Season Opener: Tour Down Under
It’s been 9 days since I’m officially a CCC-Liv rider!
The excitement of signing with a brand new team has only built over the last few weeks. For the first time in my career I had a pre-season training camp so, in December, I had an early taste of what was to come: new equipment, new teammates, new management, new race schedule. Contracts only officially roll over on January 1 so after camp I had to wait. I felt like a kid waiting for Christmas and when 2019 finally arrived, the build up did not let me down.
A week after the New Year we all jetted down to Australia for the Tour Down Under. After the million-hour long flight, we all crashed at the hotel while the time change crashed into us. Thank goodness there is a strong coffee culture in Australia because the next day it felt like I needed a constant supply of caffeine just to keep one eye open. The other eye, thankfully, was being kept open by spending time with teammates, exploring Adelaide by bike, and snuggling baby kangaroos. (Hey, when in Australia, right?!).
I couldn’t think of a better way to start with a new team then with a new race. It will be my first time competing at the Tour Down Under. Since it’s also our first race as a team, the goal is just to start learning how to race together over the four-stage event. We’re all professionals with a very professional set up so everyone knows what they are doing but there is sense of unspoken communication in racing, a rapport, that just needs to be built on the road in a race. It’s learning how your teammates react to race situations, what each riders facial expressions mean, and even who likes what in their bottles. In other words, it’s all about bonding this week but, if an opportunity arises, whether that’s snuggling a kangaroo or grabbing a podium, you can bet we’re going to take it!
Winter Cycling in Girona
Winter is starting to set in across Europe but here in Girona we are still enjoying warm sunny autumn days and bare-leg riding; it’s pretty rare to find a place you can ride outside year round; it’s even more rare to find a place that offers a cyclist so much, even in the winter. Most cycling destinations close-up seasonally but you’ll find Girona keeps its doors open for a reason.
Everything Girona has to offer a cyclist in summer is still available in the winter. If you thought the roads were quiet before, winter brings a new sense of tranquility and freedom. Without the hustle and bustle of tourists, the roads are even less populated with cars (if you can imagine that) and home to more solo riders rather than the summer pelotons. While you’ll see the true locals begin to cover up in early autumn, the sun stays warm and it’s not uncommon to have mid-day temperatures around 17-18C well into December. Of course, there are colder single-digit days but without the threat of snow or ice, it’s nothing some winter attire and a later start can’t combat.
Enjoy the serpentining coastline of the Costa Brava two-abreast and the view of white-sand beaches as nature intended: empty. If the snow-lined summits entice you, head into the Pyrenees with warmer clothes, make a snow ball, feel like a hardcore hero, and then come back into the warmer valley of La Garrotxa natural park. Of course, there’s no better excuse to stop for coffee and cake when the temperatures are single digits and there are plenty of cafes worth riding to.
Join us for some winter miles with sunshine, check out our 3 Day and 6 Day Girona Cycle Tour or let us build you a custom Girona cycling getaway.
May your choices reflect your hopes, not fears
The last time I wrote publicly, I declared that an African would stand on the podium of a Grand Tour for the first time in history. It feels remarkable to deliver on that statement.
Coming second at the Giro Rosa after 10 days of aggressive, exciting, and demanding racing was incredibly satisfying. To back that up with Cille's fourth and my third at La Course only 48 hours later shows the depth of capability and dedication at Cervelo Bigla. Never have we gone so deep, pushed so hard, or fought so bravely. At one point during the Giro, I saw Clara Koppenburg in tears while she was still laying down the power.
To declare a massive ambitious goal publicly was equal parts scary and energising (maybe more 60/40), but we weren’t going to the Giro to lose. We went in with the hope of winning, and used that as our 'north arrow'. We were going to make attacks and believe they would be successful; we were going to ride like a big team because we could influence the outcome; we were going to race the Giro Rosa because we could win. We made sure that every choice, as Nelson Mandela scripted, reflected our hopes, not fears.
There were many times during the race when that strategy was challenged - when we lost two riders in the first few kilometres of the opening team time trial due to unforeseen mechanicals, when I crashed 8km before the finish line on stage 4 and almost lost everything, when Clara stood up to cover another attack on stage eight after I thought she couldn’t possibly turn another pedal stroke. Time after time we held onto our hope.
There have also been moments when our gutsy choices guided us to exactly where we had hoped to be, like when Cille attacked at La Course and I got to watch the entire bunch scramble and discuss what the heck they were going to do, or , back at the Giro, when I crested the Zoncolan in second place, chasing the pink jersey solo, and, of course, stepping up onto that final podium for second overall.
We raced with the hope of winning not the fear of losing. It was an ethos the whole team had to adopt, and we aren’t the only ones. I recognise it in the other women I race with, the teams of people behind each event, every family, fan, and sponsor. I see it when, like at this year's Giro, there are bigger crowds, more community engagement, better media coverage, and challenging courses. I feel it when the women's peloton delivers an exciting show and world-class performances. I feel it when I'm the first African to podium at a Grand Tour.
If there is just one thing the organisers of the Giro Rosa and the incredible teams that raced it proved that Cervelo Bigla's success proves it's that, if you choose to let it, hope will guide you to incredible places.
Race big
We showed up at Liège-Bastogne-Liège ready to go big. After our 2nd place at La Flèche Wallonne, we were on a high and everyone wanted to push a little farther, swing a bit bigger. But Liège is not Flèche.
Flèche always, always, always comes down to a few riders on the Mur, but Liège is a race that can be won by different types of riders and different types of strategies. The sprinters can make it over the climbs, a break could win…the possibilities come down to who is willing to make the race and we wanted to be those riders.
Being aggressive isn’t just one moment of attack. Before that moment there is an orchestrated sequence of events carried out by different members of the team. Emma Norsgaard our 18 year old last minute substitution, had to get over La Vecquee and help me on the descent; Ann-Sophie Duyck buried herself to survive long enough to place me leading into the La Roche; Cecilie Uttrup Ludwig had to lead me out into Saint-Nicolas. As we approached Côte de La Roche, everyone had done their part so it was my turn to execute.
We hit the bottom of the climb and I attacked. The big players followed. The same three riders I was with in the final hundred meters of Flèche were on my wheel: Anna van de Breggen, Annemiek Van Vleuten, and Megan Guarnier A group joined us from behind and, after two moves were neutralized, Amanda Spratt got away solo.
On the penultimate climb, it was time to swing again. We hit the bottom and I attacked. Anna and Annemiek followed. I pushed the pace but at the top Anna counter-attacked, eventually bridging across to Amanda. I was left with Annemiek glued to my wheel.
I could see Anna and Amanda up the road but I knew Annemiek was not going to help me chase her teammate down. I also knew there was a group chasing us from behind. My brain ran queries, trying to figure out the best move. The odds were, let’s just say, unfavourable but I owed it to the team to try. I knew it was going to take some miracle to finish third but maybe we would rejoin? Maybe I had enough to hold off the chasing bunch behind us and finish at least fourth. We hadn’t shown up to race Liege conservatively.
I put my head down and went for it. I could almost feel the weight of Annemiek in my legs as I towed her to the line. Naturally, she attacked and out-sprinted me but I had managed to hold off the chase pack and finish in fourth.
Of course we wanted to win, to get a podium, but when the ride from start to finish is that exciting, when your team spirit is unmatched in the pro peloton, when you race that big, you definitely have no regrets.
Podium at Fleche Wallonne
Danger, danger, danger, danger… I could feel a prickle of panic rise up in my body as Canyon’s lead out into the Côte de Cherave unleashed a threatening breakaway. We weren’t represented. Up until now the day had gone perfectly but, with 30km to go, that was rapidly changing.
We were down to two riders, Cecile and myself, having recently lost our other key player Marie in a crash. I had been lucky to avoid the stack but with only two pairs of legs and a 25 second gap no one wanted to close, the odds didn’t look good. Still, we had one card to play.
In the effort of her life, Cecille drove the pace on the front of the bunch. With barely any help from other riders, she rode herself into the ground, but managed to keep the gap steady and the break within striking distance. As we climbed up the Côte de Cherave for the last time, I passed Cecille and knew the rest was up to me.
We bounded onto the Mur de Huy. The breakaway was just in front of us, the catch timed perfectly, and I fed off the energy my team had put in to get me there. This was as high stakes as it gets. Go too early on the steep Mur and you can literally blow up in the last 100m and lose the race. I was the first rider to make contact with the break, and as we all merged and split again it was Megan Guarnier, Anna van der Breegen, Annemiek van Vleuten, and me. The climb got steeper as I took the lead.
The average gradient of the Mur is 9.6% but there are parts up to 26%. The steeper it is, the more each pedal stroke hurts but the steeper it is, the better it suits me. We had planned exactly where I would attack. I had watched past videos of past winners. I had landmarked the brick building on the left as my signal. There comes a point where you have to push all the chips in and this was it.
Except I was boxed in. Pinned to the barriers and then stuck behind in second wheel, Boels did an excellent job of keeping me right where I couldn’t attack. I tried to go left, then right, then left. “Let me out,” I wanted to scream. Catching a sliver of space, I slammed my pedals and aggressively slipped through a small gap on the left. My attack point had come and gone and with only 150m to go, it was time for everyone to lay their cards on the table. Anna van der Breggen sprinted into first while I gave everything to proudly finish second.
I’d love to win but second at Flèche Wallonne is fantastic, especially after the team worked unbelievably well. Let me just say that I got up on the podium as an individual, but I wasn’t just up there as Ashleigh Moolman-Pasio; I was on the podium representing the 10-person kick-ass Cervelo-Bigla team (staff included) that finished second in a World Tour race. Guess we played our cards right.
