The Tour de France has always been a theater of human extremes—where the line between glory and disaster is razor-thin. This year’s Stage 16, a solitary time trial through the French Alps, feels like a microcosm of that tension. Remco Evenepoel, the prodigy with a penchant for defying expectations, is staring down Tadej Pogačar, the Slovenian maestro who’s carved his name into the Tour’s history books. But what makes this moment particularly fascinating isn’t just the rivalry—it’s the quiet revolution brewing in how we value time trials in modern cycling. Personally, I think we’re witnessing the last gasp of a dying art form, and this stage might be its final hurrah.
Let’s start with the obvious: time trials are becoming an afterthought in the grand narrative of the Tour. The route today—a 26.1km loop between Evian-les-Bains and Thonon-les-Bains—is technical, yes, but it’s not the brutal, hour-long gauntlet of old. Riders like Josh Tarling and Filippo Ganna are posting sub-35-minute times, but even the best can’t quite crack the 34-minute barrier. What does that say about the sport? In my opinion, it signals a shift toward shorter, more aggressive races that favor climbers and sprinters over the methodical precision of time trialists. The GC contenders are now less likely to be all-rounders and more likely to be specialists—because the Tour is evolving into a sprinter’s playground.
And then there’s the crash. Brandon McNulty, a rider with everything to prove, collided with a member of the public during recon. It’s a reminder that the roads of the Tour are not built for bikes. These are streets designed for cars, where a single misstep can turn a podium dream into a nightmare. What many people don’t realize is how psychologically devastating such incidents are. A crash like this shatters your focus, your rhythm, your entire mindset. McNulty will race, but the shadow of that moment will linger. It’s a cruel irony that the Tour, which celebrates human endurance, often punishes riders for the very thing they’re paid to do: take risks.
But let’s not forget the drama unfolding on the clock. Evenepoel, the 22-year-old phenom, has the raw power to disrupt Pogačar’s lead. Yet, the question is whether he’s the right rider for the job. Time trials demand not just strength but mental fortitude—a relentless focus that can’t be shaken by the roar of the crowd or the weight of expectations. I’ve seen Evenepoel thrive in chaos, but this is different. This is a test of solitude, of self-confrontation. Will he rise to the occasion, or will Pogačar’s experience prove decisive? The answer might shape the rest of the race.
Looking ahead, the 2027 World Championships are set to be a 'super' event, blending disciplines in a way that could redefine cycling. But if the Tour continues to devalue time trials, what does that mean for the sport’s future? The UCI’s push for innovation is commendable, but at what cost? Time trials are the purest expression of individuality in cycling—a rider alone against the clock, no teammates, no strategy. If the Tour keeps shrinking their role, we risk losing that soul. A detail that I find especially interesting is how even the most elite riders struggle to adapt to these shorter courses. It’s as if the sport is forgetting that time trials are where legends are made, not just where they’re tested.
In the end, this stage is more than a battle between Evenepoel and Pogačar. It’s a referendum on the direction of the sport. Will cycling cling to its roots, or will it chase the spectacle of sprint finishes and mountain escapes? The answer lies in the hands of the riders, the organizers, and the fans. One thing is certain: the time trial may be fading, but its legacy will echo long after the final bell rings.
