'Whirlwind since we arrived in Italy' - Rest day reflection of Giro d'Italia week one with roads like ice and love-hate with strade bianche

For the first time since I started racing Grand Tours 12 years ago, I decided to take a full day of rest on the 'rest day' rather than going for an easy spin. I only did so considering tomorrow is a time trial and not an objective of mine in this Giro, so I can use the effort to open up for the following day’s mountains. 

So, I finally got my gelato. A small “tre gusti” (which was nice as they don’t always let you have three flavors in a normal sized cup in this country) at an artisanal spot, along with a walk and a few photos holding up the leaning tower of Pisa was just what I needed to recharge my batteries today. 

Exactly how to handle the rest day in a three-week race like the Giro d'Italia is quite the topic of discussion amongst teams and riders, and seems to require some combination of voodoo and black magic to get just right.

Let’s just say it’s more of an art than a science. Some guys have been known to ride up to four hours on the rest day, while others don’t ride at all. I’ve had teammates do full gas efforts up mountains, yet others who barely put one foot in front of the other. And strangely, I have not seen one method which really seemed to work better than any other. 

Many riders and friends are convinced that a rest day “blocks” them - whatever that means - while others feel rejuvenated and ready for battle. I think I lie somewhere in the middle of this spectrum - I like to ride a little, but not too much, and an OK pace, but not too hard. 

What I am 100% sure of though, is that you need to do what you think is right. Because if you think you’re going to be “blocked” or tired, or whatever from either doing too much or too little, you will without a doubt feel that way the next day when you mount your bicycle to start the stage!

First week in Italy

The last six stages have been quite the whirlwind since we arrived in Italy, and for me personally, they seem to have flown by. We started in a beautiful town in Puglia called Alberobello, a city with very cool historic domed architecture which we almost semi got to appreciate as we rolled through the town at about two kilometres per hour during the neutral. 

It’s not always something we get to see as we are rolling along through cities or the countryside or up and down mountains, as being in a peloton catapulting along the roads at speeds too fast to appreciate requires quite a bit of focus. It’s only after the fact sometimes when you see a photo and wonder 'when the heck did we pass that?!'

While some stages were harder than others, there were a few moments of note - the one with the most press coverage probably being the crash on the stage to Napoli. Personally, I was extremely fortunate to escape unscathed, but I can confirm, the roads were like ice. 

We had noticed the lack of grip a bit on one of the earlier descents, as once or twice we could feel our tires slide a little bit out from under us. Then in a town just before, we went over some wet cobbles, and a rider in front of me lost his rear wheel as it slid from the right to the left before being bucked off of the saddle, and somehow landing back down on it safely. From there I knew the conditions weren’t great. 

So I cannot say it came as all that much of a surprise that when we were rolling down the false-flat descent into the outskirts of Napoli at 60 kph on a road that glistened with a mix of motor oil and grit guys just started to fall like dominoes. I was quite well placed in the bunch but the entire row of riders in front of me went down. 

Luckily, I had left a tiny bit of distance between myself and the guys just in front, so I tried to brake as hard as I could safely while trying to move slightly to the left to go through the only gap in the line I saw… my rear wheel slid once, then twice, and somehow I managed to slow down enough to sneak through the only gap I saw and got to the other side upright. I thanked my lucky stars. 

Half of my team went down, though luckily no one was too badly hurt, but one of my teammates said it was so slippery that he nearly fell over again because he slipped as he was standing up from the road!

Stage 8 was another crazy day as everyone was sure it would be the first day for a potential breakaway victory. Unlike stage 4 where only one poor soul decided to take his chances off the front, it seemed that on the day to Castelraimondo there was maybe only one guy who wanted to stay in the bunch! 

But it was the first time in this Giro I really felt like we had a real Giro stage, one with a fight that seemed to last an eternity. There were attacks and attacks, and just when we reached the point you really didn’t think it was possible to attack anymore there were even more attacks. And then from that point on, the battle continued for nearly another hour. 

So it’s safe to say that half the guys in the break were dead upon arrival in the front. It’s not easy timing it right on a day like that as you never know when the right move will go - it could take two minutes, or two hours, like we saw on that day. But one thing is for sure - when it goes like that, the winner is a damn strong bike rider. 

Our main goal for most of the stages has been to keep Michael Storer, our GC leader, out of trouble. So on a day like that, we could be spectators to the madness, but you can’t help but feel for the guys who try a hundred attacks and then miss the hundred-and-first which happens to go. It’s not easy!

And then we had the Strade Blanche. I always enjoy racing on the gravel roads even though they can be rather savage. There is often debate on whether or not they belong in Grand Tours as they surely add an element of danger, but I can say that while personally I like them they do add a lot of stress for the team.

I do believe the winner of a Grand Tour should be a well rounded bike rider - one who can climb, descend, TT, and race on all different terrains. But as a teammate supporting someone attacking the GC, even we support riders feel the stress. The teams invest a ton in getting ready for a Grand Tour, sending us to altitude, giving us the best race programs to be ready, nutrition plans, refining equipment and the like. And that can all be lost in the drop of a hat if a guy crashes or punctures at the wrong moment, both of which we saw many of on yesterday’s stage to Siena. 

So from the standpoint of a bike racer I love those roads and I love the ambiance around them. I love to finish in the Piazza del Campo, to suffer up and down the steep roads, to pass through the incredible vineyards, to ride past the ancient and historic castelli, to feel the life and the energy of the tifosi screaming for every one of us as we roll by, no matter how fast or how slow, I love it. 

But even considering all that, I still totally understand the other side. There are always risks involved. From our side, unfortunately, we did not survive unscathed, Michael went down in a corner entering one of the sectors while being in the front group, then later needed to change his bike due to a resulting mechanical. 

I unfortunately made an error and was too far back entering the first sector, never to see the front of the race again, also unable to provide crucial support in a critical moment. So as with the everything Strade Bianche, it’s a love-hate relationship.

And that’s the thing about Grand Tours. You can get down on yourself when you have a bad day. It’s frustrating when things don’t go as planned. But they are not one-day races. They last for three whole weeks. 

There are plenty of ups and there are an unfortunate number of downs. One day you can be on top of the world feeling like a king, the next you can be off the back fighting just to survive and finish in the time limit. And both sides can happen to anybody on any given day. Peak form. Sickness. Unbelievable fatigue. I’ve felt all sides. 

It’s also what I think make these races some of the most beautiful sporting events in the world. It’s what makes them the most brutal too. They and we are human.

For this week though, I’m hoping for beauty. Only two more weeks ‘til Rome. 

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