Reasons To Be Cheerful (Pt.3)

Tuesday 21st August: day three, Couchevel 1850 to L'Alpe d'Huez

Right then, this a double-bill of BS to deal with seeing as how I was a tad too tired to write yesterday. So Tuesday's stage of 85 miles and 15000' of climbing was always going to be the worst of the lot. As it turned-out it was a 'Ronseal' stage and then some.



On the way down from Courchevel 1850 to the start. Tractor in trail. The French do love their outsized velos.



Day three: a nightmare on some bad, bad climbs!

 

Bloke's bike is really made out of bamboo.

You just wouldn't tire of this view!

Unlike this one. Who nicked my pint?

Just ridiculous.

Almost the Alpine version of 'The Last Post'. Apt.

If I look done in, it's because I am done in. Still more to go...

I was absolutely toast by the second summit (pictured above)  and really couldn't see how I was going to make it any further. Went and ploughed on down the descent anyway and onwards to the final interminable climb which merged eventually into the famous road up to L'Alpe d'Huez and our hotel.

Life imitates handle-bar tape. Or something.

It was a horrible trudge, stopping every 5 minutes for a breather and I saw a few folk pack it in (around 50 did today). By this stage there is a lot of standing out of the saddle, mainly beacuse I have a baboon's arse!

Time rolled by and eventually I saw an official timer's car behind me with about 10 uphill miles left. I expected the tap on the shoulder and for them to say 'enough' albeit in a French accent and to be honest I half-hoped that they would, but to my utter amazement the guys said that I could do it and indeed had to carry on, as I'd be letting both them and myself down if I did the 'sensible thing' and quit in order to save myself for the coming days.

All this despite being way outside the cut-off time and giving themselves an extra hour out on the course shepherding me in. Kudos to them forever for that.

I was joined by the very last rider out on the course and we followed each other up the last 6 hairpins to d'Huez with a car behind and motorbike in front. When we entered the resort I was knocked-out by the people cheering and shouting for us and the din of cars and bikes blaring their horns. Not ashamed to say that I just about cried. Big girl!

Courtesy of Tractor Productions. Cheers!

Never had such a daft day in a long time, on or off a bike. Wow!

View from our L'Alpe d'Huez hotel. Gonna sleep easy!

                                                     Epic day stats!



Wednesday 22nd August: day four, L'Alpe d'Huez Time Trial


Today was a 16km time trial from Bourg D'Oisans up the 21 hairpin bends to L'Alpe d'Huez...the record is around 37 minutes. I was hoping for anything under 2 hours! It was a spectacle at the start-line alright, although Team Lanterne Rouge took it all in their stride...

Day four: piece of le cake, ahem...

Circus or not, it was a pretty special event- how often do you get to pretend to be a real cyclist? No, don't answer...

And here I am about to launch rather unconvingly off the start-ramp...cheers Andy for filming. I think!

The weather was flawless again and I took things steady (slowly)...indeed I only passed one other cyclist and he wasn't even in our race, hah-hah! Thanks to F. Boyle for the gag below...

The 'Dutch Chuch', turn six. Schweet!

I felt alright until the end and I gave it a showboat-ish finish to bag a time of 1 hr and 33 mins, and then almost collapsed. I parked my bike with a ton of others and got some water and stretched and cheered other folk home.

The application of full-gas to the finish line. Possibly 8 or maybe 9 mph.

If I had've been staring at my bike instead of posing for finish-line photos then I might still have my Felt!

                          

Andy was thundering up the home straight and after he crossed the line he asked where my bike was so he could lean his against it...and that was when I realised it was gone. In the space of ten minutes. We searched all round and hoped that someone had taken the 'wrong' bike (unlikely) but again, no joy.

To cut a long and f**king annoying story slightly shorter, it ruined a decent 'rest' day not only for me but for Andy too, as he was a stand-up guy throughout. Cheers for that.
With the help of Haute Raute staff I filed a report at the cop shop and then set about trying to find a replacement bike. A cycle hire shop was selling off some ex-rental machines so I eventually settled on one although it was a wee bit small but the price was about right at E520. Between a rock and a hard place etc...

The pleasing thing out of this nonsense was the offer of a loan bike from a couple of fellow riders (one of which was the bamboo bike pictured above): for various reasons they weren't a go-er but it was nice to see the offer of help and sympathy anyway.

So, as excuses go for not getting this blog out sooner, I hope you see that this is a pretty good one. Next stop Risoul: I hope my new-ish wheels get me there. Cheers!

                                                       Time trial stats!

Ghost Town

Monday 20th August: day two, Megeve to Courchevel 1850



So we find ourselves on 'Team-kit Monday', hence the mildly embarrassing photo from the start this morning...

Spoiler: this photo contains only one proper cyclist. He's the one at the end. No, the other end. (L-R) Me, Mark, David, Andy, Andy Fla, Martin and Matt.

Team Lanterne Rouge suitably relaxed before the off/enduring the organisers' excruciating choice of music!

Day two's walk in the park...

Regulation blue skies. Swiss law apparently. Like.



Start of the first climb today, the Col de Saise. Ropey, but do-able. Fast, fast descent on the other side. The Tractor clocked 56.5 mph! Unreal...but totally believable even allowing for Garmin, hah-hah!



Rare shot of me taking a turn at the front for as short as is possible. Fact.

The photo above was taken not far into the 13 mile climb up to Courchevel 1850 which is where we finished: it is a guy who is an amputee, both left arm and leg who is riding the same stuff that we are. A bit humbling, and then some.

Hopefully toll free and perhaps ABBA's greatest work.

Was slightly pleased to see this beauty, because it meant this...

500m to go until...

Marinate for six hours.

That water was as cold as ice, but felt fantastic: a tough day again but nowhere near the shoeing that awaits tomorrow. 5.30am alarm...which is nice!

'Ghost Town'? Well, two reasons since you ask:

1) It's my blog and I love The Specials, and

2) Ever tried to find a restaurant that's open in off-season ski-resort?

That said, we did ok as it goes and had our first decent food. Result!

Stats of the day!

Heatwave!

Friday & Saturday 17th/18th August: Wesham to Geneva

So, it's the start of another journey and another long day. No dramas getting to Geneva via an brief overnight stop at Andy and Tish's place in MK: Virgin Trains and EasyJet even manage to deliver our bikes intact- not something that we take for granted!

The glitz and the glamour...Wesham railway station, where all epic journeys begin. Or something.

You know that you've arrived somewhere a little more up-scale when the very first bit of advertising that you see is...

You can look but you better not touch.

We're grinning because we have no clue what we have signed-up for...

Above shows two eejits who have just collected all their pre-race paraphernalia: check-out the personlised numbers...actually got a few favourable comments from the few folk that I did pass, hah-hah!

After schlepping our kit and bikes to our very handily placed hotel- at the bleedin' airport- we set about tracking down the Lord Nelson pub for food and er, a motivational talk. Alright, ale. It was quite warm, to be fair...


Have a gander at what the Euro-sessioners on the centre table are destroying. Gotta be more than a yard? A metre?



Excitement lakeside! Perhaps Phil Collins' bbq had gotten out of hand?

We attended the mandatory briefing and just about managed to stay awake: it was like Eurovision gone even more wrong than usual. Where's Tel Wogan when you need him?

Interminable. In both English and French.

We also briefly met the rest of our team, and then headed back to our delightful Ibis and a 4.50am alarm call. Ouch!


Sunday 19th August: Day one, Geneva to Megeve


We couldn't have asked for a more spectacular setting to begin all this folly: the sun was rising over the lake and managed to take our minds off what lay ahead, in between trips to the kharzi. Pre-match nerves affect everyone it seems!


With cycling partner-in-crime and bloke whose fault all this is. Still talking. Just!

Day one's "job of work"...



The shower departs Geneva. Nervous...

 

Feels a bit better once you get on with it. Although we appear to be heading towards those speed-bumps in the distance...

For the first time ever, I heard cow-bells used for real: this is the acceptable version of windchimes. I was really doubting if I could make it up the first climb but when it began I realised that this was do-able, albeit at a slooooow pace. Whether or not I would be inside the time-limit was another question...

Above is from the first climb- the Col du Romme. I was chatting to the lady in the black gear up ahead. Unsurprisingly she sped-up...

Certifiable behaviour although these guys went crazy-fast downhill apparently.  Euro-loons ahoy!

The scenery was beyond fabulous: no camera is going to match that but here goes regardless: it was a flawless sky!

Wow. No further message.

I wasn't unhappy to see the finish-line and was amazed to learn that I had snuck inside the cut-off time by 45 minutes. Miracles can happen...

The view from one side...

...and from the other. So, not too tired to showboat a little, huh?

Although I rarely say it, today was a special day on the bike. Glad I was there...thanks!

 Here's to the run continuing.

Trying to get the blood back to where it should be. Need water!


 

Hot stats...hot stats...

The Good, The Bad And The Far From Ugly

Loved being handed this envelope containing a donation from Matt, one of our bird control gurus at work today:

Gonna be a lean, lean Christmas in the Matt household...good on you!

Didn't love checking on the forecast for the kick-off on Sunday morning:

Sooooo...13% in 90f? For the love of...

Called in at Halfords (yeah I know, I know...school-boy error) to ask if they had any spare foam frame-protectors before I pack up the Felt. Of course they hadn't, but they had just taken delivery of some blank looks and mumbling. Mind you, they did also have:

Do your own captions. Cue a 'Sid James laugh'/Harold Steptoe 'Oh Faaver, you diirty old man!'.

We're closing in on £2K for L.L.R. and almost at £1K for the Air Ambulance...thanks to you!

May the road rise with you...

So we're into the final week left for training: of course the obvious thing to do is to cycle down to Manchester to see John Lydon's first love (outside of himself, obviously), namely his band PiL, play at the ironically named 'Ritz'.

It's a beautiful sight...the light reflecting off those balding pates. I'm keeping very quiet...

Aside from seeing a tight and committed band play, there was an exercise benefit in the 90-mile round trip. Although not as big a pay-off as I might previously have thought: my interest in other folks' training methods was piqued after reading a post in the Haute Route online forum and it seems that instead of riding longish and steady rides I should have spent more time attempting 'intervals'.

This is where you basically alternate short sessions of caning it with periods of slow recovery, the theory being that it brings the greatest benefit in the shortest time-frame. Well, that's my training plan for the remaining few days sorted at any rate. If all this sounds a little too much like me getting my excuses in before we start, well done you for rumbling me!

At last I've found something slower uphill than me. Hail, Centurion!

Speaking of which, I thought that I should outline my targets for these 11 days. Well, we'll worry about the first 6 days to begin with, in ascending order of difficulty/unlikelihood:

1) To finish each day

2) To finish each day inside the cut-off time limit

3) To finish in 599th place or better

4) To either pull a wheelie and/or do Usain-style press-ups immediately after crossing the finish line...any finish line!

And of course it goes without saying that I'd better enjoy it all regardless, drink in the scenery'n'beer and generally have a laugh. Now that I can do...

How about this for an opening day shoeing...a maximum gradient of 13%? Wish I had done some intervals...

"Going up the Romme was a massive surprise I can't believe they have put that in as the very first climb on the HR, the approach is on a flat road but the only way to describe what you're looking at is a wall of tarmac approaching and it really does kick at 13% immediately. Crazy climb- the most relief you get is around 6% just over half way up then as per usual out here it just goes and kicks again and again before the top."

Oh dear...that was from some bloke who has just ridden the first climb we do next Sunday, the Col de Romme.

Courtesy of Steve 'schmatter' Moran, here is a clever link which leads you up that 'orrible first climb, the  Col de Romme. Don't think that I'll be getting up quite as quick though.

Although I hate banging on about it, here are the stats again:

- We climb 120,000 feet over the 11 days. That is more than the 2012 Tour de France will climb in 21 days!

-  In 11 days we cycle over 330 uphill miles at an average 8% gradient: that's the same distance as London to Glasgow!

- To put some perspective on all this, Mount Everest stands at 29000 feet. On day 3 we climb 15000 feet. Eh, hang on...

For every £500 raised I will donate £100. Thank you!

The sponsorship is coming along and I really am hand-wringingly grateful for every single donation: we're at £1700 for Leukaemia & Lymphoma Research and £800 for the North West Air Ambulance. I know that there is still more to come...

All Or Nothing

Today marks a few things: the end of the Tour de France with enormous British success, as well as four weeks until having hopefully finished the first day of my own version of Le Tour and it is also two years since our friend Linda Wright passed away  because of cancer. Wrighty is gone but still remembered...

Bradley Wiggins was assured of victory today so it made some kind of sense to pay a tribute to him by checking out the mural of the man himself on the wall of one of his local pubs (makes him sound like a dipso) in his adopted town of Ecclestone in sunny Lancashire.



Oh no- the 'Visit Lancashire' tourist shots have begun!


On the way there I accidentally gate-crashed about 10 miles of an IronMan UK triathlon: definitely a Gump/Zelig moment, hah-hah! To be fair, they were riding on closed roads that led right past the pub that I was headed to, so...
Mind you, I got some filthy looks from a few competitors as I passed them, complete with panniers and mudguards. Cue a Nelson Muntz style "Ha ha!".



Those knee-length socks do look a bit warm. Ha-ha!



At the pub I asked a photographer Johnny to take a cheesy photo for this blog and it turns out that he was covering the IronMan event for 'The Sun' redtop-rag. despite hailing from Liverpool. Go figure...



Wiggo! I salute you. With Coca-Cola. And a 'Sun' photographer from Liverpool. My top firmly kept on. Mercy!



In other news: I seem to be ahead of the game training-wise because I have got my 'tapering' (when proper athletes wind-down their efforts prior to the big event) out of the way early-doors. This was achieved by spending a couple of days at The Open and also visiting health-conscious Dublin to see two brilliant back-to-back Springsteen shows.

So, it is back to the bike, and on the bike I stay for the forseeable. Oh hang on, courtesy of m'learned colleague Ms. Hewitt I get to see Cav tear along The Mall next Saturday to hopefully win the bloke's road race for Team GB. As you may have seen earlier today the fellow is blessed with a respectable turn of pace, no?

One other item of nonsense that I should bring to your attention is that a certain Alain 'Le Professeur' Prost ex-F1 World Champion has also signed-up for the Haute Route which forms the first six days of my challenge. Apparently the 53 year old is not only blessed with a big hooter but is a cycling fanatic and is as fit as le fiddle. He would be...

Wonder if I should steer him into a hay bale and say that's from Senna? Probably not.

Seeing as how me and my new best mate Prosty will be cycling up some frankly stupidly long and steep bits of tarmac I reckoned it might be an idea to lower my gearing even further: I offer praise to the boffins at Shimano for making a 12T-30T cassette. Seriously chaps, you're getting a Christmas card this year. Shinto or not, it's the least I can do.

As clean as that cassette'n'chain will ever be. Agent 30/30 rides!

One final word of thanks to people who haven't hesitated in sponsoring me again: cliche or not, it makes all this worth it and is a terrific motivation.
What I didn't expect was backing from overseas folks: how about the U.S.A. and Ukraine? Just brilliant behaviour. Thank you Natalia, Marge and two alumni from last year's trip, namely Lee and Chris C.. Cheers!

                            Wiggo, you have taste. And enormous sideys.

Although I hate banging on about it, here are the stats again:

- We climb 120,000 feet over the 11 days. That is more than the 2012 Tour de France will climb in 21 days!

-  In 11 days we cycle over 330 uphill miles at an average 8% gradient: that's the same distance as London to Glasgow!

- To put some perspective on all this, Mount Everest stands at 29000 feet. On day 3 we climb 15000 feet. Eh, hang on...

For every £500 raised I will donate £100. Thank you!