Pacing the Time Trial

All alone, grinding the pedals, just you against the clock. An empty road lies ahead. The spectators cheer. Now try harder. Push yourself, try harder, keep pushing forward on that empty road…

The individual time trial is called the Race of Truth. It is dramatically different than other cycling disciplines, a solitary effort demanding internal motivation without the usual interplay with teammates and competitors. At the Tour of California, I got a taste of the pro’s view of the competition. I bought one of the VIP experiences offered by race organizers to ride in a car following a cyclist at the Solvang stage. Once in my life, I thought, I would like to see it from the rider’s view—the crowds, the turns, the effort.

Six months ago, I booked this ride and plotted whom I would follow. The organizers said they could not promise a particular rider but would consider requests. Armstrong? Yeah right, me and the rest of California. Cavendish? Slim chance, he’s the most interesting rider out there right now. Cancellara? He’s the best time trialer and would be fighting for the win. But somebody will ride behind these guys. Might it be me?

All this daydreaming would end up a useless exercise when none of those cyclists would actually participate in the Tour of California. Time to reset my expectations. In the end, I request an early rider on the HTC-Highroad team. With an early ride, I will be back to see all the general classification contenders, who start later in the afternoon. I choose HTC as a fan of this California-based team, plus I had met the participants at a pre-race event in Santa Monica. My request is benign enough for the organizers to accommodate.

“I’ve changed my mind,” I tease the ride coordinator. “I want to ride behind Levi.” We both laugh at the idea. The Radioshack CEO will ride behind Leipheimer, who sits only behind his teammate Chris Horner in the overall standings.

Time to get to the car. Winding through the crowds, we meet the driver, a former pro cyclist. I will be in one of two cars following Matt Goss. The other passengers are in The Biz. Two are Specialized dealers, one is also a former cycling pro with his lady friend, and a pair of girls work for the race’s PR company. Their rides are favors or perks. I am the only one who has paid for this, and believe me, I have blocked out from my memory how much I paid. Not a king’s ransom, but pricey enough to make this once in a lifetime. For this reason, Former Pro and his lady let me sit in the front seat. This is old hat for them.

Earlier that afternoon, the last man in the overall standings started first of the 133 riders, and the rest follow at one minute intervals, until the final thirteen riders, who start at two minute intervals. Goss is the 52^nd to start. He rolls out of the gate and disappears around the first bend. HTC sports director Brian Holm follows in the team car, then we zip in right behind. Lots of kids pack the enthusiastic crowds, waving homemade signs and foam fingers.

With the rush of the race start, it suddenly feels like the rider is going in slow motion, as the first long stretch features quite an incline. This is cruel, says the Former Pro passenger. The guys are itching to get some speed going and then they have to face this. Slightly frustrated, we agree and settle in for the 24 kilometer course. The first turn indicates the speed at which the cyclists ride. Our driver hits the gas to keep up, bearing right, and I hang on. This is pretty fast.

A few turns left and right, and Goss leads us in a long straight stretch. Former Pro’s early sympathy switches to criticism. He’s not trying at all, he says. I can tell when a rider is sand-bagging it. He’s barely turning the pedals.

Huh? We’re not in the car behind a time trial specialist. We are following sprinter Matt Goss. He excels at short bursts of speed and power, after hours of working with his teammates and responding to the moves of his competitors. This solo effort against the clock is very different. I suspect Former Pro is showing off a bit with his comments, wanting to give us the insider’s insight, like a film producer’s assistant who nit-picks each movie he sees. But I can’t let it slide.

Wouldn’t it be a mistake for him to push it? I ask Former Pro. He has zero chance of winning today and has to conserve his energy. The next day the Tour of California faces its most challenging mountain stage ever, another discipline that pains the sprinters. Plus, Goss will have his eye on the flat route at the Thousand Oaks finale. That will be his chance for a win, so he should save as much energy for that stage as possible. There are so many races within a bike race, and this time trial is not the one for Goss.

The group in the car agrees, and again we settle down. Goss is our little white rabbit, and we follow him down the course. Along an empty stretch, it feels like a casual Sunday drive. There are no spectators, and Goss pedals on solo. Our driver pulls up alongside the HTC team car. Want to meet Brian Holm? the driver asks me. Of course! Holm and team manager Rolf Aldag were a hilarious Hans-and-Frans-style duo revealed by the 2010 documentary “Chasing Legends.” Holm greets us warmly and laughs at how he has been teasing Goss. We’re chatting and laughing from car to car, and it’s a beautiful day. Seems like everyone in cycling is friendly and upbeat. We’re rolling past the small farms and charming homes with white horses out front. Bike race? Are we in the middle of a professional bike race?

A flash of red reminds us that we are. Goss is catching up to Ken Hanson, the Jelly Belly rider who started the course one minute earlier. Now he’s turning on the gas, says the Former Pro. He can’t help but chase this guy. The Former Pro is antsy, maybe itching to take a shot at the chase himself. Goss has a target to focus on, and this is no longer a solitary ride. He gets closer and closer.

Hanson is all alone, no team car following. His domestic team cannot afford to follow each cyclist. Hanson is trying to hang on, trying to keep ahead of Goss. Former Pro is getting excited. Look at him, he says. Jelly Belly is taking the turn on the outside! A rookie mistake! Instead of cutting through the inside, he takes the long way around the bend, adding to his time. Perhaps he forgot he’s on a closed course, I offer. Poor guy, we agree. Just wasted time and energy.

Goss passes Hanson, then Hanson pulls ahead. This repeats a few times. Even the HTC car must hang back to give this race within a race some room. The speed picks up as we hit a downhill section of the course, and the driver of our car stays alert as we take one turn and another. He ignores the brake and pushing the gas again and again. I would never drive a car this fast on this remote road, which narrows and then heads up at Ballard Canyon.

The spectators fill the roadsides here, spilling onto the course and running alongside each rider. Pale men in fluorescent speedos, guys dressed in costumes, amateur cyclists and photographers roar at Goss, then Hanson. Our own Alpe D’Huez, jokes Former Pro, referring to a famous Tour de France mountain finish always lined with rabid fans. Here in Solvang, the cyclists only face a Category 4 climb, the least difficult categorized climb, but it still poses a challenge. Goss takes it on.

Past the top of the climb, the course is a series of rolling hills. Looks like we will be leaving Hanson behind for good. But wait, Goss is not yet on his own. In the last 2K, a third rider comes from behind. Martin Mortensen of the Leopard-Trek squad is driving forward and threatens to pass Goss. Mortensen started two minutes behind Goss, and shortly after passing under the 1K banner, he passes the HTC rider. This is not an easy day at the office for Matt Goss, but he plows forward to the line.

As we near the last 500 meters of the course circuit, the cars pull of the route, leaving the riders to make the final push to the finish on their own. Goss is out of sight. Dropped off by our driver, we head in different directions to watch the rest of the field. I cheer on Zabriskie, Hincapie, Van Gardaren. Then Hesjedal and Schleck. Finally Leipheimer comes in for a heartbreaker, finishing second for the stage. Horner rides well and preserves his overall race lead. One of the best time trailers in the world, David Zabriskie wins the day. A Matthew Modine look-a-like, he struts to the podium. Nice ride, Dave. He flashes a sly smile.

Fast forward two days, and we are in Thousand Oaks for the finale. The crowd is buzzing that Ben Swift is likely to win the stage. No, I think Matt Goss will win it. He’s hungry. After following him at the time trial, I am rooting for the guy. Sure enough, Aussie Gossy brings home the win. He kept enough gas in his tank for the sprint stage. Smart man. That’s a good day at the office.

And hey, I got to follow three riders at the time trial for the price of one.

Solvang Time Trial Results:

1^st place:          David Zabriskie, 30:35

28^th place:        Martin Mortensen, 32:23

90^th place:        Matthew Goss, 34:26

127^th place:      Ken Hanson, 35:52

Complete stage results online.

Thousand Oaks Stage Results:

1^st place:          Matthew Goss

8^th place:          Ken Hanson

95^th place:        Martin Mortensen

101^st place:      David Zabriskie

Complete stage results online