A North American Assault

There was tremendous anticipation surrounding the return, after a 35-years hiatus, to the ‘mythical’ Puy de Dôme on Stage 9. Perhaps it would be advisable to wait at least another three decades for a return as stage turned out to be quite a bizarre affair.

Neilsen Powless is on fire, defending his Polka Dot Jersey tooth and nail. He made it yet again into the day’s big breakaway - which, with that distinctive jersey on your back like a big target, and every rider who is not a sprinter, not a GC contender or dedicated helper for one, trying like mad to do the same - is an incredibly difficult feat to accomplish. They all know he’s going for the break, everyone marks him in the peloton, yet he gets away all the same. The sign of a fine, classy racer. Powless, who started the day with an eight-point lead in Polka Dot classification, found himself at the head of a 14-man breakaway comprised of excellent racers including fellow Yank Matteo Jorgensen and Canada’s Michael Woods. To the disappointment of the media and fans, the peloton simply waved goodbye to the fugitives, the GC contenders preferring to take most of the day off, unimpressed with idea of recreating history ala Anquetil v Poulidor.

The break’s lead ballooned up to over 16-minutes, Powless gobbled up the points on the three minor climbs along the route - he is really grinding out that lead, it’s a most impressive display of fortitude. Jorgensen, with 48-km to go, launched a brilliant solo attack. The 6’3” man from Boise, who has detailed his extreme dedication and almost fanatical approach to preparation, was showing the benefits of all that focus. He was magnificent, perfectly poised and flowing on his Canyon machine, racing alone through a truly massive crowd, hitting the base of the Puy with 1’:00” over Powless (two Yanks leading!) Mohorič and Burgadeau; Woods was in the third group, another 1:40” down. With 4.5-km to go, Jorgensen had increased his lead over both groups, 1’:23” and 2’:16 respectively, it looked as through the Idahoan was going to give Movistar their first Tour stage in almost four years.

Half a kilometer later, the delightful, colorful cheering atmosphere of the Tour simply vanished. The climb had been closed to the public, and it seemed, unpleasantly, like a return to Covid-era racing. There wasn’t even a bird to watch the racers, it wasn’t pretty or compelling, just a narrow road next to a train - or funicular - track up a silent, extinct volcano.

At the three-km to go on the 12% grade, Powless, for the second time this Tour (the Tourmalet) when just in sight of the big Polka Dot points that would add greatly to his total, began to go backwards just as Michael Woods came blasting up having closed his 0:40 gap with ease. For Woods, the former sub-four-minute miler come late to cycling, the empty, steep climb, with only a couple of riders in front of him was as perfect a cycling scenario he could have. Lacking the cut and thrust of more experienced racers - one can also see this in Biniam Girmay when he gets knocked about in the field sprints - Woods could go into runner mode, with nothing to impede or confuse his effort, and use his massive strength to its maximum. At 1.3-km to go he was only 0:33” behind Jorgensen and I began to bite my nails. The time kept coming down, it was excruciating. 450-meters to the finish and Woods flew by the American for a presitgious win, and crushing defeat for Jorgensen who collapsed to finish fourth. Powless finished seventh on a successful day out, his lead in the Polka Dot competition increased to 18-points.

Behind in the Yellow Jersey group, Jumbo-Visma begin to hit it with 25-kms to go. There was a war on the climb of course, and the big news is that Pogačar, with 1.4-km to go attacked Vingegaard gaining 0:08” on the Dane. Pogačar now sits 0:17” behind in the overall classification having successfully attacked the Yellow Jersey now twice in the mountains, gaining a strong psychological advantage for the second half of the Tour. The protocol ceremonies were sad, only the roadies impatiently waiting to tear down the staging, some media desperate to return to the press room at the bottom, were there to watch. No cheering, no joy. In 35-years it will still be too soon to return.