstanding the lead out was for Cav’s third stage win this Tour compared to his first—even today on his fourth when they were banged up and undermanned it was better than Cav’s first win on Stage 4. These guys feed off Cav’s confidence subconsciously. They are more prepared to bury themselves for the clutch lights-out winner than for the guy just doing well, or for the unproven hopeful up-and-comer. It was the same back with the HTC Highroad days, Cav’s head-and-shoulders prowess made that lead out train the best in the world.  

Now, let us treat quality. In Merckx’s day the difference between the quality of the winner and 100th place at the Tour was a bigger chasm than the Grand Canyon, and the difference between first and tenth was also still a sizable gap at times as big as the Mississippi River south of St. Louis. In Merckx’s era, of course certain guys were better at sprinting or climbing or time-trialing or riding GC for a full Grand Tour. But in general, all the riders were much more versatile than the riders have been for Cav’s years of racing. As Cav was coming up the competition was so fierce, riders could only afford to hone-in and perfect one facet of their game to have professional success. Of course, Cav knew he was born to be a pure sprinter—the fastest man on two wheels—and all of Cav’s 34 Tour stages came against other talented riders born to be bunch sprinters. Yes, Merckx won mountain stages and time trials by minutes, but it was against other similar but less talented all-rounders. Cavendish took sprint after sprint—sometimes by handfuls of full bike lengths—against the other greatest sprinters that have ever lived. And over the course of 13 years, Cav has beat the best sprinters of 3 different generations of cycling.

Then there is the opportunity factor. I am not saying: “If Eddy Merckx is so versatile, why didn’t he win more?” But I am saying, Cav has had much more limited reasonable opportunities to win based off his skillset, and he has made the most of them. Going through the Tours Cav has competed in there have roughly been 70 stages that Cavendish had a realistic chance to win. With 34 wins he is batting around .500 ball for his career—and the wins came against tougher competition than what Merckx faced. Some years there were only five or even four, at most on a given Tour there were 9 realistic opportunities for Cav to win while Eddy Merckx really could have competed on every sort of terrain. Meanwhile, in the six Tours Merckx won stages combined there were about 150 stages available for him to win (I won’t even include the 1977 Tour which he rode and won no stages because the wheels of domination had by then fallen off). Even if we spot a supremely generous entire half of these as unrealistic to win due to GC tactics or strategic recovery or keeping powder dry, there were still 75 other opportunities that suited him. To win 34 of the 75 puts Merckx’s average at around .450, which is of course still amazing. But Cavendish’s average is higher even after all the spotting, and Cav’s wins were against more cream of the crop competition. Both feats are of course incredible, but I would say Cavendish’s 34 sprints is just a bit more exceptional and shall go down as the greatest accomplishment of specialized cycling.

The era of specialization produced someone who seemed to have won 7 Tours. An Italian sprinter who took 42 Giro flat stages, and dozens of similarly flat Tour and Vuelta stages. A Lion of Flanders who won 6 Cobbled Monuments, another Flandrien who won 7 Cobbled Monuments. That Flandrien’s Swiss archrival won 6 Cobbled Monuments, a Sanremo, and 4 Time Trial World Championships. And another German time-trialist matched the 4 Time Trial World Titles record after that. Do you see the pattern? They all racked up their counts at the one or two things they were good at—and pursued one World Championship that fully suited their characteristics, their exact rider-mold. And finally now, Cavendish has by brute-force specialization equaled one of the greatest feats of versatility. As I have laid out the case, this crown jewel feat of specialization has greatly impressed me, even though I love Range over Specialization. Now reading the tea leaves, the sacrificed animal’s entrails, the birds’ signs in the air, I dare believe and hope and bet this era of specialization is now complete with Cav’s specialization-pinnacle achievement. Throughout Cavendish’s career, the winds have been changing course: Chris Froome, Alberto Contador, and Vincenzo Nibali have all targeted and won all three Grand Tours. Peter Sagan has probably been the greatest pioneer in versatile Range as he rewrote, overhauled, and dominated at how to win the Green Points Jersey—of which he now holds the record; meanwhile he additionally competes across all the Classics and took three dissimilar World Championships right in a row. Philippe Gilbert needs but one Sanremo victory to be only the 4th rider to have won All Five Monuments. Alejandro Valverde has done his part winning a multitude of lumpy stages at all times of the calendar, many hilly Classics, finished on the podium of all three Grand Tours, and won the Vuelta a Espana outright. Primoz Roglic morphed from a pure time-trialist into a Grand Tour winner who can also hold his own or win hilly Classics and Monuments. And the 2021 Strade Bianche was a seminal showcase of Range: Mathieu Van Der Poel, Wout Van Aert, Julian Alaphilippe, Egan Bernal, Tadej Pogacar, Tom Pidcock, and—we can’t forget—Michael Gogl all mixing it up to win the most unique one-day race on the calendar. With my position defended that Cav’s specialization feat is greater than Merckx’s equal feat of versatility, I am now ready and happy to move onto the next thing. The era of specialization is ending on a high note with this Cavendish fairytale run in the twilight of his career. But I end now by opening a new can of worms to be kept tabs on for years to come. Already Wout Van Aert has taken Tour stages on the flat, in the crosswinds, in the high mountains, and surely someday soon in a Time Trial. Should Wout or another generational talent continue to take such diverse stage wins at the Tour de France…as soon as that rider gets 20 or even 17 wins, I will declare their stage count accomplishment more impressive than Merckx’s and Cav’s 34 record that was tied today.  

2021 TDF Stage 12: The Lesser-Knowns Fire Their Shots

Saint-Paul-Trois-Chateaux—Nimes, 159km

Well, it was a predominantly flat stage, but there was action out of the gates. It was fierce fighting for the breakaway and there were opening echelons forming from the attacks and the wind. But a thirteen-man break soon went up the road, and the stage settled down. Then before we knew it with 90km to go the breakaway had a 10-minute lead. Behind in the peloton, UAE was the only team riding on the front. Mark Cavendish and his Deceuninck-Quickstep Wolfpack team were nowhere to be seen, for one reason or another they were taking a day off from record chasing. Perhaps the carnage of Ventoux was too much and especially the sprinters needed an easier day to get their legs back. Thus it would be a day for the riders of lesser fame to elevate and increase their glory, perhaps to take the biggest win of their career.

But this 13-man breakaway was not made up of slouches. They were not cannon fodder, nor were they just the roster-rounders-out, most of the men that made this breakaway were the most physically built—perhaps in a sense, even burly riders of the peloton. Surely, they must have taken advantage to form off the crosswind echelons, thus these were some of the best echelon riders. Famously smaller of build sprinters like Mark Cavendish and some diminutive Colombians like Arkea’s Nairo Quintana always go well in echelons, but predominantly the riders who preform best in the crosswinds are the bigger riders in the peloton who have the frame and muscles to lay down the most powerful watts. Typically these bigger men are suited to sprinting, time-trialing, and/or the fierce Cobbled Classics requiring explosive efforts; all domains where weight is not much of a hindrance like it is in the mountains. Then additionally, these bigger riders that go well in the crosswinds are naturally some of the strongest riders available for a breakaway trying to hold off the peloton; conversely were these riders in the peloton they would be some of the best men available to chase down the breakaway. Allow me to increase the fame and renown of these men while simultaneously measuring how well they stack up to my categorization of the optimal riders for this stage. Israel Start-Up Nation’s now veteran Andre Greipel the Gorilla—an appropriately given nickname if ever there was one—was  one of the greatest and most powerful sprinters of the last generation. Trek’s Edward Theuns, BikeExchange’s Luka Mezgec, and Total Energie’s Edvald Boasson Hagen all have a good pedigree in the Classics and sprinting especially from reduced bunches. Groupama’s Stefan Kung and EF’s Stefan Bissegger are both Swiss and both world class time-trialists. Movistar’s Imanol Erviti, Bora’s Nils Politt, and Arkea’s Connor Swift all have done well at the role of being their team’s GC leader’s guide and bodyguard on the flat days in addition to throwing down opportunist attacks across the flat. Lotto Soudal had two riders in this break: of Brent Van Moer’s attacking breakaway prowess across the flat and rolling nothing need be said beyond telling the listener to revisit Stage 4 of this Tour. This Lotto team’s Harry Sweeney was a bit more of an unknown quantity in this his neo-pro year, but going off his weight and statistics on ProCyclingStats he is a promising sprinter. Finally, the breakaway was rounded out by Quickstep’s Julian Alaphilippe the Musketeer, and Qhubeka’s Sergio Henao. These last two do not fit the burly big muscled and big powered description stated above. But Alaphilippe and the other showmen of this generation have shown the stereotypical specialized rider molds can be broken with a combination of the following: confidence in one’s vast Range of abilities, a love of dynamic and unbridled racing, and a daring amount of extreme ambition to take victory—hopefully—by any legal means possible. UAE did not have a desire or reason to keep things in check early on, but if they had—even with Quickstep’s help—they would have had a difficult time bringing this powerful breakaway back.

And this breakaway worked well together for the first two-thirds of the stage. Truly there is not much else to report until 50km to go. By 50km to go, the break had some sort of unassailable 14-minute lead on the peloton, and with threatening winds and the “light at the end of the tunnel” within metaphorical sight, it was time to begin the thrilling endgame. Bora’s Nils Politt kicked off the attacks. The next 15km would be an unaccountable series of attacks, chases, bridges, and regroupings. It was a dice roll for which attack would stick. Who could attack at what in hindsight would be identified as the perfect moment? Which strongest competitors would have just finished attacks or catches of their own and—even if just for that moment—did not have the strength to follow that most opportune move? A move that was opportune because the very strongest or the next strongest guys were not prepared to be the one to chase and lockdown that move as soon as it was attempted. It is the classic situation where the strongest guy does not always win, because in such a situation surely everyone will be instantly willing to mark the historically strongest riders—because if they get any sort of gap it will be nigh on impossible to get them back. This is where some truth is manifested about the superstitious Curse of the Rainbow Jersey. To win the Rainbow Jersey means you are a proven champion, if you are a proven champion you are naturally going to be marked out as one of the best men to be aware of. And when you wear the Rainbow Jersey…you stick out like a sore thumb. Thus through this 15km of ferocious series of attacks, not only was Julian Alpahilippe the Champion of the World marked every time he even put in half-a-dig, many of the others subconsciously put the burden on him to chase down many of the other attackers. Alaphilippe did his best, but of course even he is human and could not cover all the attacks. Finally, the elastic had to break and some one or a few had to get away.

Once again under the impetus of Nils Politt, with 35km to go, a group of four finally had a defined gap. The said Politt was here, riding for Bora whose Rockstar Peter Sagan did not start today citing knee problems from his crash with Lotto’s Caleb Ewan. Groupama’s Stefan Kung was in the move, what a great result this would be for the team if Kung could finally a nab the Tour win after he came so close in the Stage 5 Time Trial. Movistar’s veteran Imanol Erviti was here, and O! how that Spanish team could use a stage win. And the quartet was rounded out by the true young opportunist Harry Sweeney of Lotto Soudal, not yet on his hands and knees on Stage 12 of his first ever Grand Tour. In order to not let any of the chasers behind get back into the picture, these four immediately started rotating and working well together. While, inevitably, the chasers’ cohesion imploded as one or two of them would try to bridge across the gap solo, but to no avail because other chasers would try to latch onto them for a free ride. That is the strategy and tactics of it, should the 2nd group have good cohesion, perhaps with even rotations they could steadily eat into the leading four’s gap; but by this point some were on their last legs and only wanted to hitch a ride up, Brent Van Moer would not help to chase down Lotto teammate Sweeney up front, and even the strongest men like Alaphilippe could not bridge a 30-second gap by themselves or with only one or even two others. Thus within a few kilometers, the gap stabilized above 30 seconds and it seemed this leading quartet were the only ones still left with a chance to take the stage.

It was a fun finale to watch beyond the tactical racing itself. The gravitas of the Tour permeated this end game. Kung has been agonizingly close to Grand Tour stage wins before, but never taken one. Politt and Evriti rarely get totally free opportunities to ride for themselves. And Harry Sweeney is a neo-pro (a rookie for Americans) in uncharted territory and easily on the biggest stage he’s ever been on. Yes, whichever of these four men won: this—a Tour de France stage win—would be the biggest victory of their career…and we all had front row seating to watch it happen. Even if they never won anything ever again after today, their career would be completely made. For the rest of his life every July, he will be able to walk into a bar and see the Tour playing on some TV—even if it’s only in the corner—and he will be able to say to his companions, the bartender, and the strangers seated near him: “You see that race,” pointing to the TV showing the Tour, “I once won a stage of that greatest race in the world. I beat the best men in the world. That stage was a culmination of years of dedicated training and honed race-craft. It was one of the most seminal days of my life.” Then those near shall be thoroughly engrossed to hear his tale of the day he won a Tour stage while also watching another reach the same career zenith on the TV as well. The bartender shall give the rider a few drinks on the house, and everyone will go home happy at the end of the night having heard such an inspiring story. This is the power of the Tour de France, and that is best highlighted by stages like these where the fewer-star favorites seize their rare chance of glory.

Seeking this most hallowed win, on the quartet rode. Despite a minute gap on the chasers, and a 15-minute gap on the peloton, these four were giving it everything and flying: at this point the hard efforts were to find separation between themselves. The last big challenge they would have to face would be an uncategorized climb that began around 15km to go. The climb would be nothing compared to Mont Ventoux, and probably not even worth of a Category4 status; but raced so fiercely and at the end of this stage after 12 days of racing, it could be hard enough to catch someone out. And like clockwork the climb did catch out Stefan Kung. Alas! Alas! Only one man can win the stage though all four were so deserving. But on the other three rode, strengthen by the thought of one less rival to out ride or out fox. Steadily the three climbed in unison on the rising road, all equal matches for each other, all completely laying down the power and the most massive watts they could push. But with just under 12km to go, surely as the uncategorized climb was about to be finished, Nils Politt used his last bullet.

Nils Politt had been one of the big instigators kicking off the finale two or three dozen kilometers ago. He was one of the riders always towards the front making or following every move that went off. He was definitely one of—if not the—strongest in the break today. Using the aggressive strategy to go with everything, he had made the elite quartet. The climb and high pace found out Stefan Kung, and Politt then only had to get the better of Erviti and Sweeney. He could have waited to follow and mark their moves, even counterattacked, or worked to hold it together for a sprint. But in end—trusting to his powerful strength and flying form flaunted throughout the day—he opted to put all his eggs in one basket: launch one big attack that neither could follow and then hold the gap. No catting-and-mousing, the time for cagey and opportunistic tactics was over, Politt was ready to fire his last shot—spend his last bullet—to win this stage by pure power. And that is what he did. He used the last bits of uphill to find the separation, and on that slope neither Erviti nor Sweeney could even get out of the saddle to attempt to mark him. Then riding over the top his momentum built up on the downhill, he was fueled by the successful progress he was making, and he was single-mindedly focused on the achieving the greatest result of his career. Over the top Erviti and Sweeney could not put any dent into Politt’s growing advantage, and thus around 8-or-7km to go they knew the writing was on the wall—resigned to fight for second place. Politt would solo into Nimes alone and be able to soak in the cheers of the final-straight crowd as he won his first Tour de France stage. Congratulations, Nils, O! how you lived up to your first name so well today. Recently I was listening to the biography of the most famous star-voyager whose first name is from a similar etymological origin as yours. Yes, yes, the name Nils or Neil derives from a ubiquitous Northern European word meaning: Champion. Champion Politt today you surely were. You shall cherish the day forever, Nils, forget not a detail of the race. For surely on a July afternoon two decades from now when you walk into a bar where the Tour is playing, all shall be impressed to hear the story of your day of glory at the greatest race in the world.  

2021 TDF Stage 11: Double Vindication on the Double Ventoux Stage

Sorgues—Malaucene, 198km

Today’s stage served as confirmation that we are well and truly in the Second Golden Age of cycling as the peloton tackled the Giant of Provence not just once, but twice.

There is such history, legend, and myth surrounding this geographical anomaly. So much so, this Giant of Provence, this Mont Ventoux, has a character of its own. This slag-heap of limestone rocks has cultivated such a larger-than-life personality over the years, truly it could seamlessly be woven into J.R.R. Tolkien’s Middle-Earth. But were Aragorn to dare approach it and desire to navigate its innards, surely he know he would not find the hardy Dwarves of Durin’s Folk that live under the similarly majestic Lonely Mountain. No, beneath the Mont Ventoux is surely a refuge for a ghostly army, goblins, orcs, and demons. I dare conjecture with its white, bald, and barren menacing pinnacle: this Mont Ventoux was the real-world setting for that unforgettable nightmare Bald Mountain number at the end of Disney’s groundbreaking theatrical cartoon, Fantasia. ‘Tis an evil mountain, to be sure—perhaps the most menacing and evil in all of cycling. From the traditional Bedoin side, the gradient is steady and unrelenting—between 7-10% constantly—and the mountain shall show no sympathies for the rider’s agonizing struggles. There is little to nothing to boost a brave climber’s morale: there is no shade, it is always hot and even arid, and there are no switchbacks. Surely, endless switchbacks can become stale very quickly, but they do allow one to compartmentalize better and give an alternate landscape perspective. But here on the Ventoux, on the hot slow slog upwards amidst almost desert shrubbery, the unforgiving road has little weave to it; for the much of the climb the riders see exactly where they are going…and it is not going to get any easier—save the hundreds of meters past the solitary café stop at the Chalet Reynard 6km from the top. That last café marks the end of any sort of civilized safety and even life. From there, even the hostile shrubbery that looks perpetually parched completely ends. The top of Mont Ventoux is truly otherworldly; hence it is commonly referred to as the Moonscape. Nothing can live there, nothing would want to either. Yes, yes, here is where the bare white-rocked top begins properly, the top seen menacing mile upon mile in every direction all around it. There is even less of a prayer of any sort of shade, the gradients reach their steepest, and the winds kick up to extreme levels. For both better and worse, now the riders have the clearest view of what they are aiming for: a great industrial-looking observatory tower at the very top of the climb. There is no beauty to the building, and it fits perfectly with this evil climb. It reminds of an early 20th Century factory, but what need to be produced in this remotest and evilest of places? Cinderblocks? But sticking with the Moonscape theme—which is the most appropriate comparison—with the building’s white and red color pattern, it does hearken back to the images of an Apollo space shuttle sitting fully prepared and anxiously anticipating a launch from Cape Canaveral to the Moon. This is the Mont Ventoux, and for a century certain cyclists have audaciously dared scale it with the pioneering in-trepidation of Sir Edmund Hilary summiting Mt Everest.

And finally, in 1951 in the First Golden Age of cycling, the Tour de France scaled it for the first time. So many of the larger-than-life characters were present for this first scaling: Jean Robic and Raphael Geminiani among others for the French; Fausto Coppi, Gino Bartali, and Fiorenzo Magni for the Italians; that Tour’s winner Hugo Koblet for the Swiss; and Stan Ockers for the Belgians. But it was Lucien Lazarides that was the first to summit Ventoux that day, and it was Louison Bobet that won this stage that finished into Avignon. In 1958, Charly Gaul, the Angel of the Mountains, won a mountain time trial from its base to summit. Most infamously and sorrowfully, it was within a mile from the summit in 1967 that the great Tom Simpson suffered from a heart attack and died having pushed beyond his limit to stay competitive in the Tour. The video footage of Eddy Merckx riding solo to the top in 1970 is iconic, truly it looks to be filmed on the same grainy and horrible black-and-white camera the Apollo 11 crew used for landing on the Moon—in fact were the Moon Landing to have been faked, here on Ventoux would have been a great place to forge the footage. Raymond Poulidor has won to the top of this ferocious summit. Marco Pantani il Pirata and the controversial Texan’s duel to the top in 2000 is well remembered. And the scenes of Chris Froome running up the climb in the Yellow Jersey in 2016 was one of the most iconic Tour moments of the decade—for better or worse. That 2016 affair was a such cluster— from top to bottom, it was not until now—five years later—that Tour organizers even attempted to go up this most legendary French climb again. Mont Ventoux really is a shoe-in for that most legendary top-echelon of cycling climbs, in the same highest class with Alpe d’Huez, the Stelvio, the Tourmalet, and the Angliru. Thus, after a five-year absence, the Tour came back in force: for the first time in history, the Giant of Provence would be scaled twice in one stage.

With the character and history described, hopefully the myth and legend of the Ventoux starts to romantically conjure in your minds. At the very least, hopefully the gravitas of such a pinnacle has been imparted, and the stakes and glory of being the winner of a double-scaling can begin to be perceived. The fact that the first passage up Mont Ventoux was from the less traveled slightly-easier side, and after the second passage up the traditional Bedoin side there would still be a descent down to the bottom of the climb did little to lessen the significance of the stage. Many of the top riders of this generation wanted to get in the breakaway today if they were low enough on the General Classification to escape. But surely, on a stage of this magnitude, the peloton containing the GC favorites would want to keep them close so that they too would have a chance to win over this legendary climb.

And this is what transpired. It was warm day for racing, but not exceptionally hot for Ventoux standards—apparently, it was over 110 degrees Fahrenheit when Tom Simpson died—because there was significant cloud cover mistily shrouding the top of the evil mountain. Despite the clouds, there were at least a dozen casualties today that would drop out of the race. It was a very demanding day, all knew it would be, all tried to brave it, but at this high peak exactly halfway through this Tour, Mont Ventoux proved too much for some. Early on, a breakaway formed under the impetus of the showman all knew would be in it to win it, Quickstep’s Champion of the World Julian Alaphilippe the Musketeer. The breakaway was large, but the peloton rode them close. Interestingly, it was not Tadej Pogacar’s UAE team setting the pace on the front, but the Ineos Grenadiers surely in service of Richard Carapaz. Perhaps the Grenadiers wanted to keep the breakaway in check for a Carapaz win, more likely they wanted to shell out as many of Pogacar’s UAE teammates as quickly as they could to isolate this Young Beowulf who firmly wears the Yellow Jersey. Of the little historical data available on Pogacar, perhaps he does not love racing in the heat. As the large breakaway began the first passage up Ventoux from the Sault side, a more select breakaway formed. Julian Alaphilippe was once again the driving impetus; Trek-Segafredo was best represented with Frenchmen Julien Bernard and Kenny Elissonde, and fellow Dutch teammate Bauke Mollema would smoothly soon bridge up at the optimal time; BikeExchange had Luke “Turbo Durbo” Durbridge in the move; Alpecin had Xandrio Meurisse and Cofidis had Anthony Perez in the move; and would you believe it, after finishing second to Quickstep’s Cavendish yesterday in the full bunch sprint, The Swiss Army Knife of the peloton Wout Van Aert (Jumbo-Visma) was in this move as well. That first time up Ventoux, Alaphilippe was the most active, for he was taking quite a fancy in the King of the Mountains Points throughout this stage. The easier Sault-Ventoux route, merged with the traditional Bedoin route at the famous Chalet Reynard café right as the Moonscape began, thus that barren and hellish and otherworldly landscape would be traversed twice. The cloud cover was mysterious. Perhaps because they had just conquered the easier side or perhaps because they were not being scorched by the Sun, this breakaway seemed to be going at a very steady clip for this whole first passage up. Alaphilippe crested the top of Ventoux first for that first passage, and then the breakaway began the technical descent. This would be the same descent into the finish after the second passage, so it was helpful to get a good look at it before a presumable final faster and more crucial descent at the very end. 5 minutes later, the Ineos-led peloton containing Tadej Pogacar and all the other top GC favorites crested the climb as well and followed down the snaking descent.

The breakaway crossed the finish line in the town of Malaucene, right at the foot of the third route up the Mont Ventoux they had just descended. From there, the race skirted its way around the solitary Giant of Provence to the town of Bedoin where they could then make the second ascent of the day from the more traditional, most iconic approach. As stated, Trek-Segafredo outnumbered all the breakaway rivals, surely they had triple-circled this stage with a master plan to execute. Their three riders—Julien Bernard, Kenny Elissonde, and Bauke Mollema—were working very well together, which did not seem entirely a given when the breakaway was forming. Mollema has the best GC pedigree so he was on paper the most reliable performer for high mountains. But Kenny Elissonde is one of those small in stature riders born to be a climber, a French mountain goat if ever there was one. And Julien Bernard was the most wildcard of all in my opinion: for he is the son of Jean-Francois Bernard who won to the top of Mont Ventoux in 1987 while riding for the iconic La Vie Claire team. Should Bernard ever have the opportunity to have a free hand to ride solo and strike out on his own for renown glory and fame, I figured this would be the day. But, Bernard was the team player on the day, on the flat to Bedoin and up the lowest slopes, he emptied the tank for teammates Elissonde and Mollema. It was a great performance in service of his teammates, surely he was motivated around this Giant of Provence that is so significant to his prestigious cycling family. Cofidis’ Perez was already suffering or out the back by the time Bernard swung off job done. And as soon as Bernard pulled off in that classic full-stop nothing-left scene of selfless agony, the spritely Kenny Elissonde immediately went on the attack. Ah! It was excellent numerical planning from Trek, Elissonde would be off the front free to give it everything, while Mollema would sit back and let the others in the break chase Elissonde back. Should Elissonde be brought back or caught, Mollema would then immediately counterattack the group. Trek did not put a toe wrong…but on high mountain stages like these: you can have the best strategy in the world and still be bested by the strongest man on the day.

With Elissonde’s attack, the rest of the break immediately ratcheted up their pace as well. Instantly, Meurisse and Turbo Durbo rapidly faded from view. Thus on the lower slopes of the Ventoux, Julian Alaphilippe wearing the Rainbow Jersey and Wout Van Aert in the Belgian Dri-Color were hunting after Kenny Elissonde as his teammate Bauke Mollema stalked their every move. It was a three-way battle between excellent team execution from Trek-Segafredo vs one of our favorites, the top French showman Julian Alaphlippe the Musketeer vs another top showman, another one of our favorites, the only Mighty Ace left in the Tour Wout Van Aert fully proving why he is The Swiss Army Knife of the peloton. Speaking of the peloton, they were still some 4:30 behind, and with less than 15km of climbing left these four breakaway riders were liking to stay away over the top and down the final descent into the finish. Ah! Surely, based on how active he was, Alaphilippe was the on-paper favorite among the quartet: a winner of the Polka-Dot Jersey, significantly lighter than Van Aert and Mollema, and a Frenchman riding in the Rainbow Jersey on one of the most iconic climbs in the country and cycling. How Wout Van Aert was here was still fairly baffling to many, despite his proven versatility. Should people have earmarked certain stages for Wout Van Aert to win, he could have been considered a strong favorite for about 15 of the 21, and this Double Ventoux stage was definitely one of the 6 he was unsuited for. But we are in the Second Golden Age of cycling because the generational stars, the top showmen of the sport like this Wout Van Aert still surprise us. Yes, yes, it was Wout Van Aert that put in the stunning attack. He had been coy for much of the stage until now, only following, never attacking or ramping up the pace. He thoroughly dropped Alaphilippe and Mollema. They would struggle on, but they would not come back. Wout Van Aert The Swiss Army Knife of the Peloton would bridge incredibly quickly up to Elissonde. And after a couple of kilometers of Elissonde hanging onto his wheel, the 26kg-heavier Van Aert would put in another digging acceleration that would drop this spritely-but-spent Elissonde as well.

Yes, for the last 10km up Ventoux, we could simply marvel at our ease at the legend Wout Van Aert The Swiss Army Knife of the Peloton is becoming. Ah! I have been following him since 2015 as he was storming the cyclocross world. He was a special sight along with his archrival Mathieu Van Der Poel (Alpecin-Fenix). But even though they were retiring some of the greatest riders from a generation above them, still they just seemed promising talented studs. In our wildest dreams these two youngsters would leave cyclocross down-TO-the-road in a couple years’ time. There they would ride well in the Spring Classics—especially Strade, a windy and rainy Flanders, or a muddy Roubaix—and perhaps one day they could challenge the Rockstar Peter Sagan for the Green Points Jersey in July at the Tour. Seriously, that was the wildest extent we had dreamed for these two. Some five or six years since those first fairytale daydreams began: both have become The Mighty Aces and totally blown those expectations out of the water. Their victories have been so massive and electric, I have not the space to run through them, nor do I need to: you are all O! too familiar. But still, still today this one surprised us all: if there was a bridge too far for Wout Van Aert, O! surely it was Ventoux. Despite possibly being one of the heaviest riders in the peloton, still Wout Van Aert was up for this. Yes, yes, like I mentioned of Eddy Merckx yesterday: Wout Van Aert too is a jack-of-all-trades…a master-of-all-trades. This is exactly why he has The Swiss Army Knife title that is not a nickname, it is a prized belt to be passed on to the most deserving; but after today it is clear that still not even the Mighty Ace Renaissance Madman Mathieu Van Der Poel can rest that Swiss Army Knife title from his archrival yet. Wout Van Aert has unheralded Range, it is because riders like him, Van Der Poel, Alaphilippe, and even Roglic and Pogacar that I do believe the era of hyper-specialization in cycling is coming to an end. These riders’ strength and confidence lie in their vast range, success breeds success, they have 4 or 5 ways to beat the competition. The unpredictability and dynamism of that is incredibly fun not just for us, but for them as well. Wout Van Aert went toe-to-toe with Mark Cavendish in a pure sprint yesterday, now today he was the first over the top of Ventoux, tomorrow he might mix it up in another bunch sprint as well. Wout would descend down into the finish to take an emotional victory—having followed him for so long, I myself was almost emotional too. Wout knew the significance of the victory for all reasons rifted on in the Ventoux description at the beginning of this recap, he was absolutely right to be emotional.

With the Wout Van Aert victory the cycling world’s day was Made as usual—he is, after all, a keycard-carrying member of that Makes Our Day Club; but still Mont Ventoux threw us another curve ball. In the final kilometers on the Moonscape of the second passage up Ventoux, the Ineos Grenadiers did manage to shell out all of Tadej Pogacar’s teammates. The trade-off of course was that Ineo’s last GC leader left standing, Richard Carapaz the Jaguar of Tulcan, had only Michal Kwiatkowski left to set the pace and support. And when Kwiato finally swung off, tank utterly empty, it was not Carapaz that set the blistering attack for the final kilometers of Ventoux. To everyone’s surprise, Jumbo last GC leader left standing, the Dane Jonas Vingegaard, the last man selected for the Tour team to replace Tom Dumoulin, went on the attack wearing the White Jersey as Best Young Rider on loan from the mighty Young Beowulf Tadej Pogacar! Pogacar in Yellow was immediately on him, and Carapaz was still there too just barely following. But Vingegaard went again within seconds….and so powerful was his attack he successfully dropped Tadej Pogacar the Young Beowulf. Jonas Vingegaard found himself in 4th on GC to begin day, 5:32 down on Pogacar. He had led his own in the first week and especially through the Alps despite a couple crashes. Now with AG2R’s Ben O’Connor on an off day a few minutes behind, with all the other GC favorites unable to respond, and with even the mighty Tadej Pogacar on the ropes, Jonas Vingegaard was having the ride of his life—establishing himself as a great name in the sport and moving up on GC. Vingegaard went over the top of Ventoux over 30 seconds ahead of a clearly struggling Pogacar who was about to be caught by Carapaz the Jaguar and Rigoberto Uran (EF Education-Nippo). Unfortunately for Vingegaard, the descent did not play out his way. Perhaps too cautious, perhaps a facet of his game not up to snuff: Vingegaard was caught on the descent by the chasing trio all working together to limit the loss to a now apparent bona fide threatening top GC rival. The four would come across the line together a couple minutes after Wout Van Aert. Pogacar had maintained his GC gaps, but Jumbo-Visma can walk away with two victories today. The most Swiss-ly Army Knife victory of Van Aert’s career thus far, and upstart Vingegaard finding a chink in what was thought to be the impenetrable armor of Tadej Pogacar. Perhaps, Pogacar still has a complete handle on this Tour, perhaps he doesn’t. Time will tell. But in the meantime, should these riders, a part of this great Second Golden Age of cycling, continue producing compelling dramas like this every stage to Paris, then I cannot really say I care that the battle for Yellow is already wrapped up.  

2021 TDF Stage 10: Nostalgia and Fence Sitting

Albertville—Valence, 190km

The fairytale comeback and the decade-ago throwback continue. Surely all of us are loving the intoxicating nostalgia of it all. But should your cycling fandom be less than a decade old, allow me to preface this report by trying to inject back into you those 2008-to-2011 vibes so that you too can rewind with the rest of us. To a time when the last movie installments of the Harry Potter franchise were each internationally anticipated, but the moody vampires and werewolves of Twilight were angling for attention. All busted a gut laughing at Stepbrothers and The Hangover. Heath Ledger’s Joker thoroughly captivated and impressed in the Dark Knight that was the pinnacle of superhero movies. The water-cooler TV show was obviously Lost, but a couple new ones seemed promising like Modern Family and Breaking Bad…and for some reason Jersey Shore was also a “can’t miss” weekly event. Miley Cyrus mused about some sort of Party in the USA, and Taylor Swift was still a country music star. Every summer music festival was headlined by top rappers like Jay-Z and Kanye, and indie rock bands like Passion Pit and Florence + the Machine. Additionally, all knew the words to Coldplay’s Viva la Vida that was played every hour on the hour by every radio station. It was a time when the villainous Limewire infected and crashed every high schooler’s family Desktop PC. This was when people traded out their iPod Nanos for a new iPod Touch that they carried in their pocket alongside their flip phone—mine flipped in two different directions! Facebook reached its zenith: the exact moment was surely when it had legions upon legions of users—to the exact hour—harvesting their virtual crops on Farmville to buy virtual tractors for show. Swine Flu was the worst pandemic since Spanish Influenza. Obama was fresh in office, bin Laden was taken out, and Arnold Schwarzenegger was the Goven-ator of Cali-forn-ya. Usain Bolt and Michael Phelps were setting World Records in Beijing. The world discovered what vuvuzelas were at the 2010 World Cup in South Africa. And I was in high school running 50-to-60 miles a week to drop my two-mile time in Track and do my part for the team’s goal to qualify for State in Cross Country. Every July morning, I would get up just past dawn to knock out a 7-to-10-mile run. Upon finishing the run, I would plop down on the floor—because I was much too sweaty to sit on the sofa—and listen to Phil Liggett and Paul Sherwen tell me about every chateau and Gothic cathedral in France for hours on end. Yes, those summers were the glory days: where I would watch Fabian Cancellara slip into Yellow early. I would time the 15-minute increment to shower at what was most likely going to be the lull of the stage so that I would not miss seeing Andy and Frank Schleck doing battle with Alberto Contador and Cadel Evans. As I would quickly break from the action to water plants in the backyard at my dad’s insistence, I would muse about the fairytale run in Yellow Tommy Voeckler was having in 2011 before his Hectorian Fall. In my eyes, the skinny-as-a-rail Bradley Wiggins had the sharpest sideburns in the world. And I really did actually wonder if Andre Greipel was a Gorilla on the bike. But of course, all these generational riders were still dwarfed by one man. Yes, there was quite a good reason I originally thought mountain stages were “slow.” There was quite a good reason—beyond aestheticism—I so fondly cherish the newly-invented-HD picture-memories I have of the chateaus, land art, and sunflowers along the route of very flat stages beyond anything else from that era. It was because as I watched those flat stages the anticipation would build to see my original favorite rider win yet another bunch sprint off the back of the greatest lead-out train that ever was or shall be; a lead out train so organized and precise in its execution even the Navy Seals would drop their jaws.

Yes, this is all the nostalgia brought back to me, and perhaps many others, as we watch Quickstep’s Manx Missile Mark Cavendish take win after win this Tour, like he did of old in the days of yore just described. After much threatening and some late flirtation with crosswinds in the closing furiously fast kilometers of the stage, Deceuninck-Quickstep completely and utterly owned the finale to brilliantly lead out Mark Cavendish for his 3rd Stage win this Tour, the 33rd Tour de France stage win of his career. Truly, today most of all, this Quickstep Wolfpack looked their most reminiscent of that HTC-Highroad lead out train that led to so many of Cavendish’s victories I saw sitting in sweat every July morning so long ago. After his second stage win this Tour, I had declared that we were all back on Record Watch. Even more so today, the Cannibal Eddy Merckx’s record of 34 Tour stages is no longer at all safe. So let us have a conversation that was probably taking place a decade ago in 2011, finally now is the appropriate time to rehash it.

In 2011, with already 20 Tour stages wins and still years and years left in his career, and no decline to speak of on the horizon: Mark Cavendish seemed a shoe-in to break Eddy Merckx’s stage record eventually. With far less cycling knowledge back then, I was not privy to the conversations transpiring between the pros, journalists, pundits, and obsessed fans. But surely! Surely people must have been making comparisons about when Merckx and Cav tied for stages—and that day was assured to be soon—whose accomplishment would be more impressive? Eddy Merckx the Cannibal is the greatest cyclist of all time, he has won 5 Tours, 5 Giri, a Vuelta, 3 World Championships, 19 Monuments (multiple of all five), and every prestigious stage race and Classic of the era—save Paris-Tours which he was once in a position to win but he gifted it to a teammate. All that to say, Merckx is not only defined and known by the 34 Tour stage record. And yet it also cannot be denied that the 34 Tour stages is one of the more impressive and important records Merckx holds—it is much more than the random tougher-than-Final-Jeopardy trivia stat the broadcast’s resident stats nerd creates for an intruding on-screen graphic for the slowest moment of the game. The 34 stages help give credence to Merckx’s “Cannibal” nickname—he really did gobble up and devour every single race and stage he could. And to look at the type of win each of the 34 was shows the apex of versatility that shall never been seen again. Conversely, at what I think shall come to be scene as the apex of specialization in the sport of cycling, Mark Cavendish came along in 2008 to start threatening that 34 Tour stages record by exclusively winning full bunch sprints. So, I pose the question again: If or when they tie on 34, whose accomplishment is more impressive? So, in hopeful anticipation that that day shall come within the next fortnight, let us do our best steel-manning of both cases. To over-clarify, should Eddy Merckx lose the Tour stage record, that shall not mean Cav will eclipse him as the GOAT, the Greatest of All Time. We are simply comparing what is a more impressive feat: Merckx’s dominant versality or Cav’s dominatingly thorough specialization?

The elder, the defender, first. Eddy Merckx won his first stage of the Tour de France in 1969—actually he won his first 6 that year—and he took his last couple in 1975. So in the span of just 7 seven years—really 6 because he did not ride the Tour in 1973—Merckx won all 34 of his stages (not even including Team Time Trial victories). In both 1970 and 1974, Merckx won 8 stages in a single Tour, this feat is tied for a record. Are you starting to get the picture of this Cannibal’s dominance? A rudimentary breakdown of these 34 stages are: 16 Individual Time Trials and Prologues, 13 hilly or proper mountains, and 5 flat stage of which I gather 2 were full bunch sprints. That is a jack-of-all-trades…and master-of-all-trades. Those stats really do speak for themselves, there is very little any pundit can add onto that. The volume, by definition is there. It is the impressiveness of the Range that is the greatest factor in Merckx’s dominance.

Now to transition the case towards Cav’s favor by first playing a bit of a Devil’s Advocate with meager attempts to poke holes in Merckx’s impenetrable statistics. As stated, Merckx took all these wins in just 7 years. Of course it is impressive, of course he must have been the most dominating force of all time. But, uniquely, when up against Mark Cavendish, could winning all that in such a concentrated period not be a negative, but at least not a positive? Is Cavendish’s 13-year span of peaks and troughs a more impressive range of time? There were years where Cav took 6 stages, there were years he took 3, 2, or 1, but they still implied decade-long consistency. In fact, the case could be made that the dark years where Cavendish did not take a stage were all related to injury or illness. When Eddy Merckx “lost it”—that dominant mojo—he declined for 3 years and then retired. Meanwhile Cavendish had at least 1.5 major comebacks after a decline to beat a number of riders across and in multiple generations. Surely, the aspect of reinvention should at least slightly compare to Merckx’s impressive Range? A second Devil’s argument that may just end up being a compliment to Merckx. In all seriousness, was Merckx just too head-and-shoulders above the rest that this record is inflated, perhaps thanks to the era as well? If you look at the stage winners lists of the Tours Merckx competed in there were often well over 21 stages—half stages and a full hand of Time Trials were common. So potentially there were more opportunities for Merckx to win. Then the routes in that era were so much longer and harder (sometimes over 500-1000km longer than nowadays), did many of the stages—especially the Time Trials—just lend themselves to be won by the rider of the generation? And how comparable was the competition, was it just Merckx and five-or-six other generational riders of the era duking it out on all terrain, but beyond them even on their best day no one else in the peloton really had a shot to beat them? Could that actually be Mark Cavendish’s greatest strength? That in the greatest era of specialization, Mark Cavendish was blowing the greatest sprinting competition out of the water?

Though Cavendish’s 33 stage wins have all been bunch sprints, there was about as much variation to winning a bunch sprint as possible. They were anything from a perfect lead out by all 8 HTC teammates where he would win by 7 bike-lengths ahead of the nearest competition, to some where Cav would have to go gunslinging himself, wheel-surfing onto the next fastest man and come around to win in a bike-throw photo finish. With that said, to build up the positive best case for Mark Cavendish, I think it would just be most fun to see who he beat in these 33 Tour sprints. Here is a quick run down of the list, without repeating: Oscar Freire, Erik Zabel, Thor Hushovd, Gerald Ciolek, Jimmy Casper, Sebastien Chavanel, Gert Steegmans, Robbie McEwen, Romain Feiullu, Heinrich Haussler, Tyler Farrar, Cyril Lemoine, Samuel Dumoulin, Jerome Pineau, Greg Van Avermaet, Mark Renshaw, Edvald Boasson Hagen, JJ Rojas, Alessandro Petacchi, Julian Dean, Jurgen Roelandts, Philippe Gilbert, Tony Gallopin, Andre Greipel, Matt Goss, Peter Sagan, Luis Leon Sanchez, John Degenkolb, Alexander Kristoff, Arnaud Demare, Marcel Kittel, Edward Theuns, Christophe Laporte, Bryan Coquard, Dan McLay, Dylan Groenewegen, Nacer Bouhanni, Jasper Philipsen, Michael Matthews, Cees Bol, and Wout Van Aert today. And those are only the riders that finished within the Top 5 on the Tour stages he won. Cav probably put Robbie McEwen into retirement. Tyler Farrar and Andre Greipel combined could have won 15-to-20 stages between them if Cav was not there to out sprint them. Even Marcel Kittel who got the better of him in 2013 and 2015, Cav came back to beat multiple times in 2016. And now this year he is beating a new generation of sprinters. I am willing to bet, or perhaps this is where the debate really begins: the quality of the listed beaten riders by Cav is better than the quality of climbers, sprinters, and Time Trialists Eddy Merckx bested. And to quickly address the lead out argument, that Cav was only good because he had the best lead out. That I say fair point and correct, but I actually view it as a strength for his case. Because, first, he did not have a lights-out lead out for every win. Second, all the best sprinters in the history of the sport have had a great lead out…why? Because they win, and success breeds success. Find a replay of the last kilometers of this Stage 10 of the 2021 Tour de France and you will see how dominate Quickstep was today. Quickstep has historically been great at lead out trains for years now, but today was particularly good and that is entirely because the team have so much confidence in Mark Cavendish, the best sprinter in the world right now. In the heyday, the HTC Highroad lead out was so great, because they had some much confidence that Mark Cavendish could finish off the job. Cav’s dominance bred that confidence which bred superior team support, Cav had the best lead out in the world thanks to his own accomplishments.

Now, is that last point about confidence and success breeding success potentially extremely similar to Eddy Merckx’s dominant 7 year run where he took stage after stage? Perhaps Merckx buoyed by confident of past success had an easier time making the magic happen again. It’s an interesting conversation, and I love to have it. That is why I chose to do it now on the 33rd Stage, in case there never is a 34th Stage win for Cav. But I do think there will be, the fairytale magic of this all is too hard to deny. Thus, it will be on the 34th win—if it transpires—that I shall hop off the fence one way or the other, and decide which string of 34 Tour stage wins I think is actually a greater accomplishment.

Fair warning, keep that nostalgic preface in mind: it will not be possible for me to be unbiased.