A wrong turn in the Basque Country

Another mis-step at Itzulia, a race dearly in need of some positive press

What is going on this season? If it’s not race routes being altered or shortened, or stages cancelled entirely as a result of mad weather conditions (Paris-Nice, something else, Volta Catalunya), then it’s cars on course (Étoile de Bessèges), wrong turns (Faun-Ardèche Classic) and winners who are winners until they aren’t (Volta ao Algarve, Itzulia). Despite the best efforts of everyone involved, getting from A to B in a bike race is no longer simply a matter of following the lead car, the course markings and the race officials signals, and ending up where you’re supposed to be without having to engage brain. Instead, town planning is throwing a big old spanner in the works by having – y’know – roundabouts and that sort of thing. How very inconsiderate of them.

A roundabout can be a fine thing in a bike race – there’s something quite hypnotic about watching a peloton moving parting down the middle like a technicolour river flowing around a stubborn rock and flowing back into one glorious high-speed mass on the other side as they proceed along their way. They can also be a bloody nightmare, if you happen to pick the wrong side and end up going the long way around while everyone else zooms merrily along the path of least resistance. Yesterday though, at Itzulia Basque Country, such a situation actually allowed for a race-winning move, as Cofidis’ Alex Aranburu seemed to cut a fair chunk of extra road out of his path to the finish line on stage 3, making fools out of the rest of the small group who were chasing victory as he gained a huge margin on them.

Was it foul play? The organisers initially believed so – the Spaniard was later disqualified by the race jury and the second-placed rider, Groupama-FDJ’s Romain Grégoire, awarded the win instead – his second of the season. Incredibly, Grégoire’s first win at the Faun-Ardèche Classic came under very similar circumstances, as two-thirds of the small group that would contest the victory took a wrong turn at the final roundabout, leaving the Frenchman to storm to victory.

This time around it felt almost like the exact opposite of stage 1 of the Volta ao Algarve – remember that one? The one where it was supposed to end in a sprint, but almost all of the bunch went the wrong way and ended up riding along the road on the wrong side of the barriers, BEHIND the assembled crowds of fans, while Filippo Ganna went on to ride to victory, as one of the few riders to actually take the correct course? And subsequently had his win stricken from the record as the stage was declared null? Yeah, that one.

So if the Algarve situation resulted in someone going the right way, and losing out on what seemed to be a fair victory, the situation at yesterday’s Itzulia stage appeared to be the opposite at first – someone sneaking off and gaining an unfair advantage, and then being awarded the win anyway.

Watching back now, I’m still trying to piece together the timeline. Weirdly, on the British commentary not a thing was said about the possibility of this being a potential infraction, despite the vision of two neon yellow-clad officials signalling for Aranburu to go the long way around the roundabout, both lunging into his path as far as safety (or the give in their trousers) would allow, creating a pretty narrow gap for him to then work his way through, between them and the bright yellow road marking that also seemed to indicate he should go the other way. Factors which, moments later, saw every single other rider go the other way, because it seemed as though that was the instruction.

He went on to win and may have done so anyway, were it not for the deviation, as he had a gap and well, you know what chasing groups are like for deciding to hang around and stare at one another, presumably admiring each other’s bike set-ups rather than actually um CHASING. (Group two syndrome is real).

OR DID HE? Shortly after, Aranburu was disqualified from the race - THE WHOLE RACE I TELL YOU - for his infringement, which was deemed a ‘Deviation from the race course resulting in an advantage being gained’ (UCI rulebook). It seemed quite harsh - perhaps a relegation would have been more fitting - but either way, as the second-placed rider, Grégoire was awarded the win and that was that.

OR WAS IT? The plot thickened once again later in the evening as the UCI had apparently reviewed the evidence and information available to them, and deemed that Aranburu had followed the instructions in the road book, and as such was reinstated as winner of the stage. The reason given was as follows - from the UCI’s official communication: ‘In accordance with Article 1.2.064 of the UCI regulations, "Riders must study the course in advance." In this case, the rider correctly followed the planned route.’

While on the one hand, it’s good to see a rider commended for doing his job, there’s no doubt that the signage and signalling indicated for the riders to go the other way. And also, by way of equity, I must protest - JUSTICE FOR GANNA. By these standards, Ganna should have been lauded for actually going the right way at the final of stage 1 of the Algarve, not had his win stricken from the record. The lack of consistency is just another reason to wring hands, as the UCI somehow manage to make the right decision, but still make it feel somehow… wrong.

Roglič on a high before it all went south at Itzulia 2024 (image credit: Wikimedia Commons)

In terms of the race organisation itself, it’s not a great look. They accepted that the roundabout had incorrect signage, though it was the UCI who ultimately made the calls - both in terms of DSQ’ing Aranburu, and reinstating him - and it’s the last thing they needed, as for the second year in a row, we’re talking about the race for the wrong reasons. But if it’s a toss-up between a mass crash and a silly mix-up with the route, I know which one I’d prefer.

Ripples from last year’s race are still disturbing the surface of the metaphorical pond, to the point that I’ve found myself struggling to engage with this year’s race thus far (I am currently finishing off editing this post rather than watching the race live), perhaps out of an underlying sense of worry, or even a kind of resurfacing trauma as I can’t help but cast my mind back to last year’s terrible crash (opting not to say ‘PTSD’ as it feels a bit dramatic). I wrote about how these events impact on fans at the time, and while there’s always a nagging sense of guilt about making it ‘all about me’, it’s really not, because we all experience the shock waves from these serious crashes, whether we’re on the emotional or the pragmatic end of the spectrum of human experience. Sure, you may not have had the same visceral psychological damage that many of us seemed to suffer, but at the most basic level, we were all deprived of seeing the Tour de France play out with a fully fit set of top favourites. The riders themselves of course dealt with the physical and psychological trauma – but they are all absolute terminators, and to a man, they’ve bounced back – the resilience of these athletes continues to astound me.

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The race deserves not to be tarnished by recent history, though.

Passionate fans, ridiculously steep uncategorised climbs, often beautiful weather and rolling countryside that’s easy on the eye, the Basque Country is arguably one of the best places to stage a bike race. Prior to last year’s fateful events, I have nothing but good memories of watching the race, and I’m busy catching up on the stages so far so that I can try to embrace the rest of this year’s race, roundabout shenanigans notwithstanding. While all the ‘big names’ have opted not to return this year – whether down to bad memories or simply scheduling, we can only guess – we are left with an interesting and open GC race, which will likely see UAE Team Emirates dominate (when don’t they), along with a set of exciting, aggressive racers who should animate on a parcours that doesn’t rely on long climbs, rather stupidly steep pitches and rolling terrain that always draws out attacks. Julian Alaphilippe, Axel Laurance, Thibau Nys – there’s plenty of names that suggest this isn’t going to be a race that’s all about the GC battle – one that, in itself, is already proving to have more twists and turns in it than expected.

As for the best bits from recent years (2024 aside), it’s a race that has been synonymous with Primoz Roglič for a time. The Slovenian, who let’s face it, bloody loves racing in Spain, won both the 2018 and 2021 editions, and has had several stage wins along the way, often in the opening day time trial.

The 2021 edition sticks in my mind though, as a particularly excellent week of racing, at least for fans of Roglič, and those still smarting from the cataclysmic upset of the final stage of the previous summer’s Tour de France (yes, the hyperbole is warranted). Featuring a young lieutenant by the name of Jonas Vingegaard, Jumbo-Visma set about ensuring Roglič’s victory, and the campaign began strongly with Roglič’s characteristic opening time trial win in Bilbao, in itself a modest reprieve, following that fateful day on La Planche des Belles Filles. Later, there was an evening of the score at least in terms of stage wins as Tadej Pogačar saw Rogla’s ITT win and raised him a head-to-head sprint for the line on stage 3, making it advantage Pog, at least in the psychological stakes.

The unshakeable elder Slovenian did not baulk at the continued success of his younger compatriot, however. It became a chess game after that, with the Dutch team relinquishing the yellow jersey the following day – to their UAE rivals no less – in an audacious move that smacked of hubris at the time, but later played right into their hands. With race leader Brandon McNulty unable to hang on during the final stage, Jumbo-Visma marked the young pretender Pogačar out of the race, using their team strength to their advantage – perhaps this was one of the key races that moved the hand of Gianetti, Matxin et al when it came to the later recruitment of a legion of the peloton’s top riders as domestiques for Pogačar. The sight of Vingegaard sticking to Pogačar’s wheel like glue on the final stage foreshadowed the future rivalry the two of them would forge – hindsight is a wonderful thing, and there’s not a Tour de France that goes by without me thinking back on this pivotal episode in their (at the time) nascent relationship on the road.

The final stage was a redemption for Roglič in more ways than one. With Vingegaard policing Pogacar’s every move, Roglič was free to launch a solo attack to bridge to the breakaway, which later dropped to a duo: himself and Groupama-FDJ’s David Gaudu. The two rode together for a time but after a brief conversation, a gentleman’s agreement sealed with a pat on the back, Roglič sent Gaudu off up the road to claim the stage win, rolling over the finish line at the top of Arrate just behind to seal the GC. In doing so, he erased some of the negativity that he had garnered earlier in the season, poaching victory at the line in Paris-Roubaix to deny breakaway underdog, the late Gino Mäder. Roglič incurred the wrath of the peloton and the ire of fate itself as he fell and lost his GC lead in the process later on in that race – and the term ‘Roglification’ was coined by Daniel Friebe to describe the cut-throat poaching of bonus seconds on the line which has remained a key weapon in the now Red Bull rider’s arsenal ever since. This gesture at Itzulia then, could potentially have been viewed as something of a settling of scores, with karma perhaps, if not the peloton at large.

Supplanting Pogačar in second place in the GC, Vingegaard and Roglič sung one another’s praises after the race, in classic mentor/protégé style. The years that followed quickly altered the dynamic between them, and the rest, as they say, is history.

It was a good year.