It's a quiet moment. Nobody is talking. Risto, the mechanic, mounts the racing bike on the roof rack of the second Bora-Argon 18 team car. Christian Pömer, the man at the wheel, switches off the air conditioning. Then Sam Bennett gets in. Over and out - the Tour debut of the 24-year-old sprinter from Ireland ends after around 30 kilometres on the 17th stage. Pömer immediately sets off again, the car remains silent. For minutes. Pömer accelerates, the tyres squeal, the Ford chases forward past the broom wagon. There is not much time on the tour to look after those left behind. The race has thoroughly battered the debutant. When the first Alpine stage begins shortly after the start with a series of attacks - even Chris Froome will later speak of a tough start - the only goal for Bennett, who has been exhausted for days, quickly falls out of reach: to reach the fateful community of those left behind in order to survive the fight against the time limit together, with a division of labour, a little help from outside and mental arithmetic. Hopeless. Because you have to make it into the Gruppetto first, even at the back of the race you have to drive fast. Mechanic Risto keeps seeing racers falling back from the back seat of the car. "It's going to be a killer stage," he surmises. Shortly afterwards, Pömer lets out a curse. The next man in the Bora jersey appears in front of the motorcade: Paul Voss. Pömer presses the accelerator into the floor pan, the engine howls. "You're trying to scare me," shouts Bennett from the back seat, skidding from right to left and right in the bends, just like the mechanic sitting next to him. The tyres squeal again. "And I thought I'd have stress in a bunch sprint," Bennett adds. He has never ridden in the Tour before. "I've done that for you more than once on this Tour," replies Pömer.
A car race is taking place behind the riders. It's about survival in the Tour. And Pömer is something of a lifesaver. With his free hand, he pulls the microphone for the team radio towards him. Voss receives clear instructions: "Eat and drink!", "Don't invest too much downhill so that you have the strength to join the motorcade on the flat." It soon becomes clear why Pömer is racing forwards like this. He hands a bottle out of the window, Voss grabs it and doesn't want to let go. "Sticky bottle" is the jargon. Voss is able to ease off a few pedal strokes, but because there is usually a police officer on a motorbike circling around those who have been left behind, the relief lasts only seconds.
SOBER ANALYSIS
A little later, the Tour radio announces: "Tejay van Garderen has been left behind!" It's a slight climb, maybe 40 kilometres to go. But the US pro, in third place overall after two and a half weeks in the Tour, can't find his stride after the rest day. Pömer passes him, van Garderen's helpers get stuck in the slipstream of the car, the Bora man takes his foot off the gas, and shortly afterwards the BMC trio passes him. "Thank you," shouts Damiano Caruso into the open car window. It becomes clear: there's no more fighting at the back, that's where cross-team alliances are forged. On days like this, the field of riders breaks up into many small groups - but each team only has two support cars in the race, not always enough to look after all their own riders. So the Bora crew looks after the men from MTN-Qhubeka, just as the Trek team looks after Pömer's problem children. Meanwhile, Pömer stops at the side of the course and leaves Bennett in the hands of the team stewards, who drive him to the hotel.
"No chance," says Pömer when Bennett is out of the car. It had actually been clear that the 24-year-old Irishman would not make it across the Alps to Paris so exhausted. The sports director had done the maths: Bennett would have had to stay in the peloton until the foot of the 2,200 metre high Col d'Allos in order to reach the finish in time. But long before that, van Garderen was also standing at the side of the road with his head bowed, the crew of the BMC car comfortingly patting him on the back. "Fighting for a podium place at the Tour and then having to sit in the car the next moment is very bitter," says van Garderen in the evening. Pömer rides past, he has other worries. Past the sprint star Mark Cavendish, who was left behind, who briefly hangs in the slipstream of the Bora car, past the world champion Michal Kwiatkowski, past the climbing talent Louis Meintjes. The Portuguese José Mendes is Pömer's next problem child - he doesn't really pedal lightly either. The third dropped rider in the Bora jersey is Bartosz Huzarski; on the next flat section they want to return to the peloton together. In fact, Alejandro Valverde and Alberto Contador suddenly appear in front of the Bora car - they are back in the better circles of the Tour, in the peloton, which has just let a leading group go and is now riding to the side of the road for a pee break. Take a deep breath.
A little later, Froome & Co get serious and disappear out of sight. Voss now rides alongside Pömer more often, he needs lots of bottles - they give him a bit of support on this difficult day. Shortly before the top of the pass, Cavendish and his helpers crank past the Bora car. Looking back, Pömer sees the broom wagon many bends further down. A rider from MTN-Qhubeka is fighting a lonely battle there. "That's what you're afraid of," says Voss later: being left behind, abandoned by all the helpers, without a team car.
WHEN THE CLOCK IS TICKING
Then it's off to the Col d'Allos. The gruppetto often has to make up lost time - it is not uncommon for those left behind to be faster downhill than the leaders. "Normally we ride very fast. But because we knew that we were in the grace period and the descent was extremely dangerous, nobody wanted to overdo it," Voss reported later. Nevertheless, the tyres of Pömer's car squeal and a racer shoots past between the vehicle and the rock face.
Pömer is surprisingly relaxed. As he does every evening, he has looked at the road book and regulations before the stage and noted down exactly how many per cent delay to the winner the last rider may have - this varies depending on the difficulty of the stage and the pace of the fastest rider of the day. "Geschke has won," says Radio Tour. For now, Pömer just looks at his watch. The time is now running against the bunch. 40 minutes for the eleven kilometres to the finish, including six kilometres of final climb to the finish - Pömer knows that's easy to manage. Then he takes the microphone: "Paul, Simon Geschke has won." Otherwise, the victory announcement for the men in the Gruppetto only means: From now on, the clock is ticking. Today, the news of his mate's triumph for the second German team Giant-Alpecin should give the Bora riders a boost. 29:54 minutes is the final result for the almost 50-man strong Gruppetto. Pömer tears the pages of the 17th stage out of the road book. Three more tough Alpine stages. Three times speed for him, three times suffering for many riders.
