Some may not know the details of the 2009 Etape du Tour. The following is the profile of the ride:
This is the full second to last stage of the Tour de France – which will apparently sort out the final winner of the tour. We have learned that Tour etiquette does not permit riders to attack the yellow jersey on the Champs Elysees, the last stage. So the last stage, and the dangerous looking sprints are largely for show - although they can matter in the quest for the Sprinter's green jersey.
The following is the commentary contributed by Dan Aaron in an email earlier this year:
“Weather may play a significant role in this year’s Étape. Will it be the same as nine years ago when L'Étape du Tour riders were stopped short of the summit due to hailstorms and a temperature of 1º C? Or, wet and cold as it was last year finishing at Hautacam? Or will the Mistral be blowing? A cycling article describes Ventoux as a kind of midlife crisis heaven: Mistral is a phenomenon of the Rhone valley and the coast of southern France, a north-westerly wind like no other. It doesn't gust much; it just blows - and blows hard, too, like a wind tunnel at full power. The wind on the Ventoux is greater, often up to 200km/h, and then it forces the road to shut since, at that speed, it could lift cars from the road; walkers and cyclists would stand no chance. The Mistral also brings a bitter cold and stops you dead in your tracks, reducing your speed to walking pace, or lower. On occasion, even at sea level, the Mistral can sweep riders into the ditches by the roadside. But Mistral or not, it is usually windy on Ventoux. The wind clears the skies and the southern slopes are invariably bathed in sun, so it is hot, really hot. They also call it 'the furnace'. The slopes have claimed many lives. Yet, for some reason, every summer, hundreds of French day-trippers grab their trusty steed, pack a picnic and head for the Géant. Ventoux becomes a cycling crusade. Given, frequently, a lack of physical preparation and, no doubt after a plentiful lunch, it all gets a bit much. In fact, there have been enough fatalities on the mountain to warrant an ambulance station being provided at the foot of the climb. While I have already sent a photo along with John’s emergency contact and insurance information to the station, I do not think that there is really any cause for alarm. In the face of nature’s fury, he is sure to employ the same equanimity with which he faces local traffic conditions.”
Funny enough, current weather projections call for 92-96 deg F on Monday. So we are concerned less about keeping warm than we are about staying cool and hydrated.
More to come.
This is the full second to last stage of the Tour de France – which will apparently sort out the final winner of the tour. We have learned that Tour etiquette does not permit riders to attack the yellow jersey on the Champs Elysees, the last stage. So the last stage, and the dangerous looking sprints are largely for show - although they can matter in the quest for the Sprinter's green jersey.
The following is the commentary contributed by Dan Aaron in an email earlier this year:
“Weather may play a significant role in this year’s Étape. Will it be the same as nine years ago when L'Étape du Tour riders were stopped short of the summit due to hailstorms and a temperature of 1º C? Or, wet and cold as it was last year finishing at Hautacam? Or will the Mistral be blowing? A cycling article describes Ventoux as a kind of midlife crisis heaven: Mistral is a phenomenon of the Rhone valley and the coast of southern France, a north-westerly wind like no other. It doesn't gust much; it just blows - and blows hard, too, like a wind tunnel at full power. The wind on the Ventoux is greater, often up to 200km/h, and then it forces the road to shut since, at that speed, it could lift cars from the road; walkers and cyclists would stand no chance. The Mistral also brings a bitter cold and stops you dead in your tracks, reducing your speed to walking pace, or lower. On occasion, even at sea level, the Mistral can sweep riders into the ditches by the roadside. But Mistral or not, it is usually windy on Ventoux. The wind clears the skies and the southern slopes are invariably bathed in sun, so it is hot, really hot. They also call it 'the furnace'. The slopes have claimed many lives. Yet, for some reason, every summer, hundreds of French day-trippers grab their trusty steed, pack a picnic and head for the Géant. Ventoux becomes a cycling crusade. Given, frequently, a lack of physical preparation and, no doubt after a plentiful lunch, it all gets a bit much. In fact, there have been enough fatalities on the mountain to warrant an ambulance station being provided at the foot of the climb. While I have already sent a photo along with John’s emergency contact and insurance information to the station, I do not think that there is really any cause for alarm. In the face of nature’s fury, he is sure to employ the same equanimity with which he faces local traffic conditions.”
Funny enough, current weather projections call for 92-96 deg F on Monday. So we are concerned less about keeping warm than we are about staying cool and hydrated.
More to come.
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