Le Tour 2007 (European Excursion)

Spain, Col d'Aubisque, Chateauponsac & Home

2007-06-21T07:43:00.000-07:00

Second last day and I still couldn't turn to head home. I had worked out that I would have time for a quick loop through Spain first, so headed south.

The valley from St-Lary Soulon climbed until eventually there was no-where for the road to go in the circle of mountains apart from through a tunnel. I popped out the other side and was in Spain.

The highest peaks and ridges do really form the border and so also often it means different weather as a rain shadow type effect occurs. This means that the landscape is quite different on the Spanish side, drier and more wild west like, I though it was nice until I went back over to the French side where I concluded the scenery was much nicer in the alpine style.

On the French side (after a much longer drive than I was expecting !) I decided to drive over the Col d'Aubisque before

heading to Lourdes. This climb is the final summit finish, indeed the final mountain in the Tour and I wanted to scope it out.

It was very beautiful indeed, possibly the most beautiful of the major tour passes, but also steep ! There were sections of 13% and often 10% which means we have got a serious job on our hands. In fact more analysis of stage 16 involving the map revealed a bit of a monster......the last serious stage is also potentially a tour wrecker. 130 miles and several major climbs. I'm fitting a 27 sprocket.

On the way down the menagerie continued with some donkeys roaming about. Is there a more mournful looking beast on the planet than the donkey ?

The drive back home began that afternoon and I wanted to make some inroads into the fairly huge distance that I would need to cover before I arrived back in Nottingham. So, after a few hours driving I decided to stop at Chateauponsac, north of Limoges.

This was the quintessentuial French campsite between a perched village and a gorgeous river where you could swim etc. The patronesse was very friendly (quite liked her actually and she appreciated my French). She said that I was the first 'anglais' this year who could speak French, a bit of a damning indictment of our education system (not that I can speak Italian or Spanish, but I didn't learn that at school). I apologised and promised to come back. Not sure how or when...but you never know.

Next day was another 5 hours of driving to get to sunny Bolougne sur Mer, a speedy (and still sunny) hop across the channel during which I chatted with a German chocolate mould maker (he explained someone has to do it) and then another 4 hours of driving home.

The end...but also the beginning. A wrap up report will be on the main letour2007 website.

Port du Bales and the Col du Peyresourde

2007-06-18T09:45:00.000-07:00

Sunny ! And today I had a more significant ride planned, a loop involving two of the climbs we'll be heading over in the Tour route. They also feature in the Etape du Tour this year.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/L%27Etape_du_Tour

Although the lady in the campsite* reception was very cheery and would not stop talking, she didn't seem to know too much about the Tour de France etc. I'd half expected the locals to be giddy with excitment at the tour and the etape coming by, but I guess when your garden backs onto the Tourmalet (been used over 70 times in the tour), nochalance is to expected.

*awesome facilities by the way, almost took a photo before I realised it would look suspect. In England Municipal is usually associated with 'dump', but here it normally means very good camping.

The massive bonus was that as I arrived at the bottom of the valley on this loop I had made up from a map I had bought, I latched straight onto the back of a group of French Club cyclists doing exactly the same as me. After a good chat and lots of astonishment at the objective of letour, they said it would be fine if I joined their group.

Cut to the chase...the Port du Bales is hard, over 8% for lots and it rises over 1200 metres from the hot valley to alpine meadows. The roads are being repaired and there are lots of trees for shade, but make no mistake this is where the action will be in a few weeks time.

I think I ran out of food because my legs felt very weary as I headed to the Col de Peyresourde....wearier than they have been for some time.

This climb is more like a 'normal' climb, long and hot but with a lesser gradient. There was a creperie on the top and as I tucked into my sixth 'crepe au sucre', I felt the energy returning to my body.

There will be lots of beaten riders by this stage on the etape I am sure, let's hope also not on letour2007.

The total ride was 85 miles and I now feel a little bit more trepidation at what we have in store. This was a hard day, and it's getting hotter.

But training is now essentially over...that's it after a month on the road.

Col d'Aspin and the Col du Tourmalet

2007-06-18T09:06:00.001-07:00

Never really seen the Pyrenees and I am impressed. Like the alps used to look I suspect, before they put in motorways and large towns.

I set up base in St - Lary Soulon in the Haute Pyrenees department, good acces to a load of climbs.

The weather was iffy, loads of rain bourne clouds bundling over from Spain, so I decided to head the other way and take on the Col de Tourmalet, but the only way to get there was over the Col d'Aspin....and back.

Anyway...as I cycled the major difference between here and the Alps is the number of animals wandering around. It's like a giant farmyard half the time with mountain versions (more hair and horns) of familiar english farmyard animals, just doing their thing.

In some places, normally high up (which is where I usually head on the bike) there are 'zones pasturelle' which basically means expect to find the road blocked by goats and cows etc.

I got to the top of the Col d'Aspin to find a bunch of goats lounging around and shoed away some cows to continue on the route to St Marie de Campan. This little village is famous for a particular incident involving bike racer Eugene Christophe. I won't repeat the full story here, you can read about it

here : http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eugene_Christophe but needless to say it passed into Tour de France and sporting legend as the ultimate in perservering but ultimately failing (due to a jobsworth marshall).

The road continued up into rain clouds and as always in the mountains I had my eyes regularly glancing at my altimiter to check what progress I was making.

After I passed two other riders who shouted 'courage !' as I passed them I entered the rather ugly ski station of La Mongie where a certain Texan won a memorable stage a couple of years ago. Typically there was a cow in the shot of the sign.

The top past the last few hairpins to 2100 metres was pretty nippy and I donned all my layers and retreated into a mountain restaurant where I got stuck into some tasty Basque flan and a beer.

The descent back down was uneventful apart from a herd of cows had taken up residence in an avalanche tunnel and refused to move.

The Col d'Aspin for the second time was also a little easier from the West...and I was soon back in the town of St Lary Soulon.

Nice ride, not so far but quite a lot of climbing and I had bagged two more famous cols.

Le Viaduc de Millau

2007-06-18T08:48:00.000-07:00

The Millau bridge over the river Tarn in the very south of the Massiv Central. It's huge and looks like a CGI apirition that would look a bit fake in a film, but it is actually there. I drove to have a look at it on the way to the Pyrenees.

The stats are incredible, one of pier's summit is 343 metres high—slightly taller than the Eiffel Tower and only 38m shorter than the Empire State Building.

Norman Foster designed it and almost seems to have the optimum amount of structure, not too minimalist, but also not too over the top Victorian engineering style. I wonder what IKB would have thought of this if you could have led him blindfolded to the viewpoint.

France is brilliant for 'Aires' - picnic spots on the edges of autoroutes that are normally picturesque and well equipped. Hereis no different and there is a new aire here that has an information centre and a very good viewpoint of the bridge.

I also drove under the bridge on the way to Albi and the last picture here is of the town of Millau that no longer has all the autoroute traffic running through it. If you are ever in the area it is a must see.

Le Dauphine Libere (Ventoux)

2007-06-16T00:41:00.001-07:00

After getting off the ferry at 7am and dropping Amy at Marseille airport (not actually in Marseille if you ever go) I raced across to Mont Ventoux again to watch the Dauphine Libere race, a major pre-tour test for yellow jersey contenders.

After stocking with picnic supplies, I drove up to Chalet Reynard and found Craig and friends lounging on the grass wondering whether to have another glass of Rose, or whether to go for the foi gras next. This is the life.

There is always loads of time before the riders come by to drink beer and engage in the other traditional activity - painting the road with slogans supporting your favourite riders. At any other time you would probably get arrested for graffiti, but in major cycle races it is perfectly acceptable.

Craig unveiled his Tom Simpson stencil which he made himself (requiring siginificant effort!) and we stuck a couple on the road so that the British cycling great who died in the Tour de France in 1967 will be remembered.

A few local cyclists came by and appreciated the effort, Tom is much admired in this area for his exploits and thousands flock to his memorial further up the mountain every day.

Our next painting effort was not so artistic and I felt a little like a naughty schoolboy as we placed St George's flags and an 'Allez Bradley !' sign on the road. You have to watch for cars and cyclists as they go past, put our efforts worked and we hoped that Bradley Wiggins and David Millar would notice as they went past.

A couple of hours and a few beers later, the race came by with French rider Christophe Moreau leading the field up the hors categorie climb. Various famous riders followed including Hincapie, Boonen, Zabriskie and Vinokourov of whom I managed to get a half decent photograph.

Valverde (normally considered a Yellow Jersey contender) looked in a world of pain and was being pushed up by a domestique. Tim a photographer staying with Craig and photographing further up the mountain said that they were keen not to be captured in such difficulty...not sure what was wrong.

The evening was spent eating Pizza from the local 'ad-hoc' pizza place and drinking some ridiculously strong Belgian beers that Craig had acquired....Leffe was beaten in the strength stakes by Kwak, or Quack or something like that. Nice though.

I had pitched the tent in Craig and Vicky's back garden and that night there was an almightly thunderstorm which threatened to either deafen me or electrocute me with lightening. The rain didn't stop all morning and I dropped Tim off in Nyons for the next stage start to see lots of wet and bedraggled Gendarmes closing the roads. What a change from the motorcycling gendarmes the day before on Ventoux in their short sleeves shirts and shades (note that policemen in the UK aren't allowed to not wear leathers for health and safety reasons. The French motorcyclist police do look much cooler as a result.)

By the afternoon the sun had come out and it was lovely, Provence is looking really green at the moment. I decided to ride up the Ventoux (for the seventh time now....) and see how fast I could do it. 1 hr 22 minutes was my time from Malaucene, which I think is pretty respectable. The weather was again kind though, sunny but not too hot as I went at 3.30pm. The morning rain had cleared the air and the views at the top were breathtaking.

But time to leave the lovely village of Faucon, picture on the left is from the top of the tower at Craig and Vicky's.

Corsica

2007-06-12T02:31:00.000-07:00

Another high speed motorway journey, through the ,many tunnels past Nice and on to Savona in Italy again for the ferry to Bastia on Corsica.

The ferry passengers thronged the decks as land appeared, me especially as I wanted to see if the mountains were as big as they say. They were, indeed the whole island was a little bigger than I was expecting and I wondered how long it would take to cross to the other side.....one woman advised 3-4 hours !

Not much time before dusk and we raced across the island through some very rocky gorges and possibly the windiest (that's windy as in lots of bends, is that spelt windyest ?) roads in the world to the hills above Porto, there we set up camp.

Next day (always sun here it seems) a 60 mile loop through the Spelunca gorge to Porto, then along the spectacular coast and back up through the mountains. The final climb was 1100 metres and quite tough.

The scenery is pretty awesome, rocky coves, crystal clear seas and towering mountains almost 3000 metres high. You can go skiing in the winter. The other thing is there are pigs and cows wandering everywhere.....sometimes you have come round a bend

to be confronted with half a farmyard, they seem to wander
where they please. Some of the pigs seem more wild boar than domestic pig too, but clearly they make good eating as the hams are very tasty here.

Next day we drove to south of Ajaccio and stopped at a campsite on the beach. No longer did we have the cooler mountain air and perishable food started to suffer in the 30 degrees (oh dear, starting to sound like Alan Partridge !).

I spent the day on the beach getting sunburnt and swimming in the very salty and buyoant water (forgot how little you need to swim here), Amy went riding along the coast. I saw some fish, but I would be lying if I said a school of dolphins turned up and somehow we connected through thought and swam together etc etc. There were definitely no sharks.

One more day here and then back to France and Mont Ventoux for the Dauphine Libere stage that has a summit finish on the Geant of Provence.

Then, that enormo bridge at Millau needs a visit I think :

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Viaduc_de_Millau

Some brief Corsican footage here : http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WRcaPlucnVo

Lake Como; Mont Ventoux (X 3) & St Tropez

2007-06-09T00:46:00.000-07:00

Lake Como is beautiful......no mistake. I had not been before and I have to say that despite being a bit twee compared to the more rugged stuff up the Sondrio valley, it was nice. Driving along the lake shore with no traffic, windows down, music on was pretty cool.

Anyway, wasn't there long, a big storm in the evening which tested the tent and the next day I picked Amy up from Bergamo. But not before visiting the cycling chapel and museum on the Ghisallo, some pretty famous bikes in there, Merckx, Coppi etc. Very interesting.

The drive to Craig's place near Mont Ventoux, was long, and rainy. The autostrada is a fast road though (once past Milan) and there are rumours of an all time top speed being reached.....but cannot be confirmed for legal reasons. The Cabanieri might come knocking on my tent door.

Over the Col de Montgenevre, a zip past Gap, past Veynes and by about 10.30 we were in the sleepy Provencal town of Faucon.

After catching up at breakfast the next morning, we decided to attempt the 'Madman' of Ventoux challenge...basically involves riding up all three routes in a day, from Malaucene, Bedoin and Sault.

It was actually easier than I thought it would be, the weather was kind and my legs felt good. I also think the Sault route is cheating a bit, you start from much higher and the gradient is very gentle for most of it. So now we are officially Ventoux Madmen, I think that's a membership of a fairly exclusive club (we didn' get stamped time cards etc, so maybe not completely official http://les.cingles.du.mont-ventoux.club.fr/menu.htm).

But, in the process I guess a little bit of the mystique has gone away, Ventoux is supposed to be sinister; brutal.......literally a killer. Doing it three times is mocking it a little, but I know it is a completely different propisition in heat. It got the last laugh anyway by delivering a massive cloudburst on us as we descended for the final time, the sky went black and it was the the heaviest rain I have ever seen. Trying to stop on a hairpin bend from 50mph in the wet was interesting.

We couldn't hang about long we had a ferry booked for Corsica and the French Riviera beckoned. We said our goodbyes to Craig and Vicky who were kind as ever (http://www.veloventoux.com/) and set off in the 28 degree heat which was a bit of a change from snow.

Reaching Le Lavandou on the Med coast always brings back vivid childhood memories. When we lived in Belgium we were lucky enough to drive down with caravan and boat and we camped by a beautiful beach at Cavaliere. I am pleased to report everythig is still there and the campsite itself is as rustic as it ever was.....no ugly apartment blocks have replaced it yet. And if anything the sea is even more turquoise.....it really is beautifully inviting. Eskimo glace anyone ?

We stopped off in St Tropez, I had never been there before either (as an adult). The harbour looked very nice with the mega yachts 'parked' on the marina. I also think I had the nicest mango and cerise ice cream on the planet, two boules was almost too much, I battled to eat it before it all melted away.

Next stop Corisca (assuming we make it to Savona in Italy where the ferry leaves from). It's been on my to-do list for a while, not sure I'll get time for the legendary GR20, but some cycling should take place for a change.

Actually the Stelvio, Gavia etc

2007-06-05T05:08:00.000-07:00

There's a sight that was a bit better than yesterday, all the passes open.

The morning began with a 'car stuck on 45 degree slope' incident. Over Breakfast I had noticed that some branch felling had been going on, but thought nothing of it. Until I drove onto the 45 degree ramp that separated pitches in the tiered campsite and realised that I couldn't go any further forward due to the branches and a van parked in the way.

An Italian woman was watching my predicament with much interest as I weighed up options. I could either wait, or try and back up the slope. I chose the latter option. As the campsite slowly filled with smoke from exhausts and clutches I realised that no combination of clutch and revs was going to make this work. The lady meanwhile was kindly offering me lots of advice in Italian that I had no choice but to dismiss out of hand.....language issues, it was probably very sensible.

As the smoke lay heavily across the hillside I decided enough was enough and sought the driver of the blocking van. He was just around the corner, clearly oblivious to the sounds of car engines revving etc. Let's hope the clutch holds out until England.

Anyway, I had the Stelvio planned and I headed off up the road contemplating the enormous height gain I was about to ride, pic of the crazy east side here. At 1900 metres everyone came to a halt whilst the lots of the cliff-face above a gap in tunnels came crashing down.....I would not have like to have been hit by those rocks. Video here http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qXni0bQBR3E

After a 20 minute halt, the rocks were cleared and I carried on, through a small rain shower to the alpine meadows above a crazy section of hairpins.

The hairpins (switchbacks) are pretty hard to photograph, but I
have tried my best here. Hopefully it gives a good impression of the crazy way the Austro-Hungarians originally built the road up here, not sure they would do this sort of road-building nowadays.

I carried on and was passed by someone in full CSC kit on a Cervelo bike. Thinking it may have been a team member, I stopped to say hello and discovered that it was Dean from Australia, friends with team members but actually a bike shope owner over here for a bit of climbing.

The top of the pass at 2760 metres above sea level was the highest I have been with my bike, and the sun came out from the clouds in celebration. There were a few gift shops open where I bought some postcards and also the world's highest bratt-wurst stall with perhaps the jolliest patron.

He took my photo, he laughed alot and he served me a hotdog and laughed some more at his own jokes. They were pretty funny clearly. I had to take his picture.

The descent was cold and long and I was glad of the three layers I had on. I met up with Dean for some Italian dinner in Bormio and we agreed the next day we would climb the Gavia, it had been shut yesterday due to snow and would have been a shame to miss out on a climb that hosted a legendary stage of the Giro in 1988, where snow conditions were unbelievably extreme. The riders rode over the top in sub zero without gloves, arm warmers, hats etc....madness.

The Gavia is almost as high as the Stelvio and the bottom section dragged on for a while, but we were soon in alpine meadows and the temperature was dropping.
The scenery was still pretty snowy on the pass, but nothing compared to the postcards and pictures in the hut at the top. We grabbed a coffee and checked out the scarcely believable images of Andy Hampsten and co riding through the snow.

A summit photo and we descended, I didn't fancy the Mortirolo, now matter how easy I claimed it had been. Enough was enough.

I said goodbye to Dean, next stop Lake Como.

Bormio, The Stelvio, Mortirolo and Gavia Passes (almost)

2007-06-04T01:38:00.001-07:00

The road to Italy from Austria involved stopping off in Lienz, which was a very nice town. And it had stuff open which was a bit of a novelty.

Note to Tourist information staff in Cortina d'Ampezzo.....before categorically stating that access to an internet terminal is absolutely not possible in town, check that the hotel immediately opposite doesn't have a computer available for immediate use.

I hit the autostrada, passed through some sleepy alpine towns before finally seeing the signs for the Stelvio Pass, my route into Bormio.

I had heard much about the Stelvio pass, supposedly it has 48 hairpins as it gains almost 1800 metres in height. Well, I was not prepared for what I found. The hairpins were very tight, the road was narrow and it seemed to go on for ever. The feeling that I was climbing into the clouds became an actuality as visibility came down to almost zero and the rain turned to snow. It has been 16c in the valley, it was now -1c at 2750m and my shorts and sandals were starting to feel a little inappropriate.

The road was barely open at the top...it was like the scene from 'The Thing' when Kurt Russell goes outside at the Antarctic base to investigate noises from the outbuildings....it was hostile. I didn't venture from the car for fear of expiring.

I finally arrived at a campsite in the warm and dry valley, it didn't seem possible that a few k's up the road the weather could be so different.

Next morning I set off for a classic loop, down the valley from Bormio, across the feared Mortirolo Pass, up to the huge Gavia Pass and then back down to Bormio.

The base of the climb was a little tricky to find (700m), but soon I was winding my way up hairpins before topping out at 1850 metres. I didn't think it was as hard as everyone (including Lance Armstrong) had said, it was steep and quite long but no too much difference from l'Alpe d'Huez in my estimation. Or maybe my legs are getting stronger.

Anyway, I dropped down the other side and headed for Punto di Legno (apparently the home of Benetton ?!) and grabbed a croissant in a roadside diner. To assist getting there I held on to the side of a tractor and trailer for a bit as they were doing a decent speed. The scene reminded me of those 'Man of the year' award photos...he was driving in a nice clean cab whilst the wife wearing dirty rags was kneeling in filth in the trailer. Oh Well, it was a welcome ride.

The waitress at the diner looked a little alarmed when I said I was about to cycle over the Gavia, but I assured her I would be fine, explaining that I had gloves etc...really it's no problem.

Until I got the the base of the climb to be confronted by the horror that the pass was closed ! Aaaagh ! A quick check in a restaurant to see if bikes were ok, and I discovered that the Stelvio was shut too. I was trapped in the wrong valley and the only way to get back was to go over the Mortirilo again...suddenly I was going to look foolish.....I took everything back about it being easy...please spare me ! The other option the lady in the restaurant recommended seemed to involve some town I had never heard of, most probably in the lowlands somewhere.....I might as well have gone back via Rome.

So I took the Mortirilo again. Actually the ride the other way wasn't too bad either, the only downer being the swarm of flies that swirled around me all the way up....I am sure it was the same flies as in Slonvenia. Weird why they do that, I thought it was just me until I rode by a chap who had twice as many above him.

It was a drag up the valley to the campsite, but I followed the wheel of a local chap with sinewy calves...he led me home.

As feared, the campsite was echoing to the now very familiar tones of an Austro-pop version of 'Mary had a little lamb'...seriously. Some Austrian cyclists nearby were playing this tape on constant loop. If anyone knows who is responsible for this noise...please let me know as I need to firebomb the recording studio.

Short clips from the last couple of days can be seen here : http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fygLa9TdK44

The Roof of Austria - The GrossGlockner

2007-06-02T03:50:00.001-07:00

Broadsword to Danny Boy, Broadsword to Danny Boy......."The Schloss Adler.....The Eagle's Nest....and it´s well named as only an eagle could get to it"......etc etc etc....these were the words drifting in and out of my mind as I toiled to the 2571m summit of the GrossGlockner Pass in the Austrian Tyrol.

Of course Burton/Eastwood fans will recognise the script of 'Where Eagles Dare' and the area reminded me of the the film...surely there would be an impenetrable castle perched high on rocks as I turned the next corner ?

I had driven to to Venice airport to drop Amy off and then headed back into the mountains, only this time I didn´t stop and headed right over the border into Austria, the town of Lienz and then on to Hellingblut below the GrossGlockner itself.

There are many advantages to riding a bike, but an additional one is that you save €28 by not having to pay the toll to enter the national park. I smugly rode through whilst motorists glared at my cheap abandon...I could hear Kurt saying to Heidi in a parked car ....."why doesn't he have to pay ?".

This mountain was clearly big, so I settled into a rythym and watched the metres go by as I headed up to the Franz Jospeh hut next to the glacier. I can't remember the name of the glacier, it starts with a P and there are some CH's involved too. Petasch or something.

Alpine rides aren't best measured in distance, it's more relevant to measure in height climbed to gauge difficulty, and it was at about 2300 metres that I tuned into the visitors centre next to the glacier.

The glacier, although impressive, is but a pale imitation of it's former glory around 100 years ago. The ice has shrunk dramatically and you now need to get a long cable car ride down to the surface of the ice (which didn't seem worthwhile) The pics on the left show it the day I was there and also in it's heyday.....it really has largely disappeared.

It's still Austria's and the Eastern Alps largest glacier, but it's no Baltoro or Moreno.

I had passed 'Achtung Marmot !' signs along the way, and now I knew why. The little furry critters were gambolling on rocks next to the glacier and a couple got close enough to get some decent photos.

I wrote and posted a few postcards, toured the rather inspirational info centre (which involved walking through a mock-up cave in cycling shoes - hard) just as the the clouds rolled in and I got a bit cold and wet backtracking to the turn in the road
that would take me to the pass proper.

As I toiled up into the snowline it got tough and I had my death-face on (borrowed from Lance...basically a glazed eyed, sunken cheeks look as you deal with the pain) and passed a Dutch couple by the side of the road.

As passed she looked up with a big beaming smile, gave the thumbs up and said "cool !". You can count on the Dutch to appreciate cycling and my facade of being a serious cyclist immediately evaporated. I couldn't help responding with a huge smile and felt in better spirits as I continued up through dark and damp tunnels.

The last 150 vertical metres to the EidelwiessHutte basically involved a spiral of cobbled hairpins where the gradient rose significantly. This was like cycling the Patterberg at 2500 metres !
Fortunately the hut at the top was welcoming and I immediately ordered a wienershnitzel and beer as reward for my efforts. Another cyclist who had ridden up with full panniers had the same thoughts....and we tucked into some tasty fuel.

The descent was marked by tour bus fun. One that came by had an obviously enthusiastic tour rep on board because the entire double-decker gave me a wave as they sped by in the slush. This prompted me to initiate the waving next time, and a succession of tour buses will have waved to a bedraggled looking cyclist high up on the GrossGlockner. Hope they had fun.

It was a great ride, weather was a little ropey...but next stop Italy again and Bormio.

Monte Zoncolan

2007-05-31T03:21:00.000-07:00

The sign above the start of the steep stuff on Monte Zoncolan said "the gates of hell" in Italian, and that's what we were riding through...attempting what many people are already saying is the steepest road climb ever used in a professional cycling race. '2007, the legend begins' said another.

Were arrived in the area from Cortina the day before and ridden 25 miles to the base to try and ride the climb and watch the Giro ride up as a summit finish a few hours later.

On the way there I chatted with Ric Hjertberg, a manager at FSA (Full Speed Ahead, bike bits) and very friendly chap over to watch and ride the Giro course with hospitality. He had a helicopter option to the top.....unlike us.

Once we had gained our compsure we hit the lower slopes and were immediately out of gears. Oh dear.

Then after 2 k's and a small village, the serious climbing began..announced by that banner across the road.

To get an idea of what we would be pedalling up, a profile of this fearsome climb can be found here :http://www.climbbybike.com/climb.asp?Col=Monte-Zoncolan&qryMountainID=36 but the key stats are over 10 km's at 12% average with a kilometer of nearly 20% near the bottom. Owch !

The road through the forest ramped up and straight away our heart rates jumped to threshold. And then they kept rising......the crowds at the side of the road were cheering us on (especially Amy) but we knew that were were losing the battle. Just as Amy slowed to a point where the wheels were barely turning I heard a cry of 'Mark...MARK !' and turned round to watch her topple sideways onto the road, still clipped in.

The crowd rushed in to help...which being in Italy also involved the offer of a shot of Grappa. I took a swig and a breather and carried on up whilst Amy waited for the stars to disappear from her vision before being given a push start on the >20% ramp.

The other feature of the climb is that a bit like the Koppenberg, much of the bottom section is in a trench, so it feels like the crowd are looking into a gladiator's pit as you ride up.

The helpful pushes from the crowd continued for Amy (why do I not get pushed ?...ok, I think I know why) and she was given the traditional Italian two cheeked kiss by a marshal at the point where we cyclists were told to stop. There was still 5 km's to go, but I think the marshalls were wary of amateur cyclists causing serious medical issues and blocking the roads with ambulances before the pro race got there and they wanted to minimise the risk.

The leaders (Maglia Rosa, Di Luca on left) looked strong on very low gears (Ric, who was staying with Discovery Channel told me Sean Yates had specified 34 x 28 for their riders, we had 34 x 25) but the domestiques at the back were a different story. They were really struggling, some holding onto motorbikes or team cars and nearly all when offered a push replied with a faint 'Grazia' as spectators pushed them up the muderously steep slopes. Don't be fooled by glamorous TV pictures, they do not all make it look easy...the back markers looked like they were totally spaced out as they toiled up.

Mark pushing the pros on the left. They are suffering like dogs.

60,000 people were estimated to be on the slopes that day....I am sure it will become a classic, but don't expect to ride up it like you would l'Alpe d'Huez or the Ventoux....it is in a different league. On long climbs it´s my legs that get weary, on this I couldn´t really control my heart rate. Doing it on thrashed legs (ie summit finish after 100 mountain miles) would be impossible for me, I would make about 10 metres of the steep stuff. And I´d ignore that 12% average stat, take out the bottom two k´s of and it is much steeper.

If you live in the UK I reckon it is a bit like Winnats Pass x 8.

Back to Italy, Gran Fondo Dolimiti Stars, The Giro and Snow !

2007-05-29T02:37:00.000-07:00

Have to be quick....everything seems to be permamently closed, or about to close here....

We drove from Slovenia into the heart of the Dolomites, Cortina d'Ampezzo. Then across a major pass (Falzarego - 2100m) to Arabba to register for the Gran Fondo Giro d'Italia Dolomiti Stars.

The campsite at Corvara was in a beautiful location....on the route of the famed ski tour the 'Sella Ronda' and we only need to turn left at the campsite entrance to cycle it. But first the Dolimiti Stars.

We got locked into the campsite by the barrier which didn't open until eight officially, but a phone call to the owner at home sorted that out...not sure we were that popular though.

So a little rushed we dropped over the Campalongo pass to join the 1000 or so starters for the race/ride.

The first part involved a descent for alost 20 miles and I was getting worried as my GPS altimeter just kept dropping and dropping height.

Finally at about 600 metres we began the first of four climbs that made up the ride, 83 miles and 3500 metres of climbing. The 3rd was the Passo Giau which was tough...long and steep. Chatted to an Italian couple on the way up before conversation died and it got serious.

Cold at the top, a marshall stuffed all sorts of food into my jersey pockets so I had a lucky dip as I ate on the descent. beautiful scenery, great organistation, lots of spectators and I felt good on the climbs. Didn't trouble the front runners though, the winner took 4 hrs 26, I took 5hrs 45.

Next it was time to watch the second biggest cycle race there is, the Giro d'Italia (Tour of Italy) itself. The pros went over one of the passes we rode and then had the daunting summit finish at Lavaredo to contend with. I rode up and waited in the rain and cold for the riders to finally appear.

I always feel like calling those poor boys mothers when I see them suffering like that.....it almost brings tears to my eyes to see the huge gaps and the lonely riders.......many were being pushed up. Pro cycling is a brutal sport.

Next day we rode the Sella Ronda curcuit in rain and about three degrees temperature. The ride was noted by lots of cheery Americans and Ozzies putting a brave face on it....and Amy taking a wrong turn and heading off to Austria by mistake. Argument still continues as to whose fault it was.....but essentually you can't go wrong when cycling right round a big mountain - keep turning left. Ahem...Amy turned right. Still, it gave me two hours in a mountain restaurant though where I troughed on Strudel. The T-Mobile squad were out training on their rest day...in the freezing rain. Cyclists are mad, especially ones like us who don't get paid. It was very cold on the descents and regular cafe stops were required.

Woke up ths morning wondering why my feet were colder than usual and the tent roof was sagging. Bizarre ???

Amy unzipped the tent door and we discovered that camping at 1500 metres in the Dolomites means that it can snow.... a lot !
This was quite exciting as far as was concerned, gets you out of bed, but we were due to leave and had to check that the passes were open. They were and we packed up a damp tent and headed over the two major passes to Cortina where it warmer, but drizzly. Lots of Pro-team lorries and vans seemed to be driving lost around the mountains, you can't move for Astana or Discovery this and CSC that. I am now in some sort of photocopying shop running out of time.

It's very snowy above 1500 metres and the snow ploughs have been out, but it's pretty wet rain and the roads will be clear for the Giro to come through.

There is more snow now than there was in Austria in January...I thought this was a sunny cycling trip !

Some recent video of the Giro and this morning's snow here : http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9zS4YAyRKPM

Slovenian ride, Bovec - Kranska Gora - Tarvisio - Bovec

2007-05-24T08:42:00.000-07:00

Wow, what a ride, but more on that in bit. The evening before we watched the Champions league final in a little bar. Pepe had joined us earlier and after some tasty and very cheap food we sank a few beers as the Liverpool were outclassed by AC Milan.

I couldn't understand the Slovenian commentary, but the result was fairly obvious and Pepe being a Milan fan was pretty happy.

Now, back to the ride. First off let me explain that photos don't do this place justice, it has quite simply the most stunning mountain scenery I think I have ever witnessed, made even more special by being on a bike.

I have been lucky enough to see many mountain areas over time and seen some special places, Mount Aspiring National Park, The Rupal Valley below Nanga Parbat in the Himalaya (unbelieveable 5km vertical cliff-face), K2, The Rockies, Zermatt in the Alps as well as Torres del Paine and Fitzroy in South America.

But I think this area may top the lot.

We started out on a loop that took us over two passes, into and out of Italy and then back to Bovec.

First up was some very gentle climbing from 450 metres or so to about 750m. All the while the turquoise waters of the Soca river were visible and I posed by a bridge for a photo. Then the climb to the pass that would take us over to the ski resort of Kranska Gora began.

Having crested the col at 1610 metres, I would suggest this would be an Hors Categorie or at least Cat 1. It had over 20 hairpins, a consistent gradient and almost 1000 metres height gain - nice.

More photos at the top and we began the descent to Kranska on a road that had views that must have caused my eyes to enlarge to twice their normal size, the scenery was eye popping.

Enormous vertical cliffs towered straight up out of the forests and it was impossible not to gawp upwards as the cobbled hairpins
carried us down. The French Alps are fantastic, but somehow this was better, if this is a taste of the what the Dolomites may involve then we are in for a treat.

Photos can't really capture the enormity of those towering vertical rock faces topped with snow...it was truly amazing. You need an Imax camera and cinema to convey what if feels like to freewheel down those roads as the trees rush by whilst the background up to the sky is filled with enormous rock faces.

We passed a little Russian Church that was built by surviving prisoners in in WW1, the text on the left explains more but basically this amazingly beautiful and peaceful place was the scene of bitter and pointless alpine fighting during both World Wars.....over a million died between 1914 and 1918 alone.

If bullets didn't get you avalanches and falls did, and this was at a time when they would get 6 metres of snow in the valley floor as opposed to the more meagre amounts nowadays.

The wooden Church was in fantastic condition considering the age, and I paused by the memorial wondering what the inscription said in Russian.

After re-mounting, we hurtled into Kranska and found a little bakery were we bought a tasty lunch for about 1 pound each....it's extremely cheap in Slovenia, ie beers are around 80p.

The ski resort looked lovely, I am not sure it is high enough or has enough lifts to tempt me to snowboard, but as a mountain town it is one of the most picturesque I can think of.

We went through the Italian border crossing without showing passports (not sure brigands and cut-throats often ride expensive racing bikes) and pedalled into Tarviso. A left took us on a road that would lead to the Predil Pass, lower than the other one at around 1100 metres.

But before that we stopped at a most beautiful lake - Predil lake - and it was so inviting I whipped off my jersey and plunged in.
And then scrambled out. Despite the air temperature being
around 30 degrees C, the water was still chilly and after a refreshing few strokes decided to get back on the bike. But The Bear (Mike D) would be proud !

Over the pass, another border crossing with disinterested guards (can never quite rule out being sprayed with machine-gun fire) and we were back into Slovenia for a long descent through more stunning mountains and forests until we finally dropped into our campsite in Bovec.

Around 60 miles and definitely amongst the best rides I have ever ridden. I am not sure this is in my book of 'rides you must do before you die', but it should be. I don't think you can get any better, and damp and busy roads in the UK winter now seem such a long long way away. It makes it all worthwhile.

Some video I took of this amazing area can be viewed here : http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DCsVx5A6p9o

Slovenia

2007-05-23T01:25:00.000-07:00

After 10 mins internet research, we decided to drive to Slovenia as it sounded a little more exotic than Tuscany (that can wait). The autostrada whisked us to Udinese and then we took the road from the town of Cividale (last town in Italy) across the Solvenian frontier.

The border guards examined our papers, luckily they were in order but we were advised that we had to have our car lights on at all times. We drove up the very lowly populated valleys (joking about banditos emerging from the undergrowth) and the scenery got increasingly beautiful, it was like a fantasy land we had entered - surely we needed to pay to get in here ?

Eventually after lots of very windy roads that revealed bigger and bigger mountain vistas we arrived at the town of Bovec, our base for the next few days. Bovec lies on the Soce (Socka) river - it's spelt in many variations - and the Kampsite (with a K - nice) office had all sorts of info on enticing options, kayaking, rafting, canyoning etc etc. Excellent, my kind of town. We were also told that they are shortly filming some of the second of the 'Narnia' films here, you can see why.

Next morning (after more gawping at the truly sensational view across the valley from the Kampsite) we talked to a very nice young lady at the tourist office who said we should do everything if we could, prices were cheap and there were hardly any tourists aroud this time of year. So we booked Kayaking for the afternoon and canyoning for the next day.

Before the river fun began, , we checked out nearby the Boca falls, the second tallest in Slovenia at 106 metres high. Being one for always choosing the more strenous option, we decided (ok, I decided) to walk up the mountain to the source of the falls which come straight out of the side of the mountain. It was a hot day and I drank about three litres of water as we toiled up the thickly forested slopes.

We arrived at the top to a fantastic view across the valley and we drank from the very cold waters as they emerged from the rocks. By the time I got back to the car the temperature inside was roasting and my power inverter alarm was going off as it was almost melting.

Next stop was kayaking. Our friendly wacky-haired guide greeted us and in no time we were equipped with all the paraphanalia we needed, wet-suits, paddles, overshoes etc. A chap called Pepe also joined us, he had just arrived from Mexico to be a guide for the season and this was his first trip onto the river) and pretty much the first thing he had done since arriving.

Following standard backpacker practice I made up some impressive sounding stuff about other rivers I had paddled to ensure we got some decent rapids, and was rather peterubed when Pepe began asking questions about the river in Costa Rica I had been on ! Luckily I backed up my stories with some facts (it was a Sarapiqui river) but I didn't mention it had been rafting rather than kayaking.

So once on the water and into some trickier stuff, the inevitable happened. As Amy drifted casually down-stream bypassing all the hazards, I hit an enormous rock and flipped upside down. My made up Eskimo roll skills proved themselves to be just that, made up, and once upside down and underwater I decided to eject the kayak to save myself from further humiliation (and a potential rock to the face).

This happened once more before the trip was over (following the guide through a narrow channel between rocks) and he decided that the next section of the river - the 1998 women's world cup course - was probably beyond us. Amy heartedly agreed as she had seen me swimming down the rapids next to my upturned kayak and was not eager to do something similar.

The river was perfect though, if I was a serious paddler it would have been heaven. And being one of the purest rivers in Europe you can simply lean over the side of the kayak and drink.....how awesome is that !

That evening Amy cooked up some delicious Burritos on the stove, this country is perfect, camping, mountains, rivers - and Mexican food.

Canyoning was on the agenda at 11 the next day, and after a lazy 'double coffee' breakfast we met up with Pepe et al again. Our new guide Christian followed the same process as yesterday (no signing your life away in Slovenia, or talk of payment) and we drove to the trailhead where we walked in wet-suits etc up the mountain.

The canyon was superb, almost purpose built as the difficulty level gradually went up. Swimming jumping and sliding down enormous shutes into plunge pools took up the next couple of hours, with our guide Christian cracking jokes that this was first trip he had done and that he had done all his research on the internet and that he wanted to test some new drop-offs using us !
The shutes became bigger until last up came the piece de resistance, the final super-size plunge shute.

Despite the fact I used to lead these sorts of sessions in Snowdonia, this final pool was extremely high and I couldn't even see the bottom. But Christian's advice worked, feet together, arms crossed, a few seconds of panic as the speed picks up and then whoosh, underwater in the cold before rising to the surface to see the sun glinting off the rocks.

A picture of this final shute is just above and to the left of this text, believe me it was a big drop. But we survived, although Amy's shoulder is a concern again - fingers crossed.

As I write this I am sitting in a school classroom enjoying free internet during a thunderstorm. Amy's computer next to mine just died on the last clap of thunder, but mine seems to be still going. Better sign off now before my luck runs out. The additional challenge is the keyboards aren't standard qwerty, they are qwertz, so apologies if some of this text looks a little Russian.

Cycling will start again soon (shoulder permitting), we are signed up for the Dolimiti Stars Gran Fondo in Italy on Saturday.

I love Slovenia.

Gran Fondo Nove Colli Marco Pantani

2007-05-20T11:26:00.001-07:00

Another early start...this time the number started with a 5 as the alarm went off at 5.20am. We were entered in the Gran Fondo Nove Colli Marco Pantani and the depart was at 6.15. In the chill early morning air we ate breakfast, assembled bikes and headed off to join the 11,000 othe riders massed at the start. 11,000 riders is a lot and at the base of the very first climb everybody was forced to walk as the road couldn't accommodate everyone.

As the sun rose the climbs started. I had wondered where all the hills would come from as the coastal plain looks pretty flat, but before long we were in beautiful 'typical' Italian scenery of verdant hills with clifftop villages perched on top. Some of these 'small hills' were almost 900 metres high and the ride seemed to ascend virtually every one of them......which meant that legs would probably be mashed.

The field split out after the first feed stop and after the split between the 130k and 200k route, got much thinner indeed. Amy and I made good progress up the field on the climbs and we started to wonder if we were either having a good day, or, we had started at the back of the field and were passing all the really slow riders. I think it was a bit of both, but probably more the latter.

The feed stops were the best I had seen on a sportive...all sorts of delights could tempt you including sandwiches, lovely cakes, flapjacks, oranges, biscuits and even honey sachets. I remember the cakes best. Indeed the feed stops became a little too frequent and we had to ride on past a couple of them as our calorie intake was threatening to exceed the amount we'd burn off in our legs. The sun got pretty hot and getting enough fluid in became very important...it reminded me toiling up alpine slopes in extreme heat last year. Hard.

The villages and countryside continued to produce fantastic cycling terrain and after the final climb (which was starting to take it's toll on my legs) we started the long descent back to Cesenatico. There was a chap in a white shirt at the front (who will never realise I am writing this), but basically he towed our group all the way back to town and no-one felt strong enough to take over.....a very impressive performance and I gave him a pat on the back as we caught the group in front.

We finished in about 8 hrs 30 in total I think (inluding stops and faffing), 130 or so miles and approx 3550 metres of climbing. Worryingly Amy said how good she felt all day.......my legs were starting to die by the end. The winner (disgraced pro Raimondas Rumsas) finished in 5rs 45 mins or something, which is hard to believe. Results will be posted here : http://www.novecolli.it/MainSiteEng/003.Classifica.asp

After a pretty pathetic attempt at a sprint finish, we were presented with medals by very podium girls (first and last time that will happen), Amy was also presented with a commorative flower (we are in Italy) and we then tucked into some free pasta and downed lots water to rehydrate. My face, jersey and pretty much everything was coated in salt from the ride and we pedalled back parallel to the beach to finally get off the bike. It was a tough day in the saddle but I think we did Marco proud in his home town, he was looking down at us from a giant poster at the finish.

Overall I was extremely impressed with this area for cycling. It looks like nothing special on the rather large scale map that I have, but once in those hills it is idylic. Amy says it reminded her of Girona, which hopefully we will have time to visit on the way back.....so little time, so many places to ride a bike.

Post-script - Overall I came 2680th (374th in my category) and Amy 2681st (31st amongst the women) on the 200km route in 9hrs 13 minutes.

l'Alpe d'Huez & the road to Italy.....

2007-05-19T10:25:00.001-07:00

Our European trip started at 2.45am on Thursday morning in order to catch a 7am ferry. The destination was Le Bourg d'Oisans in the French alps at the base of the legendary l'Alpe d'Huez. It rained heavily for the entirety of the 800 mile journey, but after eventually arriving, the campsite lady promised sun and 25c the next day as we pre-ordered our baguette and pain-au-chocolate for breakfast. Dinner in a fine local Pizza restaurant was shared with two Coloradians Val and Skip who had flown over for some climbing and cycling. Amy was at home chatting with them !

After some 'admin time' (Amy's rather complicated tax forms...) we hit the Alpe at a pleasant cruise and noted that the temperature was rising as the hairpins went by. There was some crazy dutch sportive that morning which finished at the top, complete with brass band and every rider wearing a matching jersey.

After some lunch at the ski resort we took the side road past Villard Reclusas to start the climb to the Col de la Croix de Fer and the Col du Glandon. This is a lovely climb which again we didn't take too hard and by the time we had descended in the dropping temperatures (picking up a baguette on the way) it was gone 7pm. We had seen lots of marmots running around the rocks at the top which was nice, there seemed to be more this year (where's my shotgun....). There was also more snow than usual due to the earlier time of the year and the mountains looked very pretty indeed.

Dinner was the cheaper 'pasta a la tente' which is delicious all the same and finished off with some biscuits. Class

Next morning involved a pack-up and breakfast before the long drive to the Italian Adriatic coast for the Gran Fondo Nove Colli Marco Pantani in Cesenatico. We drove over the Col du Lauteret, peeked at the Galibier (without going up) and dropped into Briancon for some picnic shopping and then climbed over the Italian border at Montgenevere. The local fauna almost lost a couple of marmots as two of the furry critters ran right under my wheels, the second one stopped just in time with a startled look on it's face as the noises Amy was making indicated she anticipated Marmotte soup for dinner. They were fine.

The landscape was now terra-incognita for me (quite exciting) and after passing several ski resorts including Sestriere we hit the Autostrada to Turin for an interminable downhill into haze that the plains seemed to be sitting in.

We had just crossed the alps ! I felt like Hannibal.

The route to Cesenatico was characterised by about a million peages that gradually milked us for all the euros we had and driving on basically the same very high speed motorway all the way for hundreds of miles. There are either no speed cameras in Italy or at least I didn't notice any (and now have no license), either way lots of big Audis were going faster than me.

As we approached the town the number of cyclists increased to plague like levels. The weather had peaked at 29c earlier in the day and the cycling locusts were cruising around town trying to work on their tans and look cool. I would be ruining that image the next day that's for sure (Ireland wasn't the best location for a base tan.....). Anyway, we stumbled across a campsite just as we were beginning to think we would be homeless for the night, threw the tent up and headed off to the registration. This was painless and after picking up a fancy logoed gillet we headed to the beach-front area to be confronted by an enormous cycle expo style show, with loads of stalls selling lots of fancy bike stuff. The ride/race tomorrow would have an amzing 11,000 people taking part over 200k's of what looks like great cycling terrain....looking forward to it. Let's hope it's not too hot and I don't get dropped on the first climb. 1200 miles of driving and 2 HC climbs ridden in three days is not ideal preparation.