When I originally sat down to decide which Vuelta stages I'd see, I was really torn between going to today's sign on in Bagá or finding a way up the Collada de la Gallina, a first category climb and summit finish. Bagá was an easy place to get to and I absolutely love getting to talk with the riders and collect autographs at sign ons. In the end I opted for the climb as I've only ever seen one climb before and that was a great experience. The problem was that since I'm carless (because I am that rare 32 year old who still doesn't know how to drive), I had no idea how I'd get up the mountain. After asking the woman at my hotel's front desk about 50 questions, I figured out how to catch a local bus to the base of the mountain and from there I walked.
For over 7 kilometers.
Up.
On a mountain with an average gradient of 8%.
The average gradient does not tell the whole story. There were plenty of sections that were steeper than a measly 8%.
Putting up the 6km to go banner.
At 5km to go. (These pictures make my walk go by way too fast. Let me remind you, dear reader, that not only was this a long, steep climb, it had been drizzling all morning and the clouds threatened to downpour.)
The village about 3 kilometers up the mountain was reminiscent of a perfectly orchestrated postcard scene: houses with rough stone exteriors, the tricolor Andorran flag hanging on every balcony, and a babbling stream running under an arched bridge.
The 4km banner was placed directly in someone's front yard.
Joaquim “Purito” Rodriguez, the Spaniard who came in third in this summer's Tour de France, apparently lives in Andorra and clearly enjoys enormous support here in “Purito territory.”
I've watched plenty of mountain stages on TV but it's only when you're on the mountain yourself can you actually appreciate how steep a climb truly is.
I like Purito enough but I was more excited to see support for my friend Juan Antonio Flecha!
The views were as rewarding as the mountain was punishing.
Support for Flecha and Sky's 2 Colombian climbers just ahead of the 3km to go mark.
Four of the switchbacks en route to the summit.
There were plenty of amateur cyclists making their way up the wet mountain in advance of the pros.
On my walk up, I kept my eyes peeled for good viewing spots. My aim was to be on a steep part of the climb where I had a good view of the riders approaching and where they would be suffering and in need of some (my!) encouragement. Anytime I paused to consider a location, I'd ask myself, “Is this the best place I can be to cheer like an idiot for Tyler Farrar?” I made it to the finish line, took a quick photo, and promptly turned around to go back to my ideal spot between the 3 and 2km to go banners.
By this point, the drizzle had transformed into a proper storm, complete with flashes of lighting and claps of thunder. Wouldn't you know it, the spot I'd picked out offered no shelter at all–trees would block my view after all–so I cowered under some nearby trees for awhile which offered token protection. However, with hours still to go, I was as soggy and cold as a piece of week old lettuce in the back of the fridge so I started to walk up and down the switchbacks to warm up and to reexamine the other locations I'd considered. Several kilometers later, I returned to my original spot, confident in my location and feeling much warmer (though no drier).
Since there was a steady stream of people riding their road and mountain bikes towards the finish, I took the opportunity to practice my cheering. At one point I spotted 3 women trekking up my corner. I spied a small maple leaf on one of them so I said, “Canada?” and the woman said, “Sí!” When I told her I'm also Canadian and that I was supporting Christian Meier, she responded, “He's my husband!” The women with Amber Meier were Ally Fairly and Lisa Busche, married to Caleb Fairly of Garmin and Matthew Busche of RadioShack, respectively. Before continuing their hike to the finish line, Amber kindly gave me some of Christian's rider cards and they were happy to meet a random fan who knew of all of their husbands (in fact, I met Caleb and Christian just yesterday).
There was still some time to go but the minutes flew by and suddenly I could see the race leader on the switchbacks below. I was surprised the caravan hasn't preceded the riders, but I didn't care! I could tell it was someone from Cannondale on a solo breakaway and a spectator with a radio had told me that Cannondale team leader Ivan Basso had abandoned, so I immediately suspected it was Daniele Ratto.
Sure enough, it was Ratto on his way to his first Grand Tour stage win.
A few minutes later, Vincenzo Nibali in the leader's jersey and Chris Horner in the King of the Mountains jersey made their way up the climb. They finished 2nd and 3rd, respectively. Nibali remained the race leader at the day's end but Horner lost his jersey to stage winner Ratto, only to pick up the white combined jersey from Nicholas Roche. Everyone around me was cheering only for Nibali and since Horner was just so nice yesterday, I out yelled the Nibali fans. If you check out the third picture, you'll see a big grin on Horner's face.
There was a small gap before Purito, 4th place finisher, and Sammy Sanchez, 5th place, appeared.
Thibaut Pinot would finish in 7th and Domenico Pozzovivo in 8th.
Alejandro Valverde was next but passed Pinot and Pozzovivo to come in 6th place.
Leopold Köning, winner of stage 8, finished 10th.
Croatian road champion Robert Kišerlovski was 19th.
Dani Moreno started the day in the green sprinter's jersey but would lose it to Valverde.
Nicholas Roche gritted his teeth as he rounded the steep corner.
Sergio Henao.
A group of 7 cyclists followed.
At this point, I put my camera away. I had done a good enough job of both cheering and taking pictures, but my camera tends to throw a tantrum and refuse to cooperate in unpleasant weather and, more importantly, I wanted to focus my attention on supporting the riders yet to come.
Alex Howes was the first Garmin rider of the day and his new mustache made him incredibly easy to pick out so I started jumping and yelling like crazy for him as he approached and rounded the corner. As he passed me, he turned his head to smile and said dryly, “Your enthusiasm is very much appreciated.”
Soon after, it was Flecha's turn. He's one of my favorites and a local favorite as well, so everyone cheered for him but I guess my voice must really carry because he recognized me as soon as he saw me and then he started to vigorously wave and smile at me.
Johan Vansummeren was the next Garmin rider, so I of course went into uber cheering mode. He smiled politely at me and I kept cheering. He smiled politely at me again and I kept cheering. Then he just had to laugh.
Alex Rasmussen was working hard and when I yelled for him, he responded by sticking his tongue out and comically panting.
The other spectators in my area clapped and blanketly said, “Venga!” to just about every rider who passed. Two guys had noticed my extreme reaction to the Garmin boys, so they got in the spirit and started to go wild for Garmin, too! Caleb Fairly was on the far side of the corner from me but he was right in front of the 2 newest Garmin cheerleaders, so I was happy that I had my bases covered.
Along the way, I made sure to give extra loud support for Matthew Busche and Christian Meier. It goes without saying that I cheered for my other favorites, including Fabian Cancellara, Rigoberto Urán, Winner Anacona, Zdenek Štybar, Gregory Rast and Tony Martin (those last 3 guys all gave me big appreciative smiles).
The final Garmin rider of the day was Tyler Farrar, the one I had in mind when I selected my cheering spot. He was smack in the middle of a big group so I did my best to yell at volume 11 to make sure he could hear me over the noise of so many bikes. It worked because he looked up at me before the corner with the biggest smile on his face, the kind typically reserved for toothpaste ads. He did have to look back at the road a couple of times to make sure he didn't crash into anyone as he climbed the steep turn, but his eyes hardly left mine and certainly that smile never left his face.
A few more riders passed before Kenny Elissonde, the last rider of the day to finish. I quickly counted several of my favorite riders I hadn't seen, including Nick Nuyens, Michel Kreder, and Lieuwe Westra, and figured they must have abandoned. Citing health reasons or the terrible conditions, over a dozen riders climber into their team cars along the 155 kilometers of the stage, in addition to those who did not start the day.
I started the long walk downhill, all the while cyclists were zooming down, having turned around after reaching the finish, to head to their team buses and warm showers. I was stoked to find this sign on a retaining wall which hadn't been up when I first climbed the mountain (the sign, not the retaining wall).
After stopping for a cup of tea to warm up a little, the bus took me back to my hotel where I caught the recap of Ratto's win and even saw myself in my bright red poncho from last month's Eneco Tour (the best freebie from ever acquired from a race caravan!).
So even though I have no doubt that I'd have enjoyed the sign on in Bagá this morning, I am so pleased that I instead spent the day standing in the rain and walking over 16 kilometers up and down a mountain to support the peloton.