This article was originally published in issue 88 of Cyclist magazine

In the Swiss Alps is an event that takes riders back to an age of wool and steel. Cyclist waxes its moustache…

Words Joseph Robinson Photography Geoff Waugh

I am waiting at the start line of the Bergkönig Vintage sportive. To my left is Biagio Signarello. He is in full 1940s Legnano kit, and not replica stuff, either. It’s all original gear – the moth holes give that away. He is also on a matching bike, its maroon bar tape complementing his jersey sleeves perfectly.

He looks to be running 19mm tubs and has seven gears at a push. His shoes look like they belong in a museum and when Cyclist’s photographer asks him to pose for a photo, he immediately goes for that classic racing position they all did back in the day. Hunched in the drops, grin from ear to ear.

To my right, meanwhile, is Thomas Schott, who looks like he has actually been beamed here directly from the past. He insists I call him Thomas, not Tom. He is in a short-sleeve roll neck jersey with red, white and blue hoops, a set of aviation goggles and has a spare tubular tyre wrapped around his shoulders.

His bike is too weathered for me to be able to determine the brand. What I can confirm is that it only has one gear and that he has strapped a frame pump to the seat tube.

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Image 12 of 23

His two tin bottles are attached to his handlebars, and I’m convinced they are filled with brandy or maybe some wine. Wherever I look, everything seems genuinely vintage, with both riders and kit echoing a bygone age. The only blot on this sepia-tinted landscape, it seems, is me.

For starters, nearly every bike I spy is at least five years older than me (I was born in 1994). I’m also aware that my own bike isn’t actually ‘legal’ for this ride as the Dura-Ace groupset attached to my borrowed Columbus frame is from 1991, not pre-1989 as stipulated in the rules. I’m also riding 23mm clinchers, not tubs.

To at least look the part, I have invested in a fetching Guerra Ursus replica jersey of the kind worn by Hugo Koblet, the original Swiss ‘pédaleur de charme’ from the 1950s.

However, now I’m worried that, far from being impressed, the locals will instead be offended that this British upstart has the impertinence to wear the colours of their national hero.

Waiting for the gun that will signal the start of the 107km loop around the Swiss Alps, I cannot help but feel a little fraudulent in my appearance. As yet, I haven’t earned my stripes.

Chasing the sun

On the morning of the event, Gstaad is silent as I climb out of bed and ready myself for the day ahead. I’ve been lucky enough to snag myself a room in the Gstaad Palace Hotel, an official host of the Bergkönig Cycling Festival, so a good night’s sleep was never in doubt.

The hotel is grand and sits at the top of town, keeping watch over the expensive chalets and luxury watch shops below.

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Image 23 of 23

Back in the 1960s, the likes of Richard Burton and Liz Taylor spent nights here and more recently the late Michael Jackson even tried to buy the hotel. Its owners politely declined.

The sun is out but the morning air is chilly. I’m standing about halfway back in the bunch, reluctant to be at the front with the TV cameras and former pro Urs Zimmermann.

Instead I hang back, waiting alongside Biagio, Thomas and my day’s riding partner, Richard Lofthouse. Richard is a finance journalist from London who helped get the word out regarding the inaugural Bergkönig event 12 months ago, running its social media accounts alongside organiser Alex Beeler.

Before we set off, Richard asks, ‘What’s your lowest gear?’ I reply, ‘39/28.’ As we start riding he again turns to me and laughs, ‘It’s gonna be a hard day.’ The comment does little to settle my nerves but fortunately the first 25km of the route is benign enough to ease us into the ride gently.

Leaving Gstaad we head west, immediately departing German-speaking Switzerland for French-speaking Switzerland and the Vaudois Alps. The road loses altitude as we sneak through the hamlets of Rougemont and Chateau-d’Oex, navigating the many cow farms that connect them.

The locals are still asleep, save for an all-seeing octogenarian train attendant who remains expressionless as he watches a mass of wool-clad cyclists sweep through the Swiss lanes.

The early pace is sedate enough for Richard and I to chat with other riders and compare the rust levels on bikes before we arrive at the base of the day’s first climb, Montée des Allières.

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Image 10 of 23

The Allières passes calmly beneath a shroud of thick trees, with a gradient gentle enough for me to spend most of the climb quizzing a British expat about the benefits of working as a banker in Geneva. Unsurprisingly, there are many. The altitude gain takes us high enough to rise above a layer of low-lying cloud as the road deteriorates into gravel.

The loose surface would normally put me on edge considering the lack of tyre width, but I quickly become distracted by the sight of an eagle hovering above our heads. It’s stalking us as we climb, circling patiently, almost as if waiting for somebody to puncture so he can capture some lunch.

The airborne spectacle leads us over the summit of the climb and onto the shores of the glistening Lac de l’Hongrin. We pass the first feed station, which consists of some locally produced cheese and a cauldron of sweet tea, and glide through rich, green pastures flanked by Swiss mountains.

We’re beginning to enjoy ourselves now, taking in the views, growing into the ride, relaxing a little. Even upping our pace. What a mistake that will prove to be.

Fear and loathing

Riding the Arenberg, sitting my Chemistry GCSE and now climbing the Col de la Pierre du Moëllé – three events in my life that have been preceded by the same feeling.

I’m talking about the pitted sensation of fear in my stomach as the full realisation of the near-impossibility of my task is laid bare in front of me. As I turn a sharp 180 degrees, it hits me again.

The climb is a mere 3km in length – or 2.8% of my day’s riding – and it’s a stiff but not unmanageable 9% in gradient on average, but the stats don’t tell the full story.

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Image 16 of 23

There is a nasty sting in its tail, a 30% sting that lasts for more than 50m, helping contribute to an average gradient of 13% for the final 1.3km. Did I mention that I weigh 90kg and my bike weighs 10kg? I certainly mentioned the lack of a really low gear.

Worst of all, I can see every bit of it lying ahead. It’s so steep it looks as if somebody has etched a snaking road onto a vertical wall. I can make out a long line of bodies scattered across its tarmac, walking to the summit.

I’m trying my best to enjoy the less steep first part, bobbing up and down out of the saddle like a makeshift Contador through the Alpine tree line.

This isn’t too bad. Maybe I’ve overestimated the severity of it all. Maybe I’m a better climber than I thought?

Wrong. Rounding a switchback I hit it, and it hits back harder. Really hard, like doing your kids’ maths homework-hard. I flop back down onto my saddle, searching desperately for a lower gear.

No chance, I was already in it and have been from the start. Pushing and pulling on the pedals, I crawl slowly around a shallow set of bends.

My legs are on fire and my lungs feel like they have been twisted inside out. Sweat is pouring down my brow into my eyes, making them sting.

Why am I doing this to myself? Why is this my pastime? This isn’t fun; it’s torture. I weave left and right, trying to trick the gradient like an imaginary paperboy. No luck. No tricks to be had here, just hard work.

Every time I lean forward my back wheel spins out of control. Every time I sit down gravity pulls my front wheel from the floor.

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Image 2 of 23

To compromise, I’m forced into an uncomfortable squat just millimetres from the saddle in an attempt to spread the weight over both wheels. It’s hardly attractive but it does the job.

At the summit I dismount and stumble over to a fold-out table, snatching a handful of almond cake and a bottle of Vivi Kola (Swiss Coca-Cola).

Both go down my neck without touching the sides and I slump to the ground. I’m so drained that I can’t even appreciate the view of Mont Blanc in the distance. I just want to lie down.

Richard, on the other hand, is fine. Annoyingly, he made light work of that insidiously steep hill and, unlike me, he is enjoying the view, expounding on its beauty and taking photos of the cloud-brushed peak with his phone. I’m envious, but not for long.

He may have found the climb easier than me, but we’re equally unnerved by the descent. Just as steep, the road looks as if it disappears off the edge of a cliff – a daunting prospect for bikes with brakes that are far from perfect.

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Image 15 of 23

Richard’s brakes look especially decrepit, and his bike is now nursing a buckled rear wheel. I take the lead and hurtle down the first section. It’s technical so I stop myself from gaining the speed gravity wants me to. My hands squeeze tightly on the bike’s unforgiving brake levers.

They are so sharp they dig into my fingers like heavy shopping bags, turning my fingertips cold through lack of blood.

I rattle over a cattle grid with a dunk, dunk, dunk that threatens to shake my bike to bits. And after the cattle grid come the cattle, who have decided they are going to mooch about in the road today, right in our path.

I can’t complain, as it’s their land we’re intruding on, but it makes for a twitchy moment or two as we approach, weaving between the heavy bovine masses. Luckily we scoot by unscathed and make it safely back to the valley floor with just one major test left.

3,000m high and rising

We’ve all done it. Eaten or drunk something out of politeness because we’re too scared to say, ‘No, thank you.’ Well, this is what I do at the base of today’s last big climb, the Col du Pillon.

The final feed zone is manned by a man in his fifties and his young son. The dad is busy tending to Richard’s back wheel while the son hands me a cup of broth. It looks likes Bovril, but thinner, and is wincingly salty.

I really don’t want it, but I don’t want to offend, so I take it and I drink it down, coughing as it scratches my throat. I smile and say, ‘Merci’. So he gives me a second cup, and I drink that one too.

The coating of salt in my mouth is far from what I need as I begin the ascent of the Pillon, but at least it takes my mind away from the punchy first kilometre of climbing out of town.

It’s not as steep as the climbing earlier in the day but fatigued legs are making this harder than it should be. It feels like I’m riding through treacle.

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Image 20 of 23

The climb twists and turns as we leave the houses behind and weave our way through steep farmland. Not that I spend much time appreciating the countryside. For the next 45 minutes I stare mainly at my stem as I wish myself to the summit.

Thankfully, the grinding nature of the climb eventually dissipates, and I find the energy to look up and take in the scenery.

Around me are flowing green fields, and across the valley is the mottled whiteness of the glacier that sweeps down the flanks of Diablerets, the region’s highest mountain at 3,210m.

I’m told there is an airy suspension bridge that links the peaks of the Les Diablerets massif. That sounds like something for another day.

Right now all I care about is that the view of Les Diablerets means that the day’s climbing is done and all that remains is a relaxing 15km descent back to Gstaad.

Reaching the end, I see a smiling Biagio again. As we line up for some free raclette on toast, he taps me on the shoulder and says, ‘Chapeau.’ And with that, all my fraudulent fears melt away.

The details

Wind the clock back

What: Bergkönig Swiss Vintage Cycling Festival
Where: Gstaad, Switzerland
How far: 107km (Bergkönig), 85km (pedaleur de charme)
Next one: 8th September 2019
More info:bergkoenig-gstaad.comPrice: 159CH (£122)

The rider’s ride

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Image 17 of 23

Wernli Sport Columbus SP

The bike I rode for the Bergkönig Vintage Cycling Festival was plucked from the collection of race organiser Alex Beeler, and the Wernli Sport Columbus SP is one of his favourites.

Wernli Sport was a local Swiss team in the 1980s and this bike was raced in the national championships. The team’s kits and bikes clearly took inspiration from the 7-Eleven team of the same era.

Made from Columbus steel tubing, the SP frame was specifically designed for heavier riders, with reinforced steel to prevent flex – something I was thankful for when chomping away at the day’s multiple double-digit gradients.

Beeler has retrospectively fitted an indexed Shimano Dura-Ace eight-speed groupset from 1991 and, generously, chosen 39/28 as the bike’s ‘easiest’ gear. It also had a set of 23mm clincher tyres to offer me an insurance policy if an untimely puncture struck.

To counteract the modern luxuries, Beeler moved the shifters from the bars down to the down tube for a more vintage feel. Technically, that didn’t meet Beeler’s own bike requirements for the event, but I’m eternally grateful he turned a blind eye.

Do it yourself

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Image 22 of 23

Travel

Cyclist flew to Geneva Airport, which is serviced by numerous airlines. We then hopped on a local SBB train to Montreux before changing to catch the Golden Pass Panoramic light rail to Gstaad (goldenpass.ch). It’s slow but has large windows for unobstructed views of the Alps, a waiter service providing Swiss cheese and wine, and even a coat rack.

Accommodation

We stayed in the Gstaad Palace Hotel (palace.ch), which has an indoor swimming pool that turns into a nightclub on Fridays. Prices range from £500pn to a staggering £6,737. No wonder Lady Di and Prince Charles spent their winters here. A more affordable option is the bike-friendly Huus Hotel (huusgstaad.com). It’s 4.5km away from the town centre and starts at £265pn.

Bike

Bergkönig stipulates your bike be made before 1989 and at the least have shifters on the down tube, making this very much a BYOB event (bring your own bike).

Thanks

Many thanks to Richard Lofthouse, my fixer who pointed me in all the right directions, and to the Swiss Tourist Board (swiss.com) for supporting us with transfers and accommodation. Finally, to organiser Alex Beeler, who bravely let me borrow his own bike and, alongside his wife Franziska and son Leo, was an excellent host.

This article was originally published in issue 91 of Cyclist magazine

The pros aren’t the only ones under pressure at the Tour de France. For the media, it’s a fight to stay on top of the race without losing the plot

Words Mark Bailey Photography Sean Hardy

‘When I interview a rider after a hard stage, I see the emotion and pain on their face and it starts to feel complicated,’ says Eurosport cycling reporter Laura Meseguer, who is tasked with extracting live reactions from suffering athletes.

‘It feels like you’re interrupting a private moment, like you shouldn’t be there. I really admire how they deal with their emotions so publicly. I just try to show empathy and get a few words to help explain to people at home how much this really means.’

Ten million spectators line the roads of France for the Tour each year, but most fans inhale the daily drama through the words, pictures, analysis and interviews of the 2,000 reporters and photographers and 90 television and radio commentators who cover the race.

With up to 3.5 billion people across 190 countries tuning in on live television at some point over the three weeks, and millions more following via newspapers, websites, social media or radio, the media plays a vital role in transmitting the pain and joy of the race to the world.

‘When you see broken riders with snot-encrusted noses you peel away the mystique,’ says Richard Moore, co-host of The Cycling Podcast. ‘That’s not a bad thing to see. I still feel a sense of awe but you realise riders are not the mythical beings that you tend to put on a pedestal.’

Reporting on the Tour can create golden memories. ‘Seeing Chris Froome win in the yellow jersey on Mont Ventoux on Bastille Day was very special, but to see him stagger off his bike and be given oxygen to recover, right under my nose – that is an image that will live with me forever,’ says ITV commentator Ned Boulting.

The emotion can sometimes get too much for Eurosport commentator Carlton Kirby. ‘I get very choked by displays of human fortitude,’ he admits. ‘A few years ago when Nairo Quintana was battling Chris Froome at a mountaintop finish, I lost it. I was wobbling. I could see [co-commentator] Sean Kelly look across at me as if to say, “Pull yourself together!”’

Life on tour, however, is anything but glamorous. ‘I do about 5,000km of driving over the three weeks,’ says photographer Chris Auld, whose pictures appear in publications around the world.

‘We take shots at the start line, then look at the map and work out how many places we can stop for pictures – usually it’s about three – before getting to the finish,’ he adds. ‘We drive hundreds of kilometres each day and have 25 days of fuel and accommodation to deal with.’

Tour de Chaos

In his new book Magic Spanner, Kirby shares some of the comic drama behind the scenes, from Kelly being forced to leave the commentary booth live on air to avoid having their rental car towed away, to getting locked out of his Paris hotel room at 4am, stark naked, after venturing out to complain about the noise.

Whether enduring the stench of the journalists’ plastic outdoor ‘pissoir’ in 35°C heat or trying not to mow down a man dressed as a giant leg of ham after getting caught in the 11km-long ‘caravan’ of sponsorship vehicles, each day is laced with irritations and indignities.

‘While the Giro has one commentary unit, the Tour has eight double-deckers stacked up like overblown Winnebagos at the finish line,’ says Kirby. ‘We have sound walls either side, but the gap between Sean and me is the width of a laptop. If we have a third commentator, like Adam Hansen, they often have to stand.’

Ned Boulting, who chronicles his experiences in his book How I Won The Yellow Jumper, admits, ‘That’s the reality of it – we’re in an airless, windowless, soundproof booth in a truck, watching the telly and talking about it.’

But the stress and tension doesn’t end when the commentary is over. ‘It’s mics down then we run like the clappers to make “the evacuation”,’ says Kirby. ‘That’s when the police hold back the public – especially if we’re on the top of a mountain – so we can get away.’

Trying not to trip over the 60km of cable rolled out in the technical area is a challenge in itself. ‘Then we might have a three-hour transfer – or seven if it’s a big transfer from Brittany to Bordeaux – and the hotels can be absolutely shocking,’ Kirby adds.

‘Some feel like you’ve gone to Dignitas. I’m 6ft 4in so if the bed has a footboard I have to sleep on the mattress on the floor with the bed stacked against the wall. The cleaners must hate me.’

While the commentators discuss mankinis, breakaways and French chateaux live on air, reporters such as Moore and Meseguer have to dash to the finish line.

‘We get to the start an hour and a half early to do interviews, then we either drive the course, in which case you can leave 15 minutes before the start, or take the fast route to the finish using the motorways,’ says Moore.

‘We share cars so if you’re a passenger you can watch the race online, but we actually see most of the stage in the press room at the finish line. You see the riders cross the line on the big screen, then we turn around and they’re right there.’

Meseguer has developed a strange love-hate relationship with the race: ‘At my first Tour I was working for a website so I didn’t have the right accreditation and I couldn’t get access to anything from the interview areas to the buffets. I said I’d never come back. But this year was my sixth Tour and I love it.

‘The Giro is relaxed and beautiful. The Vuelta is small and friendly. But the Tour is incredible and exciting. It’s stressful and every day we stop at service stations and eat pre-packed salads and sandwiches. You get so tired of it after your 30th sandwich. But it’s also a big adventure. I’m always in a rush.’

Tricks of the trade

Tour veterans develop clever luggage hacks and efficient routines. ‘I always pack light as we move every day,’ says Meseguer. ‘I’m on television so I want to look OK – I pack my hairdryer – but we have to be very practical in what we take and you learn to pack quickly.’

Kelly hangs his underwear in the car to dry. Boulting seals his smelly socks in plastic bags. This year Moore decided to pack a folding bike: ‘It’s quite good for exercise but mostly it’s practical because sometimes it’s quite a long distance from the press room to the stage finish.’

Kirby says his aim is to entertain the general viewer while providing insight for serious fans. ‘I’m in the entertainment business and the Tour has this “Wimbledon effect” whereby people who don’t normally watch cycling still tune in to watch the Tour, so I always want to be inclusive. Some like my commentary. Others think of me like a sewage failure in their house.’

He creates his own hand-written ‘codec’ of information to aid him during commentary. ‘It’s basically a sheet of A4 paper with 21 cells about 6x4cm containing all the information I need. It includes details like distances, the profiles of the climbs and the jerseys as they stand.’

His infamously quirky references to local sausages, cloud formations and farming methods are, he says, all stored in his head: ‘I have lots of ridiculous stories and I never forget anything. I don’t have a bin.’

Commentators have also learned to expect the unexpected. ‘I remember that in 2007 Marcus Burghardt got upended by a Labrador,’ says Boulting. ‘I rest my case.’

While the commentators are describing the drama, photographer Chris Auld is trying to capture it: ‘We try to get multiple shots out of one spot so in a mountain stage you position yourself on a bend that looks down onto another bend, so you can look down on top of riders, then shoot them as they come around the bend, and again as they ride away from you.

‘I shoot 2,000 pictures per stage. The atmosphere can be great but you get the odd beer tipped over you. Alpe d’Huez is the daddy. Dutch Corner is photographic gold with the smoke bombs going off.’

Auld respects professional riders but makes a point of not befriending them. ‘Guys like Greg Van Avermaet, Richie Porte and Peter Sagan say hi because I’ve worked with them before, but my pet hate is photographers asking for selfies,’ he says. ‘It’s unprofessional. I am doing my job and the riders are doing theirs.’

The busiest time for news reporters is at the end of a stage when they scrap for access to riders. Television and newspaper journalists flock to the stage winners but Moore is looking for something different: ‘We want riders and sports directors who can give a more insightful take for the podcast.

‘There’s this small pool of two or three riders on every team and certain directors who we aim for. Matt White is a great example at Mitchelton-Scott. We joke about using our “Matt White credit” because we don’t want to overexpose him, but there aren’t many who give as good insight as he does.’

In the scrum at the end of a stage, tact and manners can help a journalist stand out. ‘The Dutch journalists are particularly bad at keeping riders talking for seven or eight minutes, but we keep them only for two or three minutes,’ says Moore. ‘If you can be succinct you won’t piss them off, and they will remember that.’

Meseguer’s language skills are particularly useful: ‘It definitely helps that I speak four languages: Spanish, English, Italian and French. I always got on well with guys like Mark Cavendish, but new riders come in and it takes time for them to know you.’

Highs and lows

Arguments between journalists and riders are common. ‘Mark Cavendish once threatened to slap me live on air,’ says Kirby. ‘I think I’d called his sprint finish a mess. But I’m paid to comment. You can disagree or agree.

‘Not long after that I found myself in a taxi with him at the Tour of Turkey. We discovered that we had a passion for motocross and cars and we have kids of a similar age so it was quite a turnaround.

‘Even Chris Froome has had a go at me. He wasn’t happy that I said he was looking at his stem when he crashed into some barriers. He said, “You didn’t see it so how do you know?”’

But despite the long drives, bad hotels and angry riders, reporters wouldn’t want to spend the month of July anywhere else.

‘The second Tour I covered was in 2006 and Operacion Puerto had broken a few weeks earlier,’ recalls Moore. ‘There were rumours about riders implicated in this blood doping ring and suggestions Ivan Basso and Jan Ullrich were involved – and they were the two favourites for the race.

‘As we sat through their press conference there was a real sense that something was coming and on the eve of the race both were kicked out. It’s tremendously exciting to be at the centre of a really big and unfolding story.’

Auld knows that if he captures an iconic photograph it will be seen around the world. ‘My most memorable shot was of a crash involving Romain Bardet and Chris Froome that nobody else got,’ he says. ‘That catapulted me onto another level because I was just in the right place at the right time and every news outlet wanted it.’

Most reporters and photographers agree that covering the Tour is the best – and most challenging – experience of their professional lives. But you won’t find them partying in Paris when the race is over.

‘I get out as soon as I can – especially now that I have a baby,’ laughs Meseguer. ‘It takes a week to recover and adjust to normal life.’

Auld has the same rapid escape plan: ‘I drive straight to the ferry the night it finishes. It’s over. I’m done.’

Perhaps most surprising of all, however, is Kirby’s post-race recovery strategy: ‘On the last night I buy a Chinese takeaway and some beers and eat it very slowly in my room, in absolute silence, all alone, with my phone and television turned off.

‘I’m emotionally wounded. I’ve been flick-flacking verbally and mentally for days and I’m spent. I wouldn’t swap my job for the world. But it’s bloody tiring.’

The 74th Vuelta a Espana begins on Saturday 24th August as three weeks of racing around Spain commences to find the next winner of the famous red jersey.

Keeping up appearances, this year’s race will be a brutal mix of high-altitude climbs, relentlessly steep gradients and pounding heat that often gives young General Classification riders and eternal nearly-men the chance to shine.

Lancastrian Simon Yates of Mitchelton-Scott is current champion although absent in the defence of his title. Three back-to-back Grand Tours seem to have taken their toll on the Brit who has opted for some well-earned rest.

Last year’s second-place finished Enric Mas (Deceuninck-QuickStep) will also be taking a rain check after racing the Tour de France in July, meaning the only present rider from last year’s podium will be Colombian Miguel Angel Lopez of Astana.

Chris Froome’s serious injury sustained at the Criterium du Dauphine has robbed him of his usual Vuelta appearance while Geraint Thomas is looking ahead to next month’s World Championships rather than the race for red.

This has led to a fairly open race for the overall Vuelta title that will likely see a new champion declared King of Spain and even a first-time Grand Tour winner.

Below Cyclist assesses those who are favourites to win the race and where you could earn yourself a quid or two.

Spanish eyes on the prize

The bookies have bashed their collective heads together and decided that the mixture of a team time trial, individual time trial and plenty of rest since the Giro d’Italia will see former ski jumper (didn’t you know?) Primoz Roglic take his first Grand Tour victory racing around Spain.

Makes sense, too, considering the Jumbo-Visma team in support. Tour de France podium finisher Steven Kruijswijk along qwith George Bennett, Robert Gesink and Tony Martin. That’s pretty formidable.

You can get the Slovenian at 15/8 (Paddy Power and Sky Sports).

If Roglic fails, the Jumbo bees have Kruijswijk as a reliable Plan B which accounts for his 12/1 price (Ladbrokes), although this is a price worth ignoring.

South Americans are having good fun at the Grand Tours this year with Colombia’s Egan Bernal winning the Tour de France and Ecuador’s Richard Carapaz taking the Giro d’Italia.

It looks as if the Latin domination could continue at the Vuelta, too, with the likes of Miguel Angel Lopez, Nairo Quintana and Giro winner Carapaz all confirmed to be riding.

Lopez has the shortest price with the bookies at 3/1 (Ladbrokes) which is relatively short considering he is yet to win a Grand Tour and has serious pitfalls in his time trialling ability.

His Astana team are formidable, however, and the relatively low key GC start list could present Superman Lopez’s best opportunity to date, although not one for anybody looking to get rich off of bike racing.

Carapaz sprung a surprise at the Giro in May and the bookies are not willing to let that happen to them again hence his 10/3 (Paddy Power) pricing which makes him third favourite.

He rode ok at the recent Vuelta a Burgos, but not great, and with it heavily rumoured that the Ecuadorian will be off to Team Ineos in the winter, a question could hang over his motivation.

He will also be hampered by Movistar’s tactics of racing with three team leaders.

Carapaz will be flanked by two former Vuelta champions, current World Champion Alejandro Valverde at 18/1 (Bet365) and fellow South American Quintana at 20/1 (Sky Bet).

Realistically it’s unlikely that any of these will win but an each-way bet on either Quintana or Valverde is not the worst idea.

The third and final former champion lining up in Torrevieja on Saturday is Fabio Aru.

The long-lost twin of Labour MP Ed Milliband, Aru is on a long road of recovery since surgery earlier in the season which will certainly affect the Italian’s chances of GC aspirations, which is reflected in his 80/1 price (William Hill).

The better bet among the UAE-Team Emirates clan is Tadej Podcar. The Slovenian is one for the future but may spring a surprise or two racing around Spain in September. Catch him at 30/1 (Betfair) for a best price that could favour the brave.

Bora-Hansgrohe’s Rafal Majka is 33/1 (Betway) which is not to be sniffed at for a former podium finisher, especially considering the relatively weak GC line-up.

Another price worth considering is 44/1 (William Hill) for Rigoberto Uran. The Education First leader has podiumed at all Grand Tours except the Vuelta.

If this is the year the Colombian completes his set of bridesmaid titles, the high pricing could be something you should take advantage of.

Team Ineos will have its line led by Dutch super-domestique Wout Poels and Hackney lad Tao Geoghegan Hart. Both are priced at 35/1 with Paddy Power and Bet Victor, respectively, and are decent tips if you fancy supporting your home team.

Cyclist takes no responsibility for bets placed or resulting losses. Always remember to gamble responsibly. When the fun stops, stop.

Currently racing across the vast plains and mountain ranges of Kyrgyzstan is the 2019 Silk Road Race, a mighty 1,720km race of mental and physical strength. Cyclist spoke to protagonists of the 2018 race to see what makes this incredible event truly unique

This article was originally published in issue 1 of Cyclist Off-Road magazine

Words Peter Stuart Photography Jennifer Doohan

‘I turned my GPS off and on again three times. I must have spent an hour standing there, trying to work out what was up with it. This left turn wasn’t a road, or a track. I was just staring at nothing,’ says John White, 55-year-old 10th place finisher of the Silk Road Mountain Race.

‘In the end I just went on into the wilderness, and literally had to hike with my 30kg bike for 10km – over massive boulder fields and a couple of big river crossings with my bike on my back. It took me four hours.’

In August 2018, in Kyrgyzstan’s capital of Bishkek, 88 riders took to the mountain roads to begin a 1,720km mountainous point-to-point race. Only 30 crossed the finish line. The route, which traversed the Tian Shan mountains, clocked up a dizzying 26,000m of vertical ascent – three times the height of Everest.

The top finishers took eight days, and while all the riders experienced severe difficulties with terrain, weather or sickness, they also all left with incredible stories to tell.

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Image 2 of 19

‘After doing the Transcontinental [the annual race across Europe] I was looking to organise my own event,’ says Nelson Trees, founder and director of the Silk Road Mountain Race.

‘I was in Kyrgyzstan in 2013 and I always had this location on my radar. It has started to get a bit of traction as an adventure destination.’

Kyrgyzstan is indeed enjoying an ever-growing reverence among a variety of bikepackers and tourers owing to a combination of undiscovered charm and stunning landscapes. Locals are famed for their friendliness to foreigners – and especially cyclists.

Yet given the length, challenges and competitiveness of the race, few participants of the Silk Road had much time to enjoy their hospitality.

Into the unknown

There’s no prize for winning the Silk Road Mountain Race, but competitors nonetheless take their finishing time and position very seriously, with progress marked using trackers and mandatory stops at the event’s three checkpoints.

Unlike in most self-supported endurance races, planning which roads to take was not a key factor, as the organisers selected the route themselves, and it was almost entirely off-road.

‘The format of the event grew out of what is available in Kyrgyzstan,’ says Trees. 'I thought of a road event but then realised Kyrgyzstan doesn’t have many paved roads.

‘You probably wouldn’t want to be organising an event where racers were mixing with Kyrgyz drivers either. So we ended up with an off-road event in the Kyrgyz mountains.’

While keeping the route off main roads meant there was less danger from traffic, plotting the route allowed Trees to engineer other challenges, such as the seven passes over 3,500m along the way.

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Image 1 of 19

‘There are dangers from altitude, exposure – people get hypothermic,’ says Trees. ‘But if you’re well equipped and know what you’re doing there’s less risk, and we can get to those people in time if they encounter a problem.’

The route started by heading south from Bishkek to Song Kul lake, a 470km leg with 9,000m of climbing to set the tone for the race.

From there riders looped through a flatter section in southern Kyrgyzstan before re-entering the Tian Shan mountains (home to numerous 7,000m peaks) and on to the third checkpoint on the shores of the vast lake of Issyk Kul.

Finally, five savage climbs, including the Shamsy Pass at 3,570m, separated competitors from the finish. Most of the route was between 1,000m and 4,000m of elevation.

‘Trying to sleep at 3,800m was tough, particularly because the temperature was -10°C,’ says White.

‘My water bottles were freezing. When I woke up the tent was frozen over, and when I packed it away the ice on it was crunching.

‘Then when I dropped down the valley, the temperature was 35°C again. It was quite bizarre.’

The unique setting and tough terrain of the Silk Road meant that while the race was nowhere near as long as the Transcontinental, it proved to be considerably harder, possibly even the hardest ultra-endurance event on the planet.

Hard and fast

The winner of the Transcontinental Race (TCR) tends to work out a route between 3,200km and 4,200km in length. The Silk Road is only 1,720km long but the winning riders in Kyrgyzstan took a day longer to finish than those in the TCR.

‘We were expecting the winners to take between seven and seven and a half days. The winner actually took eight and a half days, so it was a little bit tougher than we expected,’ Trees says.

The competitors Cyclist spoke to were also unanimous in considering the Silk Road to be uniquely difficult.

‘It’s a different level altogether to the TCR,’ says Tim France, who competed in the Silk Road as one of a pair.

White agrees, ‘At the end of some races I’ve felt emotional, even sad to be finishing, but at the end of the Silk Road I didn’t want to do another minute. ‘I was just completely spent.’

The harshness of the race meant Trees had to be brutal with his cut-off points to ensure he was able to manage the safety of participants.

‘At first I said there was no cut-off,’ he says. ‘The idea was that if you’re outside of the checkpoint times then you can’t get in the general classification, but you can get a finish.

‘The problem is that emergency services are really limited and the reality is that if someone is outside the cut-off and they get into trouble, they’re still going to use the SOS function on their tracker – and we’re going to be the people who need to go back and help them.

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Image 9 of 19

‘We put up a sign at one resupply point saying, “Do not continue to CP2”, which was the most remote and wild area of the race.

‘We actually had one rider who was quite pissed off about that, but I just wasn’t comfortable letting a rider go into the wilderness if we wouldn’t be there,’ says Trees.

While the race has very unique elements, Trees is clear that his inspiration was Mike Hall, the Transcontinental founder who died in 2017 while racing across Australia.

‘The reason I did this was because of the heritage created by Mike,’ says Trees. ‘I wanted to add something to that community. That was the driving force behind it all.’

Now, four entrants to the inaugral event give their accounts of the challenges they faced on the Silk Road Mountain Race.

‘It was exciting to wake up unsure if I would get through the next few hours’

Jenny Tough, 30, from Canada, 15th overall, 1st woman

Tian Shan translates as ‘mountains of heaven’, and it’s so fitting. They’re beautiful, but they’re also unforgiving – high altitude, temperamental weather, horrific inclines and tough terrain.

I’m no stranger to ultra-endurance events, but I distinctly recall saying at multiple points throughout the Silk Road that it was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.

Strangely, though, looking back I can only see myself having fun. I suppose you remember the highlights and forget the painful parts. I rode only as hard as I could and focused on making good choices, meaning I was happy to walk my bike over things that I thought could cause a mechanical.

That meant I did a lot of walking. I didn’t take on any gnarly descents in the dark – I just wanted to put in a clean run, and accepted that I might not finish in the top of the field. In hindsight, I think I should have gone a lot faster but at the same time I’m totally stoked with my result.

I’ve learned that it helps to be on a sleep schedule, so I tried to be disciplined and bivvy down between 11pm and midnight, and wake up at 4am.

I was one of the few people not to use a tent, which was a challenge given the change in temperature and altitude, but I didn’t regret that choice. By the end of the high passes a few of us kind of stuck in a group.

We were riding individually but seeing quite a lot of each other, which was reassuring as sometimes it could feel very isolated and a little scary. The people I rode with were definitely the highlight of the experience.

It was a real adventure. It sounds strange, but it was really motivating and exciting to wake up every day unsure if I would get through the next few hours.

‘The remoteness was kind of crushing’

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Image 15 of 19

Tim France, 36, from Huddersfield, DNF

My first competition was TCR in 2015, and the following year I finished around 30th, but I was very unfortunate – I was struck by lightning. It was in Romania. I was riding through a storm and I was in awe of the lightning and thunder. Next thing I know I’m lying on the floor.

When I came to I was mostly fine – just a few cuts where I’d fallen off the bike. I don’t know if it struck me or the bike. It didn’t kill me, obviously.

I entered the Silk Road as part of a pair, and we started really well. The first climb was unbelievable, from 1,000m to nearly 4,000m. Only 20 riders made it over on the first day, which included us.

The riding was simply amazing – it was like Scotland on speed. Everything was so big, it was just beautiful countryside.

The remoteness was kind of crushing at times, especially when we went to the Chinese border zone – we didn’t see any human life apart from an occasional shepherd on horseback.

It was all going well up until day five, when my partner had to drop out with food poisoning. I decided to push on and was doing well, in about ninth place.

I remember one very long day across a pass, which also involved a five-hour hike, pushing my bike over rock pools and rivers, all at altitude, but I managed to make it to CP3. The next day I went up the mountains and a blizzard hit right at the top. I wasn’t really prepared.

It’s pretty scary at 4,000m so I thought I’d descend as quickly as possible but I got a puncture at the worst possible time.

I started repairing it in the snow, but my pump broke. It was getting really cold so I started putting up my tent when two guys drove past in a pick-up truck. They’d been hunting wolves with shotguns. They wanted to drive me to a yurt to get warm.

Obviously I had no idea what I was getting into, but had no option, so they threw my bike on the back and took me down the mountain. Those guys were really kind. They gave me food and vodka and drove me all the way back to Bishkek.

I was going to return to the same point later on to restart the race but my thru-axle broke and there was no chance of finding a replacement in Kyrgyzstan. That was the end of the race for me.

‘I got up and rode over the pass at around 2am in pitch black’

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Image 10 of 19

Pete McNeil, 33, from Derbyshire, 8th overall

When we set off from Bishkek, we were right into the thick of it. The route climbs up to 3,800m on the first day, to the Kegety Pass. That was a bit of a qualifier – if you could make it up to that pass on the first day, you were in good position.

As we were making our way up, we got hit by this thunderstorm with enormous hailstones. I could see bolts of lightning hitting the ground near me. I passed people who had stopped and put up their tents even though it was only 5.30pm, and I thought it might be stupid to carry on in that weather.

It was really far too early for a proper stop, so I slept from 6.30pm until midnight then got up and rode over the pass at around 2am in pitch black, and it was quite a technical and rocky descent on the other side.

Because 11 days is such a long time I went through all sorts of different thought processes about the race. There was a certain amount of jostling for position, getting upset if you got a puncture and people rode past you.

But beyond that there was a bit of, ‘Why am I doing this?’ I was riding really fast past communities where kids were running out and people were inviting me for tea, yet I was having to gesture that I didn’t want to take that up, and keep going.

The people I passed had no comprehension. Even if they knew what I was doing they wouldn’t understand why I was doing it. There were such hard moments – the ‘grass wall’ after CP2 or the Shamsy Pass were particularly difficult.

But even then there were great moments. I camped at the top of the Shamsy Pass among yurts and wild horses.

I vividly remember the last day as it had a 90km stretch and three passes, and I knew I didn’t need to leave anything for the next day so just went all out. I came in around 8.30pm and was amazed to discover I’d come eighth overall.

I was just really glad to have finished and to have enjoyed this sense of community and these amazing stories. I felt it scratched my itch for adventure for a while.

‘I tried to sew my knee up, but the needle was too blunt to go through my skin’

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Image 8 of 19

John White, 55, from Surrey, 10th overall

A friend sent me a link for the Silk Road Mountain Race, and even though I hadn’t heard of Kyrgyzstan I thought, ‘I’ve just got to get on this.’

To be honest I didn’t hold out a lot of hope of making the entry. It was massively oversubscribed and limited to 80 riders. When the start list was issued, I was number 79. I retired from work so I could get the time to train.

The race manual described the Shamsy Pass as the hardest part, and when we got there we only had 136km to the finish. We thought we’d be finished that night, but we just couldn’t believe what was in front of us: a massive hike through a gorge and up into the snow.

Actually, the Shamsy Pass was hard, but the toughest moment was probably the climb out of CP2. There was a grass slope. It was only 1.5km long, but the height gain was something like 900m.

I was trying to carry a 30kg bike up this unbelievable gradient. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. In the final section there were so many river crossings and when I was coming across one of the rivers I fell and smashed my knee on a boulder.

At the bottom of the valley I took my legwarmers off as they were soaking – I thought it must be from the river but it was blood. I actually got my sewing kit out to sew my knee up, but the needle was too blunt to go through my skin.

I wrapped my knee up in insulating tape, and wrapped my armwarmers around my knee to stop the blood and then rode to the finish.

Mission unpronouncable

Kyrgyzstan is the setting for this epic undertaking

What: PEdALED Silk Road Mountain Race in association with Alpkit
Where: Kyrgyzstan, from Bishkek to Chong Kemin
Distance: 1,720km
Elevation: 26,000m
Next one: August 2019
Info:silkroadmountainrace.cc

Do it yourself

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Image 18 of 19

The details

The PEdALED Silk Road Mountain Race is an epic unsupported ultra-endurance bikepacking race sponsored by Alpkit.

It takes between eight and 14 days to complete and includes numerous climbs of up to 4,000m in elevation. Riders must bring all necessary supplies and will only be able to resupply in towns and pre-set resupply points.

Control cars follow the course, ready to assist in any emergency, but any other assistance (a wheel change, for example) results in the rider being pushed off the GC. Each rider has a tracker for organisers and spectators to mark progress, as well as offering an SOS button for emergencies.

The route

The route is dictated by the organisers, owing to the uniquely remote nature of the Kyrgyz mountains and the related safety concerns.

The race starts by heading south from Bishkek, and traverses the Tian Shan mountain range. Checkpoint 1 is at Song Kul lake, and from there the route drops down to Checkpoint 2 at the Chinese border.

After 700km, riders then return north to complete a loop to Checkpoint 3 at Issyk Kul lake. That’s followed by the final 477km (with 8,000m of climbing) journey west and then north to the finish in Chong Kemin.

Bradley Wiggins was a card at the recent Tour de France, wasn’t he? Hanging off the back of a TV motorbike, joking about Boris Johnson, making friends with Maxime Bouet and getting a little loose on champagne.

In fact, he proved quite the popular revelation of a finely dialled Eurosport team that outshone itself covering the Tour this July. But that's not all Wiggins is up to at the moment, no.

In fact, he seems to be the busiest man in show business preparing for a new comedy TV show called 'Gods of the Game', set to air in 2020, keeping an eye on his collaborative clothing range with Le Col and hashing out the content of his 'An Evening With Bradley Wiggins' tour starting next month.

While on holiday in Ibiza, Cyclist caught up with Wiggins for the bi-annual 15-minute chat with the yellow jersey winner who took some time out of his day to talk about his new TV gameshow, his experience on the Tour TV moto and winning a cow’s tongue at a crit in Belgium.

Cyclist: What are you doing at the moment after your Tour de France moto cameo?

Bradley Wiggins: I’m in Ibiza on holiday but I’m down by the quiet bit, not Oceana and Amnesia.

Cyc: Been down to Ocean Beach and seen Wayne Linekar (bar owner and brother of footballer Gary) yet?

BW: Wayne Linekar has been here but I haven’t been down to Ocean Beach yet, too many Jamie O’Haras.

Cyc: You are taking your stage show Icons back around the country next month. So what’s scarier: being on stage or being on a moto at the Tour de France?

BW: Probably the Tour de France actually because I like talking about the stories on stage. Telling people stuff, getting people to leave with something they may not know, even about me because there’s a public perception of me which isn’t necessarily reality anymore. I’ve changed quite a lot.

The moto stuff was great. I could have sat there 10 hours a day; it came easy to me and I loved it. It was superb.

Cyc: Was anybody surprised to see you?

BW: A few were surprised. Took a while for people to realise it was me on the back of the bike. It was nice seeing some of the riders coming back through the bunch and saying hello.

Particularly with that clip that went big with Maxime Bouet. ‘I love you man’.

Cyc: What can we expect from Icons this year?

BW: Inevitably, there will be new stuff as my career is now as a pundit so there will be stuff to discuss about that. I’ll have some new memorabilia but I don’t really plan it because the best stuff isn’t contrived. How I went with it last year.

Photo: Offside

Cyc: Have you acquired any new memorabilia since Cyclist visited last year?

BW: Yeah, I have some new Eddy Merckx jerseys that are turning up, a yellow from 1969. There will be some new bits for the show, too, like a Charly Gaul pink jersey from the Giro d’Italia. I’ll also have Tom Simpson’s bowler coming with me.

Cyc: What’s the best memorabilia you have away from cycling?

BW: I have a Steve Craddock guitar he gave me when I played on stage with Ocean Colour Scene at the Hammersmith Apollo. Yeah, he gave me that after the show. Still got that somewhere which is probably the stand out away from cycling.

Cyc: You are set to host a new comedy sports show called ‘Gods of the Game’ in 2020. Which TV presenter will you be taking inspiration from?

BW: Myself, more than anyone. It’s a comedy show which is nice, there is free reign to be myself like I was on the TV moto.

But I must say, I’ve grown up like certain comics like Mikey Flanagan so maybe that. I like Jonny Vaughn’s whacky, off-the-wall style but with a touch of Richard E Grant when he does the show about nice hotels [Richard E Grant's Hotel Secrets]. I love his casualness.

Cyc: As a huge sports fan, if you could swap your achievements with any other athlete, past or present, who would it be?

BW: I think I’d swap with Sir Steve Redgrave and do what he did with the rowing and the Olympics. I’ve always been fascinated by that sport and the aesthetics of rowing, how hard it is to row. Like the fascination of trying to make a bike move fast that I have, I have the same with a boat on the water.

Photo: Offside

Cyc: Have you ever been starstruck by another sportsperson?

BW: A few actually, yeah. About two months ago I met Paul Gascoigne. Kind of tragic at the same time but he was truly lovely. I was 10 when Italia 90 happened and I had the Gazzer haircut and I was football mad. Then in Euro 96 with the goal against Scotland and the dentist chair.

Cyc: Would you rather win the Challenge Cup with Wigan or Champions League with Liverpool?

BW: I would rather win the Champions League with Liverpool, definitely.

Cyc: Which footballer would make the best pro cyclist?

BW: James Milner. He has a down to earth mentality that would fit into Team Ineos’s mountain train in a heartbeat.

Cyc: Which cyclist from your career is most like a footballer?

BW: Christian Knees. I rode with him for many years at Team Sky. Like a Virgil Van Dijk at Liverpool, he was a man-mountain. He’d be a big German centre half who no one would have messed with.

Cyc: Talking of no-nonsense, which rider from your career did you fear the most?

BW: Mario Cipollini. Nobody messed with Cipo. He was quite scary as a kid, he ruled the peloton. If he said we’re not riding, we were not riding, nobody would dare attack him.

Photo: Offside

Cyc: Was he the biggest character from your career?

BW: There were a few characters actually. Jacky Durand was bonkers. Richard Virenque. Those two really stick out.

Cyc: UK Politics is in a way at the moment. Cycling has always been about politics, and who controls the peloton. Which rider from your career would be the best replacement for Boris Johnson?

BW: Michael Rogers, he is Australian but such an intelligent guy and would make a much better prime minister than Boris. Rogers is intelligent, entrepreneurial. He was just a gentleman as well he was very level headed, very broad-minded about situations.

Photo: Offside

Cyc: Odd Christian Eiking of Wanty-Gobert won 500kg of salmon for taking the KOM classification at the recent Arctic Race of Norway. What’s the strangest thing you ever won?

BW: I won a cow’s tongue in Belgium at a crit. It came in a packet of blood and it had been cut out of a cow and was considered a delicacy in the town in Belgium.

You’re supposed to eat it but we drove back that night to England, through the ferry, and opened the packet and all this blood poured out the back of the mouth.

So we just strapped it to the back of the saddle of a bike belonging to team mechanic Dan Gilchrist that was on the roof.

Cyc: Lastly, as you are in Ibiza, a pint of lager or a gin and tonic?

BW: G&T definitely. Quite like it with orange, few raspberries and a couple of coffee beans.

'An Evening with Bradley Wiggins' begins to tour the country from Friday 6th September at the Lincoln Engine Shed. For information on tickets, click here.

A 22-year-old Colombian became a nation's hero this summer and got a yellow bike for his troubles, too

Words: Joe Robinson Photography: Peter Stuart

Even Grammy-award winning superstar Shakira took time out of her busy schedule to congratulate Egan Bernal, such was the magnitude of what he achieved in France this July.

The 22-year-old became the first Colombian to ever win the yellow jersey of the Tour de France and in doing so captured a nation's heart.

Bernal did something we all knew would happen eventually. Ever since the early days of Fabio Parra and ‘Lucho’ Herrera or even with ‘Cochise’ Rodriquez before that, there was an air of inevitability that a Colombian would conquer the Tour.

Each rider that came along chipped away at the path and some came within touching distance of making it a reality but eventually fell short, usually to a gangly African-born Brit called Chris Froome.

Nairo Quintana, Rigoberto Uran, they both got so close but it was eventually a 22-year-old from the small city Zipaquirá, just northeast of Bogota, riding for the world’s most wealthy and powerful cycling team that made history.

Bernal became more than a national hero in winning the Tour. His reception was beyond what an athlete is usually afforded because Bernal’s actions were more than what an athlete usually achieves.

Cycling is Colombia's biggest sport and Bernal was the first to bring home its biggest prize. Pilots saluted him, kids wept over the sight of him, artists painted murals of him on buildings.

Bernal is in a unique position that’s comparable to very few sportsmen or women in history in that he is probably now bigger than the sport he represents in his own country. And as its highly likely that this is only the first of many Tour de France victories, we expect this to continue.

In the meantime, why don't we just enjoy this Cyclist gallery of Bernal's special edition Tour de France Pinarello Dogma F12?

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Image 2 of 10

Pictures snatched from the roadside during the 2019 Deloitte Ride Across Britain 
(lead image from a previous edition of the Ride Across Britain)

Our regular contributor Joseph Delves is currently heading up the country on the Deloitte Ride Across Britain. Aiming to make it from Land's End to John O'Groats over the next nine days, in his frame bag, along with a multi-pack of Snickers, is an Instax camera.

Taking photos to put together a scrapbook covering the ride, below is the first instalment.

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Image 2 of 4

Day 1, Land’s End to Okehampton - 169km, 2510m

Starting from the southernmost point of the UK mainland at Land’s End, the cliffs below our first campsite have broken ships snagged in their teeth. Rolling north-east, an infinite number of punchy Cornish climbs seem similarly disinclined to let cyclists escape.

Past St Michael’s Mount out in the Channel, before pushing inland, from here views snatched between the hedgerows show rolling fields all heading into autumn.

Eventually, the farmland runs out as we climb up to Bodmin Moor. Wild and exposed, abandoned tin mines sit like huge, bleak houses. Finally skirting Dartmoor, day one has been a tough intro. With the last third refusing to go down, I finish dog-tired.

By the day’s end the dot on my phone seems to have barely moved.

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Image 3 of 4

Day 2, Okehampton to Bath - 177km, 2088m

Unzipping my tent, the near-freezing air sets me worrying what the temperatures will be further north. Although the unexpectedly fresh state of my legs has me fairly confident I'll make it far enough to find out.

Soon sweltering, having yesterday crossed Cornwall and Devon, this morning takes us into Somerset. Past wind farms, then high into the Quantocks via Cothelstone Hill, it's rarely flat. Up through Cheddar Gorge, boy racers and holidaymakers are both trying to make the most of one last summer Sunday as we snake our way through.

Emerging out the far end and onto quieter roads, finally, we’re deposited outside the Georgian spa town of Bath. With just enough time to dash in and see the park and Royal Crescent, bed for the night is in the university halls rather than a tent.

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Image 4 of 4

Day 3, Bath to Ludlow - 177km, 1813m

Leaving the relative comfort of the campus, no one is in a hurry to head into the sopping wet morning. A few hours braving the rain take us onto the Severn Bridge, with the river below it looking bleak and imposing in the mist.

A stretch further and we’re into Chepstow. Overlooked by its gothic castle, from here we head over the River Wye and into Wales. With water all around, across Offa’s dyke and through steaming woods, we race along the river’s eastern side on deserted roads.

Still raining, the spray leaves riders inclined to ride at their own pace rather than in close formation. Over a last bridge, the medieval crossing at Ludlow, I finally flop soggily into my tent beside the finishing straight of the town’s famous race course.

Deloitte Ride Across Britain takes place from 7^th to 15^thSeptember, for more information visit the Ride Across Britain website.

Rwanda has launched an official bid to host the 2025 World Championships. The central African nation will compete against Morocco for the honour of being the first African nation to host the event.

Last year, journalist Laura Potter visited Rwanda and its annual stage race, the Tour of Rwanda, to discover a nation truly obsessed with cycling.

This article was originally published in issue 85 of Cyclist magazine

Words Laura Potter Photography Juan Trujillo Andrades

At the Hilltop Hotel in Kigali, capital city of Rwanda, there’s one name on everyone’s lips: Didier Munyaneza. The 20-year-old is a rising star in a country where cycling is booming both as a participation and spectator sport.

‘Didier never looks as if he’s even struggling,’ enthuses Sean Belfast, Massachusetts-born head mechanic for the national squad, Team Rwanda. ‘He’s hands down the best athlete in Rwanda,’ agrees Sterling Magnell, the team’s California-born director.

‘He has no idea how good he is. He’s just having fun winning races. You would think all the success he’s having would go to his head, but not one iota. He’s stoked 24/7.’

Nation race

It’s 4th August 2018 and the air is thick with humidity and anticipation. It’s the day before the start of the Tour du Rwanda and Cyclist is here with staff and riders from the national team.

The car park is packed, but it’s not the same as at races on the European WorldTour circuit. Some of the team cars are as old as the riders themselves, with stickers slapped on the metalwork and two-bike racks strapped on the back.

The bikes being wheeled around range from Pinarello Dogma F8s to cheap models with nearly a decade of riding in them.

Many have mismatched components, with some sporting aluminum training wheels. Mechanics are cleaning road grit out of groupsets with knives. This is one tour that won’t be won by technology.

As races go it’s stripped back to the essentials and, according to Magnell, it will be won through strong riding and psychological warfare: ‘These teams are small armies.

‘They’re not in physical combat but it is violent and it engages a very primitive part of our brains.’

When ex-pro Magnell arrived in 2015 he had a tough time getting the best from his new squad. Back then, the Rwandan national team programme had as many as 20 full-time riders effectively on a salary. With no incentive to improve, some long-term team members didn’t even show up to training, yet still got paid.

‘There was a power struggle, so riders have had to go through a character rehabilitation,’ says Magnell. ‘There was a sense of entitlement among some, a lot of complaining, some bad attitudes, and a couple of times it threatened to tarnish our reputation [some riders went on strike], so I insisted on stamping that out.

‘Now nobody makes any money simply from being on the national team and no one is guaranteed a position on it.

‘It’s based on performance, merit, character and communication. Some individuals chose to make amends for their mistakes and to change. Others chose to call my bluff and they’re still outside because there’s no room on the team for selfish athletes.’

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Image 6 of 18

Young ones

All the riders on Team Rwanda are under 21. With only a few days to go to his 22nd birthday, Jean Damascene Ruberwa is a veteran, having ridden the Tour du Rwanda twice before.

‘I’m feeling good. I’ve been training hard,’ he says in the hotel car park after a gentle training ride. This will be my third time. The first time it was very hard – I was inexperienced – but the second time it was better.

‘This time I hope it will be better still. It’s very hilly, but we train in the hills so I’m ready. We wait for this race all year, and when it’s here it’s the best time in my life.’

His goals? ‘To win a stage, get a jersey and to help my teammates. ‘I want to be part of a breakaway and we’re really hoping for a place on the podium.’

The top of the podium has become a well-worn spot for Team Rwanda. Since Valens Ndayisenga won in 2014 no other nation has stolen the crown back, and everyone is hungry for more success.

‘Oh man, it’s going to be interesting,’ says Belfast. Magnell agrees: ‘The climbs are really going to test these riders. It’s a challenging course but it really favours our team. There are some new roads, but we got a chance to preview them in a race three weeks ago.’

One such hill is the now infamous ‘Wall of Kigali’, a 12% climb on cobbles that riders have to attack twice on the final stage.

‘It’s short and favours riders who have grit, a lot of power and bike-handling skills,’ says Magnell.

He has confidence in his team to win for the fifth year running, but admits it doesn’t get any easier.

‘It’s pure stress,’ he says. ‘I don’t bask in the joy of it – I’m always looking towards the next thing.’

And next, for today at least, is lunch. There are no team nutritionists to create individualised menus. Here, riders sit around circular tables in a huge dining room piling their plates high from metal vats at the self-serve buffet.

On the menu: fried rabbit, spiced chicken, goat stew, rice, yams and greens.

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Image 13 of 18

Rwanda’s great hope

Lunch consumed, Dider Munyaneza heads for a massage, giving us a chance to chat. The massage table is set up not in the privacy of a hotel room, but in a corridor. Not that it bothers Munyaneza. He’s everything you’d expect from the rider his coach describes as ‘stoked 24/7’.

A huge smile brightens his face as I greet him, and he reaches out his hand to shake (something germ-phobic WorldTour riders would never do).

‘I’m feeling good,’ he says. ‘I want to do something for my coach, for my team. I hope we win the Tour – that’s my goal.’

Munyaneza’s route into pro cycling has been a difficult one. The youngest in his family, he dropped out of school when his older brother died and became a bike taxi rider to earn money.

His neighbours, former national cycling team captain Janvier Hadi and former national champion Gasore Hategeka, saw his potential.

‘I watched Hategeka ride, so I wrote to him and he supported me,’ Munyaneza says.

He formally joined the sport in 2013, but a lack of money forced him to return to working as a bike taxi a year later. Hadi and Hategeka encouraged him back in 2015, helped by some local inspiration.

‘I went to watch the Tour du Rwanda and Jean Bosco Nsengimana, from my home town, won. I started training hard, then I went to the Africa Rising Centre to be tested and the coach was very happy. He gave me a bike.’

In 2016, Munyaneza finally sold his taxi bike to concentrate solely on pro cycling: ‘Last year I finished eighth in the Tour du Rwanda.

‘To be in the top 10 at my first attempt was very good. My goal is to race the Tour de France one day.’

Judging by his successes, including becoming the Rwandan national champion and qualifying for both the U23 World Championships and Tour de l’Avenir, it’s not an unrealistic goal.

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Image 12 of 18

Race time

The next day in Rwamagana, 45 minutes outside Kigali, the build-up to the opening stage is underway. The sun beats down on the ochre road, reggae blasts from huge speakers and crowds cram 30-deep at the roadside, atop buildings and nestled in tree branches.

One local fan tells me, ‘The Tour du Rwanda means everything. When it comes, everyone is happy, from the cyclists to small children watching.

‘We are in the middle of Africa, and the world is here. Bikes give you freedom, they help you clear your mind and they change people’s lives. Cycling for me is like breathing.’

With that, a lorry pulls up and the rear opens to reveal it is filled with bikes. Everyone lends a hand unloading them, including team directors, soigniers, mechanics and even race organisers.

Next, the buses arrive. They’re not like Team Ineos’s luxurious ‘Death Star’ bus – they’re more like yellow school buses, and it’s not one bus per team. Everyone piles in together.

The riders disembark, and there is not even a cordoned off area for them, so they get changed wherever they can in the street and head to the start line.

Munyaneza spots us and flashes his signature grin. If he’s nervous, he’s disguising it well. Magnell is philosophical, his sights set far beyond today’s 97.5km stage: ‘Four days after this we have the Tour de l’Avenir.

‘This is the first time an African team has been invited and if you finish on the podium you can get a WorldTour contract. Then we have the World Championships, where we’re ranked number one in the U23 category in Africa, so we can bring five athletes to Innsbruck, and it’s a course that suits us.

‘The goal is to win here, but judging by these riders’ progression, success on the world stage is not out of the question.’

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Onwards and upwards

The opening stage, started by UCI president David Lappartient, is signed, sealed and delivered in two hours 12 minutes, won by Algerian veteran Azzedine Lagab.

Team Rwanda’s first rider across the line is Munyaneza. No one is quite sure where the buses are, so the riders stand on grass verges, stripping off sweaty kit among the fans and handing out their branded drinks bottles to small children.

Finally, word gets around that the buses are in the start area, and the race is whisked away to the next stage, leaving a town still resonating with the sheer thrill of it.

For the next few days, crowds will stretch the entire 948.6km course cheering, dancing and delighting in this travelling circus of bikes.

By the time it’s all over, Team Rwanda will have lived up to Magnell’s dreams, but not courtesy of Munyaneza, who will finish eighth. Instead, it’s teammate Samuel Mugisha who takes the title.

Munyaneza is still stoked, and goes on to finish 2018 as national champion, having been part of the Rwandan team that took silver at the men’s team time-trial at the inaugural Africa Cup, and having competed at the World Championships in the Under-23 Road Race (he didn’t finish).

Perhaps 2019 will be his year – the same year that the Tour du Rwanda is elevated to a UCI category 2.1 race. Then I can tell everyone that I once shook his hand while he lay in his smalls in a hotel corridor.

The Catford Hill Climb is the oldest continuously held cycling race in the world and one of the most prestigious hill climbs in the UK. Taking place on a leafy hill in rural Kent, it tackles the fearsome slopes of York's Hill - and is now sponsored by Cyclist.

With the 2019 hill climb season well underway, we revisit the 2018 edition. This article was originally published in issue 81 of Cyclist Magazine

Words: Joseph RobinsonPhotography:David Wren

On Saturday 27th August 1887, SF Edge of Anerley Bicycle Club beat 23 fellow riders to win the inaugural Catford Hill Climb. That year, only 12 competitors reached the summit of Westerham Hill in southeast London, including one on a Penny Farthing. Edge’s bike was 15.8kg of steel and turned a 52-inch gear.

Leap forward to Sunday 7th October 2018, and Rowan Brackston of London
Dynamo has just beaten 142 others to take the 123rd Catford title. All but a couple of riders made it to the top of York’s Hill, a short distance away from Westerham Hill, and most of them managed it in less than three minutes. Brackston’s bike has electronic gearing and weighs no more than 6kg.

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Image 8 of 18

A lot has changed in 131 years – the bikes, the hill, the popularity – but the concept remains the same. Start at the bottom, ride as hard as you can to the top, then collapse in a heap over the line. It’s probably why the Catford Hill Climb has stood the test of time and can lay claim to being the world’s oldest continuing cycling race.

Times gone by

This year’s race is a familiar blend of pained faces, yelling crowds and slippery surfaces. Open to all-comers, from whippet-thin pros to plucky weekend warriors, the Catford Hill Climb is as gruelling and popular as it has ever been. Although, as Catford stalwart John Gill, aged 81, tells us, the event is lucky to be here at all.

‘When we had the big storm of 1987, York’s Hill took a right battering and they never thought the road would re-open let alone be used for a hill climb again,’ he says.

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Image 12 of 18

Gill was around during the glory days of the 1970s and 80s, including in 1983, the year flying Phil Mason set the existing course record of 1min 47.6sec on a fixed gear bike. But the ‘great storm’ of 1987 saw the race almost disappear along with six of nearby Sevenoaks’ seven oaks.

‘It did start again, eventually,’Gill adds, ‘but this hurt the race and throughout the 1990s we were lucky to get 25 riders entering. So to have 150 or so taking to the start line these days is just wonderful.’

The cycling boom in the early part of the new Millennium generated a renewed interest in hill climb events, and now the event struggles to cope with the number of riders who want to participate. Race organiser Le Anh Luong has to barter with the CTT, the national governing body for cycling time-trials, on a yearly basis.

This year he has persuaded them to increase entries to 150 from the allotted 120 to avoid disappointing riders. It’s all part of a process that has become a year-long labour of love for Luong.

‘I have already submitted the application for the 2019 race. Then, by February, I will contact the police regarding the road closure and leaflet the local residents to inform them of the race,’ he says. ‘Come September it will be a full-time job keeping entrants and spectators up-to-date before race day and making sure all goes smoothly.’

Let the games begin

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Image 5 of 18

The day’s big contenders are the last to ride, so while they warm up on their rollers in the autumn sun, the initial 100 or so riders line up to punish themselves on the climb.

Some are regulars looking for a personal best time, while others are just looking to make it to the top without vomiting. At the finish line we ask 47-year-old Carlos Martinez of Southborough Wheelers to tell us why he is competing, and he replies, ‘Mid-life crisis, innit.’

He is gasping for breath and barely able to speak, but he does his best to give us his view of the climb: ‘It’s impossible to pace, you cannot get any traction because the road’s so damp. It’s just so hard.’

On paper, York Hill doesn’t sound particularly hard at all. It’s only 647m in length and averages 12.5%, but it has two particularly nasty sections at 25% (or 27% depending on who you ask) and because it is overhung on both sides by trees with falling leaves the road surface is invariably slippery.

This forces riders into a constant dilemma about whether to ride in or out of the saddle. Sit in the saddle and you potentially limit the amount of power you can produce, but stand up out of the saddle and you risk the rear wheel slipping as you lose traction.

One young rider, Freddy Mitchell, aged 16, talks us through the specific difficulties of the climb: ‘At the bottom, the middle of the road is so terrible you are forced into riding up one side or the other. Then you get to the steep section and you don’t know whether to get out of the saddle or not because you have no grip. Your legs go first and then the lungs. Both are just screaming at you to stop. It’s grim. Honestly, if it wasn’t for the crowd at the top I don’t think many would make it to the finish.’

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Image 6 of 18

It’s a crowd of several hundred, a mixture of loyal family, friends and teammates who line the roadside three- deep and urge the riders onwards. In terms of atmosphere, it’s a match for any Alpine climb during the Tour.

The sound echoes up the slope, offering a boost better than any tailwind, with the noise getting louder and louder until the final few riders depart. Eventually, last man up, Ewan Tuohy, crests the climb to the loudest roar of all.

His effort is good but not good enough to topple Rowan Brackston of London Dynamo, who wins with a time of 1min 57.6sec. Tuohy comes in second, with a time a whisker over two minutes. Having come so close to victory, you’d expect him to be filled with disappointment, but that’s not why he races.

‘You race hill climbs for the sadomasochistic enjoyment of seeing how much you can hurt yourself, how far you can push your body’s limits, and there’s no better test than York’s Hill,’ he says.

The love of pain seems to be a common theme with riders at the event, but not everyone is here to hurt themselves. Cyclist talks to a couple of old boys, Roy and Dave, who first watched this race back in the 1950s. For them, there is one simple reason that people come in such numbers to race the Catford Hill Climb.

‘It’s the oldest, ain’t it?’

Cyclist is proud to sponsor the Catford Hill Climb. For more information about this year's event, click here.

Light is right

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Image 15 of 18

I had a mate shock blast and chop the ends off of some Ritchey bars, which are super-light, and I’ve attached button shifters underneath the bars,’ says Jon Saunders of Charlotteville Cycling Club before pausing to regain his breath.

Saunders has, like many competitors, thrown the UCI 6.8kg limit out the window in pursuit of the lightest possible hill climb bike.

‘I opted for a Cannondale SuperSix frame with a set of Enve rims built onto Chris King hubs, with a 22mm front and 25mm rear Continental tubular tyre,’ he says. ‘I then fitted THM carbon crank arms, which are just 230g, with a 36t 1x chainset. The remainder of the groupset is second-hand Sram Red eTap.

‘To finish off, I have some Garmin Vector pedals, Planet X Forge brakes, KMC gold chain and a carbon saddle and seatpost that I found on eBay. All in, it weighs in at a slither over 5.5kg.’

Such a mean hill-climbing machine should help to produce a time worthy of at least the top 10 – unless, like Saunders, you forget to charge your gear batteries and are forced to ride the entire hill in the 36/13 gear.

‘I raced it anyway, although I almost came to a standstill on the very steepest section.’

Pictures snatched from the roadside during the 2019 Deloitte Ride Across Britain 
(lead image from a previous edition of the Ride Across Britain)

Part I: Land's End to Ludlow  
Part II: Ludlow to Edinburgh

From Ludlow in Shropshire to just outside Edinburgh, updates and Instax photos from the middle three days of the Ride Across Britain.

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Image 2 of 4

Day 4, Ludlow to Haydock - 172km, 954m

Following a soggy evening, the fourth morning sees us released onto still wet roads. Instantly on farm tracks carrying little traffic, the day starts with a climb before skirting beside the volcanic looking Stiperstones Hill.

With today featuring the least climbing of the trip, from here it’s a case of ticking off the kilometres. Watched over by curious sheep, first we cross waterways packed with narrowboats, before heading over the grand Manchester Ship Canal. High enough for craft with full-size masts, the road across is vertiginously high.

Through the outskirts of Manchester, following a damp few hours in the saddle the weather improves, and by the early evening I’m drinking a pint and sunburning my nose on the terrace at Haydock racecourse.

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Image 3 of 4

Day 5, Haydock to Carlisle - 187km, 1694m

There’s no need for an alarm this morning, the rain wakes me up at 04:30. Struggling to remain chipper as I pull on my wet kit, I decide to get an early start.

Out through the grey suburbs, as we reach the Lake District the weather clears and the scenery opens up. With the hedgerows blown away and replaced by dry stone walls, the feeling of travelling up the country hits me for the first time.

Swirling around, the blustery wind seems to be mostly coming from behind us. Making good time, it’s lifting both my mood and average speed.

Two-thirds in and facing Shap Fell, the tallest point of the ride, the wind is still pushing me onwards. High and wild at the top, the gusts stay favourable for the way home too.

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Image 4 of 4

Day 6, Carlisle to Hopetoun Estate - 171km, 1373m

You can tell we’re getting close to the border because the oldest farmhouses have arrow slits in their walls to help deter marauding Reivers.

Soon across and into Scotland, no one can resist a picture with the sign declaring that we’re leaving the English leg of our trip behind. Again pretty raw, we soon find ourselves racing up a valley along an abandoned A-road that the rain has left more akin to a log flume at a water park.

With the mist hugging the surrounding high ground, I spend most of the morning concentrating on the wheels in front of me. Through the Lowther Hills and toward the River Clyde, the sun finally burns through the clouds before we reach our base for the night in the grounds of Hopetoun House estate.

Everyone feeling this a red letter day, the camp bar is doing brisk trade.

Deloitte Ride Across Britain takes place from 7^th to 15^thSeptember, for more information visit the Ride Across Britain website.

This September, the UCI Road World Championships will visit the UK for the first time since 1982 as Yorkshire plays host to the world's best riders. Along with the pro races, Human Race Events and the UCI have teamed up to run a one-off sportive, which will give everyday riders the chance to take on some of the same roads as the pros.

Joining Cyclist for an exclusive look at the route were Olympic track champion Dani Rowe – an ambassador for the event – along with Simon Warren - whose 100 Climbs books will be familiar to many readers, and riders from the Yorkshire Lass Cycling Club.

Back in the winter, on a cold and blustery day just before February's temperatures crept up to record-breaking levels, the long route was tackled from its planned starting point in Harrogate.

The North Yorkshire town will be the centre of proceedings when the UCI World Championships start this weekend, as it plays host of the finishing circuit for each Worlds race, repeating the honour it enjoyed thanks to the visit of the 2014 Tour de France.

Yorkshire 2019 UCI Road World Championships sportive: Key information

Date: Sunday 22nd September 2019  
Entries: Long route sold out, more tickets released for medium and short    
Number of participants: Capped at 5,000  
Find out more and enter: worlds.yorkshire.com/sportive  
Routes and distances: Click here to jump to maps and profiles

The Harrogate finishing circuit itself is typical Yorkshire: continuously up and down, with long drags and shorter, much sharper ramps that will sap the legs of any rider. The Elite women's road race will tackle the circuit three times while the men face seven loops.

In the men's race, expect to see the ascents prove too short for out-and-out climbers while being too steep for the likes of Marcel Kittel and Mark Cavendish. After a full year without 'his' rainbow jersey, the Harrogate circuit looks like prime territory for Peter Sagan to lay the foundations for a fourth win in five years.

Tackled at the start of the preview ride – thankfully only once – the climb set the tone for a tough day on lag-sapping, grippy roads. The circuit also contains some technical descents with sharps bends, so keep an eye on the pro races when the time comes for anyone switching off for just a second and finding themselves hurtling into the hay bails.

Greenhow, more like Green Hell

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Image 1 of 33

For anyone who's ridden the most recent edition of the Tour de Yorkshire Ride sportive, some of the highlights of the route will be familiar, in particular Greenhow Hill. Although to call it a highlight will be very much a matter of opinion when the time comes.

Straight out of Pately Bridge at around 37km on the long route, the first and steepest part of the climb rears up in front of you at a gradient well into double figures.

But even once the gradient calms down it hardly flattens out and the climb goes on at varying steepness for another 4km. The circa 10% average over the whole climb actually belies its difficulty, especially with so much of the route left to cover.

Even once the climb is done there's little chance to rest as you fight the wind over the exposed moor.

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Image 12 of 33

Easier second climb, but in no way easy

Rolling roads then account for the distance to the next main climb of the long route, Kidstones Pass. Coming at 70km, around half the distance of the long route is now covered and every preceding kilometre is felt in the legs as the road heads upwards.

If you can, make the most of the scenery here (and for the whole ride, of course) as the road winds between drystone walls and proper Yorkshire moorland. It's views like this that make us urban-dwelling riders realise what we're missing out on with our park laps and busy A roads.

If you can't make the most of it then that might be because you're wondering where the road goes and how long until the top.

Dropped early by Dani and Simon, I made my way up the climb solo. From a distance, it had appeared that the road hit some dangerously steep gradients to get over the ridge, but halfway up a glance to my right showed two bicycle helmets just visible over the top of a wall, moving away up a distinctly manageable incline.

The main road, it turned out, actually swung to the right at a lower gradient before a plateau. The intimidating lane ahead turned out to be a gated, gravel farm track.

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Image 24 of 33

After around 95km, our numbers were swelled by three members of the Yorkshire Lass Cycling Club. Formed after the founder felt intimidated when riding with an existing club in the area, the club has proved so popular with women in the county that they've had to close membership and start a waiting list.

The club is also popular with local pros and talk between the members and Dani Rowe soon turned to mutual friends from her days on the track and in the peloton.

The lasses may have joined for only the final 50km, but they still didn't have an easy ride – this is Yorkshire, after all. Out of Masham (you don't pronounce the 'h' apparently) came Hackfall Hill.

It doesn't look like much on the profile (see below) when compared to Greenhow and Kidstones but its place in the route and its variable gradients with false flats make it a challenge.

At least three times I thought I was at the top and wasn't, which didn't help.

Traffic management on the day will be key

From here it's just a matter of riding back to Harrogate. Once out of the lanes and onto the main roads there's the potential for the ride to end on a less than pleasant note.

Finishing the preview on a Wednesday when schools are closing and people are driving walkable distances to collect their children is a much different prospect to a Sunday during the World Championships when Yorkshire will be gripped by cycling fever.

However, the organisers will need to ensure efficient traffic management to make certain that riders enjoy the final 5-10km as much as the preceding distance. With as much experience as the Human Race Events team has, I'm confident this will be the sorted.

A fully closed road starting and finishing circuit would be ideal, but that will require support from (and probably a sizeable payment to) the local authorities, which might not be practical for a one-off prestige event such as this. A low traffic alternative is likely to work well enough.

However the last part of the route looks come the day of the event, riders will be certain to reach the end with aching legs but smiles on their faces after a fantastic ride out on a route that showcases some of Britain's best cycling roads.

Following the original publication of this preview, event organiser Human Race Events confirmed at the time of the ballot launch that the route will take in the closed road circuit - a feature of the professional course - and then head off into the Yorkshire Dales for up to 145km.

Yorkshire 2019 World Championships sportive: Routes and profiles

Long - 145.2km/1909m

As previewed

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Image 29 of 33

Medium - 97.7km/1300m

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Short - 72.1km/916m

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Cyclist gets a closer look at the terrain that will decide this year’s UCI Road World Championships. 
This article is in the current issue of Cyclist magazine, on sale now

Words Jack Elton-Waters Photography Alex Wright

The crowds cheering the peloton at the 2014 Tour de France were some of the biggest and most enthusiastic the race had ever seen. But it wasn’t the roads of the Alps or Pyrenees that the fans were massed along. It was the moors and lanes of Yorkshire.

Five years ago, during what Tour chief Christian Prudhomme proclaimed as ‘the grandest Grand Départ’, Yorkshire showed the world of cycling how to host its biggest event.

Since then the Tour de Yorkshire men’s and women’s races have built on that success, establishing themselves at the top of the UK’s racing calendar – to the extent that this year the men’s Tour de Yorkshire was given elite 2.HC status for the first time. There has also been talk of the 2021 Vuelta a Espana starting here too.

More immediately, though, Yorkshire will host this year’s UCI Road World Championships, which run for a week from this Sunday 22nd September. It hasn’t been entirely smooth sailing getting here thanks to the controversy around and ongoing investigations into former Welcome to Yorkshire boss Sir Gary Verity.

Yet the county’s reputation as a top cycling destination remains unmatched in the UK, making it the ideal venue for the first Worlds to be held in this country since 1982.

‘Where else would you rather be?’ says my riding companion for today, Andy Hindley – and not for the first time – as stunning view after stunning view unfolds before us as we ride.

Andy is originally from neighbouring Lancashire (although he lives in Hampshire these days), so he knows what he’s talking about. He’s also the head of Yorkshire 2019, the organisation charged with making sure the Worlds run smoothly.

Andy is my guide for a route that will take in the highlights of the Worlds’ courses, and he clearly sees Yorkshire as almost unrivalled for its beauty – and brutality, which I’m discovering as we puff to the top of yet another hill.

No amount of effort can spoil his jovial mood, however, as he is plainly enjoying the rare chance to forget about the logistics of hosting a major sporting  event and just enjoy a day in the saddle.

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Image 5 of 14

Shooting the breeze

Despite sunny skies, a strong wind has knocked a few degrees off the ambient temperature and we’re glad of the extra layers we started the day in.

The main A59 Skipton Road takes us clear of Harrogate and the local circuit that will feature at the end of four of the five road races, and turning out of the stiff headwind and away from the weekday morning traffic is very welcome as we head north towards Glasshouses and Pateley Bridge.

Our route combines parts of several of the Worlds courses, and will see us covering around 100km, starting and finishing in Harrogate.

I decide to cover the sensitive subject of the Gary Verity situation early on, but Andy brushes it aside just as quickly. ‘He was on the board, now he’s not,’ he tells me, and there we leave it.

His brevity is explained by the clear division between the annual Tour de Yorkshire and the once-in-a-generation visit of the World Championships.

Although both are promoted and assisted by Welcome to Yorkshire, which necessitates some crossover between them, there’s still a clear division between the organising committees for the respective events. It means that preparation for the Worlds has been largely unaffected by the media spotlight that has fallen on Verity in recent months.

The market town of Pateley Bridge leads to the imposing Greenhow Hill, a climb I’ve ridden before on the Tour de Yorkshire sportive and during a preview ride ahead of the launch of the official World Championships sportive, so I’m relieved when we leave the town by a different road. But my relief is short-lived, because it turns out Greenhow may actually be the ‘easy’ way out of the area.

What awaits instead is Lofthouse, a punishing 4.5km climb with pitches at over 20%. A glance at Strava shows a 6% average gradient for the whole segment, but that is deceptively benign thanks to a short descent that follows the initial slopes.

From there, the climb proper kicks in and gains altitude relentlessly all the way to the summit. The only consolation is that Lofthouse is the biggest climbing test we’ll encounter all day.

We make our way up wishing for an extra sprocket, and the steepest parts of the climb require a bit of zig-zagging just to keep the wheels turning. Fortunately there are no marauding motorists coming the other way.

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Image 7 of 14

Hotbed of cycling

Cycling events in Yorkshire have introduced the wider world to a wonderful place to ride a bike, but for many this is something they already knew.

The number of pros who have emerged from this part of the country speaks volumes for its credentials as a proving ground to prepare riders for the rigours of racing on the Continent.

Currently at the top of that list of riders is 20-year-old Tom Pidcock, who has proved to be a sensation both in cyclocross and on the road.

Despite a recent crash, he should go in to his home World Championships as favourite for the U23 time-trial and road race, an opportunity he describes as ‘once in a lifetime’.

‘I’m sure it’s going to be one of the best, if not the best, Worlds of my career, including everything I do in the future,’ Pidcock said when asked about the prospect of riding the Yorkshire Worlds a few months ago.

Pidcock’s main rivals at the Worlds will likely be the Belgians. Flemish riders excel in the Classics thanks to the amount of time they spend fighting the wind and punching up short, steep climbs in conditions very similar to those encountered in Yorkshire. As I am discovering.

The views from Lofthouse’s summit are impressive, showing off the rolling hills of Yorkshire to their best effect, although I doubt the world’s best female riders will be paying much attention to the scenery when they arrive here during the road race.

For them, a cattle grid across the road will be the signal that they’ve reached the top. They’ll then be faced with a short section of exposed moorland followed by a fast, technical descent that could easily see a small group escape the peloton and stay clear until the finish.

Indeed, the sweeping turns on the downhill could prove a boon for Yorkshire’s farmers thanks to the sheer number of straw bales that will likely be needed to catch riders who overcook the corners.

Anyone with serious designs on a podium place in the elite women’s race will do well to ride this section of the route ahead of time to get an idea of what to expect – wisdom that Andy can confirm at least one pre-race favourite has already heeded.

‘There’s one short ramp on the climb out of Lofthouse that’s over 17%, and it’s going to be telling for the women,’ he says. ‘There’s nothing like an Alpine climb, but what the roads are is brutally hard and relentless.

‘The route is up and down, up and down, and when they get to that 17% ramp it’s just going to split the field apart, so it will be tough. I know that Lizzie Deignan has ridden that climb at least 10 times.’

An additional hazard we’ve had to keep an eye out for today are the sheep that roam the fields either side of the descent. However, Andy assures me a plan is in place to make sure these are kept grazing elsewhere during the Worlds.

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Point of no return

After negotiating the Lofthouse descent, the women’s race will head back to Harrogate for three laps of the local circuit, and Andy predicts the entry point to this circuit could mark the end of the road for some on the day.

‘It’s a relatively fast transition from the top of the climb down to the circuit, and with the circuit being 14km long we’re talking 17 to 18 minutes per lap. That sounds like a long time but it won’t take much for some of the field to get that far behind the frontrunners.

If that’s the case they won’t get onto the circuit at all because the rules don’t allow for them to be lapped – they’ll be eliminated.’

For us, however, the next stop is the town of Masham and lunch at the Black Sheep Brewery. Masham’s location in North Yorkshire makes it an ideal base for any number of routes exploring the wider area, with plenty of challenging climbs in close proximity – both famed ascents from pro races and other, lesser-known tests.

With those climbs in mind, I can’t decide whether our hearty lunch at the brewery’s cafe counts as valuable fuel or worthless ballast, but it’s delicious all the same.

Once we’re back on the route it takes a while to reacquaint our bodies with the sensation of turning the pedals. Despite the main climb now being behind us, there’s no easy way of getting back to Harrogate.

Each ramp and incline saps my legs in a way that could prove terminal to the hopes of any rider who has gone too early or is struggling to stay with a lead group – presuming they too haven’t simply lingered too long at the Black Sheep Brewery.

Coming at the end of both the men’s and women’s races, the circuit around Harrogate will represent a fresh test before the finish line. The men will take on its ramps and technical descents seven times, while the women and under-23 men face three circuits.

Luckily for us, we don’t have to do any circuits – our route got the punishment over and done with at the start of the ride. We can simply cruise through the streets and imagine how they will look when the circus arrives at the end of September.

Only time will tell whether Pidcock, Deignan and co will still be in the hunt for gold by this point in their respective events. But whatever happens, it’s sure to be another unique chapter in the continuing tale of Yorkshire’s relationship with the sport of cycling.

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Image 8 of 14

Hello Worlds

Ride the roads that will decide this year’s World Championships

To download this route, go to cyclist.co.uk/92worlds. You won’t be able to do all of the World Championships local loop in Harrogate as part of it goes the wrong way through the one-way system, but once clear of that head out of Harrogate west on Otley Road before swinging north and then east back into Harrogate.

That little loop done, take the A59 west but turn right off it for the lanes through Kettlesing Bottom, Darley and Summerbridge. Next you’ll be in Pateley Bridge preparing to take on the main event of the day: the climb of Lofthouse.

If you can still see straight when you get there, make the most of the views from the top before the roll into Masham. From here the route takes you south, past the stunning Fountains Abbey and along Hebden Bank towards the interestingly named Killinghall, from where you’ll soon be back to where you started.

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Image 14 of 14

The rider’s ride

Specialized Venge Pro, £6,500, specialized.com

The Venge Pro might be the second tier in Specialized’s renowned aero race bike range but it’s built around the exact same frameset as the top-end S-Works version. The main difference is the spec, and anyone who claims to be able to tell the difference between Shimano’s Ultegra Di2 and Dura-Ace Di2 groupsets is kidding themselves, if you ask me.

This Pro model delivers almost as polished a performance on the road as the flagship bike, and with a good chunk of cash saved. The only real concession in spec is a shallower (50mm not 64mm as per the S-Works) carbon wheelset, but I actually welcomed that for Yorkshire’s crosswinds, which they dealt with superbly.

And despite being Specialized’s aero race bike, the light and stiff Venge proved to be an adept climber. My pedalling inputs were met with a punchy response, helping me up steep inclines and then giving me the confidence to sweep back down the steep, technical descents.

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How we did it

Travel

Cyclist travelled by train to Harrogate from London Kings Cross via a change at Leeds, which took three hours. Tickets and bike reservation can be booked in advance – we paid £30 for an advance single ticket.

Accommodation

We stayed at the Yorkshire Hotel in Harrogate (the-yorkshire.co.uk), a high-quality hotel in the heart of this historic town that ensured a good night’s rest ahead of a long bike ride. Two nights’ accommodation and a decent pre-ride breakfast at The Yorkshire Hotel set us up perfectly for a day in the saddle. Expect to pay from £80pn for a double room, although prices are higher and availability is limited during the Worlds.

Thanks

Thanks to Lauren and Nick at Welcome to Yorkshire (yorkshire.com), who made the whole trip come together and worked out the route, as well as arranging our accommodation and lunch stop.

Our appreciation also goes to Andy from Yorkshire 2019 (worlds.yorkshire.com), who took a day out of the office to be my ride guide and didn’t complain about riding the steepest part of Lofthouse more than once for the sake of the photos – likewise his colleague Josh, who drove the support car for our photographer.

Our thanks also go to Black Sheep Brewery for the excellent mid-ride lunch and The Ivy in Harrogate for a top-notch evening meal afterwards.

With Primoz Roglic becoming the first Slovenian, former ski jumper to win the Vuelta a Espana at the weekend, this year’s three Grand Tours are all done and dusted.

A depressing thought as it signals that the pro cycling season is almost over with the three biggest stage races having already reached their conclusion. Before we know it, we will all be counting down the days in our calendar till the Tour Down Under and those riveting races around the Emirati desert.

So as a final hurrah before it's all forgotten about for next year, Cyclist thought it should geek out and do some number-crunching to tell you which bike brands had better Grand Tour years than Pinarello, which groupset celebrated its first-ever Grand Tour stage win and that rim brakes are still en vogue with the pro peloton.

Brilliant bikes and how to win on them

Despite having 62 attempts and even winning the Tour de France overall, Team Ineos was unable to provide Pinarello with a single Grand Tour stage victory all year.

That means that bike brands Bottechia, Eddy Merckx, De Rosa, BH, Orbea and Kuota all saw their bikes cross the line of a Grand Tour first more times than the famous Pinarello brand in 2019.

No prizes for guessing which bike brand did best over the three races.

Providing both Deceuninck-QuickStep and Bora-Hansgrohe with bikes, Specialized can account 14 stage wins in 2019 which equates to a mighty 22% of all Grand Tour stages raced this year.

The American giant is some way ahead of second-best Bianchi which returns to Italy with eight wins and a Vuelta overall victory, too.

An impressive tally, however, especially considering its bikes are only raced on by Jumbo-Visma and that a Bianchi bike stood on the podium of every Grand Tour this season, too. Some season they had this year.

The third spot proved a tie between German direct-to-market giant Canyon and Ridley with both managing a healthy six stage wins throughout the year - although Canyon did take a Grand Tour overall - pipping Argon 18 and Scott who take home five.

The only other brands to secure multiple stage successes were Colnago (4), Lapierre, Cervelo and Merida (all 2). Trek, Bottechia, Eddy Merckx, De Roda, BH, Orbea, Kuota and Cannondale managed a solitary one.

Another notable brand that leaves without a stage win from 2019's Grand Tours is Giant. Despite being a behemoth of a bike brand, one of the biggest in the world in fact, the orange-clad CCC boys were unable to bring home any bacon.

Top Grand Tour bikes of 2019

1- Specialized (Deceuninck-QuickStep and Bora-Hansgrohe), 14 wins
2- Bianchi (Jumbo-Visma), 8 wins
3 - Canyon (Movistar and Katusha-Alpecin), 6 wins
3 - Ridley (Lotto-Soudal), 6 wins
5 - Argon 18 (Astana), 5 wins
5 - Scott (Mitchelton-Scott), 5 wins

Which groupsets did best?

It’s no surprise that one groupset manufacturer dominates proceedings.

In 2019, Shimano was driven to 42 Grand Tour stage victories across 62 contested stages. That comprised of 13 wins at the Giro d’Italia, 15 wins at the Tour de France and 14 wins at the Vuelta a Espana.

Two of those wins came from non-WorldTour teams (Fausto Masnada of Androni Giocattoli-Sidermec took Stage 6 at the Giro and Mikel Iturria of Euskadi Basque Country-Murias was first on Stage 11 at the Vuelta) while the remaining 40 were provided by the ‘big 18’.

In total, the Japanese component giant accounted for 66% of Grand Tour stage wins this year.

Considering that 66% of WorldTour teams ride Shimano groupsets, it would suggest that the brand had an average year in terms of wins across the three big races although it did win two of the Grand Tours overall.

Second up was Campagnolo. Providing three WorldTour teams (UAE-Team Emirates, Movistar and Lotto-Soudal), it saw a solid return of 17 stage wins which accounted for 26% of victories.

Like Shimano, Campagnolo also benefited from two non-WorldTour wins in the shape of Damiano Cima’s Stage 18 Giro win and Jesus Herrada’s Stage 6 Vuelta win.

Sram was the last of the big three. While it only provides Katusha-Alpecin and Trek-Segafredo with groupsets in the WorldTour, we still expect the American brand to be disappointed that both teams could only muster a win a piece. It left Sram with on 3% of Grand Tour stage wins for 2019.

Sram and Campagnolo’s success also meant that the first 12-speed cassette experienced Grand Tour glory: 17 times (two Campagnolo victories came on 11-speed groupsets) notching it up to 12 was what it took to roll across a stage finish line first.

Lastly, a huge shoutout to FSA. Thanks to Angel Madrazo of Burgos-BH trying really hard on the stage to Javalambre at the Vuelta, the Taiwanese brand saw its groupset earn its first Grand Tour stage win and, therefore, 1.5% of the year’s wins.

Top groupsets of 2019

1 - Shimano (Deceuninck-QuickStep, Bora-Hansgrohe, AG2R La Mondiale, Astana, Bahrain-Merida, Jumb-Visma, Groupama-FDJ, Mitchelton-Scott, Education First, Team Sunweb, Euskadi Basque Country-Murias and Androni Giocattoli-Sidermec
2 - Campagnolo (Movistar, UAE-Team Emirates, Lotto-Soudal, Cofidis, Nippo-Vini Fantini), 17 wins
3 - Sram (Trek-Segafredo and Katusha-Alpecin), 2 wins
4 - FSA (Burgos-BH), 1 win

To disc or not to disc

Believe what bike brands sell you and you’ll believe that rim brakes are dead and only disc will do. Not if you are a professional bike rider at a Grand Tour, however.

Only 19 Grand Tour stages were won by riders on disc brakes in 2019 which accounts for 32% in total.

Look even further and you will notice that 14 of those were thanks to one bike brand, Specialized, who only provided disc-equipped bikes to its two teams, Deceuninck-QuickStep and Bora-Hansgrohe, in 2019.

The remaining 43 stages were all snapped up by those riding regular rim brake bike.

Obviously, you cannot really draw parallels between the world of a pro riding in a Grand Tour and Kevin who commutes 12 miles to work every day, so the fact rim brakes seem to be the weapon of choice for most pros is irrelevant to your usual punter.

With disc brakes - 19 wins
Without disc brakes - 43 wins

There were 62 contested Grand Tour stages in 2019 after Stage 19 of the Tour de France was neutralised and then cancelled

Pictures snatched from the roadside during the 2019 Deloitte Ride Across Britain 
(lead image from a previous edition of the Ride Across Britain)

Words and photographyJoseph Delves  
Part I: Land's End to Ludlow | Part II: Ludlow to Edinburgh | Part III: Edinburgh to John O’Groats

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Image 2 of 4

Day 7, Hopetoun Estate to Strathdon - 180km, 2144m

After crossing the span of the Forth Bridge, the scenery gets more exposed as we traverse the Grampians, then head into the Cairngorms via the climb of Glenshee. Coming on slowly, it takes a while to get on top of, even with a favourable breeze. The second of the ride’s three big climbs, racing down, it feels as if we’re now in the high mountains proper.

To Braemar, then along the River Dee, the terrain is windswept, and birds of prey circle above us. Despite being warned about them, the day’s last two climbs catch me out, and I’ve not kept enough in reserve to do anything but crawl up.

For the first time, my body is refusing to play along, and I start to worry about what I’ll feel like tomorrow. Like most riders, I’m very happy when we reach the Highland Games Field at Strathdon.

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Day 8, Strathdon to Kyle of Sutherland - 191km, 1985m

The longest day. Rolling by 6am, as the light increases enough to reveal the scenery, the earliest risers hit the Lecht. Like an ascent brought in from the Alps, it climbs over a thousand barren feet up to the eponymous ski station.

Coming from the side, the wind is leaning on me like a drunk on the night bus. It’s wild. By the next climb, it’s head-on and I can barely keep moving. Through areas familiar to whiskey drinkers, hours of slogging ensue, although by the time we hit Inverness at least there’s a rainbow.

With the wind now behind us, the miles tick down, until cresting one last hill it swings around and starts slinging hail in my face. Just making it home, as I get in the weather turns, leaving everyone still out to battle heavy rain and rising wind.

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Day 9, Kyle of Sutherland to John O’Groats - 168km, 1384m

The last leg. Scared what the wind might do to the chances of me making my transfer, I leave while it’s still dark. Far north, the pale sun takes an age to rise. As it gets light I find myself with one other rider on a high plain.

With the wind coming across us at over 80kmh, we have to stand on the pedals to make progress. After a couple of slow hours, we drop into the more sheltered Strathnaver Valley. Having got my obligatory shot of a highland cow, on hitting the coast, huge waves are being driven into the cove at Bettyhill.

Swinging around 90 degrees, we’re now pushed on at well over 32kmh without pedalling, and my worries about reaching the finish line in time vanish. Blown the final third of the way, the tailwind makes everyone feel superhuman.

When the finish comes into view, after 1580km, nine days, and rolling the entire length of the country, it seems incredible that tomorrow I won’t be getting back on my bike.

Deloitte Ride Across Britain takes place from 7th to 15th September, for more information visit the Ride Across Britain website.

With the 2019 UCI World Championships soon to start in Yorkshire, Cyclist columnist Felix Lowe looks back at the men's race - and the wider world - the last time it visited British shores, when the best riders did laps of Goodwood in 1982. This article is in the current issue of Cyclist magazine - on sale now

Words Felix Lowe Illustration Clear As Mud

When Beppe Saronni motored to the rainbow stripes at glorious Goodwood, ‘Eye Of The Tiger’ was top of the charts, having dethroned ‘Come On Eileen’ the day before.

Yes, it really has been that long since the UCI World Championships have been held in Britain. In the 37 years since then, Italy has had the honour of hosting the Worlds six times, Spain five, Switzerland and Austria three, and France, Belgium, Germany, Norway, the Netherlands and the USA twice, with single outings in Portugal, Japan, Colombia, Canada, Australia, Denmark and (sigh) Qatar.

Admittedly, back then Britain wasn’t the cycling powerhouse it is now. In 1982, we couldn’t even have dreamed of three different Brits winning the Tour de France in six years. Professional cycling was just a curiosity, and the best Tour finish we could boast was still Tom Simpson’s sixth place from two decades earlier. Future World Champions Mark Cavendish and Lizzie Deignan hadn’t even been born yet.

In the early 1980s we were much stronger in a different field of excellence – one we have since become abject failures in: the Eurovision Song Contest. In 1981, Britain swept all before it with the mighty ‘Making Your Mind Up’ by Bucks Fizz, meaning that, come 1982, Eurovision was hosted in the UK. And the venue chosen to welcome the cream of European singing talent was… Harrogate.

Fast-pedal forward 37 years and Harrogate is back on the map – this time in the latest chapter of Yorkshire’s bid to become the only cycling destination in the country worth talking about. Current World Champion Alejandro Valverde was only two years old when the Worlds were last in Britain, and it was a different world back then.

1982 was the year of the first computer virus, the invention of ciabatta bread, Ben Kingsley’s Oscar for Ghandi and ABBA’s last public performance. Adrian Mole wrote his first diary (aged 13¾), the Falklands War raged for 10 weeks, PM Maggie Thatcher presided over record unemployment and we all needed some cheering up, hence E.T. being the highest-grossing film.

It was also the year Michael Jackson released Thriller, sales of which were boosted by the invention of something many younger readers won’t understand: the compact disc (you know – those flat silvery things that hang from trees in allotments).

Months before the cycling world headed to Goodwood, Aston Villa – whose most famous fan, Prince William, was born in the interim – beat Bayern Munich in the European Cup final. And while Bernard Hinault was busy winning a fourth Tour de France in July, Italy were wrapping up the football World Cup.

Then came the men’s road race on 5th September – the same day that Sir Douglas Bader, RAF flying ace during World War II despite losing both legs in an aerobatics crash in 1931, shuffled off this mortal coil.

Held over 18 laps of a 9.5-mile circuit (no foreign kilometres in those days), taking in the Goodwood racecourse and the South Downs, the men’s race was remembered for the meltdown between two American rivals. When Jacques Boyer attacked on the final rise to the line, it was 21-year-old Greg LeMond who led the chase – inadvertently leading out the Italian Saronni for the victory.

Giuseppe Saronni winning the 1982 Worlds. Photo: Offside/L'Equipe

Oh well. Boyer probably wouldn’t have won anyway, and back then the Americans were in it for themselves since their highest-placed rider in the Worlds automatically became national champion. So LeMond got second place (ahead of Sean Kelly) but still won something. He would go on to win the first of two rainbow jerseys a year later.

After a 37-year hiatus for Britain from cycling’s blue riband event, it won’t be a case of ‘Goodbye, cruel Worlds’ for long. Given that money now makes the Worlds go round, it’s no surprise to see Britain getting the nod again soon – with Glasgow hosting the inaugural combined cycling World Championships in 2023.

Alas, there won’t be much scope for a rose-tinted look back at today’s Love Island-drenched popular culture. Heck, Brexit will probably still be going on in four years…

The world of cycling is obsessed with weight because being lighter frequently means riding faster, especially up hills. But dieting can be hard and lightweight kit is expensive, so we wanted to know whether you should focus your gram-shedding efforts on your bike or your body for the maximum performance payback. 

The simple answer is, there is no simple answer.

‘From a physics perspective, they’re equally beneficial,’ says Damon Rinard, former senior cycling technologist at Cervélo.

‘The choice is a false dichotomy: you can do both. It’s allowed. For me, a lighter bike has always had the advantage that the weight stays off.’

Of course, there’s a point at which losing bodyweight will make you slower on the bike.

‘It happened to me when I was racing,’ says ABCC senior coach Ian Goodhew. ‘It was at around 65kg that I started to lose performance.

'But that figure is going to be different for everyone. Take Chris Froome – he can lose a ridiculous amount of weight and still be really good at time-trials.’

There is a formula for bodyweight vs performance that is too complex to go into here, but Greg Whyte, professor of applied sport and exercise science at Liverpool John Moores University, agrees with Goodhew that there is ‘a high individual variation’.

Whyte says, ‘Power is only lost when muscle mass is reduced. If weight loss is solely associated with body fat there will be no change in power output.

'The key measure is power-to-weight ratio. If power is maintained with weight loss, power-to-weight increases. The target should be to optimise power-to-weight, particularly when climbing – acting against gravity.

'When power-to-weight goes down, the weight loss is negative to performance.’

So perhaps it would be simpler to lose weight from your bike and not risk losing power from your body…

A feathery touch

A lighter bike could be the answer, but it’s probably going to be a pricey one. ‘Losing weight from the bike can reduce the overall weight of bike and rider and, therefore, increase your [overall] power-to-weight ratio,’ says Whyte.

‘But while stiffness and rigidity can be maintained at lower weight with carbon fibre, it does come at a significant financial cost. Plus, lighter products are often less robust.

‘Anything that results in a loss of power transfer will negatively impact performance,’ he adds. 'And rigidity is key to reducing loss of power. When losing weight we are always looking to reduce loss of rigidity in frame and wheels to optimise power transfer.’

The benefits, however, may not be as great as you hoped for, says Rinard.

‘The practical difference in weight of, say, your wheels is only a small fraction of the total system weight – bike plus rider – and the amount it affects rates of change of velocity [how fast we accelerate or decelerate] are very, very small.

'So the effect of light rims and tyres, though real, is so small as to become practically insignificant.’

There is another factor to consider: aerodynamics. ‘Aero nearly always beats light weight,’ says Rinard.

‘Assuming typical weight savings and aero improvements, aero is faster, even on climbs up to 5% for cycling enthusiasts, while pros are going fast enough that aero retains greater benefit on steeper climbs, up to 8%.’

So it seems that your money might be better spent in a wind-tunnel than on super-light carbon fibre components, but that’s getting off the point somewhat, and there are cheaper ways of managing the weight of your bike. 

‘A 500ml bidon weighs half a kilo,’ says Goodhew. ‘Many people carry two, and some people carry bigger 750ml bottles. Carrying an extra kilo on a long ride is going to hurt your performance.’

It’s not just fluid slowing you down. ‘There is a real contradiction these days,’ says Goodhew.

‘People are moving from mechanical gearsets to electronic, which are often heavier. There’s a way of saving weight right there.’ 

And do you need that saddlebag full of tools?

‘For short TT events there’s little value in carrying a repair kit as the race is essentially over if you get a puncture or malfunction,’ says Whyte.

‘For long races a repair kit is valuable, but I would always look to minimise weight by using a lightweight kit and gas rather than a pump.’

Goodhew adds, ‘If you have £1,000 to spend on upgrading your bike for racing, you’d be better off spending it on a soigneur to hand you a drink whenever you need one. You’ll save half a kilo that you won’t save any other way.’

All in the mind

There is a psychological element to finding your ideal weight, says Goodhew. ‘I know people who have put titanium bolts on their chainrings because they think it makes them lighter, and therefore faster. And it does make them faster, because they believe it does.

'This is a complex issue, scientifically, practically and emotionally. We are real people.’

Whyte agrees your money could be better spent elsewhere: ‘My advice is always to focus any financial investment on optimising the human engine before turning to the bike. A two-week training camp is invariably a better investment for performance than a carbon fibre widget that saves a few grams.’

Of course, based purely on numbers, you’re better off losing weight from yourself.

‘My bike weighs around 7.5kg,’ says Goodhew. ‘I weigh around 75kg, so the bike only accounts for less than 10% of the total weight.’

Ultimately, the optimum balance between the weight of rider and bike is individual to you – and your goals, says Whyte.

‘Time-trial riders on flat courses require optimisation of power output, with weight being less important.

'On the other hand an Etape du Tour rider with multiple major climbs requires an optimisation of power-to weight, so weight saving while maintaining power is the key to success.

'Regular assessment of power-to-weight with expert sport science support can be the difference between success and failure.’

The UCI World Championships are well underway and so far appear to have been a success. The Tour de Yorkshire saw the usual exciting racing in the women's and men's races back in May. All should be right with the world of cycling in Yorkshire. However, we've looked at why the Gary Verity expenses scandal could threaten Yorkshire’s place at the heart of cycling in the UK. This article is in the current issue of Cyclist magazine, which is on sale now

Words Richard Moore Photos Chris Auld; Offside/L'Equipe; Scenic View Gallery; Alex Wright; SWPix.com

On the evening of Friday 22nd March a proverbial bombshell went off in the relatively small world of British cycling. Sir Gary Verity, the man responsible for bringing the Grand Départ of the Tour de France to Yorkshire in 2014, who established the Tour de Yorkshire as a legacy event and played a major role in attracting the UCI World Championships to Yorkshire this year, was stepping down with immediate effect.

The timing of Verity’s sudden departure was explained a couple of days later by The Sunday Times, which had been preparing to run a story with allegations over Verity’s conduct at Welcome to Yorkshire, the tourism organisation where he was chief executive. The newspaper had put some questions to him on the Friday afternoon, and within a couple of hours he had gone.

Verity said he was quitting on health grounds – he had recently lost his sister, which had clearly been a stressful time.

Yet Welcome to Yorkshire said in the same statement that ‘concerns have been raised in relation to his behaviour towards staff and his expenses’, before adding, ‘The Board has investigated these and has concluded that Sir Gary made errors of judgement regarding his expenses at a very difficult time for him and his family. Sir Gary has agreed to voluntarily reimburse Welcome to Yorkshire for monies owed.’

Over the days and weeks that followed, further allegations emerged about Verity’s 11 years at Welcome to Yorkshire, many of them published by ‘Yorkshire’s National Newspaper’ (as its masthead boasts), The Yorkshire Post, which had previously – like so many others in the region and beyond – championed Verity for helping establish the area as a hotbed of cycle racing.

Crowds at the 2014 Tour de France in Yorkshire

Pride of the UK

It wasn’t just the calibre of the races themselves, but also the roadside support they attracted. Entire villages and towns lined the course for the Grand Départ, then also for the Tour de Yorkshire. Images beamed across the world showed a beautiful corner of the world completely smitten by the sport of cycling.

Those images, and Yorkshire’s burgeoning reputation as a British version of Flanders, went a long way to securing the World Championships’ return to the UK for the first time in 37 years.

Verity was at the centre of it all. A story in the Post in 2016, headlined ‘How Yorkshire took its place among cycling’s Premier League’, mentioned a £100 million boost to the local economy from the Tour and described him as ‘the man who put God’s Own Country firmly on the map as a world-class tourist destination.’

Since the Grand Départ in 2014, the Tour de Yorkshire has been run in tandem with ASO, the Tour de France organisers, while Verity’s role in attracting the World Championships was underlined in his speech during a presentation at the 2018 Worlds in Innsbruck.

He also attended the Vuelta a Espana and Javier Guillén, the race director, subsequently confirmed that a Yorkshire start for the Spanish tour was in the works, probably in 2021.

It now seems unlikely to happen at all and there must also be questions over the long-term future of the Tour de Yorkshire, an event whose existence appeared to have been built around Verity’s relationship with ASO and his personal friendship with Tour director Christian Prudhomme, as well as on funding from local authorities.

Many have been burned by the allegations of Verity’s misspending and largesse, and may now be reluctant to go on supporting it.

Some will wonder whether the World Championships, far from providing further proof of Yorkshire’s status as a cycling mecca, might prove to be the high water mark or even the last hurrah.

‘There’s been an emperor’s new clothes effect,’ says Susan Briggs, director of the Tourism Network, who has been vocal in her criticism since Verity stepped down.

She says she was never convinced that major cycle races brought the financial benefits that were claimed. ‘A huge number of businesses were told that the Tour de France and Tour de Yorkshire were good, and any dissenters were made to feel stupid.

‘I always questioned the figures and questioned the value. I think now a bit of the myth has been debunked.’

Yet not even Verity’s fiercest critics can deny the role he played in putting the county on the cycling map. David Behrens, a columnist at The Yorkshire Post, argued that ‘Verity’s faults do not cancel out his achievements’ in elevating his organisation and his region.

‘Yorkshire was placed on a world stage. Its wonderful landscape was exposed to the gaze of the airborne cameras that covered the cycle races as they threaded through its country roads.’

The issue is not what Verity did but how he did it. I got a sense of his modus operandi when I visited him at the Welcome to Yorkshire headquarters in Leeds in 2014, on the eve of the Grand Départ.

I was familiar with Edinburgh’s rival British bid to host the Tour de France, which was driven by Event Scotland, a government agency, and backed by British Cycling, UK Sport and the Department for Culture, Media and Sport (DCMS).

Welcome to Yorkshire – not a public body, importantly, but a private limited company – had no such support and beat the Edinburgh bid by overwhelming Prudhomme and ASO with charm and five-star hospitality. ‘We flew them by helicopter from London to my farm,’ said Verity. How did he pay for that, I asked. ‘I didn’t,’ he said.

The helicopter was loaned by a city friend. It landed on a giant yellow ‘Y’ mown in a field beside Verity’s farmhouse in Coverdale. He welcomed Prudhomme and colleagues with Yorkshire lager and Yorkshire pudding canapés, ‘then I got one of our Michelin-star chefs, Frances Atkins, to pop round and cook lunch.’

Then, in two stretch limos, the party was driven around the Dales. They stayed at Harewood House, where another Michelin-star chef, Simon Gueller, cooked dinner.

The charm offensive continued the next day with a stroll through Leeds city centre. As they crossed Millennium Square a big screen, which usually shows BBC News, went blank, then burst into life, showing a promotional film for Yorkshire’s bid. It ended with a personal plea from Mark Cavendish.

Later, as Verity walked Prudhomme through St Pancras to the Eurostar, the Tour director told him, ‘You have all the ingredients for a Grand Départ. We just need to learn how to make it a meal.’

‘I knew then,’ Verity told me in 2014, ‘that we’d nailed it.’

Tour de France chief Christian Prudhomme

Playing politics

But Verity’s bid involved a major gamble. He believed that if he ‘won’ the Grand Départ the public money allocated to the Edinburgh bid would be switched to Yorkshire. He had Yorkshire’s MPs on his side – or most of them – and eventually, with their support, was given the £10 million that was needed.

But for some it left a sour taste. Hugh Robertson, the sports minister, remarked that it had been ‘pretty extraordinary to have bid for an event without working out how the security is going to be paid for’.

‘We can’t argue that Yorkshire has become known as a cycling destination,’ says Briggs, ‘but we need to consider whether the public investment in big events is worthwhile.’

She makes a distinction between the Tour de Yorkshire – ‘a Gary Verity project’ – and the Tour de France or World Championships, which attract an audience ‘beyond the cycling crowd’.

Briggs isn’t opposed to such events, noting that as well as the marketing opportunities for tourism, they help galvanise communities and give people a sense of local pride.

‘It’s a small thing, but the bunting we see in Yorkshire for cycle races, a lot of it is knitted – people have given their time and their wool and small things like that have brought communities together.’

Welcome to Yorkshire isn’t involved in actually running the World Championships, which at least has helped keep the event itself out of the spotlight. The chief executive of Yorkshire 2019 is Andy Hindley, whose background is in sailing – he was chief operating officer at Ben Ainslie Racing and before that at the America’s Cup.

Hindley’s biggest headache in the run-up to the Worlds has been the collapse of Grinton Moor Bridge, which formed part of the men’s road race course, due to flooding. ‘We have a diversion in our back pocket,’ says Hindley of this hiccup, ‘But we hope we won’t need it.’

As we spoke the council was constructing a temporary bridge, which the UCI will have to approve before agreeing to include it on the route. But Hindley said he was confident that Plan A would – in contrast to Grinton Moor Bridge – remain in place.

Work to repair Grinton Moor Bridge back in August

Out in the open

When the Verity allegations became public and an investigation into the financial affairs of Welcome to Yorkshire was launched, Hindley expected questions. ‘But there haven’t been any,’ he says. ‘We prepared statements and I went back and checked all our financial records in case we were asked. But I’m not concerned if we’re asked questions. We have no worries on that side.

‘We’re wholly owned by UK Sport but funded by multiple sources,’ he says. ‘The Lottery, DCMS, British Cycling – they’re our main stakeholders, then we’ve also got the local authorities in Yorkshire.

‘We do work with Welcome to Yorkshire because they have a lot of expertise in the county and in running bike races. They’re one of our delivery partners.’

Asked whether the allegations surrounding Verity’s conduct and his extravagant spending, including of public money, had done damage locally to the perception of the sport, Hindley says, ‘I’d say no. You’ve got to remember Gary did some amazing things in getting the Tour here, then the Tour de Yorkshire subsequently.

‘He was on our board. He was a nominated director, one of 12. He wasn’t front and centre as he was with the Grand Départ and Tour de Yorkshire, though. We’ve had to go back and do some checking and reporting but beyond that it’s all had very little effect on us. I think there’s still a lot of positivity and support in Yorkshire.’

Hindley’s organisation will cease to exist after the World Championships: ‘We’ve been given one job,’ he says. ‘After that it will be wound up and anything left over will be handed back and we’ll all be looking for new jobs.'

For her part, Briggs would prefer Yorkshire 2019, or an organisation like it, to replace Welcome to Yorkshire as the organising body of bike races in the county. She says that unless that happens the public money will drain away from cycling events.

‘I spoke to a chief executive of a council in Yorkshire who put in a lot of money in the past. She said she’d be considering any further support in the future much more carefully,’ says Briggs.

On the possibility of Yorkshire 2019 existing beyond September to organise races, Hindley is open-minded. ‘No one has spoken to me directly about it. We’re wholly owned by UK Sport so you’d have to speak to them.

‘But there is an opportunity here – the company is already set up and it’s completely transparent in terms of its finances. Could it be taken on by someone else? Absolutely, and if anyone wants to speak to us about that they’re more than welcome to get in touch.’

Yorkshire 2019 boss Andy Hindley

Uncertain future

If the affair has cast a shadow over cycling in Yorkshire, it will likely clear while the Worlds are on. But beyond that, who knows what effect it will have?

Briggs says there is dwindling interest in the Tour de Yorkshire, while Welcome to Yorkshire claimed a global TV audience for this year’s race of 28 million – the highest yet. But in atrocious weather, the estimated 1.96 million roadside spectators was down from the claimed 2.6 million who turned out in 2018.

Even if races do disappear, Yorkshire might open up to others, such as the Tour of Britain, which has been discouraged, to put it mildly, from visiting the region. With Verity gone, that could change.

But the Vuelta? A return for the Tour? A year ago both seemed probable. Now, neither seems likely. But perhaps the biggest mystery of all surrounds the man who made so much of it happen in the first place.

When Verity strode on to the stage in Innsbruck a year ago to tell the world that the Yorkshire Worlds would be ‘the greatest ever’, who could have predicted he would be persona non grata when they actually got underway?

Worlds trump Le Tour

The Tour de France might loom bigger in the public consciousness, but the Worlds wins on numbers

It might be tempting to regard the Grand Départ of the Tour de France and the UCI World Championships as similar in terms of size and scale, with the Tour de France ahead on public awareness and global impact.

In terms of pure numbers, though, the Worlds dwarf the Tour. When the Tour came to Yorkshire in 2014, it stayed for two days. There were 22 teams and 198 riders. The duration of the World Championships is nine days.

There will be around 80 countries taking part – that’s 80 teams – and approximately 1,400 riders.

And whereas the entourage of a Tour de France team might be around 25-30, national teams can have many times that number of staff. ‘The Italian team is renowned for bringing a big entourage,’ says Hindley. ‘They had 150 people last year in Innsbruck.’

Then there are the spectators, of course. The target is 3.2 million over the nine days. ‘We’d be very pleased with that,’ says Hindley, adding that hotels in Harrogate and further afield have been booked up for months.

Cyclist: You were born into a family of keen cyclists. When did you start riding competitively?

Mandy Jones: I was very reluctant to ‘get to the start line’, as my dad said. Our club used to have a Wednesday night 10-mile time-trial on one of the local courses but I wouldn’t ride with everyone else. I was too embarrassed.

In the end he timed me on a different night to convince me. I think it was more being a teenager and not liking the thought of people watching me riding down the road.

Eventually I started doing more TTs and then road races. Then somebody in the club said to my parents that they thought I had a bit of talent and needed to ride more. I was 16 and it was only then that I actually started training.

Cyc: You rode in your first Road Race World Championship just two years later, in 1980 in Sallanches, France.

MJ: That was amazing, although in some ways it could have been quite overwhelming if it hadn’t been for the fact that all the girls knew each other as we frequently raced against each other.

Being at such a massive event was awe-inspiring – the size of the crowds and how many women were lined up at the start. I mean, in the UK you were lucky if there were 20 of you at the start.

Cyc: You were only 18 but took bronze on a very difficult course. What did that tell you about your potential and how did it focus your goals?

MJ: I was delighted with third. At the back of my mind was a conversation from school with a teacher who said I wasn’t trying hard enough with my schoolwork. She asked where I thought cycling was going to get me. Immediately I said, ‘I’m going to be World Champion.’

To this day I don’t know where that came from. Even I was shocked I’d said it, but I suppose I must have felt it was the ultimate aim.

When I got third at 18, on a course like Sallanches from a field of 80 women, it reaffirmed things for me. We already had a three-year plan in place because we knew Goodwood would be one of my best chances.

Cyc: What was your training regime? 

MJ: I was training with Ian Greenhalgh, who was a pro cyclist and my partner at the time. It wasn’t a specific regime for me. We did long rides in the Yorkshire Dales and some speed work behind a motorbike.

Most of it was based on doing a lot of climbing – I suppose it was almost like doing interval training, riding hard up the climbs and then easing off and freewheeling on the descents.

Cyc: At the 1982 Worlds you rode the pursuit in Leicester before the road race at Goodwood…

MJ: I’d set the 5km pursuit World Record at the same track earlier in the year and would have liked to have won the pursuit.

I loved that event but I’d trained behind the motorbike right up until a few days before – we didn’t understand about tapering – and so, when the pursuit came, I was knackered [Jones came seventh].

In the 10 days between the races I did no real training. That was my taper, so when it came to the road race I was flying.

Cyc: Did you know Goodwood was a circuit that would suit you?

MJ: Yes, although I could have done with the climb being harder – but obviously it all turned out fine. The motor racing circuit was very exposed, which meant that people could see you if you got away, and everyone expected me to get away on the climb because I was a decent climber.

Cyc: You actually escaped from a group of four on a descent at the start of the final lap…

MJ: The climb levelled off a bit around a right-hand turn before starting to descend. I went around that corner first and realised I had a little gap as they started to freewheel behind.

We were being chased, so I was working to keep us away, and when I saw I had a gap I just went for it. That is what you train for, to recognise and take those opportunities.

Cyc: And then you crossed the line as World Champion.

MJ: They weren’t far behind so I just had to bury myself. The crowds on either side were shouting my name and encouraging me. I was just euphoric really, mixed with a small feeling of disbelief.

To do it in my own country as well was great, because my parents were there and they wouldn’t have been able to come if it had been abroad.

Cyc: How did you react once you’d achieved the goal you’d been working towards for three years?

MJ: That was one of the biggest difficulties for me. We’d set this goal but we’d never talked about what would happen if I won. In my head, because I’d put my heart and soul into it, I was done.

I actually remember saying in an interview with Hugh Porter that I was having a year off. Of course, you can’t do that when you’ve got the rainbow jersey. ecause I’d switched off. I never really properly got back into it.

Cyc: You still won the Nationals the following year and managed fourth at the Worlds in Switzerland.

MJ: Yes, but if I’d trained as I had before I could have won again. My chain came off at the bottom of the climb that year and I’d been hit by a car two days before the race.

In hindsight I could have got away again had I trained as I had done for 1982. 

Cyc: Are you still involved in cycling these days?

MJ: Yes. I’m still with my local club and we run a mail-order cycling business. We’ve also organised the Etape du Dales for the Dave Rayner fund for the past six years, which is a rewarding experience.

It raises money for young riders to race abroad. It’s helped the likes of Dan Martin, Adam Yates and David Millar in the past.

Cyc: What do you make of the Worlds coming to Yorkshire?

MJ: It’s amazing how many people who are non-cyclists like to come and watch. The Tour de France start that we had and now the Tour de Yorkshire has brought cycling into a prominent position in people’s minds. They just love coming out to watch it, and the crowds are unbelievable. 

Cyc: Have you looked at the women’s course? Would the 20-year-old Mandy Jones have fancied her chances?

MJ: It’s a hard course, with a very tough climb up from Lofthouse and after that lots of ups and down before the tricky finishing circuit – ouch! It’s definitely a course I would have enjoyed.

Actually, ‘enjoyed’ is probably not the right word, but it would have suited my riding style.

Words: Joe Robinson Photography:Chris Auld

What a week, Yorkshire, what a week. The rain came, and devastation reigned as favourites Mathieu van der Poel, Lizzie Deignan, Tom Pidcock and Anna van der Breggen saw their chances dripping down the drain. 

It was instead a week for the likes of Mads Pedersen, Rohan Dennis, young Americans and Annemiek van Vleuten, cheered on by an army of fans lining the streets, determined no matter how bad the weather got.

It all started as we all expected. On a wet Sunday in Harrogate, a time trial won by the Dutch, this time the inaugural Mixed Relay Team Time Trial.

Three men, three women, those draped in orange were just too fast for the rest. Great Britain managed a brave third as Elisa Longo Borghini's mechanical broke Italian hearts.

Untimely mechanicals and riding off-course were not enough to stop Italy's Antonio Tiberi and Russia's Aigul Gareeva being crowned the respective men's and women's Junior Time Trial champions. Both oversaw adversity and misfortune to take their titles. 

Adversity was again the name of the game for the under-23 men as they tackled a waterlogged time trial from Ripon to Harrogate.

Hungary's Atilla Valter and Denmark's Johan Price-Pejtersen went viral as they caused a huge splash with their crashes on course but it was twice-defending champion Mikkel Berg who powered to an unprecedented third title.

For the elite women in the afternoon, the weather had improved although the atmosphere was suitably moody for the changing of the guard that took place.

At just 22-years-old, Chloe Dygert-Owen of the USA proved a world apart from the field, eventually beating Van Vleuten by 92 seconds. The Dutchwoman, however, would get her revenge.

There was no changing of the guard in the final time trial of the week as Rohan Dennis proved not racing for 10 weeks means little in the test against the clock.

He defended his rainbow title despite the controversy surrounding his clothing, bike and the fact - which nobody knew - that he was riding without a team for 2020.

Cheers of 'USA, USA' echoed around Harrogate and understandably so. It turns out they produce handy junior racers across the pond with both Quinn Simmons and Megan Jastrab winning the men's and women's events with ease.

Cheers, unfortunately, quickly turned to jeers as it seems any event the UCI is involved in cannot fail to contain a certain amount of controversy.

This time it was the decision to disqualify Nils Eekhoff of the Netherlands for drafting a team car during the Under-23 men's road race. The decision came after he had crossed the line with his arms aloft in the air.

The scenes of Eekhoff realising he was no longer champion were harrowing. Sure, what he did was against the rules of cycling and the disqualification, by the letter of the law, was justified.

But the fact that almost every professional bike rider has come down on the side of Eekhoff is telling.

Also, spare a thought for Samuele Battistella of Italy who replaced Eekhoff as champion as you have to think history may forget him.

A rare moment of sunshine shone down onto the elite women's road race. Deignan was afforded her moment in the sun, leading the race as it headed through her home town of Otley.

It was her only moment of glory on home roads, however, as the excitement got all too much for Deignan. She chased down any and every move, eventually blowing up as the race entered Harrogate. A valiant attempt by the home rider.

Somebody who did not let the excitement of the day get to her was Van Vleuten. Even when she found herself all alone with 105km to go, she contained herself, riding at a level she knew she could hold until the finish line.

It was a level that saw Van Vleuten finish two minutes ahead of her nearest rival and compatriot Anna van der Breggen in a performance that is rightly being heralded as one of the greatest of all time.

So then came the blue ribbon event, the men's elite road race. At 285km with over 3,5000m of climbing, it was always going to be brutal. Nobody expected what eventually happened.

Overnight rain saw the course shortened by 20km with Buttertubs and Gritton Moor taken from proceedings. This should have made life easier but that was not to be.

If anything, life was made harder as the rain lashed down on the peloton for the entire day. The favourites wilted as it was time for a new hero to arise.

All around us were unfamiliar faces as underdog Pedersen eventually took home rainbow. It should have been Trentin's to lose. With 10km to go, with 5km to go, with 200m to go, it was still Trentin's. 

But 280km in the pouring rain and freezing weather do strange things to a cyclist (just ask Van der Poel), and it was the 23-year-old Dane who reigned supreme.

Below are our favourite images from photography Chris Auld that tell the story of the Yorkshire World Championships better than any words can. Enjoy!

Image 2 of 41

Image 2 of 41

The UCI Road World Championships in Harrogate will go down as one of the most historic instalments of the race - with riders racing in almost aquatic racing conditions.

Amongst the epic racing, though, we were particularly excited to see one bike amid the fleets of shining carbon race machines.

Bauke Mollema's Trek Madone was, at a glance, nothing new. It sported the stunning bowling ball-esque red finish that Trek showcased at the Tour de France, and the bike's iconic chunky tube shapes and IsoSpeed decoupler suspension system. 

Looking closer, though, it drastically deviated from the normal spec of the Madone in one way – it had no front derailleur.

Mollema was riding a Sram Red AXS groupset 52 front chainring with a 10-33 rear cassette.

While many, including several pros we spoke to, derided the lack of range offered by a single chainring, it's worth nothing that his range was greater in this setup than with a normal double chainset (53-39) using a tight 11-25 rear cassette.

Mollema did not finish the Men's Elite road race, along with more than a hundred other competitors who were defeated by the extreme weather conditions. However, more successful riders also sided for 1x groupsets.

These include Alex Dowsett, who finished 5th in the Elite Individual Time Trial, who also rode a single 52-tooth chainring on a Sram Red AXS groupset.

For time trials, such deviations are not uncommon as riders traditionally need less range for all-out flat TT stages. However the use of 1x systems for time trial stages has been more common than in previous years.

The World Championships also saw a road race medallist aboard a 1x equipped bike. Bronze-medallist in the Junior Men's Road Race Magnus Sheffield rode a 1x setup on a 3T Strada bike.

The question is, then, if a 1x groupset is good enough to race the world's best on the road, do we really need a front derailleur for normal road cycling? Let's go back to the basics of why we have two chainrings in the first place. 

Ditching the front derailleur

In the early days of the Tour de France, riders not only had to contend with 400km-plus stages, but they had to do it with just two gears.

Not only that, to move between them, they had to get off the bike, release wing nuts on the rear wheel, flip it around and replace the chain on the sprocket before remounting.

These days we expect 22 gears as standard, but do we need quite so many? It might seem obvious that having more gears is better, but there is an argument to be made for losing gears.

Specifically, the switch to a single front chainring, known as 1x (‘one-by’), means you can do away with messy cabling, mounts and a bulky derailleur.

‘For me as an engineer, the front derailleur is rather offensive,’ says Gerard Vroomen, co-founder of Cervélo and current owner of Open Cycles.

‘The rear derailleur is a beautiful piece of machinery. The front derailleur consists of two plates that push against the chain until it falls off.’

It’s not just a question of aesthetics. ‘Losing the front shifter makes the bike more aero and lighter,’ Vroomen says. ‘It also requires fewer parts, means no chain drops, and makes shifting easier to understand – that’s important for first-time cyclists.’

The 1x problem

So what’s to stop a rider from converting a normal groupset into a 1x by simply removing the small chainring?

‘Nothing really,’ says Josh Riddle, previously Campagnolo’s global press manager and a keen crit racer. ‘The only issue is that you don’t have the most efficient chainline when using the larger sprockets in the rear.’

Actually, that’s not the only issue. Others point out that there’s a good chance the chain will repeatedly bounce off the chainring without something other than the derailleur to keep it in place.

‘The front derailleur is a good chain guide, but it isn’t fool-proof,’ says JP McCarthy, Sram’s road product manager.

Previously we've seen years of time trials at WorldTour level where riders use a single chainring without a clutched rear-derailleur and rely on a chain guide to hold the chain in place.

Tony Martin has certainly been an advocate of such gear choices, opting repeatedly for a single 58-tooth chainring on his S-Works Shiv, and rarely been seen to lose a chain in competition. However when he does so he is usually riding on very smooth tarmac and has an impeccable pedalling style.

As Tim Gerrits, road product manager at Shimano, says, ‘It depends greatly on the state of your roads. If you’re riding on pristine tarmac every day the chance of dropping a chain is minimal, but how many of us are that lucky?’

McCarthy is in agreement: ‘Even on smoother roads, narrow tyres transmit more of the road to the drivetrain.

‘Even a paint stripe will challenge the wrong set-up if the chain is long enough to accommodate a wide-range cassette [typically any cassette with a sprocket over 28t] but you happen to be riding on the 11- or 12-tooth sprocket.’

To combat this problem, the likes of Sram and Shimano have developed specific 1x groupsets that include a clutch mechanism for the rear derailleur to keep the chain under tension – making chain drops near impossible.

Shimano was the latest to bring this to the road market with its new Ultegra RX derailleur.

‘In addition, the chainring includes Direct Chain Engagement, where teeth are shaped in opposing ways to hold the chain to the chainring more securely,’ says Gerrits.

Shimano’s system is similar to Sram’s X-sync, where teeth are shaped for improved chain retention. Despite this technology being available, there are still few 1x set-ups designed for road bikes.

Shimano’s current 1x systems are MTB or Gravel products, and it’s only Sram that offers a possible road solution with Sram Force and Red eTap AXS, which happens to also be 12-speed. This can be combined with the clutched XX1 Eagle MTB derailleur. 

It seems a fear of losing the full range of our gears is holding manufacturers back from encouraging the use of 1x on road bikes, but that sacrifice may be more a matter of perception than reality.

Range is not the issue

While there are fewer gears on offer with a 1x groupset, one of the strange realities of a single chainring set-up is that it doesn’t greatly, if at all, limit gearing range.

‘If you combine our 9-32 cassette with a 36t chainring, it gives you the same range as 48/34 using a 12-30 cassette,’ says Vroomen.

That’s the same range as a sub-compact double chainset, but it beats the more conventional set-ups in terms of range too.

‘With a 40t ring it’s equivalent to 50/36 by 11-29, and with a 44t ring it’s equivalent to 54/39 by 11-28.’

While the range may not be a serious issue for 1x, there are more justifiable concerns that the jumps between gear ratios will be significantly bigger than with a standard double-ring set-up.

‘With 1x there are large gaps in metric development between one sprocket and the next,’ says Riddle. ‘While this is fine for cyclocross, which tends to find riders looking to power up ascents, it might not be best suited for road racing.

To maintain proper cadence and wattage on a long and varied climb, you need a perfect arsenal of gearing.’

That’s true, although it’s important to note that the number of separate gears is not enormously different to a conventional double chainset.

While we may think we have 22 gears with traditional systems, in reality we have use of far fewer.

Partly that’s down to chainlines – we shouldn’t use the smallest sprocket with the small chainring or the largest sprocket with the largest chainring – but also because many gears overlap.

Here’s where we get a little technical. Taking for example a 52/36 mid-compact with a cassette ranging from 11-28, four gear combinations are within a single gear inch of one another.

That means in a full rotation of the pedals, that would translate to a difference of less than 10cm of forward movement between them.

The 1x specific 3T Strada, used by pro team Aqua Blue in 2018 season

When considering gear habits, the gains shrink further. Riders will rarely shift from the upper half of the cassette on the large chainring to the lower half of the cassette on the small chainring to find a perfect gear ratio.

Then there are those riders who effectively deny themselves the advantages of a double chainset through a fixation for the big ring and hard gears.

‘Let’s talk about triathlon,’ says McCarthy. ‘Have you ever seen a triathlete going up a hill? I was at one Ironman a couple of years ago – these guys were pedalling up a minor rise literally in their 53x11.’

Rotor has probably made the case best with its 1x13 groupset, which the brand claims sacrifices only a single effective gear jump compared to a double chainset.

Making the switch

For many, then, 1x offers big gains with few sacrifices. So why aren’t we seeing it more? That’s because, as with many things, change starts at the top.

For the most part, pro cyclists won’t be using 1x in the near future. The first foray into 1x groupsets by a professional team, Aqua Blue, ended in tears last year when managers blamed the bikes for the struggles of the team.

The Aqua Blue response seemed rather strong, however it is true that a near-negligible increase in gaps between gears can become quite a big issue on long, fast days in the Grand Tours.

‘I like to think of it as speed differential between user groups,’ says McCarthy. ‘If you look at the WorldTour groups, they’re fast.

‘When you’re approaching a stage finish in the Tour de France you may be riding at 75kmh but still looking to push up a gear, so you have a precise high gear requirement.

‘Yet on the same stage the same rider could also have a low gear requirement to hit that cadence and power sweetspot going up a long Alpine climb.’

So pros need all 22 of the gears on offer, but for the rest of us perhaps our desire for front shifting is indeed simply an illusion. If so, it’s only going to become more of one as 12 and 13-speed cassettes become more common.

As Vroomen puts it, ‘I tell people, if currently 1x11 doesn’t do everything you want, don’t focus on changing the “1” at the front; soon they will be changing the “11” at the back.’