Giro stage 1 TTT

It was one of those days with a dozen moments that individually would have made my day complete, although there was one huge shadow later to come.

 

The roads were closed to traffic in the morning so the teams could prepare for the 22 km team time trial. When I arrived, the road was packed with school kids looking every which way and screaming their hearts out for every passing team.

 

Orica GreenEdge announced from the start they planned to win this stage so it was no surprise to see them on the course a few times.

 

Giant. Even Marcel Kittel took note of the excited kids.

 

Astana.

 

Katusha.

 

Garmin, my boys in blue.

 

Tinkoff Saxo got a huge reception, thanks to Nicholas Roche.

 

FDJ.

 

Belkin.

 

Movistar. Nairo Quintana far right.

 

BMC.

 

AG2R.

 

Sky.

 

Team Colombia.

 

Trek.

 

Lotto Belisiol.

 

In the afternoon, I headed to the site of last night’s team presentation, City Hall, to wait at the finish line. I thought I had spotted Sean Kelly riding the TTT course this morning, drafting behind the cars, and sure enough when I saw him a few hours later, he confirmed it was him. He was kind enough to give me an autograph. I turned to let him pose for photos and sign for half a dozen other people, so I was quite surprised when he then approached me and asked if we’d met at the Tour de France last year. Good memory! That’s indeed where I first met the legendary Irish rider, so we had a good chat.

 

The sky alternated between scorching sun and pellets of rain. The race was underway and the first 2 teams were nearly done with the course when the rain picked up again, soaking the roads. A few people scattered but I wasn’t going anywhere, especially since there was a big screen broadcasting the race directly across the street.

 

Team Colombia pulled off a mediocre performance but I don’t think much was expected of them tonight.

 

Meanwhile, Orica GreenEdge had lit up the roads with a blistering pace. Crossing the finish line, Svein Tuft’s tongue fell out of his mouth as if he had no energy left to shut his jaw and half the team hung their heads in exhaustion. They had left everything on the road and now they had to sit and wait for 20 more teams to cross the finish line before knowing if their efforts had been good enough.

 

Tinkoff Saxo.

 

FDJ.

 

Katusha.

 

Belfast’s Lord Mayor fit in with his pink poncho and pink hair.

 

I’d heard lots of people talking about how Movistar would challenge Orica for the TTT win, but I never considered them a threat and they proved not to be.

 

Lotto Belisol.

 

Trek.

 

Belkin.

 

Europcar.

 

Lampre.

 

With probably half of the teams either finished or on course, leaders Orica returned to City Hall to watch the rest of the race on a small screen and in front of half a dozen members of the media.

 

Sky.

 

Cannondale.

 

Giant.

 

AG2R.

 

Androni Giacattoli-Venezuela.

 

The only team I could handle beating Orica’s leading time of 24:42 was, of course, Garmin, yet their first time check didn’t reveal any indication that they could touch Orica.

 

And then disaster struck.

 

On the big screen, I watched helplessly as Garmin, riding in a long line of 9 cyclists, tumbled like building blocks. It looked like the sixth rider went down, whether he touched wheels or hit something on the ground, and then 3 riders after him could do nothing but crash like dominoes at upwards of 50 kph.

 

Carnage.

 

Bikes and riders lay scattered about the road as aerial shots showed the 5 riders still standing circling back to see what had happened. And while there is never a rider you’d want to see in pain on the road, it was sickening to realize Dan Martin was one of those riders. He has been in such great form and was so optimistic and excited for the Giro despite suffering that recent crash at Liege Bastogne Liege when he was quite likely on his way to the podium.

 

No.

 

Unidentified riders with shredded kits cradling their elbows, the hallmark of a dreaded broken collarbone.

 

Oh no.

 

And to think how Dan Martin had crashed out of the Vuelta a España this past year during the race’s TTT opening stage and to see it happening again.

 

Please no.

 

I wanted to cry.

 

The merciless clock kept ticking.

 

A handful of shocked Garmin riders crossed the finish line together, receiving the loudest applause of the entire night.

 

I didn’t know what to feel. A huge part of me was on cloud 9, hoping that Orica would pull off the win, landing my countryman and friend Svein Tuft in the coveted pink jersey on his birthday. An equal part of me was stunned at Garmin’s crash, worried and desperate to learn the consequences of the devastating accident.

 

And yet the race carried on.

 

Bardiani CSF.

 

BMC were riding well, but were still several seconds off Orica.

 

Omega Pharma-Quick Step.

 

With just 2 teams remaining on the course, neither had a chance at beating Orica’s standard so I ran and ran and ran to grab a spot in front of the stage where Svein and his teammates would soon be declared the winners of both the stage and maglia rosa. I was about 5 rows back from the stage and getting my flag ready to wave when the man next to me started a conversation. I mentioned that Svein is a friend and, after his jaw had dropped, he gave me a friendly shove and insisted that I push my way closer to the stage.

 

I navigated through dozens of people, apologizing and explaining that I wanted to see my friend receive the pink jersey on his birthday. Half of them gave me funny looks that said, “Yeah, right, lady, sure you’re friends with this guy, uh-huh.”

 

The rain clouds rolled in as the pink flood lights on City Hall switched on.

 

And then–the 9 teammates of Orica GreenEdge took the stage! Svein was presented with a bouquet of flowers…

 

…and everyone received a bottle of champagne. I’ve come to really enjoy seeing the inevitably awkward scene when the podium tries to majestically and impressively pop the cork. It almost never turns out that way. It tends to look more like this.

 

But what a celebration once they got those corks off! Pink confetti exploded through the air as they sprayed each other with champagne and dumped it over Svein like he was a victorious college football coach. To hear so many grown men giggle like that is a rare treat.

 

Class act, Orica.

 

Time for the pink jersey to be presented!

 

This whole time, I had been waving my flag, clanging my cowbell, and shouting with joy, which explains why so many of my podium photos were uncharacteristically out of focus.

 

I did manage to capture one particularly special moment, but let me preface it.

 

As usual, I wasn’t sure if he’d seen me since he tends to be a low key guy, but just as I took this photo, I realized Svein was gesturing that he was going to throw me his bouquet.

 

There are a lot of riders I call my friends. Today I realized that Svein calls me his friend, too.

 

Luke Durbridge earned the white jersey as the best young rider and the entire team came on stage one last time.

 

Svein and Luke, in the tent somewhere beind all the cameras.

 

Fans cheered as the Orica bus pulled away.

 

Me and my maglia rosa flowers, a gift from my friend on his birthday. Thanks, Svein.