Time trials for a typical amateur are like Peter Greenaway movies to a middle-class movie buff: somewhat indigestible. or like Ulysses by James Joyce for a moderate readership who likes to visit the Shakespeare & Company bookstore when traveling to Paris, where its legendary owner Sylvia Beach first published it, back in left the bankIn front of Notre Dame, before reading the centenary billet, which Pedro Horrillo swallowed during his first Tierreno-Adriatico, between the stage and the stage.
There, on the other side of that bookstore with its overcrowded shelves, are booksellers, a World Heritage Site responsible for those green box stalls regulated by law where you can find out-of-print books, Or buy old copies. miroir do cyclisme, Sepia Gravure with Eddie Merckx or Anquetil on the cover. And even Jesus Lorono, like the previous one, was a good tester of time, but from earlier times, when time trials were not seen on television and, therefore, no one slept on the couch.
The time trial, in short, is a necessary feature, but not fun for the audience, unless a party is set up in the gutter with family and friends, as watching it on the screen is inattentive, leaving the mobile uninterrupted. Looks like, a visit to the fridge. It can also be said that time trials contribute to audience overweight. However it should not be exaggerated. They serve to separate the dust from the straw, to make the initial “MT” disappear from the classification, that is, at the same time that the most classic version was superseded in previous decades. ex aequoBut no one studies Latin anymore.
In short, with time trials everyone suffers. spectators, who may be bored with few exceptions; Experts who sometimes see a joyous pedaling when it is nothing more than a mild development for someone who can’t contain their spirit or thinks they might see a stranded cyclist. Which really goes like a shot. There is no other runner unlike it.
San Telmo . climb for
But it’s the cyclists who suffer the most: with their arms bent on the handlebars, trying to sculpt saddles attached to the saddle, without raising their heads, the directors touching their noses and giving instructions through the earpieces. Only the privileged few, like Primoz Rogik, are not victims. “In all, it’s only been a ten-minute effort,” he says as he gets off his bike at Hondarribia, in full sun, albeit calm, and with spectacular views of the Gulf of Tsingudi, the estuary of Bidasoa and the other shore tour. Country of France. “Of course I would”, when asked if he would be willing to wear the Itzulia yellow jersey until the last day in Arrata.
For the moment, it begins as it ended last year, dressed as a leader, a 9% drop on San Telmo after a massive 500-meter climb that destroyed the clock at the last minute, a difficulty that It was later repeated, the hull of the old Hondarribia before descending towards the finish line on the cobblestones.
Only Ramko Ivanpoel, who started a few minutes earlier, was able to virtually stand in front of him as he was not seen, which is a time trial. The Belgian event managed to lose ten minutes and landed Remi Cavagna, who had long been sitting on the trial throne, reminiscent of that television program, from the time of Merckx or Anquetil, entitled queen for a day, and presented by Jose Luis Barcelona and bullfighter Mario Cabre. Cavagna fell, Ivanpoel not even having time to sit on the throne, as Rojic, after his ten-minute effort, reached like a shell to wear a yellow cloak for five seconds, before answering to reporters. Takes son Lev in his arms, and once again dominates the Basque race, however, there are still a few chapters left. Next, in Viana, the Basque Country, the intersection between La Rioja and Navarra.