LIMITED Queens.

Vuelta a España.

By Black Sheep Cycling

August 15^th, 2021

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Vuelta a Espana.

LIMITED Queens is a unique - and uniquely different - evocation to the Grand Tours. An ode to the Queen Stages. The hardest, most demanding and most prestigious stage of the race. The day when 3000 kilometre Tours are won, or dreams lost.

When you are crowned a King. Or derided as a court jester.

With our LIMITED Queens release, we have taken inspiration from the Queen stage of all three of the major Grand Tours; Giro d'Italia, Tour de France, and currently, the Vuelta a España.

Here at Black Sheep, we're all about storytelling. With the Vuelta Espana now underway, and the upcoming release of our LIMITED Queens, we thought what better way to tell a story, than from the riders perspective of the Spanish monster itself.

Etape de la Reina. By Hugo Carlos

“How are the legs Hugo? Today is your day.”

Jordi Fernández, the team Sports Director seems unusually tense, discussing tactics and boosting the moral on the team bus. Us riders robotically nod back, taking it all in, a bundle of nerves. We’re at the start of La Vuelta’s Stage 18, preparing as we normally would for any stage or race. The routine is a welcomed distraction. But we all know deep down that today won’t be just any old race day. It’s the Queen Stage. A day where dreams will be made. Or souls crushed. Kings will be crowned. And the jokers will be unmasked.

In typical Vuelta fashion, the race up until now has been nothing shy of brutal. My legs ache. My lungs burn and I long for the finish in four days’ time. When I can hang up my bike. Hug my family. And stop spending every second of every damn day completely consumed by this race. I constantly think about it. About my rivals. What looms ahead. What the team expects of me and what I could be doing differently. It’s a never-ending cycle and it’s starting to get the better of me.

I’ve been a nervous wreck this morning. I feel like the pressure is on the brink of exploding within me. Following yesterday’s mountain battle up the unbearably tough Lagos de Covadonga, I can’t quite fathom the idea of doing it all over again today. Battling with the leaders. Fighting for every precious second. My mind and body are in pieces.

I’m once again intruded by my obsessive, reluctant thoughts.

‘Stay positive Hugo… your body knows what to do’.

Like many athletes, I’m a bit of a headcase. An over-thinker. A mindless worrier. I need to stay positive. My competitors will be feeling exactly the same, if not worse. I’ve done the hard work. More than they have. Or at least, I need to believe that to win today. I’m ready.

It could be worse. We won’t be facing the dreaded Angliru, after all. I flood with fear at the thought of it. That bastard. Memories invade my head as I think back to last year’s race. I was leading and could taste the sweet smell of victory. Of that much sought after Maillot Rojo. I could almost feel it being placed on my shoulders. Like a King being crowned. The moment didn’t last. Soon enough, the Angliru worked its magic, took me in its grasp and broke me to shreds. The memory of desperately crawling to the line, knowing I’d lost it all has stayed with me every day since. I can’t help but feel afraid of history repeating itself today. But the burning fire of revenge within me overpowers it. I’m ready to fight back and take what should’ve been mine. My team believes in me. It’s time I did too.

Today we face a new monster – the Gamoniteiro. A first timer to the race, presenting a whole world of unknowns. I quickly fight back the daunting feelings of uncertainty, not knowing this so called beast of a climb. Referred to as the Giant of Asturias by many. Perhaps even harder than the Angliru. Although, that’s difficult to believe. Steeper from the foot at least. So I’m prepared to suffer like no other from KM 0. Three other categorised climbs precede it, so I’ll already be in a world of hurt. But so will they.

You’ve got this, Hugo.

15km of relentlessly steep ascent. 10-12% average gradients for its entirety with ramps up to 17%. That’s where I’ll pounce. I thrive off those vertical ramps. It’s like a moment of euphoria when attacking on a steep section. Pressing through an electric shudder of pain until it suddenly becomes numb. Looking back and seeing the suffering on your arch rival’s face. That moment you realise that you’ve got them. You’ve got this. Then pressing on through the blurred vision, blanking out the constant buzz of the raging crowd. In that moment, they’re like a furious pack of wild animals, chasing you down, roaring at you to go faster. Then it’s all about emptying every last ounce of energy you have left. No looking back until you cross that line. Overcome with a mixture of pure exhaustion, uncontrollable happiness and relief.

Oh how I’ve dreamt about this moment since the day my father took me to watch my first Vuelta as a child. From that day, a new light inside me was ignited and it’s burning oh so bright now. I live for it. I train for it day in and day out. Today’s my day to be the King of the Queens.