Torsten and I rolled up to the start line in Sillian in high spirits and relatively well rested. After yesterday's hussar ride, we were allowed to start the race from the first starting block today - right next to Transalp legend Karl Platt! That's extra motivation and makes our chests swell a little with pride. A quick selfie and - bang - the pack was sent out onto the piste.
The first five kilometres were a brisk ride on cycle paths - a kind of warm-up before the lactate starts to bubble in the muscles on the climbs. But it wasn't to come to that at first. At kilometre seven, my rear wheel suddenly reported a loss of pressure. A quick look at the tyre revealed a small cut in the cover. Most likely caused by a shard. Bollocks! Even the sealant in the tyre couldn't close the hole.
Sausage against cut: When the tubeless tyre runs out of air
But nowadays there are all sorts of helpers in a pinch: namely my team-mate Torsten and his "salami"! Not a real sausage, of course, but a kind of rubber sausage which, ironically, is threaded into a needle and inserted into the hole in the Tubeless tyres (Link: ) and then seals it airtight. Quickly inflated and chased after the pack at full throttle.
Unfortunately, this mishap happened at the beginning, when the field was still close together and we lost a lot of places as a result. But hey, the stage had only just begun (hahaha). And thanks to the sky disco with bright flashes of lightning and deafening claps of thunder the night before, the planet had also cooled down pleasantly.
As a result, we put a lot of power on the chain and quickly gained a few places back. The elevation profile up to kilometre 45 had been chosen by the course director so that every climb could be ridden slightly above the limit - an intensity range that would definitely have caused the legs to explode on a long climb.
The executioner lurked nastily at the end of the stage today: at kilometre 45, he confronted us and tried to bring us to our knees with a never-ending 800-metre climb up to Kronplatz. However, we quickly found our rhythm and pedalled up towards the summit like machines. But Mr Scharfrichter still had an ace up his sleeve: The ride over the previous saw blade profile was to catch up with me and lead me with cramps - instead of to the Kronplatz - into the valley of pain. Ouch!
Checkmate the executioner, inspire the competition
Was that supposed to ruin a conciliatory finish after the flat tyre at the start of the stage? No! Of course, I have devised many a strategy in recent years to checkmate the executioner. And so my little salt shaker came into play again. But another situation played into my hands: our direct rivals in the overall standings appeared in front of me. This motivated me even more and after a few hairpin bends later, Torsten and I reached Kronplatz with our competitors in tow. We knew about our downhill strength and therefore went into the final downhill "relaxed".
On the last few metres of altitude, the weather opened its floodgates and the temperature decided to make its way down earlier than we did. Now let's get down! Wet to the bone, we wound our way down into the valley on the finest trail meandering. With every metre, not only did the altitude drop, but so did our body temperature. Highly focussed, we cut precisely through the berms with our race files - left, right, left right, jump, brake and the next steep bend was just around the corner. We were in the flow! Slippery roots and razor-sharp stones spiced up the trail salad with a good dose of adrenalin. An amazing feeling!
Unfortunately, this was not to last until the finish. One of these razor-sharp stones sliced open the sidewall of my rear tyre and forced us to take another break. Frozen, with chattering lower jaws and shaky hands, we had no choice but to take a tube. As if that wasn't annoying enough, my spare tube already had cavities and blew out the air that had been pumped in. So Torsten's inner tube had to be used. After more than ten minutes, we resumed the race and slithered our way to the finish line in Bruneck, half chilled, half delirious and with swollen hands. What a day!
Shortly afterwards, the stage was cancelled by the race organisers due to the bad weather, meaning that not everyone made it to the finish today.
