Victor Hugo Pena: 2004 Tour de France

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Outside Magazine, July 2004

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2004 Tour de France: The Ultimate Guide
Mountain Grown (cont.)


	"My dream is to ride for Colombia": Peña on the infamous Pescadero climb (Antonin Kratochvil)

LAST JANUARY, on Peña's final weekend in Colombia before heading to training camp in Southern California, he and I went to a race in the cold, mountainous province of Boyacá, just north of Bogotá. This is Colombia's cycling heartland, home to many of its best riders. When cycling's world championships were held here in 1995, on a course that started at 8,500 feet and climbed nearly 1,200 feet per lap, barely 20 riders managed to finish the 165-mile race. Three of them were locals, including Oliverio Rincón, whose tall, hawk-nosed brother, Daniel, is Peña's newest Postal Service teammate.

Saturday morning dawned clear and crisp, and we made our way to the red-roofed town of Tuta for a small local race. The center of town was already blocked off, with the riders busy getting ready on the main square. Besides Peña and Rincón, there was Félix Cárdenas, whose nickname is El Gato—"the Cat." Also on hand were two Vuelta a Colombia winners, Libardo Niño and Jose Castelblanco.

Several of the big guns here figure in Peña's and Raúl Mesa's plans to form the Colombian dream team. Mesa estimates that he can field a 20-rider team for $3 million, less than a third of Postal's $10 million annual budget. The top support riders would earn between $30,000 and $50,000, far less than they'd command in Europe. Peña would be happy to take a pay cut from his six-figure Postal salary, and Botero is willing to join, too—"If it is real," he told me.

The main problem is finding a sponsor. Prices for coffee—Colombia's biggest legal export—have hit rock bottom, and other sources of Colombian funding are scarce. Mesa and Peña have been trying to persuade the national flower-export board to sponsor them; to field a team for 2005, they'll need to have everything organized by this September, when riders typically sign contracts for the following season.

If the Colombian team does come to fruition, they probably won't be the types to complain about bad road conditions. The Tuta circuit looked downright sketchy, with dirt-strewn corners and sharp speed bumps on the straightaway into town. Someone set off an unnerving string of firecrackers, and everyone's head whipped around; an oompah band struck up, restoring calm. The town priest gave a blessing, praying that there would be no crashes that day, as the riders bowed their heads. Then they rolled off, led by rifle-toting soldiers on motorbikes.

The race was being broadcast on the radio, and you could hear it blaring from every bar and house at full volume. After about ten laps of picturesque Tuta, a fast-moving group of Colombia's finest pulled to the front: Niño, Cárdenas, and Daniel Rincón. Peña bided his time in the pack until five laps to go, when he sprinted clear of the bunch and easily caught the lead trio. Niño and Cárdenas attacked, trying to shake the Postal pair. Rincón almost dropped off on the climb, but he recovered, and they all ended up bunched together on the last lap. Coming into town up a short, steep hill, Cárdenas tried to slip away, shooting over the speed bumps, but Peña flew past at the last second to take the win.

By the time I returned to the town square, Peña was engulfed in a scrum of reporters and fans, packed ten deep around their gran campéon. The band struck up again, and somebody started launching huge bottle rockets, which exploded high above the church and drifted back down to earth. Peña bounded up on the stage, where he made a short, serious speech and then popped open a bottle of champagne, liberally spraying the audience, the other riders, and his ecstatic father, Hugo. It was a rare taste of victory for a man who's almost always riding for others.

Afterwards, there would be a picnic for all the riders, with plenty of beef and beer, but first there were more long speeches and another blessing by the priest. "We are all gregarios," he reminded the crowd, "for a leader in another world."

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