Michael Barry’s Diary: Pays Basque, a warm-up for the Ardennes?
Last Friday afternoon, under dark gray skies that made the moment feel as if night were about to fall, I stepped aboard our team bus, gingerly, and sat down. The bus was empty except for one soigneur who pulled out a washcloth and lotion and began scrubbing the grime off of my tender legs. Moments later Axel and Scott stepped on the bus, neither smiling, and sat down, legs outstretched, leaning way back in the chairs waiting their turn to get cleaned up. They looked beat, and if I could have seen my own face I would imagine it was just the same. Beat, but relieved. The last road stage of a