Kwiatkowski’s trail among the people of the Tour de France

If there is one thing that bicycle enthusiasts will never be able to experience from the experience of professional racers, it is that wall of faces, expressions, mouths so open that you can see the uvula and tonsils, which appears in front of them on mountain days in a great stage race. For the rest you can imitate them in everything, from bikes to climbs. Not this experience, not even paying a whole valley to experience the effect it has. Screams, colors, heat is just their business. In the last kilometers of the thirteenth stage of the Tour de Francethe road that led to the top of the Grand Colombier narrowed, became a narrow corridor that slowly opened up, step back by step back, to the passage of the runners. Michael Kwiatkowski he was the avant-garde in that stream of people swollen by the rains of cycling passion. He passed through the middle first. However, those who arrived later found the same situation, the same displacement of souls. One rider may like it more than another, but everyone cheers along the cycling roads, no banner for Thibaut Pinot or Guillaume Martin holds true. This is also the beauty of this sport, the risk of throwing away a stage for a close encounter with the public: it happened (also to Vincenzo Nibali), it will happen again, but making the runners proceed in silence and solitude towards a summit, like what happened at the Puy de Dôme makes running lose a lot of its charm and meaning.

Michal Kwiatkowski led the way as the riders progressed through the crowds. He was the first to reach the top, said that it was wonderful and referred to the audience (for the victory only rejoicing). The Pole did everything right today: he managed to grab the right break, he climbed at his own pace, not paying attention to the sprints of others, he let them do it, he chased those who were most in a hurry to get to the summit – Quentin Pacher, James Shaw, Maxim Van Gils and Harold Tejada -, then he imposed his pace, he was left alone, first he became their back, finally in memory and regrets: no one was able to keep up with him.

And yes, they chased him, and hard too. Tadej Pogacar had put all the best he has at his disposal to work in front of the group: from Matteo Trentin to Rafal Majka. Adam Yates, his lieutenant, had also snapped, the man who must stay close to him, as attached as possible. He wanted to win Tadej Pogacar. He had also said so. He has acted accordingly from the start deploying Mikkel Bjerg, Vegars Laengen and Matteo Trentin to keep the nineteen riders under control. They didn’t quite succeed, but there were tough people ahead capable of holding very high speeds.

Tadej Pogacar was calm behind his teammates, always behind him the silent presence of Jonas Vingegaard. He never moved, he chased him throughout the stage, or at least when there could be a slightest danger. The Dane tried to weaken the Slovenian as Pogacar had with him up and down the Col du Tourmalet. However, the Slovenian doesn’t pay attention to certain things, he smiles, at a certain point he gets up on the pedals and sprints regardless of who he knows he’s following. In the last kilometer he made one of at least almost half a kilometer, a violent acceleration, a punch on the stomach. Everyone accused it, Vingegaard didn’t, at least for a while, hundreds of meters away. At a certain point he too noticed the pain, the broken breath and he gave in. Another four seconds which with the four bonuses for third place make eight, which taken away from the seventeen he had ahead make nine seconds. The fight the yellow jersey is enclosed in nine seconds after thirteen stages. Behind them a large void, not immense, but full of echoes: Jay Hindley is at 2’51”, Carlos Rodriguez at 4’48”, Adam Yates at 5’03”, Simon Yates at 5’04”, Pello Bilbao at 5’25”, Thomas Pidcock at 5’35”. Saturday and Sunday the first two stages in the Alps will sort out the hierarchies a bit, further widening the gaps.

They could already be wider. The two, the usual two, but for once they preferred to wait. You can’t slap each other every day and for a long time, cyclists are no longer the wrinkles and old hunger faces of the past, they need to have an acceptable stage presence. Someone like Jacques Anquetil – handsome, charming and elegant – was an exception, now Jean Robic would be.

Others conquered the proscenium, above all the climb, Michal Kwiatkowski. Because there are climbs that leave you with the feeling that it’s fantastic, magnificent to ride on them. There are climbs that are more motherly than others.

The hairpin is an act of generosity. For those who pedal, because if taken from the outside it gives you a moment of breath – but that only applies to the pitchers, which champions don’t need, they always go up and strong – easing, at least a little, the fatigue of ascending. For those who look, because it can be seen for a long time and also from below, if you are in the right place, if the climb allows it. The Grand Colombier concedes, it is an exhibitionist: a huge panettone with nothing around it. Even his road couldn’t be exhibitionist, at least the one that goes up from Culoz: he can be admired from afar and from above, with those Lancets placed in favor of the sun and the camera.

The Gran Colombier is daring, his way to the top is daring: it wasn’t there, it was elsewhere, it was rising vertically. When there were only mules it was fine, then with the arrival of modernity they had to move it, take the least sloping section, the most exposed, a spur half rock and half meadow, a place for goats (there are still goat cheese from Culoz is delicious). They embellished it with one hairpin after another, very close, drawing on the mountain the pattern that shoelaces make. The Gran Colombier is a recent discovery: it entered the Tour de France geography in 2012. Since then it has been a recurring presence: it looks good on TV. The Jura massif at the Grande Boucle has never been too much liked and yes, the Gran Colombier is a beautiful climb, one of the old-fashioned ones, who don’t care about the average gradient: it goes up in steps, very hard stretches and moments to catch your breath.

Michal Kwiatowski is also an old-fashioned runner, with his half smiles, half sprints, half glances, his being a full, exceptional runner, certainly not half a runner. He won a lot, he won well, he was always honest. He knew he was a champion, he understood that his dimension was not that of a great winner, he made himself available, becoming one of those riders worth racing with, who are better to have next to than against . Every now and then he allowed himself some success, just to indulge in the taste of returning to vice.

It’s old-fashioned runner too Quentin Pacher, a man of effort and attack, a man who knows how to amaze and move. During the eighth stage, between Libourne and Limonges, Quentin Pacher was the most sought after, applauded and called among the riders in the group. He was born in Libourne, he’s a man of the house and there aren’t many races in the area. He clarified it, slightly red with embarrassment at having taken away attention from the better ones. Then he confided: “It’s not bad like this. It’s nice to feel a little special.” He tried again today. He hoped to transform the Grand Colombiere into the Libournais. But the magic failed.

Tour de France, 13th stage: the order of arrival and the general classification