Inside the Tour of California – Stage 1

By Bob | Permalink | 1 comment | February 19th, 2007 | Trackback

Today was a day to appreciate just how very hard it is to be a professional cyclist and just what great athletes professional cyclists are. For someone not riding on two wheels, the day began with a leisurely breakfast in San Francisco followed by an even more leisurely drive up into the Muir Woods, a 19 mile drive. We situated ourselves at the top of a Cat 4 climb where the tour’s first King of the Mountain points would be earned. Once again the weather was beyond perfect and on a President’s Day Monday a good sized crowd was on hand, including many who dared to make the climb on their own bikes.

The wait did not take long as the riders climbed the first extended climb of the tour in virtually no time. As they reached the summit it was heartening to see that even the best conditioned athletes in the world looked like they were suffering. The peloton was tight as it road through the old growth forest and over the crest on their way to the coast. It all happened so fast. For about 20 seconds all a roadside spectator could hear was the whir of bicycle wheels and all one could feel was the breeze created by the riders. It was spectacle to behold.

From there my companions and I followed the ride up the coast at our own pace which included numerous stops for photos and a couple of wine breaks. The coast north of San Francisco is splendid in every sense of the word. This time of year the mountains are green and the ocean blue. It must have been a pleasant ride for the riders even if they had to battle a strong headwind that nearly knocked me off my feet as I walked along the beach.

We eventually cut inland, passing through Petaluma and on to Santa Rosa. Entering the small city, we were immediately impressed by the number of spectators. In San Francisco there were estimates that 250,000-300,000 people watched the race. It never felt that crowded because the prologue was spread out. In Santa Rosa it felt like the crowd was enormous because the end of the ride is built around a few tight turns that the riders must contend with for three laps. The crowd was four and five deep with no shortage of people holding signs of encouragement for the local lad, Levi Leipheimer.

We took our position near a rail and watched on a big screen television as the riders entered the city. It didn’t take long before the peloton passed by us and it was literally like a blur. You can’t even begin to comprehend how fast the riders go until you see it in person. They are like human powered cars all formed in tight lines that look like an accident waiting to happen.

And one did. A huge one. We could only catch a glimpse of it on the big screen but we could hear the collective gasping from the crowd and the curses from the riders. It was a major pileup that caught nearly half the field including the hometown hero wearing the yellow jersey.

On the next lap around there were only 15 in a lead pack followed a half a minute later by riders with ripped shorts, bloody elbows and road rash covered legs. They looked less than pleased and more than relieved that the race was almost over.

The end saw a sprint to the finish and a win by an Aussie by the narrowest of margins. After four hours and 17 minutes and 20 seconds of pedaling, the riders could finally stop and rest up to do it all again. I was tired just chasing them around without even pedaling one stroke during the day.

We hung around for the winners’ presentation which included statues of Snoopy. None of the riders looked all the excited to be receiving a statue of a cartoon dog but they did look relieved not to be sporting spandex pants with gaping holes in the back and bloodstains on the front. It was not an easy day for the riders, but in this profession it was another day on the job.

Photo: Greg Weston

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