It's Thursday, the rest-day at the 2020 Vuelta a San Juan Internacional, South America's (and, arguably, all of the Americas') most prestigious and competitive road stage race. If you're into cycling, names such as Julian Alaphilippe, Peter Sagan, Fernando Gaviria, and 20-year-old Belgian phenom Remco Evenepoel will not just ring bells but make your mouth drop.
So, that's the reason why I had really wanted to work this race, apart from traveling back to Argentina, a country that I have come to truly love on my two previous private trips.
We're four stages into this seven-stage event, and the racers have already covered 533.2 kilometers (331 miles). I, on the other hand, am just a flabby loser who has enjoyed 266 moderately paced kilometers (165 miles) on his Ritchey Outback, with about 40 K of those on Argentina's notorious ripio, or gravel.
Not too bad for a 64-year-old working man who outweighs all of those boys by several magnitudes. 😂
When I saw that all of us officials would be housed for the entire duration of the event in the same hotel in San Juan, the decision to take my bike became much easier. And I'm sure glad I did, because I have been able to go on almost daily rides that are spectacularly scenic. As I have to do so often, I have to pinch myself to truly believe that I get paid to be flown down here, get free accomodations, enjoy great food and drink (think Malbec), get to ride, and rub shoulders with some of the biggest names in cycling. OK, there's a bit of work involved and a few challenges to be overcome, but overall, it beats going for walks around the tank at home and collecting aluminum cans.
I have to give it to the organizers: They are putting on a truly world-class event. I get it: This is a UCI ProSeries stage race, just one step below the WorldTour level that features races such as Paris-Nice or Paris-Roubaix. You should see the Eurosport and ESPN infrastructure that's at the start and finish lines. The Tour of Utah, also part of the ProSeries, is an extremely well-run event, but somehow this race appears to be one step above. It's certainly not your traditional South American chaotic event. (And this is not meant to dis ToU, an event with organizers that I very much respect and that I truly love to work--ToU just doesn't have the kind of political and monetary support--think
government funding--that this race has managed to attract.)
I arrived in Mendoza last Friday, after a long flight from DFW to Santiago, more than six hours of layover, and then the short hop across the Andes (which was not as spectacular as the last time I took this flight--very little snow even on the highest peaks.) I flew into Mendoza because--oddly--there are only two flights from Buenos Aires into San Juan, and they involved changing airports in Buenos Aires. Thank you very much. The organization picked me up from MDZ, and I was whisked to the Hotel Del Bono Park, my home-away-from-home for about 12 days. What can I say? A very nice room, and all meals are provided. More about that later.
I had to arrive early enough in San Juan (about two hours north of Mendoza, which is located on about the same latitude as Santiago) to be able to attend the Team Managers Meeting. That's the meeting in which the UCI-appointed Chief Commissaire (or PCP) addresses the assembled Team Managers (in our case, we have 27 teams with a total of 162 starting riders of whom several have already abandoned) in regard to special regulations, admonishments, and of course the drawing for the sequence of vehicles for the first stage. Let me tell you, these meetings generally are really efficiently choreographed. As the guy who sees some of the racers at the conclusion of each stage for medical control I also need to talk to the Directeur Sportifs, smartly attired with tie and blue blazer.
This meeting generally happens on the afternoon before the start of the race, and quite often there is a team presentation that evening, a big ol' shindig for the locals as well as the press to showcase the event, the racers, and (maybe most importantly) local dignitaries and politicians who wouldn't miss an opportunity to cast themselves as the champions of cycling. I've seen my share of team presentations, but I have to say that this one took the cake, hands down, trailing only what I'd seen at the Olympics. It was terribly unfortunate that the outdoor ceremony had to be cut short because of a violent thunderstorm that threatened to topple scaffolds and screens. Sadly I didn't get to see all those gymnasts and dancers who undoubtedly had prepared their routines for weeks, if not months, before the event.
Que lastima.
That's also what my medical observer and driver, Dr. Duilio Gomez, said about the abrupt end of the evening. Duilio is a local orthopedic surgeon, and for the past four years he has worked the Vuelta in both an advisory position for the entire event as well as the medical observer for anti-doping. In addition to that he has been the medical liason for the Argentinian rugby team ("
Los Pumas") and has thrown his weight around numerous other medical endeavors. We're getting along rather well, especially since his Spanish is fairly easy to understand. Spending time with him (and our two lovely assistants, Florencia and Gabriela) in the car going to the race finish (or returning) gives us lots of time to talk--as did our evening together at a local craft brewery.
My days look like this: I wake up when it gets light, around 7:15 to 7:30 or so. Breakfast is served in the very nice hotel restaurant area (as is lunch, but not supper), and I try to get down there by not much later than 8:30 or so, after checking e-mails, doing a bit of paperwork (such as scanning documents with daylight instead of a feeble desk lamp), and mapping out a ride in the good ol' Locus app. Breakfast highlights are good coffee, freshly squeezed orange juice, serrano ham, and fruit to kill for. The bread totally sucks.
Since all of the stages are scheduled to start in early- to mid-afternoon, there's no morning rush. The racers mill around (only about six of the teams, all of them WorldTour teams--Deceuninck-Quickstep, BORA-hansgrohe, UAE Team Emirates, et al. are staying in the Del Bono, and they have their separate dining area), get ready for a warm-up ride, hang out at the bar for an espresso.
Muj tranquilo. I for my part kit up and go for my ride. So far they have been ranging in length from a quick spin on my arrival day that was only 14 miles to what was by far my hardest one, a 45-miler with about a third of washboard gravel that made me question my sanity--it was a day that approached 100 degrees, and I was out for too long and really pushed the limits. Today's 47-miler was so much easier since the temperatures were just in the 80s and I faced only two miles of
ripio.
The rides are simply great! I get to see arid flatlands, desert-like badlands, mountains, endless vineyards and olive groves, small villages, and city life. It's just amazing! Most of the asphalted roads are pretty smooth but then suddenly it all goes to pot or worse, and I'm glad I have the Outback, even if I opted for just 30 mm tires. Navigating with Locus has become second nature by now, and I have come up with just the right routes.
San Juan has lots of cyclists, and as I am writing, the Grand Fondo Peter Sagan is happening (yep, while it is 89 F at 19:54 hrs). On my ride today I saw countless mountain bikers heading for a recreational area at one of the reservoirs, and road cyclists were out, too. San Juan is investing in a huge new velodrome that is going to be the anchor for their new
Ciudad Deportiva. The local politicians realize the value of good recreational facilities, and the money that's being spent on such projects is rather staggering, especially in light of the general economy in Argentina. Putting on this race ain't cheap, especially with me showing up and enjoying the hospitality.
So, I guess that's the point to talk more about the food. As I said, breakfast and lunch are in the hotel proper, but dinner is in an adjacent restaurant, and man, do they have a nice menu. Of course, beef is King here, and I think I have had more beef in the past week than in the past six months. Seriously. Great food, nice service, excellent wine. All of it is covered by the organization. Thank you guys, I love it and you and everything else!
Tomorrow's stage is going to be a tough one: It's what one would call the Queen Stage, and quite likely whoever comes out on top tomorrow as the Leader on GC (General Classification) will keep the white jersey until Sunday's final flat criterium-style affair in San Juan proper. For Duilio and me, plus the two lovely assistants (and the chaperones, who don't travel with us but in a separate van) it will be another long night since we will have to drive more than hours from the finish back to the hotel, at night. Yesterday's transfer back from Valle Fertil was a bit more than three hours. So, dinner may not start until 23:00 or midnight, like last night.
These are tiny sacrifices if one can even call them that. I just talked to the Spanish PCP, Miguel, one of the few people here who speak English, and we both commiserated about the rough life we have to endure poolside. I go along with what he said: As International Commissaires, we are privileged. We sure as hell are.
I sure am looking forward to the second half of the Vuelta a San Juan Internacional.
Jürgen
