Epic Gran Canaria - TOUR was there
The Plaza de Santiago in Hoya de Tunte is a very tranquil place. Especially on a Sunday morning. Sometimes someone is walking the dog, sometimes someone is walking across the square with bags of bread rolls, but mostly there is a yawning emptiness. And silence. Not today. Drummers, trumpets, dancing cyclists - the small village square seems to vibrate. Cycling shoes clack across the pavement to the rhythm of the party band.
While some, drenched in sweat and still gasping for air, turn into the plaza on their bikes, others are already munching on juicy orange wedges and dry cake from the buffet at the refreshment station.
The second stage of the Epic Gran Canaria is behind the majority of the 440 starters, and some of them are happily hugging each other. Some are gesticulating as they talk about their fight against cramps on the climb. And some are simply enjoying the warming morning sun that has made it over the roofs of the mountain village.
Epic Gran Canaria: Very good atmosphere
Horst Wallner stands in the middle of this colourful hustle and bustle, beaming. Sweat is still dripping from his helmet, he has just arrived. "All the pain and agony are forgotten! It's a great atmosphere here," he says with a laugh and proudly reports that he has improved his best time on the 22-kilometre climb from Maspalomas up to Tunte by a whopping half an hour.
Inspired by the sunshine, cheers and fellow competitors, the 55-year-old has fought his way up "the even smear", as he says in Upper Austrian dialect. And he adds: "I feel like I've been reborn." In his case, that means something.
Four months ago, Horst Wallner was still in intensive care. He broke 21 bones in his body in a serious fall down the stairs. "I'm happy to be alive," says the man from Linz. He beams at these words. The fact that he has now pulverised his best time on one of his favourite climbs is the icing on the cake of his recovery story. Until recently, he was the managing director of a regional bank, but is currently taking a career break after his accident - which he is using to cycle and sunbathe on Gran Canaria.
More and more cyclists on Gran Canaria
This is what many cyclists do in winter. More and more come to the Canary Island every year, and on some routes you can see more people on racing bikes in February than on Mallorca. The spectrum ranges from professionals to hobby cyclists. They all appreciate the stunning beauty of Gran Canaria's mountains and, of course, the reliable sunny weather. Actually.
The day before, Gran Canaria shows a different face. The first stage of Epic Gran Canaria is just one kilometre old when the heavens open. A moment ago the sun was shining over the starting town of Maspalomas, now masses of water are pouring over the peloton as it rushes through the Ayagaures valley in a cloud of spray. Sunglasses are taken off, you can hardly see anything. A young German attacks at the front: Nick Bangert from the third-class professional team P&S Benotti breaks away from the peloton together with the Spanish ex-professional Haimar Zubeldia. The 18-year-old Bangert is the German junior mountain champion and chases light-footedly uphill. At the top, 490 metres above sea level, he confidently wins the first time trial of the two-stage race.
Behind them, the pedestrians pant up the first hill. The Cima Pedro Gonzalez is the warm-up programme for Epic Gran Canaria, a young event that was held for the first time in 2018 and has seen an increasing number of participants every year. The first climb, which is just under four kilometres long, forms the first of three timing zones together with the slightly ascending valley directly in front of it. Only the timekeeping segment (more about this, below), the descents are neutralised, which is a wise decision by the organisers given the sometimes very bumpy mountain roads of Gran Canaria. Especially today.
Epic Gran Canaria: Descent like a mountain stream
The first descent is more like a mountain stream in places. The narrow road from Montana la Data down into the valley is flooded by a brown stream that flows from the slopes onto the tarmac. Crashes occur despite the neutralisation. "That was catastrophic," says Gerd Jungerberg later. "I've never experienced anything like it here." The pensioner has been spending the winter on Gran Canaria for years, travelling across the island almost every day.
He has never seen such a downpour as today on an island with more than 300 days of sunshine. Some of the participants have had enough and turn off, heading back towards Maspalomas. Gerd Jungerberg feels like he has an aquarium in his cycling shoes, but he keeps going. After a short refreshment stop with cake, bananas and iso drinks, he rolls back into the valley, freezing.
Epic Gran Canaria: Stone desert under water
The landscape resembles a stony desert, that's how little it rains. Actually. Today the rain is pelting down on the riders, even on the otherwise sun-kissed south coast of the island. When the second timekeeping begins at Pasito Blanco, a jolt goes through the now smaller field. The riders immediately attacked on the waves of the coastal road. The peloton is split into many pieces. Jan Tölken is right at the front and battles his way over the next crest in a pedalling attack.
The Heidelberg native is at a training camp with friends and has the right physique for this competition. Wiry and well-trained, the 32-year-old cranks up the waves on his lightweight carbon racer. A friend has handed him a rain jacket from the side of the course - everyone in the field wants friends like him right now. Everyone is freezing. A few Spaniards are even wearing thick down jackets that flap in the wind.
Jan Tölken said before the race that he wanted to take part "just for fun", as his legs were heavy at the end of the training camp. But he pulls well on the horn in the next ascending valley. From the front, he leads the group through the valley below Soria, as if he can hardly wait for the next climb. Or maybe he's just cold. "At times I wondered whether I was really on Gran Canaria," he says later. "In some places, it was more like a race in the Alps." As the race progressed, he had hardly any feeling in his hands due to the cold.
Epic Gran Canaria: A peacock calls loudly
As the almost nine-kilometre climb from Soria begins, everyone is riding in serpentine lines. Not out of exhaustion, but because shortly beforehand a scree slope had littered the road with gravel, crushed stone and small boulders. Jan Tölken pulls away with a smaller group. The climber is in his element. Soria, which the riders now pass, is one of those picturesque mountain villages in Gran Canaria where time seems to have stood still. Small, colourful houses and lushly planted orchards line the climb, which flattens out briefly here.
A peacock calls loudly from a tiled roof, its cry echoing off the rock faces. What is it trying to say? Presumably he wants to warn us of what is about to happen: a bumpy steep section above Soria. The formerly tarmac forest path now looks more like a gravel track, with one pothole following the next. The racing bike tyres slip several times, partly because it has started to rain again after a brief interruption. Everyone in the group is now struggling with the incline, the surface and the cold, wet air.
Once we reach the summit, the mountains are covered in fog and the rain is getting heavier. This doesn't help, as the road surface deteriorates again on the short intermediate descent. The winter has taken its toll on the road, and it's been a long time since it was last repaired. A pretty nasty section of the route begins here. It is more or less constantly slightly uphill for 13 kilometres. And between the perfect tarmac, there are always sections where you would rather have a gravel bike underneath you. A huge brown bird of prey circles in the sky and seems to be weighing up whether racing cyclists are worth considering as prey.
Sun on the horizon
While the rain continues to pelt down on the dwindling group, the temperature continues to drop. The computer shows seven degrees, but it feels much lower. Behind a bend, the yellow finish arch finally comes into view, a few more kicks - done. In Ayacata, helpers are waiting with newspapers, which most people slip under their soaking wet jerseys. And all those who handed in a clothing bag with a rain jacket at the start are now happy to have a dry layer on their cold skin.
Most of them skip the refreshment station in a small village square and head straight for the descent. The race is over up here for today - and yet everyone is in a hurry to get to the actual finish: to Maspalomas, hopefully in warmer climes. After a foggy, wet and freezing cold descent, the sky actually opens up over the south of the island. The sun breaks through and illuminates the dunes on the horizon in yellow gold. Let's get there.
A colourful entertainment mix of samba dancers, drag queens and a saxophonist, plus the Spanish interpretation of tour devil Didi Senft and laid-back beats from the DJ booth await at the stage finish. There are also free massages. Race organiser Yojan Reyes stands in the middle of the hustle and bustle and takes a deep breath. The day seems to have been just as exhausting for him as it was for the riders. The weather was "really, really bad", which is not the image he wants his guests, as he calls the starters, to take away from the island.
He organises the stage race for a hotel chain and the Gran Canaria tourist office, and his media team delivers cinematic image films with drone shots and slow motions of cheerful athletes every day. Of course, the Epic is also a form of tourism marketing, but most of the starters clearly like the concept.
Vuelta a Espana on the Canary Islands?
"Even a pro like Mario Cipollini comes back every year because he likes the event so much," says Reyes, a little proudly. He used to cycle almost professionally himself, but today the Epic is his baby. Every year he receives more enquiries and entries for what he calls his "mini Tour de France". He soon wants to add a third stage to the race and join the UCI Gran Fondo World Tour. And if everything goes well, he even wants to bring the Vuelta to the Canary Islands in 2026.
The next morning, Reyes is beaming again and points upwards. There is only sky blue and the glistening light of the morning sun to be seen. The sky remains cloudless as everyone rolls off again in Maspalomas. After a brief neutralisation behind the lead vehicle, it's down to business: the car at the front pulls ahead, the road climbs steeply and the gears are shifted at full throttle with a crash. With more than 400 watts of power, the front runners race up the climb as if it were just a small hill that could be pushed away quickly. Not at all. It's 6.5 kilometres to the Mirador de Fataga with an average gradient of six per cent. And that's just the beginning of today's stage.
Epic Gran Canaria: uphill to the samba rhythm
The peloton quickly breaks up into many small groups, with the steep hairpin bends in particular separating the wheat from the chaff. At the very front, ten riders break away, behind them everyone is looking for their own rhythm. And those who overestimated themselves at the foot of the climb now get their comeuppance. Some of them drop like a stone through the field.
Spectators cheer at the top of the crest with its fantastic view of the coast and canyons. But there is no time to look to the side as a short, technical intermediate descent begins. Everyone plunges down the narrow hairpin bends, a few riders make up a lot of ground here with their daring cornering technique. Those who think less have a clear advantage. Because to the left of the road is the crash barrier and behind it: nothing. The cliff breaks off abruptly into the Barranco de Fataga, the deep dry valley in which palm trees and shrubs grow - and even more impressive: the many-armed Canary Island spurge, the green natural symbol of Gran Canaria.
Once in the valley, the road immediately climbs steeply again, with no time to catch your breath. For almost nine kilometres, the road climbs more or less steeply. In the village of Fataga, a samba band dressed all in yellow has set up with drummers, the ground seems to shake, they are so loud. But the beat fulfils its purpose: everyone suddenly drives a little faster, driven by the pulsating samba sounds. The higher you get, the more sunlight reaches the valley - and the warmer it gets. Sweat drips from your forehead and chin onto the tarmac. It has to be like this. This is Gran Canaria.
Epic Gran Canaria
Mode
Hill climb with two stages and three timings
Rating
Daily rankings and overall ranking
Route
A total of 190 kilometres, spread over two days, but only part of it will be counted (see timekeeping). The start is in Maspalomas in the south of Gran Canaria. Stage 1 goes via Ayagaures (first timekeeping) and after a neutralisation from Pasito Blanco up to Ayacata (second timekeeping).
Stage 2 leads up to San Bartolomé de Tirajana/Tunte (third time trial). The longer descents are neutralised.
Timekeeping
Maspalomas - Ayagaures (12.3 km, 470 metres in altitude), Pasito Blanco - Ayacata (24.5 km, 1304 metres in altitude), Maspalomas - San Bartolomé de Tirajana/Tunte (22 km, 925 metres in altitude).
Costs
75-155 euros for both stages, 45-55 euros for individual stages (fee varies depending on time of registration).
>> Riders without a racing licence require a day licence (10 euros).
Minimum age
Participation is generally possible from the age of 18; 15- to 17-year-olds may start with the permission of their legal guardians.
Catering
Extensive catering at the start and finish as well as on day 1 between the timings.
Track safety
The tracks on which the time is taken are closed to traffic, but the neutralised sections are not. Support motorbikes will secure the race, but it is recommended to ride on the right at all times.
Date
10-11 February 2024
