It was clear from the very start that this Giro d’Italia could be shaped by crashes. I wrote as much after the first stage, when many assumed Roglic would comfortably take the final win.
The crashes did come—beyond the infamous Siena stage, which some praised as spectacular and others dismissed as inappropriate for a three-week Grand Tour. Accidents happen on “normal” tarmac too, not just on gravel.
And they often happen right at the front. So there’s little point in repeating the old mantra: “ride at the front to avoid trouble.” Because even the leaders can go down.
Still, some riders stand out for their sharpness and awareness. Del Toro, for example, is not only always in the right position, but was also the only one to react to Carapaz’s move in Castelnovo né Monti—a clear sign of superior focus. And Carapaz himself, unsurprisingly, stayed upright in the chaos of Nova Gorica. Being alert in the key moments is a skill he’s built a career on.
Crashes, as we said, are everywhere. Too many, too serious. Why?
Many riders blame the increasing speeds, with Van Aert even suggesting limiting gear ratios. But is speed really the main cause?
Another issue is staring us in the face: rider positions on the bike have become extremely aggressive. Take the saddle-to-handlebar drop, for instance—these days it’s often extreme.
To be specific, for a rider who’s 1.80 m tall, after a proper bike fit, the usual drop falls between 7 and 9 cm. In the pro peloton, it’s not rare to see 14 or even 15 cm.
These are numbers only a few athletes can handle. And in many cases, riders can’t even reach the drops. As Professor Bartoli, a biomechanics expert, says: if you can’t ride comfortably in the drops, something’s wrong with your fit.
This alone should raise concerns. It means much of the peloton is riding with little to no weight on the front wheel—making it more prone to sudden slips.
And to compensate for not being able to reach the bars, riders have adopted the trend of shortening their bikes. So not only is the front light, but weight distribution is further compressed. The outcome? A bike that’s hard to handle.
To make matters worse, we’re seeing a similar pattern to what happened in the car industry years ago: increasingly fragile frames, with performance and grip left to the tires.
Too bad that wider tires—currently all the rage—are often worse in wet conditions.
In cyclocross, tire width is capped at 33 mm, but when mud gets really extreme, teams switch to narrower 30 or 31 mm setups. Why? Because they grip better.
On road stages, we deal with asphalt—not mud—but the logic still applies. Combine these elements: exaggerated riding positions, light front ends, shorter bikes, and wider contact patches that disperse pressure… and the result is clear.
In 2025, riders are going incredibly fast—but on bikes built solely for performance, with almost no tolerance for control or stability when conditions get tricky: rain, cobbles, tight descents.
Unless riders themselves become aware of the problem, crashes will continue to disrupt GC battles and reshuffle race hierarchies—regardless of who has the strongest legs.
