Okay, maybe I got carried away a little...
Anyway, this is it:
Summary of the
Race to Harz (pronounced ~ Race to Hearts)
In the morning rumours had come out, some insiders whispering that the race organizers BR had not only invited, but in fact begged Alpecin-Fenix to take part, but when they heard Mathieu van der Poel had politely said this race was „not the kind of race where I shine“ (meaning: „not the kind of race I could be bothered with“), they very soon withdrew the invitation and told everyone to hush up.
At the start around lunch time there was a weird feeling to everything, as the riders, looking at each other, thought about what every one of them was doing there on this cold, dry day. Of course pro cyclists are used to find themselves in the middle of nowhere. It's part of their lifestyle to have a very clear idea where they are heading and at the same time wonder what brought them to this godforsaken place. But this felt different. Something was... different. They just could not define what it was exactly. „It's almost“, Daryl Impey said to George Bennett who was randomly placed next to him, „as if somebody just hologrammed me here.“
But George Bennett was busy with a nail he had not cut right in the morning and that had hooked itself into his glove. He just gave a smile that did not fit the situation.
Right after the départ réel there was a small incident which almost brought Jakob Fuglsang off his bike. A black cat seemed to cross the street right before the Dane. But at a second glance it was just a very small, very dark rabbit and not a bad sign at all.
During the first twenty minutes of the event the riders seemed reluctant to race properly. Instead of trying to get into the break everyone seemed to wait for the others to act. Maybe that was the result of a star studded field, in which everyone thought to high of themselves to get wasted for nothing. Too many leaders with to much too loose, it seemed. The pace was really slow. Even after the second smaller hump of the day no serious attempt to get away had been made. Then suddenly Deceuninck-Quickstep decided to jump to the front of the race, out of pure habit probably, and Rémi Cavagna tried to get into some kind of break, and tough the DQS rider himself for once did not seem fully committed to his acting, some others immediately took that as a sign the race had actually started. There was some hustle and bustle, Kwiatkowski, Cosnefroy and Affini among those trying to get ahead, but after 35kms suddenly there was a clear break consisting of Simon Clarke, Simon Geschke and Simon Yates. Now, they had not let Cavagna go, but how could they let Yates go into the break? He had escaped and when the DSs realized the break had already gained around 55 seconds. The peloton soon started to work hard to not let the gap grow too big, or, better, catch Yates. The chase was an eager one, but also disorganised. Again the lack of domestiques showed. Even the Steppers seemed a little out of their game, with Alaphilippe seemingly telling Evenepoel to do the chase and Evenepoel telling Alaphilippe to „man up“, or at least that's what some Spanish lip readers found on his lips. It might also have been “my french is better than your dutch”.
Though the mood was not great nobody seemed to actually panic. After all, is not Adam the better rider nowadays? In one-day races at least? So they told themselves.
So everything relaxed. Jumbo-Visma was seen at the front of the peloton most often, but in general the teams began working together rather smoothly, in a relaxed way though, with De Gendt and Wellens joking and doing boy-stuff on their bikes. The camera caught Sagan looking at them in envy, then having a severe mechanical. For whatever reason it was Majka who switched bikes with him. The two were left a little behind while their German and Austrian teammates moved ahead. Gilbert joined the fun of Thomas and Tim, Sagan caught the Peloton, while Majka could be seen arguing with his DS, throwing his arm in the air, soon afterwards abandoning.
The first hour of racing was done, the second leisurely passed under the cold but blue sky. No strong efforts to make use of the strong gusts of wind were made.
The break worked together really well. It has so be said though that Geschke and Yates did more than their share while Clarke seemed to save himself a little (pretending to not be the main contender in this small group?). Geschke took the intermediate sprint at Einbeck without effort, probably glad he doesn't drink anyway and will not be considered a possible marketing icon for the Einbecker beer, that is, despite being sold in lovely little bottles, actually disgusting.
Soon afterwards they approached the first climb of the day, the 3rd category Hopfenberg (hops mountain): 6,8%, 1,6km. The Bible break took one breath, then jumped over it. The peloton had a few more problems and after the hops a gruppetto formed. Again, Geschke went over the line first, uncontended, while Yates and Clarke were waiting for the more juicy parts of the race. The pace was getting higher as the riders were obviously hungry and ready to do something for their lunch which came at Seesen.
The bags and bottles must have been filled with great stuff! After the feeding the race really started! Just as Primoz Roglic had nibbled on his last grain, Tom Dumoulin came to the front, ready to show everyone he's back. Chris Froome joined him, for a few seconds, before realizing he's not back, or rather, at the back, quickly paying for his effort and barely able to hang on to the gruppetto. Poor Chris, but this is not the Tour yet. Mikel Landa, freed, started something like a small battle for attention with Dumoulin which came to nothing but an almost crash. At this point everyone waited for Movistar to show up and do something crazy but Valverde and Mas were just in the right place, close to the front, but not to close. Instead it was Israel who took over this role, happy to still be around and seizing the opportunity! Nils Politt, so far never known as a mountain goat, started to gain a few seconds uphill when they were climbing towards the Sternplatz (star place, they really have an ability to name around there). Ambition must have taken the better of him. He looked totally done before he reached the top, slithering from one side to the other, gripping his handlebar so tight as if never letting go, but eventually he had to and he also had to get off his bike for half a minute or so, before he was able to get up again. He later reached the mountain top in the company of Froome and others. But that wasn't everything that Israel had to show! Matthias Brändle had started to think he was Quintana, getting out of his saddle, poker face on, smoothly spinning.
Such was the resemblance that guys like Roglic, Evenepoel and Nibali reacted with resoluteness. Such was the pace of the peloton going up the mountain-called-hill that the break's advantage had suddenly dropped to 40 seconds. Way too early! everyone thought, but what can we do? Everyone seemed to feel good, everyone seemed to have the legs. Well, except for Bardet, who started to feel it just wasn't his day. So now no one was willing to hold back anymore. The guys in the cars might be shouting and crying, but this was a question of ego, of too much testerone, at least for endurance athletes. By the way Geschke took the most points at Sternplatz, but who cared.
Going up to Hahnenklee (***'s clover), Nibali was on the front. Then Roglic was. Evenepoel steadily held Roglic's wheel, while Pogacar jumped ahead. Roglic caught him, Nibali had to let go a little. Fuglsang came to them, looking a little weaker, but Lutsenko passed all of them! And passing Roglipoel, he also caught the break. Simon Clarke could not have been more surprised, Geschke resigned and Yates clung to Lutsenko.
In times before the climate change Hahnenklee had build a reputation for some nice small sized wintersport and a really great toboggan run. But as winter sports have started to gain a bad reputation for several reasons it might now be remembered for the first big battle of Roglic, the ex-ski jumper, and Evenepoel, the ex-footballer, because Roglic really tried to get Evenepoel of his wheel, but just wasn't able to. The only ones remotely able to keep up with them were Lu-Yates. Roglipoel first over Hahnenklee, first over Auerhahn (mountain ***). Lu-Yates always behind, but never more than 20 seconds. The others had been left to... whatever.
The descend to Goslar (really nice town, by the way, passed too fast), the sprint there, the climb up Torfhaus (peat house), nothing changed. The few spectators who where able to receive this on their tellies were bored as the tv coverage had set in only after Hahnenklee.
On the descend a lovely looking girl with blue hair seemed to scream “Jakob”, irritating Roglic, as he thought there was no Jakob around (and there wasn't, who knows whom she meant), and he pulled his bike to the right – and that was the end of Roglipoel, because Evenepoel crashed hard!
So it was three ahead now and as Roglic let himself catch by Lu-Yates they formed a trio. Together they crested the Stieglitzecke (goldfinch's corner). Evenepoel was okay, by the way, his jersey in tatters, but he got up on his bike again. When the trio got the info on the radio, they looked scared for a second, but Evenepoel, totally human and normal as he is, was no longer at his best and did not stand a chance to catch them again.
Lutsenko first at the Stieglitzecke! All three of them grimly staring over their handlebars now. Now for the descend and then the St. Andreasberg, twice! A climb of two km, at 7,5%. The trio behaving like a proper break. A nice clear pre-sunset sky above them. The air cold as ice. Pedalling. Pushing. Three great riders, who will win this race? Right at the beginning of the last climb of the day Lutsenko attacks! Yates goes with him! Roglic can't follow! Lutsenko seems to fly, but so does Yates. Lutsenko fights, looks left when the road takes a little turn, and Yates passes him on the right! Wow, Yates looked so strong here. Who would have thought he's the best of this elite? But then it's still early season. Quintana's not there. Valverde isn't – Valverde's there! He's right behind the three, Alaphilippe fighting for his live on his wheel. But they won't be in for the win today. This is either Lutsenko or Yates. Lutsenko – no, Yates! Yates wins the first edition of the Race to Harz. Oh, he looks so happy as he crosses the line, hand on his heart, grin on his face.
- Simon Yates
- Alexey Lutsenko
- Primoz Roglic
- Balaphilippe
- Tadej Pogacar
- Jakob Fuglsang
- Elia Viviani
- Remco Evenepoel
- Tiesj Benoot
- Maximilian Schachmann
…
Correction. It wasn't Simon Yates. It was his brother, there was a mess with the starting numbers and the tracking. Not that anyone would have noticed, but in the winner's interview Yates thanked “Simon, because he wanted to get into the break today, but then he said >just go, bro<”. So it all came out.
Adam Yates won this bike race.
EDIT: I translated the German names, and they made
* of it! Okay, everywhere you see a * imagine a male chicken.