Another great day for the breakaway.
The first third of the stage is pretty easy, then the hardest climb of the day, Alto de la Centenera, starts.
None of the descents (or the climbs, for that matter) on this stage are particularly difficult, but at least this one links pretty well to the next climb, Puerto de Pedro Bernardo, a tempogrinder.
There's some respite after the descent, before the longest climb of the day, Puerto de Mijares, starts. It's very similar to its predecessor in nature, but quite a bit longer.
The descent gives way to a downhill false flat, passing through the intermediate sprint at Burgohondo, before the final climb of the day, the easy Puerto San Juan de la Nava, starts.
From here, there are 5.4 rolling kilometres to go.
El Barraco is of course a cycling hotbed, being the home of a winner and a runner-up of the Tour de France in Carlos Sastre and Ángel Arroyo, but the finish location honours its third and perhaps most beloved famous son: the late José María Jiménez. The line is on the street named after Chava, in front of the small monument commemmorating him. I have no way of so much as rivalling Libertine's tributes to the town and its cyclists, so I've quoted them below.
The first third of the stage is pretty easy, then the hardest climb of the day, Alto de la Centenera, starts.
None of the descents (or the climbs, for that matter) on this stage are particularly difficult, but at least this one links pretty well to the next climb, Puerto de Pedro Bernardo, a tempogrinder.
There's some respite after the descent, before the longest climb of the day, Puerto de Mijares, starts. It's very similar to its predecessor in nature, but quite a bit longer.
The descent gives way to a downhill false flat, passing through the intermediate sprint at Burgohondo, before the final climb of the day, the easy Puerto San Juan de la Nava, starts.
From here, there are 5.4 rolling kilometres to go.
El Barraco is of course a cycling hotbed, being the home of a winner and a runner-up of the Tour de France in Carlos Sastre and Ángel Arroyo, but the finish location honours its third and perhaps most beloved famous son: the late José María Jiménez. The line is on the street named after Chava, in front of the small monument commemmorating him. I have no way of so much as rivalling Libertine's tributes to the town and its cyclists, so I've quoted them below.
I have talked before about the mighty cycling town of El Barraco, or the Spanish answer to Palù di Giovo. This town's population is only around 2.000, however its legacy in cycling is great. It is the base of the Fundación Provincial Deportiva Victor Sastre, a major development club for cycling (the name should be familiar to all of you of course) and home to an interconnected group of great climbers in the history of the sport. In fact, on Spanish wikipedia, in the "Personajes Ilustres" section, there are four people, all connected to ciclismo - Victor and three of the town's legendary riders.
The first of the Hijos de El Barraco to make it as a pro was the great 80s climber Ángel Arroyo, who turned pro in 1979 and rode his whole career in Spain, either with Zor or Reynolds (the forerunners of today's Movistar of course). Winning the Vuelta a los Valles Mineros in his first season, he was taken to the Vuelta in 1980 where he excelled himself as a domestique for race winner Faustino Rúperez, as well as winning the Vuelta a Castilla y León and the Clásica los Puertos. Racing the Vuelta for his own goals in 1981, he took the stage to Los Ángeles de San Rafaél on a punchy climb after the legendary Puerto del León, and finished 6th overall. 1982 is probably what Ángel is best known for, however, after he jumped ship to the young Reynolds team. Escaping with a handful of other major contenders on the Puerto del Escudo early in the Vuelta, he was able to use these gains to manoeuvre himself into the lead in the Pyrenees, before backing up his lead with a victory in the time trial at the start of week 3. After the final mountain stage to Navacerrada, where Arroyo successfully defended his GC lead, however, Ángel was one of four riders - along with Alberto Fernández, Vicente Belda and Pedro Muñoz - who were tested after the race and tested positive for Methylphenidate (more commonly known by its trade name Ritalin). The fifth finisher was Marino Lejarreta, who was not tested as testers only took in the first four; so a few weeks after Arroyo paraded around Madrid in the leader's jersey to celebrate his greatest victory, he became the subject of the Vuelta's biggest scandal; he was assessed a time penalty (it was pretty early in the days of working out how to punish doping!) and the Vuelta fell from his hands and into those of Lejarreta. Depending on your stance on Heras' 2005 reinstatement, Ángel Arroyo may still be the only man to lose the Vuelta in this fashion; Marino Lejarreta never even wore the leader's jersey until taking the lead of the race the following year, unparalleled until Scarponi wore the maglia rosa to the 2012 prologue.
Arroyo's career wasn't derailed by the scandal, however, and the following year he achieved his best (acknowledged) result in a GT when he was 2nd in the 1983 Tour de France, taking his biggest career win when he was fastest in the Puy-de-Dôme MTT and took the first Spanish stage win in the Tour for five years; he took another Tour stage the following year, to Morzine, but could only finish 6th overall, some 15 minutes further behind Fignon than he had been in the previous race. Increasingly usurped at Reynolds by Pedro Delgado, both riders moved on for 1985, with Arroyo returning to Zor, although after a season hampered by physical problems he found himself returning to the fold at Abarcá the following season. However, he never scaled the same heights again, and retired quietly in 1989 after eleven seasons as a pro.
A couple of years after Ángel Arroyo rode off into the sunset, of course, the next man in line to capture the nation's imagination from El Barraco appeared on the scene - the great mythical climber José María Jiménez. I have had plenty to say about Chava over the years at these boards, plenty of contributing to the mythmaking around the glorious escalador that he was as well. There's little need to elaborate on his story at this point, after all I already eulogised him with his own memorial race in this thread and having included a great many sites from Chava's greatest triumphs in my Vuelta routes - Cerler, Arcalis, Cruz de la Demanda, Lagunas de Neila, Xorret del Catí, Angliru, and of course the short punchy ramp into Los Ángeles de San Rafaél where in 1997, just like his hometown colleague Arroyo sixteen years earlier, he took his first Vuelta stage; my fandom for Jiménez was already long established by the time I took him with pick 31 in the Fantasy Doping Draft. He was a man of his time in many ways, but amid the legend-making around Pantani and to a lesser extent Vandenbroucke, he sometimes gets lost in the shuffle a little. After all, the Giro seems to have an almost annual moment of Pantani veneration. Since (I'm still frustrated I couldn't figure out a way to get Priego into the route to honour Ocaña) this route has paid tribute to many past Spanish cycling heroes - Tarzán Sáez, Alberto Fernández, Óscar Freire, the Trueba brothers, the Rodríguez Barros family, Álvaro Pino, José Manuel Fuente, Óscar Pereiro, Lale Cubino and Roberto Heras - I couldn't not include Chava, now, could I?
Also, although born in Liéganes in the Comunidad de Madrid, given the prominence of the family due to the Fundación Victor Sastre, and his closeness to Chava (he was his brother in law), the town also celebrates 2008 Tour winner Carlos Sastre as one of their own, another great climber and the poster-boy for "riding your own tempo," every bit the smart and sensible racer that was the perfect counterpart to Chava's heart-over-head style.
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