Biased Blow-By-Blow - 2025 Critérium du Dauphiné Stage 7

Introduction

Bicycle road racing has gotten harder to watch. Part of this is due to the poor TV (or shall I say Internet) coverage in the U.S., with various pay-for-me networks, each carrying only a few races. But the bigger problem is boredom: a few riders are so dominant, the victories tend to be blowouts. Particularly troublesome is Tadej Pogacar (UAE Team Emirates XRG), who seems to win everything in sight: stage races, classics, the World Championships … he wins all season long and he makes it look easy. Thus it is with great trepidation that I cover today’s queen stage of the Critérium du Dauphiné. I promise I will do my best to make this entertaining, even if that means bagging on riders I don’t like, and on their equipment, and even on myself if necessary. Hence the “biased” blow-by-blow.

(If you haven’t been following this Dauphiné thus far, fear not: I will recap the first six stages as well.)

Critérium du Dauphiné Stage 7 - Grand-Aigueblanche - Valmeinier 1800

As I join the action, it’s 5:40 a.m. Pacific time and my kettle hasn’t even boiled yet. The riders are cresting the Hors Categorie Col de la Croix de Fer. There’s a breakaway with only about 20 seconds over a depleted peloton. I’m not going to bother with the riders’ names other than a couple standouts: Sepp Kuss (Team Visma - Lease A Bike) and the French favorite Romain Bardet (Team Picnic PostNL). Kuss is American, so I naturally favor him, plus today is Flag Day in this country (so I hope you hoisted Old Glory!). Bardet, meanwhile, is in the last bike race of his career, obviously looking for a stage win to go out on a high note. For more on Bardet, including his saliva, click here. What, what? Saliva? Yes! As Google’s AI Overview helpfully explains, albertnet “includes observations on other aspects of races, such as rider’s saliva issues and podium presentations.”

Speaking of AI, here’s a fascinating hallucination. While watching the time trial a couple days ago I thought I saw last year’s Dauphiné winner Primoz Roglic (Red Bull - Bora - Hansgrohe), but only fleetingly. I checked the results later and didn’t see him listed. So I asked Google if he dropped out. Here’s what the AI Overview had to say:

What’s remarkable is that Roglic didn’t even start the race, as he’s still recovering from injuries he sustained in the Giro d’Italia. It’s also worth pointing out that nobody has won the overall 2025 Dauphiné classification because the race doesn’t end until tomorrow. Granted, it would be permissible for AI to declare that Pogacar has already won, since nobody can stop him, but Roglic? No. He has about as much chance of winning this race as I do.

The Peacock coverage today started too late for me to see these guys go over the first two climbs, starting with the Hors Categorie Col de la Madeleine. “Hors Categorie” is French for “Whore’s Category,” which means the climb is a total bitch. Naw, just messin’ with ya. It’s “beyond category” meaning, “This climb is so hard, there is no way to categorize it. The human mind cannot conceive of a category like ‘hardest’ or ‘even harder than what we’d normally call hardest.’ Words fail us.”

The great thing about the Col de la Madeleine is that, in accordance with the strong tradition and culture of the sport, the riders ride up it in two straight lines. Hmmm. I think it’s too early in the morning and I’m confusing this race with the children’s book about the little French girl who gets her appendix out. I apologize.

But seriously, these climbs are horrific. I’m not just relating what the commentators are saying (because after all, they could totally exaggerate). I am speaking from experience, having ridden both of these climbs myself, also back-to-back, the year before last. You can read about that here. Suffice to say the Madeleine kicked my ass. And, in a crazy coincidence, so did the Croix de Fer. They’re just brutal. In fact I think I still haven’t recovered. You should probably click that link and read that instead because today’s race will probably be boring.

Can you tell there’s nothing to report right now? It’s just a long-ass descent (with a couple short climbs) before the Whore’s Category Valmeinier 1800, a climb about which I know basically nothing except that it’s 16.5 kilometers (10.25 miles) long at an average grade of 6.7%. So it’s gonna be a smackdown.

The breakaway is stretching out its lead a bit on the fairly straightforward descent toward Saint Jean de Maurienne, a town notable mainly for its excellent pizza. At least, that’s what I remember it for.

Now Bardet has dropped the rest of the breakaway. The peloton will hang him out to dry for a good while before wadding him up in a ball and tossing him halfheartedly toward the wastebasket.

Here’s what’s been going on so far in this Dauphiné. The first stage, designed for the sprinters, was actually kind of exciting because Pogacar and the other GC favorite, Jonas Vingegaard (Team Visma - Lease A Bike) were in a small breakaway with a very narrow lead heading into the final kilometer. It looked like the break would ultimately get caught but it just barely held on, to where its slower finishers were actually passed by the fastest sprinters of the peloton. One rider burst out of the mêlée, and at first I couldn’t tell who it was, but it ended up being—Pogacar. Huh? A stage racer launching a hellacious sprint and beating out big strong rolleurs like Mathieu Van Der Poel (Alpecin-Deceuninck) and Remco Evenepoel (Soudal Quick-Step)? Yep. To put this in perspective (if you’re not a diehard cycling fan), this would be like if for some reason a football team sent its quarterback out to kick a 65-yard field goal and he nailed it.

Anyhow, some bike racer won Stage 2, who cares who won Stage 3, and then in the time trial Evenepoel, the Olympic time trial and road race gold medalist, stunned everybody with a big win. His helmet had this really goofy visor that covered everything except what was right in front of him, where there was this big gap, so it was like an anti-visor. So many of the time trial helmets were so ugly, it just overshadowed everything else and made me want to curl up in a corner and try to sleep it off. But the good news was, Vingegaard took 28 seconds out of Pogacar in the TT, giving us viewers hope that maybe he’d have a chance in the GC.

Stage 5 was another for the sprinters and a sprinter won, some guy named Stewart. It was only in Stage 6 that things got insanely boring, with Pogacar absolutely destroying everybody. He dropped Vingegaard (and everyone else) without even getting out of the saddle. It was demoralizing to watch: you’ve got Vingegaard, a two-time Tour de France winner, out of the saddle thrashing like he’s in a final sprint, and Pogacar looks like some bored commuter on an e-bike pulling away from him. Pogi took just over a minute out of his so-called rival on a mere Category 2 climb that wasn’t even two miles long. So today is really unnecessary, like that soft-serve cone you unwisely decided to eat, for reasons you cannot yourself understand, at the end of your thorough drubbing at the hands of the Sizzler buffet court.

They’re interviewing Evenepoel, who got shelled yesterday and lost his yellow jersey.

INTERVIEWER: You got shelled yesterday and lost the yellow jersey. How does that feel?

EVENEPOEL: Well, I wasn’t going as hard on that climb as I had in the time trial, so that was a mistake.

INTERVIEWER: Are you actually telling me you forgot to hammer?

EVENEPOEL: I am using this race to learn and to study the values and the team is [undecipherable].

INTERVIEWER: Well that’s just bullshit. But before we discuss how badly you blew it yesterday, I want to back up a bit and talk about your Olympic road race victory where you crossed the finish line, stopped, climbed off your bike, and stood there at line, flexing because you were far enough ahead to do this, except what if you weren’t and caused a massive crash among those sprinting in for second as they tried to steer around you?

INTERVIEWER: And then, still standing on the finish line like an idiot, you pantomimed hanging up a phone, almost like slamming it down. Totally over the top and it doesn’t even really make sense. Who were you angrily hanging up on? And do you expect young fans, who’ve never even seen a landline phone, to understand what you were miming?

EVENEPOEL: You’re kind of hurting my feelings.

INTERVIEWER: Oh, I’m just getting started! I haven’t even asked about those giant goofy sunglasses you’re wearing! What the hell are those about?

EVENEPOEL: I have to go.

I have to confess, Evenepoel’s interview was so boring, I had to freestyle a bit there. Most of what you just read is pure fabrication. Evenepoel really did say, though, that he “wasn’t going as hard on that climb as [he] had in the time trial, so that was a mistake.” He makes it sound like a tactical decision, but I saw what really happened … dude got shellacked.

Bardet is still solo but his lead is coming down. There’s really no way he can stay off. The descent is simply too long. Now he’s starting the final climb but has only 40 seconds or so on the GC group.

I left for a while and now I’m back. With 12 kilometers to go, the GC group is on the final climb and Pavel Sivakov (UAE Team Emirates XRG) is drilling it on the front, setting up his leader, Pogacar.

As they overhaul Kuss, who I guess must have attacked at some point when I wasn’t looking, Sivakov pulls off, clearly blown.

And now, of course, Pogacar attacks. Oh my. This is blistering. But Vingegaard was ready for this and is right on the wheel!

It’s a crazy attack! Florian Lipowitz (Red Bull - Bora - Hansgrohe), the German rider in the white jersey of Best Young Rider, who was third yesterday, is immediately gapped!

Can Vingegaard respond? No. Of course not. Nobody could. Look at this gap open up. It’s like an adult beating up a little kid. The peloton, of course, is shattered.

Evenepoel is off the back. I guess he’s “not going as hard as in the time trial” again. That is, he’s just not trying. And I can’t blame him. I mean, why try when Pogacar is taking all his marbles and going home, again?

Pogacar fiddles with his bike computer. Maybe he’s bored, or has realized he might set some sort of PR today for power output or something. Behind, Lipowitz has clawed his way back to Vingegaard. He’s having an amazing Dauphiné, sitting in third on GC after yesterday’s awesome ride.

Vingegaard flicks his elbow for Lipowitz to take a pull. Lipowitz doesn’t come forward. He probably can’t due to being on the rivet already.

I will say that Vingegaard is holding the gap down fairly well. He’s a fighter, for sure. But of course he needed to attack Pogacar today, not the other way around.

As Vingegaard buries himself, Lipowitz gradually comes unglued from his wheel.

With just over 9 kilometers to go, Pogacar is only 14 seconds behind Bardet, whose ride will be a footnote at best to this stage.

Oh, wait, my bad. While I wasn’t looking, Bardet was already overhauled. The 14 seconds is over Vingegaard, and I don’t think it’s accurate. He seems a lot farther back than that.

My online correspondent says, “😴😴😴.” I see his point.

I feel really bad for these professional commentators. I mean, I share their struggle to describe this race in an interesting way, but I’m just a rank amateur—my livelihood isn’t at stake. And at least I get to make shit up if I want.

And now Pogacar falters! He slumps over the handlebars, his bike careening this way and that! I don’t understand what I’m seeing! Oh, wow, you’re not gonna believe this, but Pogacar has actually fallen asleep while riding because this is even more boring for him than for us! Yeah, okay, I confess, I’m lying right now. Disregard this entire paragraph.

Pogacar does look bored, though. His official gap is now 20 seconds, though the essential gap—that being between a cyborg and a human—is insurmountable. He looks over his shoulder. Note his expression. He’s not worried in the slightest that Vingegaard is making any ground. He’s just curious. “I wonder what’s going on back there in that different galaxy. Maybe Jonas is actually bearing down on me and I get to attack again. That would be fun. Nope … can’t even see him.”

Bob Roll, one of the Peacock commentators, is talking about the beautiful little village at the top of this climb. That’s probably where he should focus his commentary. Let’s go inside one of those cute little cafés! Let’s interview the proprietor!

Lipowitz has lost 25 seconds to Vingegaard so far. Like you care. Like Vingegaard cares. Like Lipowitz cares.

Vingegaard gives another flick of the elbow. Is he hallucinating that somebody is still with him? No, probably just a tic, or a minor muscle spasm. It’s what passes for news on a day like this.

Do you think Team Visma - Lease A Bike has a big enough budget to hire some thugs to kidnap Pogacar before the Tour? Maybe they could hire some real dumbasses on the cheap, who screw it up in various ways, such that high jinks ensue. Or maybe Visma could hire a sexy actress to come on to Pogacar, a femme fatale, like Nancy was to Sid Vicious, who could derail Pogacar’s training? This is what has become of our sport ... leading me to fantasize. I can’t believe I paid for Peacock Plus in advance so I could watch the Tour next month. Maybe I’ll see what other programs Peacock Plus might have that would be more interesting, like NASCAR maybe, or old episodes of “The Office.”

Vingegaard, despite being off the back, is big-ringing it up this 7% grade. In any other era he would still be a champion. And actually he’s doing really well at keeping this gap down, which would be more useful if he didn’t start the day 43 seconds behind already.

The commentator Christian Vande Velde speculates that Pogacar isn’t even going all-out. It sure doesn’t look like it; his expression is the same as mine when I’m reading the paper or doing the Wordle. I’ll bet I could beat Pogacar at Wordle. Maybe Vingegaard could as well. They should just cancel the Tour and set up three weeks of puzzles.

What was Pogacar looking back at earlier? He had to know his lead was almost half a minute. Did he see some kind of interesting animal? A pika, maybe? Pogacar is an animal himself of course, but not an interesting one. Actually, I just did some light research (with nothing better to do this close to the end of the Dauphiné’s queen stage) and it turns out there are no pikas in the French Alps. The animal that Pogacar may be looking at (but let’s be honest, probably isn’t) is (or would be) a marmot.

Blah blah blah Pogacar has only one kilometer to go, who cares, la la la. He looks even more bored than I feel.

Pogacar wins again, and he’s pioneering a new victory salute, looks like. Is he miming something? Playing a banjo? Shooting a rifle? Or scratching his armpit like chimps are purported to do?

Vingegaard heads for the line. He looks really bad.

As he crosses the line he looks like he may actually collapse.

The phone rings. My mother-in-law is calling. Normally, when I’m watching a live sporting event, I would let the call go to voicemail, but whatever she has to say will be more scintillating than this. I won’t share any of her tidings here ... why steal my own thunder?

Lipowitz comes across 1:21 behind Pogacar. He looks absolutely miserable. He’s questioning his life choices, surely. But he’ll be happy later, I think ... with this ride he has solidified his podium position on GC, and he’s only 25 and it’s his first Dauphiné. He has a bright future ahead (if he can be content with second place at best).

Evenepoel lost another 2:39 to Pogacar today, 2:25 to Vingegaard, and 1:28 to Lipowitz. Hang up on that fool, he’s done.

What expression is Vingegaard wearing here? It looks kind of obscene, actually. But I like his sunglasses. They don’t cover up half his face like so many modern styles do.

Pogacar is being interviewed.

INTERVIEWER: You must be unhappy because you didn’t get to the finish in time to see [unintelligible].

POGACAR: Yeah, that sucks.

INTERVIEWER: Do you like my shirt? I got it at a thrift store.

POGACAR: Today we wanted to take control. Visma tried with all their tricks. I am happy with how I rode. Sort of defense today. I launched it and maintained a good pace.

INTERVIEWER: You never worried even though you were outnumbered?

POGACAR: Toward the top of Croix de Fer I think they wanted to drop me on the downhill. I did not like that but it’s modern cycling. And then we were in control again.

INTERVIEWER: I though “modern cycling” consisted of a rider being so totally superior to the others, he just makes a mockery of the race, and the sport.

POGACAR: Jonas was pretty strong but I also didn’t want to go too deep  myself. I was lucky I had enough time to ease up in the last few meters.

INTERVIEWER: Your eyelid keeps twitching. I think that means you’re lying. Do you want to come clean?

POGACAR: Fine. I admit it. I stole the bus money.

Let’s play a game. You try to guess which part of that interview was legit, and I’ll tell you if you’re right. Ready? Go. Okay, the answer is, Pogacar really did say, “Yeah, that sucks,” “I was lucky I had enough time to ease up in the last few meters,” “it’s modern cycling,” and “Visma tried with all their tricks.” That last bit sounds like something out of a Dr. Seuss book.

Bardet is nearing the line, over 12 minutes down. The cameraman pans over to Bardet’s father watching from the sidelines and looking pretty pissed off, honestly.

Bardet’s dad will have strong words for his son, I’m sure. “It’s Father’s Day tomorrow ... is this what you call a gift? I bought you your first bicycle! I drove you to all those races! I came all the way out here to watch you today ... and this is the best you can do? Your mother and I are very disappointed.” Bardet will retort, “At least I don’t wear cycling sunglasses when I’m not cycling. You dork.”

The commentators keep talking about how Pogacar was loafing in the last kilometer or two. How boring is this sport when the guy who solos to victory doesn’t even have to ride hard? This is like Mike Tyson pummeling a smurf. Which I’d actually really prefer to watch, to be honest. I would buy Peacock Plus for that. I wonder if I can get a refund?

My online correspondent declares, “The scenery is always good but super boring racing ... it’s like watching some Cat 3 race.” Hear, hear.

Pogacar mounts the podium to celebrate his stage win. The sport, which had eschewed podium girls entirely, is gradually bringing them back. Today we get only one, offset by an old white guy just to make sure the ceremony isn’t too pleasant.

Pogacar looks pretty baked, actually.

Whereas top professional cyclists used to have to specialize, Pogacar actually leads almost all the competitions: maillot jaune (GC), maillot pois (mountains), and maillot vert (sprints). The only one he couldn’t nab is the maillot blanc (young rider). So really, the only thing I have in common with Pogacar is that neither of us can deny the march of time … we both age. But he’s a mere 26 years old and (weirdly enough) went through puberty just a couple years ago, so he’ll have many years ahead to rack up the most distinguished palmarès in the history of cycling.

Here is Pogacar getting his green jersey. Look at his eyes. He really does seem stoned. Perhaps after the race he took some hits off a big ol’ stinky bong. Maybe that’s his secret?

Now he gets the polka-dot jersey. Climbing the steps to the podium is probably more work for him than dominating the stage today. Look at him. He’s struggling to keep his eyes open.

Lipowitz gets his white jersey. Man, he looks wasted, too! Was he pulling tubes with Pogacar right after the stage ended?

One more rider gets to mount the podium: Bardet, for the the Combative award. Some little kid is there and hands Bardet ... what? It looks like a toy skunk. Let’s assume it’s that. “Here is a skunk because you stink,” the kid may be saying.

And now Bardet’s dad has joined him on the podium. It looks like he’s about to whisper something in his son’s ear. “You suck,” perhaps.

Tomorrow has six categorized climbs, but it’s clear that Pogacar has the GC in the bag. That goes for the Tour, too. Even so, you should check back in July for my Tour de France coverage … because you never know, something interesting might happen with a rider’s saliva.

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Biased Blow-By-Blow - 2021 Vuelta a España Stage 18

Introduction

Why is it that when the governing body of a sport, in this case cycling’s UCI, decides to allow widespread fraud, the media have to nevertheless adhere to the highest standards of journalistic integrity? When the UCI—apparently seeking to avoid embarrassment over their sport still being filthy—cleared Chris Froome after his positive drug test, journalists should have talked all kinds of smack and started throwing popcorn at the screen. Instead, they just keep biting their tongues. Well not me. Rest assured, I pull no punches in my blow-by-blow reporting and may even throw punches randomly if that enhances your experience. So read on for all the action in the final mountain stage of this very gripping Vuelta a España.

Vuelta a España Stage 18 – Salas to Alto del Gamoniteiro

As I join the action, one of the announcers, Anthony, is talking about the Church of San Pedro. He’s saying something about its nave. This is where having two announcers can be so powerful: the co-announcer, Hannah, should say here, “You seem to know a lot about churches … perhaps you could explain to me something I’ve always wondered about, which is: does the nave truly extend from the transepts to the chancel? I always thought it did but my mother insisted that that’s only true for the basilica-type buildings.” Then Anthony would have to admit that, though he did a great job of sounding conversational just now, he was reading right off the prompt sheet and actually has no idea what a nave is. Unfortunately, Hannah is as wary of being discovered a fraud as he is, so she just nods knowingly, which we can’t even hear.

There’s a sprint for points. Two riders from a rather large breakaway contest it. Wow, nobody else wants it but these guys are really throwing down. I’m reminded the two drunks at a wedding who actually try their damnedest to catch the bride’s thrown garter, while the rest of the guys kind of recede to the back of the room. Will these two feel embarrassed later?

Looks like Jens Keukeleire (EF Education-Nippo) took the points over Stan Dewulf (AG2R Citroën Team).

The riders are starting the second big climb of the day, the Category 1 Alto de la Cobertoria. I don’t know who all is in this breakaway, but presumably no GC hopefuls since nobody is chasing very hard.

I don’t know how this is a Cat 1 climb. It’s neither long nor steep that I can see. Easy for me to say, of course. Now, as cold as it looks in these photos, Hannah is saying it’s 20 degrees out. Celsius, of course, which like all metric units is useless. I absolutely hate it when somebody gives me the temperature in Celsius. Oh geez, I always think, now I have to do that cumbersome conversion. It’s barely worth it, but fine, here you go: it’s 68 degrees. Why did I even compute that? It’s not that hot, I don’t care if it’s 85% humidity.

A rider attacks from the breakaway: it’s Michael Storer (Team DSM), who has won two stages of this Vuelta already.

He’s looking for KOM points (having taken the last climb already). And look, he’s got them!

As the break begins the descent I’ll fill you in on what’s happened in this race since my Stage 14 report. In Stage 15, Rafal Majka (UAE Team Emirates) soloed but the GC didn’t change. Stage 16 was a flat(-ish) sprinters’ stage, and for the third time in this Vuelta Fabio Jakobsen (Deceuninck-QuickStep) won handily (making the announcers look silly because all they could talk about in the run-up to the sprint was Arnaud Démare, widely considered a top contender for these flat stages but for no good reason because he sucks and finished 16th). And then yesterday, well, that was an amazing stage. I’ll tell you all about it in a minute.

The peloton is over the summit. Anthony is talking about how difficult the rest of this race will be, especially given “how cold it is.” You see how confused people get when they have to use Celsius? (Or does he just like to contradict his co-commentator?)

Anthony would tell you this rider, Damiano Caruso (Bahrain-Victorious) is getting ready to stuff newspaper into his jersey for warmth during the descent. Good guess, but it’s actually not accurate. Caruso is such a good descender, he sometimes gets bored and likes to sit up and leaf through the paper.

Storer wasn’t just looking for KOM points but looks to have ambitions for the stage. He’s descending aggressively and now has over a minute. Meanwhile, he’s now the virtual KOM over his teammate Romain Bardet, winner of Stage 14.

As Storer rounds a curve, Anthony-the-commentator does this thing where, in an earnest attempt to not dominate the mic and talk over Hannah (which he still does whenever things heat up), he asks her a question that of course he knows the answer to, as if throwing her a bone. “Hannah, why is Storer hanging his leg out like that?” he asks. Hannah, perceiving his condescending tone, snarls back, “He’s sticking his leg out like a dog pissing, marking his territory as is typical of all males of every species.” Anthony gently corrects her, mansplaining that Storer is actually doing this in lieu of braking, hanging his knee out there like a sail to catch the wind. This is of course completely untrue. In fact Storer is airing out his balls, which Anthony needs to go do privately now, and I hope he doesn’t come back until he’s cooled off a bit.

Returning to my recap, Stage 17 was epic. It was raining on and off all day, and the riders went twice over a Cat 1 climb and finished on an HC. The race leader, Odd Christian Eiking (Intermarché-Wanty-Gobert Matériaux), went out the back pretty early, weighed down by all the ink in his jersey required to spell out his team’s name. Egan Bernal (Ineos Grenadiers) totally attacked on the penultimate climb, dusting everybody except race favorite Primoz Roglic (Team Jumbo-Visma) who latched right on. Bernal led all the way over the climb. They had a minute lead at the summit, which they doubled on the gnarly, wet descent where Roglic started taking turns at the front. Eiking totally stacked and though he got back up, he went on to lose lots of time and also his red jersey. On the final climb, Roglic rode away from Bernal and soloed to a stage win and the GC lead. Bernal was caught by the GC group, which had sawed off Guillaume Martin (Cofidis), who lost several minutes and slipped from second to fifth overall, 4:16 behind Roglic. With lots of help from his supercharged Bahrain-Victorious teammates, Jack Haig moved up to fourth on GC, 3:46 behind, and Miguel Angel “Superman” Lopez (Movistar Team) moved up to third, 3:11 down. His teammate Enric Mas now sits second, 2:22 behind Roglic.

The peloton reaches a little town and Movistar sets the tempo. This is the first time I’ve seen them at the front; just like yesterday, mostly it’s been Bahrain-Victorius, riding as though they owned the GC.

Now Anthony is explaining how the riders don’t lose any weight during a stage race like this due to their “nutrition.” He’s not telling the whole story. In the olden days, riders did lose weight … you would see, for example, that Greg LeMond looked husky and robust at the beginning of the Tour and gaunt and haggard by the end. But these modern riders get blood bags, which weigh over a pound apiece. (Do all riders get them? Well, I’d hate to go that far, but a lot of them must, based on the average speed of these mountain stages. Yesterday it was 24.6 mph, despite a net elevation gain of 3,600 feet. Unreal.)

Storer pushes on, extending his lead over the giant breakaway. He’s got over two minutes, as the rest of the break loses time to the GC group.

Finishing up my recap, there was one other cool thing about Stage 17: Roglic’s super-domestique Sepp Kuss was able to just sit in and chill in the chase group, and at the finish he launched a tremendous sprint to take second on the stage. Over the last fifty meters or so, he had this huge grin on his face. NOOICE!

As Storer approaches the penultimate climb with 30 kilometers to go, the GC group has almost caught the breakaway. At the back of the group, Aleksandr Vlasov (Astana-Premier Tech) suffers to hang on. I’m actually surprised to see Vlasov at all … he had a gnarly crash on a descent yesterday and looked really bad, lying in the road while other crashed riders were still getting up. I see now he lost 35 minutes … such a pity, as he was having a good Vuelta, having started Stage 17 in 11th on GC.

Now the peloton is all back together, other than Storer who still has 2:10. And now Fabio Aru (Team Qhubeka Nexthash) attacks. He hasn’t had any big results in years and will retire at the end of the season, so this is one of his last chances to show the world he’s not totally washed up.

I was trying to figure out who that DSM guy is with Aru, but never mind … they’ve both already been caught. So much for that.

My online correspondent, a former American pro, says, “Give it to me straight … do you think I could hang with the lead group?” I reply, “Hell yeah, so long as you were riding for Ineos or TBV!” As I mentioned to my daughter on the phone last night, I’ve decided I loathe Team Bahrain-Victorious even more than the Ineos Grenadiers. My daughter replied, “That’s an amazing turnaround, almost like when you decided Little Star is actually even better than Zach’s!” She’s right, as I’ve hated Ineos since the Sky days. But they’re just so hapless lately … bagging on them is like teasing a very small child. Ineos’ top rider now is Bernal, whose big move yesterday came to nothing unless you count propelling Roglic into red; Bernal is still only in sixth. Bahrain-Victorius, meanwhile, has been ascendant with their shocking out-of-nowhere performances in the Criterium du Dauphiné and the Giro d’Italia. And Bahrain’s Vuelta leader, Haig, is really boring … he never attacks, he just sits on his teammates’ wheels and hopes other riders falter. He’s somehow managed to climb up to fourth overall without having taken a single bit of initiative.

With 2.6 km left in this climb, Storer still has 2:20 over the peloton.

In the GC group Mikel Bizkarra (Euskaltel-Euskadi) attacks and Bardet bridges across with him, surely looking to minimize his losses in the KOM competition.

Bardet takes the front. I gather he wants to keep that strange blue-and-white-spotted-cow jersey by chasing down Storer and beating him to the finish. That would be very selfish, of course, because Bardet and Storer are teammates. For Bardet to suck Bizkarra’s wheel would be fine, or to attack him … but dragging him up? Madness.

Storer is over the summit and makes his way down the final descent toward that brutal finishing climb, the Alto del Gamoniteiro. Maybe I have time for a quick bio break … wish me luck!

Okay, I’m back and Bardet has dutifully dropped Bizkarra.

As the peloton reaches the final climb, Movistar takes the front, setting up Mas. Man, look at the profile of this beast!

Bardet is either nibbling his nipple or talking on his race radio. I will assume the latter. Now he looks over his shoulder, and sits up. Ooh, he looks pissed. He’s probably just gotten orders to stop chasing Storer.

With just over 12 km to go, Storer still has 2:22. That could evaporate if Mas or Bernal launches a huge attack. Speaking of not looking too happy, look at Mas’s teammate setting tempo. Looks a little grumpy. Kind of a little eye-roll here too, like he’s thinking, “Sure, I’ll just keep the pace high and then Mas will destroy Roglic and take the red jersey. Yeah, right.”

Some AG2R guy attacks. I really don’t like his BMC bike. I know that clean, cable-free style is more aerodynamic and everything, but it’s a bad look. Brings to mind a pogo stick or something.

The attacker is Geoffrey Bouchard, AG2R’s leader, who has had a lousy Vuelta, sitting all the way down in 17th. This doomed attack won’t do much to burnish his image. He seems to be riding well but he looks kind of depressed. He’s thinking, “How did I choose such a difficult career? I could be working at some marketing agency, tinkering with words all afternoon and then leaving early.”

David de la Cruz (UAE Team Emirates) bridges across to Bouchard.

De la Cruz takes the front and immediately their gap increases hugely.

Wow, Storer’s lead is coming down fast as de la Cruz hammers the pace. Am I supposed to capitalize “De”? It’s a preposition, which suggests not. But it’s also the beginning of a proper noun. I hope this guy gets caught so I don’t have to worry about this anymore. But only if he’s caught by somebody cool, with an easy name.

Bouchard detonates and slinks back to the GC group with his tail between his legs.

Man, de la Cruz really looks miserable! I think I hurt his feelings making fun of his name! Now I feel bad. I’ll capitalize De from now on. Hell, I’ll even capitalize La.

De La Cruz has taken a minute out of the GC group. It’s being paced by Bahrain-Victorious who still have four riders here.

It’s a freaking long climb, averaging almost 10%. Still 8 km to go as Storer starts to fade. I can’t see him finishing with the leaders … I think he’ll be caught and shat out the back.

Storer waits for De La Cruz, looking back as if to say, “Dude, are you coming? We need to work together breaking the wind on this 10% grade.”

De La Cruz latches on, pulls for a while, and now looks back at Storer as if to say, “Planning on taking any pulls here, Chief?” Storer shakes his head as if to say, “No, man, I’m too fried. Also, don’t call me Chief.”

Back in the group, Bardet doesn’t look too good. He’s just hanging on the back. Perhaps he’s sulking.

The gap is coming down as some Intermarché-Wanty-Gobert Matériaux rider, I think it’s Jan Hirt, works to set up his leader, Louis Meintjes, who sits 12th on GC. Look at Hirt climbing in the drops, like a boss.

De La Cruz sheds Storer and now his lead starts to increase.

Bernal attacks! Roglic instantly responds! Bernal is wearing his standard poker face, which always strikes me as slightly nonplussed and adenoidal.

And now Bardet is going out the back!

Only a few riders can go with Bernal! It’s Roglic, Mas, Lopez, and Kuss.

Kuss takes the front to keep the pace steady for Roglic.

Superman seizes his opportunity to attack!

Wow, he’s instantly got a huge gap, disappearing into the mist like one of those gorillas! And the gap to De La Cruz drops quickly!

De La Cruz looks more miserable than ever, even though he’s being cheered by a ‘70s-era rock-and-roll fan!

And now Lopez can see the front of the race! He’ll catch De La Cruz very soon!

Lopez catches De La Cruz and goes straight past him!

In the GC group, Adam Yates (Ineos Granadiers) goes out the back. He’s not having any fun. He’s ashamed of his neck, which is weird in a man.

In the GC group Kuss continues to set the tempo. (Kuss looks a lot like my nephew John … click here and check it out.) Mas, behind him, has a band-aid on his nose. Apparently he cut himself shaving this morning … but who shaves his nose? It’s mind-boggling.

Now Roglic attacks! He doesn’t like Superman taking much time! So far only Mas and Bernal can follow!

Now Bernal attacks again! Roglic is again right on him, as is Mas.

Bernal accelerates yet again! Roglic and even Mas seem to have no trouble staying with him, though. Mas is even kind of smiling a bit, as if to say, “Hey, guys, this is really fun!”

Roglic counters, and Mas is still there, still kind of smiling! His sprit animal is the golden retriever!

Lopez isn’t growing his lead much, but with less than a kilometer left he’s looking really good for the stage win.

The mist is getting ever thicker, making the spectators wonder why they bothered to hike for six hours to get here! And yet Superman is still rocking his sunglasses! What, does this guy use echolocation?

And Lopez has the win! It’s impressive he could even find the finish line!

He chooses the “punch the air” victory salute, probably because he’s not going fast enough on this 17% grade to take both hands off the bars. Plus, he needs to be near the brakes, because who knows what spectator, staffer, dog, or even pangolin could be wandering across the road through the mist?

A little ways back, Roglic has attacked the shit out of Mas and Bernal! He’ll take a few more seconds plus the second place time bonus.

Bahrain-Victorious drills it to try to limit Haig’s losses to Bernal. You can see De La Cruz tucked in there, admirably maintaining his composure after failing to solo.

Somehow I missed it, but Bernal and Mas obviously finished … not sure yet what order. And now Haig comes across to take fifth, followed by De La Cruz in sixth. How do I know it’s Haig, given all the mist? Just a guess … surely this team leader would do something other than sitting on his teammate’s wheels all day long. He needs to remind them that he’s the man.

Some 12 seconds later, much of the rest of the lead group comes over. Wow, this is interesting: Meintjes and Kuss are getting pushed across the line by staffers! Is that even allowed?! Probably these staffers just figure they won’t get caught, due to the poor visibility. Can you imagine if this became standard? It’s all well and good on a mountaintop finish, but imagine if these guys were running along at 45 mph during a field sprint, huffing and puffing through their COVID masks and then being totally in the way when they stop pushing. (I for one am all for such an innovation.)

Kuss doesn’t look nearly as happy at the finish line today as he did yesterday … and yet, even if he lost a bit of time, others have lost more. Kuss will leapfrog Martin on the GC, for example.

Now they’re interviewing Lopez:

INTERVIEWER: A-yo, what it do, Big Mig?

LOPEZ: This is a very meaningful victory for me, my first in the Vuelta in two years.

INTERVIEWER: Bruh, you be straight wylin’. You aint won a Vuelta stage since 2017.

LOPEZ: Actually, my Astana team won the team time trial here in 2019. How come nobody remembers TTTs?

INTERVIEWER: Speakin’ of crews, Movistar is rollin’ deep for reals this year.

LOPEZ: Yes, I’d really like to thank my teammates for making this win possible, along with my sports director, the team mechanics, our sponsors, and all our families for supporting us in our careers. I am grateful to Rosalinda Tejada, our team chef, whose nourishing meals both fuel and comfort all the riders. I’d also like to thank my soigneur, Amanda Bates, who not only soothes my tired muscles but is something of a guru to me. And I’d like to give a shout-out to all the unnamed riders in the peloton who gave me my nickname, Superman, which pushes me to achieve great things so that this lofty moniker doesn’t become embarrassing to me. And I’d like to thank Jerry Siegel and Joe Shuster, who originally created the Superman character, and DC Comics for making this classic archetype of the heroic figure into something recognized globally.

INTERVIEWER: Word up.

Here’s today’s stage result.

And here’s the new GC. Bernal, Yates, and Kuss all moved up a spot, Martin dropped from fifth to ninth, Gino Mäder (Bahrain-Victorious) moved up from tenth to eighth, and Meintjes jumped from twelfth to tenth.

Now they’re interviewing Roglic.

INTERVIEWER: You seem to be in good spirits, despite your loss today.

ROGLIC: Um, well, yeah, maybe I didn’t take the stage, but I further padded my GC lead. I wouldn’t exactly call it a loss.

INTERVIEWER: I’m talking about your sunglasses. Do you even realize you lost them?

ROGLIC: What are you talking about, they’re right here on my head!

INTERVIEWER: That’s a replacement pair, obviously. Once again, we have to replace them because you can’t be bothered to keep track of your gear. You’re just totally spaced out, carrying on like you don’t have a care in the world. Your mother and I have worked very hard to buy you nice things and look what you do with them.

ROGLIC: I don’t think I even had them at the start. It’s been foggy all day.

INTERVIEWER: Look at you! Hat on crooked, sunglasses askew … you’re a disgrace. You know why you keep losing your sunglasses? It’s because you just stick only the very tips of the temples into your helmet vents. Those sunglasses are practically asking to fall out. Why do you think your jersey has pockets?

ROGLIC: Leave me alone, Dad! I’m leading the Vuelta a España! I don’t have to take this from you!

INTERVIEWER: Oh, Mr. High & Mighty with his flashy red jersey. There’s more to life than sports, you know…

Well, I guess we can see where Roglic gets his drive … must have been a difficult childhood. By the way, I didn’t make all of that up. Lopez really did thank his team, mechanics, and sponsors.

Well, that’s probably about it for this year’s Vuelta. Tomorrow has a few climbs but they’re early in the stage, so it’ll probably be a breakaway of nobodies. Saturday has five categorized climbs, finishing on a Cat 2, but I don’t see Mas or Lopez taking 2:30 out of Roglic and even if they somehow did, Sunday’s final stage is a 34 kilometer time trial which surely favors the Slovenian. As my brother Max likes to say, it’s all over but the cryin’.

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