UCI Gran Fondo World Championships - back to racing!

It’s been a while since I wrote a blog, so here’s my story from the 2023 UCI Gran Fondo World Championships.

First a bit of background, from the UCI website;

The UCI Granfondo World Series (former UCI World Cycling Tour) is a series of UCI-sanctioned races held all over the world. Some 25-30 qualifier events will qualify the top 25% in each age group to the UCI Granfondo World Championships, the former UCI Masters Road World Championships, where the champions are awarded with the coveted rainbow jersey. After its launch in 2011, the UCI Granfondo World Series entered the 2022 season with additional events.

While promoting high level competition for Masters and Amateurs, one of the aims of this series is the globalization of “Cycling for All”. With that in mind, the geographical spread of the events is very important, alongside with strict organizational and sporting criteria, and a certain tourism interest.

The UCI Gran Fondo World Series concept is focusing on both very competitive riders who either just miss the skills and talent to become a Pro Elite rider or who still want to compete at a high level at a later age, but also to fun riders who like to keep fit and finish the event.

The series is particularly significant to me because, as you probably know, I was UCI President from 2013 to 2017, during which time we expanded and developed the calendar and status of the series. So for me it was quite a heart-warming experience to actually be a participant in the 2023 final, having qualified (despite a crash on the last hill) at the Tour of Cambridgeshire.

It was also great to see a number of top ex-professionals taking part in the different age groups, including Jonny Hoogerland (famously entangled in a barbed wire fence at the 2011 Tour de France), and Alexandr Vinokourov (winner of the 2012 London Olympic Road Race Gold Medal and [in]famously involved in all sorts of controversies during his time as a rider and team manager).

In fact, those controversies continued into my time as UCI President, when at one point I told the media that, following a number of doping cases, his Astana team were “drinking in the last chance saloon”. But that’s a story for another day. These days, Vino cuts a more relaxed figure, and has improved the image of the team considerably, not least by signing Mark Cavendish, giving him another chance to add to his tally of Tour de France stage wins. Having chatted to Vino earlier in the week, it was clear he was serious about his Gran Fondo ambitions, especially as a World Champion’s jersey was lacking from his trophy cabinet.

But to focus on my own Gran Fondo experience, well, overall it was pretty good really. I didn’t have the best preparation, having picked up a dose of Covid during a week in the Dolomites at the end of June, in what was intended to be my final training camp, but I had a period of rest and recuperation and was more or less fully recovered. Here’s the route and the race profile.

Like many others, I guess, I booked accommodation with Sportive Breaks, the appointed travel agency. The information they sent out was comprehensive and useful, though the hotel prices were obviously considerably hiked up for the Championships. Although I’d paid for 3 nights half board at the Premier Inn in Perth, I only had one evening meal there, the night before the race, and was disappointed that there was only one choice of main course for Sportive Breaks clients – prawn linguini, which contained the grand total of 3 prawns! I didn’t want any stress the night before the race, and also I’m English, so I didn’t complain.

I quite often stay at Premier Inns, when I’m riding Masters races or sportives for instance, and this one was quite new and in good condition. But I found it odd to have to re-register my key card each day, and only realised after a couple of days that you had to register at reception each day if you wanted to have your room cleaned and bed made up. I’ve never come across that at any other hotel.  That said, the bed was comfortable, there was no problem taking the bike into the room, and the breakfasts were excellent.

The main advantage of staying in the city centre was the proximity to the start, literally a couple of minutes away. So, on the day, I was up and about in good time, bike prepared and kit ready. After a quick look at the first part of the course earlier in the week, I was reasonably confident that I could cope with the most difficult climbing sections, which were mostly in the first quarter of the race, but you can never be sure. As the saying goes, it’s the riders that make the race, and although I recognised a few names from last year’s results, I had no real idea of the standard of the foreign competitors.  

Leaving the hotel, I dropped my daybag/rucksack off at the entry to the pens, and lined up alongside the River Tay with everyone else, making my way to the 70-74M start pen (which also included older riders), and chatting with some fellow Brits, including regular Masters competitors such as Alistair Cameron, David Deakins, Paul Townsley, and Rob Stones, the last two being in the 75-79M group.

It was nice to see all the Brits in one form or another of national kit. I’d chosen the official Great Britain Cycling Team training jersey in blue rather than the white version, because I felt a bit uncomfortable wearing the elite riders’ white jersey. But no criticism of anyone else intended, we all looked great, and I noticed all the French, Swiss, Dutch and other riders were in various versions of their national kits too.

Fortunately the weather was dry and around 17C with light winds, so just about perfect for racing. The start was well organised too, with clear signage and helpful stewards.

As the UCI commissaires passed through the different pens, checking random bikes for weight and hidden motors, it was good to meet some old friends and colleagues again (I qualified as a UCI Commissaire back in 1986). But it was a new experience for me to have my bike scanned for a hidden motor. Ironically the commissaires were using the iPad-based system that we introduced during my time at the UCI in 2016 – a system that has been unfairly criticised.

The simple fact is that on the very first occasion that the system was used, we caught a rider, and perhaps more importantly put the wind up anyone who was thinking of cheating through this type of technological fraud. So I can tell you that it certainly does work, despite the fact that some of the media fell for the myths that were promulgated at the time by various people for their own ends. Again, a story for another day!

So, as the time approached for the start, younger groups set off, and we all moved forward to the start line. Suddenly we were off and a brisk pace was set going through the streets of Perth, heads up like lycra-clad meerkats, dodging the traffic islands and occasional parked cars.

Onwards onto the first short drags out of the town, nothing too challenging, but quite a high speed and at that point I certainly didn’t feel that I “had good legs”, to use a current phrase. In fact, I felt pretty poor at first, not in danger of being dropped, but not exactly flying either, and I began to think I might struggle later.

As we continued along wider roads and things calmed down a bit, I started feeling calmer myself and moved forward whenever a gap opened up, always staying in as much shelter as possible from the fairly light crosswinds. Of course everyone else had the same idea, so we had the usual “washing machine” effect. Generally, the standard of riding was quite high, there were few silly manoeuvres, and as long as you stayed vigilant it felt pretty safe.

After about 8 kms, we had the first turn off the main road and onto the narrower lanes, with the first few climbs, still nothing too challenging, but it began to be clear who the strongest riders were. A sharp left turn after 14 kms, and we were into the first real challenge, a long exposed uphill straight, with a crosswind pushing everyone into the left hand gutter. Despite some of the stronger riders making it hard, most of us survived and there was a bit of an easing at the front, over the top. Then we were into a few kms of rolling roads, followed by a fast and mainly downhill stretch, heading west towards the hardest climbs of the day.

Having ridden the first part of the course two days before, I knew that on the approach to this section, after about 21kms, there was a sharp right-hander followed by a short descent then a climb of about 1km, up through a wooded area, with the steepest section of about 8% at the start, easing off to 3% towards the top. Nothing too difficult, but it was important to be near the front, then not let any wheels go.

Again, it seemed like others had the same idea, and as soon as were onto the climb the stronger riders moved to the front, with last year’s winner Rudolf Sluyts of Belgium clearly determined to burn the rest of us off his wheel. He didn’t succeed, although at this point a number of riders were dropped, thinning the bunch down considerably. On we continued at a high speed, with lots of short climbs hurting the legs and lungs, attacks and counter attacks from several of the French team and a couple of the Brits, until we began a long fast descent, followed by a sharp left turn after 37kms, another short climb and then on into another crosswind section, this time heading north, then down through Bankfoot, over the river and down another fast descent into Caputh.  

At this point I had a look around, assessed the situation and had a word with myself. I didn’t have the best legs, I didn’t feel I had it in me to ride off the front, but I was pretty sure I wasn’t going to get dropped. The French were chasing down every attack, but none of them were strong enough to make a lone break stick, though to be fair they had a good few tries.

My best plan therefore was to use my experience to position myself well near the front of the bunch, keep my nose out of the wind as much as possible, watch out for a small group going away, join them if possible, but make sure I had as much as possible left for what was inevitably going to be a sprint finish of some sort. I’d been drinking my SiS GO electrolyte (other brands are available!) and some still water, so was well enough hydrated. And as we entered the final third of the race on the outskirts of Blairgowrie, I took out a Double Espresso gel, making sure I got as much down as possible. 20 kms to go. Game on!

I’d taped the route profile to my handlebars, and was checking the race distance on my Garmin, so I knew there was just one more climb before the finish, about 1km long but only a short stretch of it above 3%, the rest mainly 2%. A lone Frenchman attacked, and hung out front for quite a way (chapeau, mon ami), but never got out of sight and was duly reeled in as we approached that climb, which was more of a main road drag than a serious kicker. I expected our Belgian chum Sluyts to attack and had been ready to try to follow him, but in the end he made only a half-hearted effort and I was blocked in anyway.

From there it was fast and downhill, just 10kms or so to go, there seemed to be about 40 riders left and clearly it was going to be a bunch sprint. Into the last 5kms and we hurtled around a new roundabout, some going one side, some the other, not much advantage either way. A fast moving peloton, with no quarter given as we all tried to move up and protect our positions.

Into the last 2kms and the finish was approaching fast. I’d checked it out before, a very tight 140degree turn through narrow gates into the grounds of Scone Palace, then a more or less flat, narrow, barrier-lined, stretch, with about 600 metres to the finish – too far for a full gas sprint all the way, I figured, but definitely you’d need to be in the first ten through the gates. We’d been told that there would be a gentle funnelling of the last stretch on the main road, so that it wouldn’t be too brutal into that last turn, but in the end it was quite a short stretch and if anything it made it even more hectic on the approach to the gates.

Forty or so guys, all with the thought of a rainbow jersey awaiting them, and we squeezed through the gates as fast as we could, in the best position we could. 600 metres to glory. I got through in the first dozen or so, then a French guy pulled his foot off the pedal right in front of me. I got round him pretty quickly but it cost me a few precious places. By now there was no finessing, it was every man for himself. The first three or four may have been able to gather their breath and time their sprints to their best advantage, but the rest of us were fighting for every metre, searching for any gap, squeezing through, just putting down as much power as we could without risking life and limb.

With about 200 metres to go, I could see the finish gantry approaching fast, and still a dozen or so riders ahead of me on this narrow driveway, so I knew a jersey or a medal were not possible. I kept it going, managed to pass another couple of riders, could see another couple in my peripheral vision, trying to pass me, but held on and held on, breathing through my ears, well into oxygen debt, heart rate sky-high, smashing the cranks round as best I could, and suddenly it was over!

I felt sure I was in the first dozen, but you can never be certain till you see the results. Through the stewards, handing back the timing chip, and collapsing happily onto the well-manicured lawns of Scone Palace, I gathered my composure and contemplated the day. It had gone well. Chatting to some friends from earlier groups, I eventually realised I’d finished 10th in the 70-74M category, and best of the Brits. A little later, I got the link to the timing website and confirmed it for myself!

I couldn’t have done any better on the day, in the circumstances. Maybe a few places higher if I’d ridden a suicide mission into the last turn – but after an up and down season in terms of both health and race results, I am indeed happy with that.

Congratulations to everyone who finished in their respective categories. Some great rides and great results in both M and F categories across the groups. Apologies for those I didn’t mention by name in the report of my race, I didn’t recognise everybody and didn’t have pen and paper to hand to make notes of who was doing what mid-race(!), but there were indeed some strong riders from many countries who made an impact on the race. Oh, and chapeaux to all the medallists, wherever you came from!