The Time of My Life, L’Angliru.

The Vuelta is way my favourite grand tour. TdF is a little arrogant, the Giro is a little prim but the Vuelta is feral, going to wild places, grinding its participants down till they are nearly on their knees then finishing in the magnificent Madrid. Wow.
I arrived at the 1km banner at about midday.
The Angliru the most feared climb in grand tour cycling. Way harder, in my view, than Monte Zoncolan, I only said this to agitate my Italian friends 😉.

I waited 5 hours when the riders finally came past. Waves of mist rendered it nearly impossible to see the road, let alone down it. What an atmosphere, nationalities of the world there all shouting for their heros.

Roglic and Vingegaard glued together then 30seconds or so and Kuss and Landa come past. What a sight athletes at the top of their game ascending a road with gradients so steep. It’s jaw dropping.

Did Sep ask the others to wait or to push on, who knows?

G did eventually come past, he looked tired and didn’t smile when i shouted bravo. Not easy to know what, if anything to shout at a time like that.

The ride down is pure mayhem. I was at the top so all below jumped on their bikes and hammered it down. I set off slow, near zero visibility, people stopping/people starting/people swerving/people under taking/people overtaking/pros with whistles hooning down the middle of the road fast. I was scared stiff.