If the atmosphere for the Women’s Elite Road Race was electric, it was even more charged for the men’s version. I’d figured that everyone in town for the racing would show up both weekend days, as would local residents, but the crowds seemed much larger everywhere I went Sunday: our official post-event media guide stated that over 1 million people lined the course.
Adding to those massive crowds: While not many elite men likely came out for the women’s race, on their recovery day, the femmes showed up — including the winner.
Yours truly and women’s road race winner Magdeleine Vallieres
Unlike yesterday, today I took advantage of my press pass and mixed it up in the pre-start mixed zone, poking into some interviews.
Remco was all smiles before the start.
He also remains very proud of his Olympic gold.
Tadej was mobbed by reporters before the start…
…while Primoz stood alone.
Cav was surely glad he wasn’t riding on this parcours.
Fan favorite Victor Campaenerts received some media attention.
There’s not much to infer from a neutral rollout, though I did notice that Slovenia was already massed at the front…
…while Remco and Ben Healy were at the very back. A sign of things to come?
It was much warmer this morning, without the cloud cover we enjoyed during most of the women’s race, so I retreated to the media room. There was no energy there, no fan support; the loudest applause arose for a reporter celebrating his birthday. So when the large screen showed Rwandan rider Eric Manizabayo trying to bridge to the break, a moment that surely energized the actual fans, I left for another true roadside experience.
I considered trying to flag down a boda boda for a ride out to Mt. Kigali, but decided the risk was too high; later I’d see the massive crowds and question my decision. Instead I headed to the same Europeans-invaded bar as yesterday; from there I could hoof it up to the top of Kigali city’s cobbled climb. On the way I walked through the absolutely mobbed fan zone, and stopped to take a full-on, Worlds-legit photo — in my PEZ regalia.
The bar was also mobbed, though not with Africans. The Belgians were in full effect, drinking and bearing Remco shwag.
Yet somehow, when Evenepoel was dropped by Pogačar’s acceleration (and, evidently, mechanical issues) on the Mt. Kigali ascent, I heard nothing from the Belgian viewers. They continued to chat, and to eat, and mostly to drink.
The scene along the cobbled stretch was far more diverse — and sober, though also spirited. By the time I sprinted there from my standing room-only spot, Pogačar and del Toro were alone off the front.
The Slovenians were fewer in number but generally happier than the Belgians.
I made some Ugandan friends while cheering — them for Pogi, me for Healy, all of us for the Africans.
Del Toro would soon drop from Pogačar’s wheel.
As any cycling fan knows, ours is an odd sport: you can follow it much better when you’re not there. The large screen above the cobble crowd helped, but our nearby announcer again drowned out the TV commentators with his chants and cheers. I thus got my workout in running between the bar, where I could follow more easily, and the climb — but the complexion of the race remained the same: Pogi ahead, the chasers chasing but not closing. I later learned about Remco’s remarkable rally; my wife told me that he was off his bike with one of his several mechanicals right in front of her, while I was off snapping photos.
The wilted Belgian flag seems apropos.
After Tadej, then Remco, then Ben Healy came through the last time, I started counting riders — and stopped at 30, when the last rider, Amanuel Ghebreigzabhier of Eritrea, passed on the way to the finish. Just 30 of 165 riders finished this, the toughest World Championship Road Race ever, and the last to finish was an African. This was perhaps not coincidental, but still: Richard Carapaz can’t say that he finished, nor can Thymen Arensmen, Oscar Onley, Jay Vine, or any American rider.
A final round of cheers rose as Ghebreigzabhier pedaled up the final stretch to the finish. His performance seems notable: African riders certainly have vast room for improvement; perhaps the Eritrean’s very long name will be one we’ll hear in the future. But on this weekend, even more so than Ghebreigzabhier, Tadej, Remco, or Magdeleine Vallieres, the real star was Kigali, which pulled off an impeccably run event.
I had a blast, and hope to return to Worlds next year, but: No offense, Canada, but I don’t think it will be quite the same.
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