Heh, a Nordic ski stadium with biathlon range. Thumbs up from me for that.
Stage 5: Vitória-Gasteiz - Portugalete, 161km
GPM:
Alto de La Avellaneda (cat.3) 1,7km @ 5,5%
Puerto de Las Muñecas (cat.2) 4,3km @ 6,8%
Alto de La Helguera (cat.3) 1,9km @ 6,9%
Alto de las Peñas Negras (cat.1) 7,6km @ 6,2%
Alto de Cadegal (cat.2) 1,5km @ 11,3%
Alto de Argalário (cat.1) 8,7km @ 6,1%
Alto de Cadegal (cat.2) 1,5km @ 11,3%
The penultimate stage of the Vuelta al País Vasco sees us shift from Álava back into Bizkaia and the Bilboko Itsasadarra, otherwise known as the Ría de Bilbao, or Estuary of Bilbao, as we head for a stage which finishes with a few of those tricky climbs which overlook the cities along the southern bank of the Nervión as it reaches the sea. This is the last chance for the climbers as, as is tradition, I'm ending the Itzulia with a contrarreloj.
Uncategorized ascents are the order of the day for the first part of the stage as we head from the higher plateau on which Gasteiz sits and head down towards the more conventional low-lying mountains of the majority of Euskadi. We travel there via
Aiurdin, a formerly important mountain pass that has now been bypassed by the autovía and therefore is a relatively inconsequential quiet climb from this, its easier side. From this, we then descend via the
Puerto de Altube to the lower altitude part of Araba, around Llodio and Amurrio. There is an exclave of Bizkaia if we turn back to the south after this descent, into the town of Orduña which of course gives its name to one of País Vasco's toughest climbs, however here we're leaving the tough climbing until later, instead going through a series of uncategorized ramps and repechos as we pass through Amurrio. Although the town hasn't hosted its regional Tour since 2011 (the start of the Arrate stage) and a stage finish hasn't taken place there since 2010 (when Francesco Gavazzi won the nearest thing to a sprint stage in that edition), these repechos will be familiar to the riders from the run-in to the nearby Garrastatxu climb in
the 2016 second stage which was won by Mikel Landa. Obviously there, these repechos were not the important part of the stage as they were finishing on a traditional Basque puncheur hell (more of that later) but nevertheless this should give the riders an idea of what they're doing.
From here we cut through further rolling terrain via Okondo towards Sodupe and Güeñes, the latter of which being well known to the race. Unfortunately it doesn't have the best of records; in 2009 it was the finish of a
fairly benign stage where Astana let the break go, and the stage was won from the three-man break by known user of racially abusive terms Michael Albasini ahead of Jürgen van den Broeck and Christian Vande Velde - unsurprising when you consider the trio that Albasini would have the best finish, really... it then hosted the start of the penultimate stage to Zalla that year which was won solo by Marco Pinotti a few seconds ahead of a reduced bunch. The race returned in 2012, with the first stage being a
similarly relatively uninspiring loop around the town which was won in a reduced bunch kick by known admirer of Franco José Joaquín Rojas (presumably a chance to belittle the Basques on their home turf was a motivator for him since he wins approximately once per Scott Walker album release) before the second stage, from Güeñes to Vitória-Gasteiz, was won in similarly uninspiring style in that rather disappointing edition (save for the Oñati stage, where the secret final climb salvaged matters) by Daryl Impey.
Now, then, the climbing begins. It starts fairly easily with
La Avellaneda which won't drop any rider unless they're sick or hurt, because the kind of rider that can't get over a climb like that won't even enter the Vuelta al País Vasco - it would be entirely pointless to do so. After the descent into Sopuerta, we have a rare excursion of the riders into a neighbouring province... while the race passes through neighbouring Nafarroa every year, and at times also into the bordering areas of France known to Basques as Iparralde (literally "the north"), these are pretty much accepted as within the boundaries of Euskal Herria to those adherents of the Zazpiak Bat line of thought; indeed while linguistically Euskera may have lost a lot of its currency in many of these areas, many of the cities, towns and villages in these regions consider themselves Basque and show pride in that cultural heritage; the race typically sticks to those parts of Navarre on the Basque side - Leitza, Lekunberri, Alsasua, Etxarri-Aranatz, Dantxarinea and so on - anyhow. The race does head into the exclave of Burgos that is the municipality of Treviño most years as well, although as that area is entirely surrounded by País Vasco it is not surprising. It is much rarer to see the race actually head into the neighbouring Comunidads of La Rioja and Cantabria (although in the Valle de Karrantza stage in the 2007 race they did pass through Cantabria briefly) or the wider part of the Provincia de Burgos (unless going over the Puerto de Orduña which again allows them to briefly pass through).
In the
final stage of the Emakumeen Bira in 2016 however, the women's bunch went through - briefly - Cantabria, to take on a less well-known Basque climb, and that's what I'm doing here. With gradients of up to 11% and no respite after its initial ramps,
Las Muñecas is a solid 2nd category climb with scenic views into the shoreline area of both eastern Cantabria and western País Vasco.
Whereas the women descended all the way to the coast and then returned to País Vasco, I'm taking them via another short climb (the cat.3 Alto de Helguera) before descending to Ontón and heading back into the race's home region via the uncategorized Cota El Haya (although from that Emakumeen Bira profile you can see it's 1,6km @ 5,9% so not to be sniffed at, though relatively inconsequential here given there is serious climbing to come). After this we head to Muskiz, a town which sadly dots this pristine countryside with an unsightly refinery, a legacy of the difficult relationship of País Vasco between its beautiful scenery and its mining and industrial prominence. But from here on in, the stage gets going properly.
The climb of
Peñas Negras, also known as La Asturiana to add "clarity" (it prevents it being confused with Peña Negra, which is in Ávila province, but it isn't actually in Asturias, obviously) crests with around 55km remaining and is our first cat.1 test of the day. Its statistics are reasonable but the profile shows that it is a very similar climb to the one to the Santuário de Arantzazu that we took on on day 2; the first half of the climb is much more severe than the second; the first 3km average 9% and include the most savage ramps - with a maximum of 15%. The second half of the climb, however, is mostly false flat, with the last 3,5km averaging just 4%. The climb is a stopoff point at a former mining area which lies above La Arboleda, a mini-valley around La Reineta that has hosted the Itzulia recently, going via the
other side of the climb and finishing at those steep ramps at La Arboleda. If I remember rightly they actually went by
this inconsistent side direct from Muskiz, which is parallel to the climb we take, but I wanted to illustrate the descent section from Peñas Negras to La Arboleda. Anyway, that stage was in 2013 and was
won in a Colombian duel between Sergio Henao and Carlos Betancur. The climbs around here are known as being part of the Valle de Trapagarán, and the town of the same name at the foot typically pays for the finishes in the small complexes up on the mountainside - in addition to that stage, they have also seen the Itzulia head into town in 2000 and 2005, with Danilo di Luca and David Moncoutié the respective winners.
Probably the best known climb around here is the Subida a La Reineta, a short-to-mid-length and consistent climb which is also taken via a funicular, probably the most well-used one in the region other than the Artxanda funicular in Bilbao itself. We will be
descending this side however it was descended - twice from different sides - in the
first stage of the 2010 edition around the port town of Zierbena, where Alejandro Valverde started laying traps in uncategorized climbs and they put two minutes on Samu right from the word go. Therefore more experienced riders in the bunch should know what to expect here, however I have sneaked in a little treat afterwards, in the form of a sharp left in Trapagarán and then a short but absolutely brutal ascent called the Alto de Cadegal.
Although that image makes it look like sterrato, I can assure you this is tarmac.
Here's another angle. Finding the correct profile is quite hard, however, mainly as with multiple summits nearby to one another the routes can cross over one another and get confusing. For example, the best profile I have for Cadegal is that it is the first 1500m of
this side of Argalário - however there they then turn left after the village where I turn right, so they then rejoin (at the cruce for Trapagarán) the road that my péloton just descended, so I don't want to do that. Instead I turn right and descend into Gallarta, then across to the coastal town of Santurtzi, with a scenic park and its urban spread under the shadow of Monte Serantes, which keeps a permanent watchful eye over the Ría and the town.
Here, we head along the coast road before taking on the final repecho to the finishing line in Portugalete for the first time. We take a slightly more tricky route than the girls in the
final stage of the 2016 Emakumeen Bira when Ash Moolman tried to grab a few seconds. The finishing ramp is just 800m long and averages around 5% so just about enough for some punchy fighting given there will be no frontline sprinters on the line at the start let alone at the end after these climbs.
Portugalete is of course most famous for the Puente Vizcaya/Bizkaiko Zubia, the enormous transporter bridge that dominates the river at this point; we will not head directly past it though it will loom heavy in the riders' eyeline for much of the way from Santurtzi to Portugalete; much as I'd love to send the riders up
Santa Maria Kalea, we have to be realistic.
When the riders cross the line the first time, there remain 34km. The first few are flat as we head to the outskirts of Barakaldo, a Bilbao satellite town that hosted the start of stage 4 in the 2012 Vuelta, the MTF at Valdezcaray when Valverde crashed in the crosswinds and Sky, who had thrown a temper tantrum about Movistar not waiting when Levi Leipheimer - not a Sky rider nor the race leader - crashed in a descent under pressure from Movistar's fast descending teamwork in Paris-Nice, got on the front to distance him, creating some friction (Movistar had not been similarly angered when OPQS - who Leipheimer rode for - did the same thing to him in Catalunya, but Sky's sanctimonious behaviour in March followed by not practicing what they preached created some anger despite the fact that Abarcá pretty much never wait in such circumstances). From here, we take on the last cat.1 climb of the race, a surprisingly little-known ascent called the Alto de Argalário. There are a few sides to this climb, whose summit lies to the east and a little above La Reineta, and therefore it can be accessed quite comfortably by races. And the views are
incredible.
The side that we're climbing, as you can see, is splendidly Basque, that is to say massively inconsistent and with some horrible ramps, maxing out at 16%. Cresting just inside 20km to go, this is a great place to make moves and carve the bunch down because there's very little respite to bring those moves back in. After the flat section, it kicks straight up to that 16% ramp and then so begins around 3km at a little under 9% with a few ramps getting up to 13-14%. This is like sticking Arrate on top of a short 2km sharp climb with very little respite, except there's no flat section. Instead we get to descend straight away to La Reineta via
the last 3km of this, then to Trapagarán via the conventional side, before taking on that short sharp and brutal climb to Cadegal again, this time topping out with just 8km remaining; those 20% slopes will see this break apart for sure. Then we descend down to Santurtzi and have our final repecho into the finish at Portugalete where some tired legs will be glad for the rest. It turns out that the mountains overlooking Bilbao have a lot more to offer than the Itzulia ever lets them, you see.