Etape
du Tour Act II.
It all started many years ago glued to the television in
awe of those gladiators on two wheels fighting for the honour and privilege to
wear a coloured jersey, I said to myself ‘I’ll ride one of those stages’
(preferably flat) as a someone from Hertfordshire major climbs do not exist.
Then a little while ago by chance I
sat next to a gorgeous blonde in a bar and when asked to name one of my
ambitions I repeated the very line muttered to myself. Anyway, that gorgeous
blonde and I got engaged earlier this year and the future Mrs S got a diamond
ring and this lucky lad got the golden ticket, bib and rider number 9656 of
10,000 entrants for this EdT act II – Pau to Bagneres-du-Louchon. A mere
125miles, 5000 meters of climbing, taking the Aubisque, the Tourmalet, Aspin
and the Pyresourde.
Having arrived in Pau on the Thursday (12th),
the city was just preparing for the arrival of the tour with parking bay being
cleared and shop windows being dressed, like this chocolatier’s with solid bars
of chocolate.
We took in a little of the city, albeit an overcast day and
the mountains looked mere lumps and nothing we couldn’t cope with, we bolstered
ourselves with a beer and toasted the tour and paid our respects to the
mountains and we went back to the hotel.
Well what a contrast Friday was, glorious sunshine and
those lumps that were nothing to worry about became monsters, a wall of rock
laid out in front of us and the bravado suddenly had all gone. We assembled the
bikes rode to the registration village to sign on and off we went for a little leg
warming loop in to the countryside, hoping to stop at a cafe for a light lunch.
Finding ourselves in the foothills and not a cafe in sight we returned to Pau
hungry and dehydrated where a kindly madam whose cafe was just closing took
pity on us and gave us something to eat and drink.
That night we settled down to dinner at the hotel at 19.30,
where we tried to consume more carbs and calories before retiring for an early
night.
After a 4am breakfast we rode off to the start in the dark
and went to our holding pens, I was in the last (8,500 – 10,000). Then a good
45 minutes after the elite riders were long departed I rolled to the start line
and 10 minutes later the broom wagon left to follow us. No pressure then, and
for one poor sole who punctured at the start they were swept up before leaving
the square.
Having packed every item of cycling gear I owned I settled
on arm warmers shower cape, but no overshoes as the forecast was light rain but
becoming brighter. Others however had decided to travel light.
Taking the advice of an Etape veteran at dinner the
previous evening I took the pace steady arriving at our first climb Aubisque at
25 miles averaging around 20 mph. Then there before us was the sight of my
first ever switch back, let the climbing begin. The higher we rose and further
we rode the cloudier it became and by the time we reached our first feed
station visibility was no more than 50 metres and the mist had soaked us. A short
stop to refuel and there was stories of people being swept up by the broom at
the base. The plan was to keep it steady and it was working, hoping from group
to group ahead of me and beating out a steady rhythm and then after around 11
miles the summit, oh what joy! Time for a quick photo opportunity.
The decent was a hazardous 12 miles as visibility was poor
and all those views that everyone eulogises about, they were somewhere beyond
the cloud. At the bottom and along the valley it was dry and warm enough to dry
us out and as on the previous miles the roads were lined with well wishers,
adults and children offering food and drink, cheering ‘Bravo’ and ‘Allez
Allez’, heart warming and somehow I don’t think it would happen here in the UK.
After brief respite the slow climb of around ten miles to
the base of the Tourmalet began. Switch back after switch back people cheering
cow bells ringing the sign said 1 km to feed station, I felt good, no one had
passed me and the strategy employed to date was working. Another brief stop,
the Mavic guys were luckily underutilised and ahead was the last brutal 8km
shrouded in mist
In to the clouds we went and visibility was down below 20
meters and all around you could hear the clanging of cow bells, not spectators
this time as out of the mist came cows walking in to the road, an unexpected
obstacle, but I had been warned. On, and on leg sapping climbing, hoping from
one group of riders the next, well wishers camped out along the edges of sheer
drops there early for the tour. 1km to go and suddenly an unexpected ramp up in
gradient, up out of the seat with the legs burning, in the distance cheers and
then out of the mist the giant greeted me!
No time to stop the broom wagon was 20 minutes behind. Off
down the decent. Now I like descending but this was scary! The rain was lashing
down visibility at the top was almost nonexistent and the switch backs keep
coming. Then policeman on a corner waving a slow down sign and blowing his
whistle, round the bend and in the middle of the road 3 donkeys were walking toward
me. Racing down, getting colder and colder another policeman slowing us; as a kind
farmer had left the road covered in dung and it was like being in cow pooh
alley. The time I was hoping to make up on the descents was evaporating it was
too dangerous. People had stopped all along the road, ill prepared and freezing
cold and finally I had to stop, I couldn’t grip the brakes any longer, I
couldn’t feel them. A quick warm up and off again, passing a guy with a broken
spoke on his front wheel, madness, he asked if I felt it was safe to keep going
at 20mph downhill. I was looking forward to the climb up Aspin just to warm me
up and as I entered the village of Saint Marie-de-Campan they closed the course
and I become the latest victim of the broom wagon.
Only 3,800 riders
managed to finish out of a supposed 10,000 and the fastest time recorded was 6
hours 44 minutes and I’m happy to say that Simon, my travelling partner is a lucky
owner of a finisher’s medal – well done buddy!
Roll on October when next year’s tour is announced. The
future Mrs S is wondering whether we’ll ever find the time to get married.
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