10%

MILANO-SANREMO

By Gruber Images

March 21^st, 2017

we begin at the end.

I'm going to post some race shots. I'm going to post our four favorites first, and then we're going to take a wild and rambling look back at the day that was - both looking directly at the race, as well as everything around it. If you don't have time for my nonsense, just check out the first few shots and go about your day. If you have some more time, grab a snack and something to drink, and sit back for some fun.

king sagan.

Over the top of the Poggio - only a few minutes from the frustration seen in the first image, Sagan looked dominant, nigh unstoppable. His acceleration over the last minute of the Poggio was outrageous - and the kind of thing that will likely have the contenders over the next few weeks at least a little bit nervous. They're going to have to deal with THAT for the next three weeks. Sagan just seems to get better and better with each passing year - each passing race.

pretty picture.

I love this spot along the coast. My favorite part of taking this picture was before it was taken. I sat on that rock a long, long way above the Ligurian Sea, looked out across the water, and threw rocks in it. Kill me the day the magic of throwing rocks in the water disappears. And for that matter, end me when I don't excited when a helicopter comes ripping around a corner with the break at a bike race. I love that. :-)

for every winner...

...there are dozens of disappointed dreamers fallen on the wayside (as we all well know). For every jubilant Kwiatkowski, there's Peter Sagan taking a long drink of water moments after the finish, and then throwing the plastic bottle on the ground in frustration - the kind of frustration that doesn't reek of a four-year-old who didn't get their way, but of someone who is processing how close they just came, another opportunity missed. Or, a bit further afield, there's Michael Matthews - who finished in the chasing group, but nowhere close to where he hoped to, nowhere near what he had dreamed of over the winter, over the last year, probably longer. In the end, all he could do was put his head down, hold his significant other's hand, and let time do the magic of clouding the pain.

at home with cannondale.

It's hard to believe it, but we've been working with Slipstream since 2014. In a way, it feels like we've grown up with them in our own little way.

serious, serious, fun.

It's not possible to exaggerate the attention Peter Sagan gets at this point. He's chased like a prized piece of ancient Egyptian jewelry everywhere he goes, but he still manages to keep it easy and fun. Somehow.

the happiness of toms skujinš

Toms was so happy Saturday morning, he took his happy feelings on parade with a few others and sprinkled little happy dust all over the road between Milano and about the Cipressa. Seriously - we love taking pictures of happy bike riders. Toms sits firmly in that category.

start scenes.

Aggressive fans demanding selfies with riders, cyclotourists gawking at absurdly expensive bikes, phones taking pictures, relaxed riders, and harried staff just trying to get their jobs done - normal day at the office.

head turner.

I was running back to the car, so I could start my day in relative ease on the course instead of trying to get on it later when I ran right by the legs of Luis Leon Sanchez, and I stopped dead in my tracks. Holy moly, look at those pipes.

and they're off.

closed roads?

At about the time Ashley was taking the image above, I was still trying to get out of Milano. The roads were wide open. How open? A police officer stopped the race's lead car to allow even more cars on the road. At that point, the race couldn't have been more than a few minutes behind. It was amusing, and very much the typical semi sorta kinda organized chaos everyone loves (or doesn't love) about Italy (we love it).

leaving milano.

binasco.

For all the attention Milano-Sanremo gets as a beautiful race, it spends a lot of time in suburban Milano yuck. Most outskirts of cities are bad, but Italian outskirts are especially so, and nothing is quite like Milano. Binasco is not a terribly pretty town, but a great crowd gathers and turns ugly into fantastic.

the dadizelers.

I can't imagine where we would be without the Dadizelers. It was almost exactly four years ago that we chased our first race with Yoeri (not in the picture, driving - like always) and Ivan (hiding in the back left). We met Yoeri and Ivan at the start of Milano-Sanremo, then a few weeks later, we had the chance to join the two of them for Gent-Wevelgem. Our life has never been the same. Yoeri has a gift for chasing bike races - and consequently - doing twelve things at once. He's a magician. These are some of his friends from the small town of Dadizele, just a little bit outside of Wevelgem. Dadizele is cycling mad - particularly because of their hometown hero, Jens Debusschere. The guy waving - that's Jelle - he's the de facto head of the Jens Debusschere Fan Club. He has a shrine to the former Belgian champ and defending Dwars door Vlaanderen winner - it's amazing. Somehow, we've come to know these people, and somehow, they've become important to us in the best way. Thank you, Yoeri and Jelle and Ivan and everyone for taking us under your wing and making the Classics that little bit more special. It means so much.

pontecurone.

Binasco isn't all that much to look at, but Pontecurone is lovely. The race is getting closer and closer to the Turchino, but the raging headwind is keeping things slow and tame in the field. At this point in the day, it's positively spring-like. I had to take off my jacket - I was in a t-shirt.

watch!

the energy.

The Dadizelers bring the energy to every single spot along the course. They don't just watch - they shout, yell, whoop, cajole their Lotto boys (and especially JDB) to greatness. They don't just cheer for the boys in red though - they're equal opportunity cheerers. +10 to the Dadizelers.

from up high.

There are certain spots at bike races that I can't pass up. Every year, I go to the same spot. I wonder if maybe I'm taking it too easy, or maybe there's more to be found, but I don't think so. I love this spot just off to the side of the Autostrada. It's a unique spot with the race going directly under the highway and a pull-off located in the perfect spot. Each year, that little pull-off fills up completely with cars in the moments leading up to the race's passage.

waiting.

Because that's what you do at a bike race. You wait. A lot.

heading into the appennini.

watching.

And when you're done waiting, you watch, and then they're gone, and then you carry on with your day.

cold turchino.

Pontecurone was warm. Easily 20C. The sun shone brightly, the blue sky was perfect - there weren't very many clouds to speak of. Then the race headed up into the Appennini, the clouds gathered, the temperature dropped, and by the top of the Turchino, it was maybe 5C.

side of the road.

yep - it's a long way down.

flowers!

You really can't talk about Sanremo without mentioning the flowers. They're everywhere. Greenhouses seem to form bricks across the mountainsides that fall toward the water. They're beautiful, and if your name is Ashley, and you're a gardening fanatic, these things are an irresistible sidebar to the year's first Monument race chase.

in the tunnels.

I always wonder if it's worth the mad dash to get to this spot. From that lovely spot near Noli, it's a wild drive to get to Andora, followed by a frantic swap from driving to riding my bike, followed by 2k of mostly uphill to the top of Capo Mele. It's nuts, but if all goes well, I get there with about ten seconds to spare, and then I get to do my best biathlon impression.

After that, it's a nice ride back down, sweaty, but happy to have pulled off the combo for a second straight year. I guess it's one of those little things. It doesn't sound like much, but the challenge is 99% of the fun in this case.

hurry!

Back to Ashley's story - because hers is the fun one of the day. I was by myself in the car, and she got to enjoy the rolling Dadizele race chase party. It consists of much fast driving, beers, mad cheering, and then sprinting/speed walking back to the van, because there are likely still 14 more spots to see the race between here and Sanremo.

poggio.

What's there to say? It's the Poggio. It's the easiest climb ever. It's hilariously easy. I love that about this climb. There's nothing notable about it, except that it comes around KM295, and when the world's best go nuts, the easiest of climbs turn into the Zoncolan.

in the bar.

If you're at the top of the Poggio, the race rhythm goes like this: watch the race on tv until a few moments before the race comes, dash outside, watch the leaders pass by, then sprint back inside to watch the finish. After watching the finish, then wander back outside to watch the rest of the race pass by.