Ben King: Tour of Beijing

My American cycling compatriots and I pedaled over green Tuscan hills striped with vineyards and paused to sip cappuccinos at sunny cafes. In our 8th month of competition, this type of anti-stress training serves as a mental shot of espresso for the final race. It was the perfect combination of saddle time, wine, and pizza.

A chartered flight of European cyclists landed in Beijing Sunday morning for the first edition of the Tour of Beijing. On the first day training in the massive city proved impossible, so the next day we organized a caravan and drove 1.5 hrs out of the city for a ProTour group ride. A few of us explored the silk market for knock-off electronics and name brands.

Tour of Beijing: 5 stages and my first World Tour stage race (top level race with every ProTour team)

Stage 1: 11.3 km TT
Riders rocketed around the 2008 Olympic Park, launching off the start ramp and disappearing into the smog. I tucked into an aero position and considered my director, Viatcheslav Ekimov’s advice: “Go fast.” You have to process even sarcastic jokes from a three time Olympic gold medalist. In my ear piece, he encouraged me, affirmed my effort, and coached me through the course. I hunted down my minute man and caught him 2 km from the finish.

As an early starter, I could watch the rest of the race from the hotel. After my shower I was still 5th on the leader board. Organizers, however, typically reserve the best for last, and gradually I slipped into 15th, still a good result for me that shows I’m improving.

Tony Martin, the new TT world champ, smashed everyone, and Alex Dowsett, my old teammate on Trek Livestrong, took a podium spot.

Stage 2: 137 km
The time gaps between riders are small, but as our team’s top finisher, I stayed in the peloton while Dmitriy Muravyev jumped in a four man breakaway. We caught them with 15 km to go.

4 km to go. Markel Irizar attacked and held a gap for one km.

3 km to go. Riders flicked themselves through gaps, and thrust their wheels into tight spaces. Teams surged forward a few positions on the outside. Breaks locked, a BMC rider crashed beside me. His bike inverted and the wheels jammed into my frame knocking me sideways. I skidded, straightened out, and lunged back into the melee. I yielded to the proven sprinters because I know the proven sprinters are partly insane. TAP, TAP, TAP, someone snapped a spoke in their wheel. It wobbles fiercely, and we swarm around him. Two riders butt shoulders, and we juke them like a school of fish.

Under the banner twenty places ahead of me a Garmin rider throws up his hands in victory. Tomorrow is the “queen (most difficult) stage.”