I thought that when I pedaled 5,000 miles in 2010 that that would become my new annual goal – the base by which all future years were measured. I now realize that 5,000 miles are a lot of miles for someone who works full time.
I fell short. Way short. Just 3,700 miles this year. And I really haven’t analyzed why. Some things stand out such as I biked home from work 14 times last year. This year, just three. That’s about 450 miles or so. But where are the other 800-900 miles?
Sometimes I ride to remember. Sometimes I ride to forget. But last year I just rode. I guess this year I just didn’t have as much to remember. Or to forget.
Ironically, last year my total mileage was never a goal and in some ways, I was wrong to think of it as the goal for every year. Just ride. Enjoy the air. The sun. Even the rain. But most of all, enjoy the ride.
It is said this monument on the Col du Tourmalet, is for any cyclist who can bike to the top. I have a monument.
My Top Ten Rides (in no particular order)
Col du Tourmalet. We never made it to the summit last year because we were blocked by the Tour de France. Twice. This year, riding with Adrian Register, I made it. Added bonus: I handed Stuart O’Grady a newspaper while he rode by (so that he could insert it in his jersey for warmth).
Adrian Register
2. Civil War Century. Rode slower than last year. And cramped. But this route is special. How can one not be moved when riding through Gettysburg?
Two of us wearing the same Alp d’Huez Jersey. How embarrassing.
3. America’s Most Beautiful Ride. Thirty-eight degrees and raining at the start at Lake Tahoe. Never higher than 50°. But the best I ever felt on a bike for 100 miles. And it was beautiful.
Emerald Point, Lake Tahoe
4. Mont Ventoux. Cold and rainy. And windy – 50 mph at the top. But cross one off the bucket list.
Mont Ventoux
5. Alpe d’Huez. The nicest day I had in France and I was joined by my friend, Brian Hutchins, for the climb up this iconic mountain.
Brian Hutchins, Barry Sherry
6. Col du Galibier. I did not make it and am not ashamed to admit it. Cold and rainy at the start, it got colder and wetter the farther up I went, to the summit of the Col du Lautaret. It was simply the coldest I have ever been on a bike. I turned around and went hypothermic on the descent. After drying off and changing clothes, I drove to the top – through 3-4″ of snow. I later learned 200 cyclists had to be rescued from here two days earlier. It was July 19.
Going up Galibier
7. Pulling the Grandkids. I bought a child’s trailer for the bike and was able to take grandsons Andy and Aiden for a few loops of their neighborhood on Thanksgiving Day. And on Christmas Day at our house, the kids wanted — to go for a ride with Grandpa.
Grandkids
8. Mount Lemmon. A 26-mile climb in the heat from 2,500′ to 9,000′ through six different ecosystems. Tucson, Arizona.
The road to Mt Lemmon
9. Jeremiah Bishop’s Alpine Loop Gran Fondo. The first hill I ever walked, 18% grade and mud. Just mud. (Gravel) But finally, a charity ride for prostate cancer.
Barry Sherry, Jeremiah Bishop
10. Mount Washington Auto Road Bicycle Hillclimb. My fourth climb up this iconic mountain, this was the first time my wife, Cheri, joined me. She was impressed by my suffering.
At Six-Mile Curve
In addition to the riding, I met some very nice people along the way. At Lake Tahoe I met Rodrigo Garcia Brito — he and I would be riding partners for the entire 100 miles (or 98).
Rodrigo, Barry
Along Rte 31 on the Allegheny Plateau near Somerset, Pa., I met Rolf, from Denmark, who was exploring part of the U.S. I invited him to my niece’s graduation party to feed him. (I called first to make sure it was OK, OK?)
Rolf from Denmark, Barry
Many people go to the Tour de France and hope to see “The Devil,” a Tour fixture for years. Most never see him. I saw him twice and was photographed both times.
L-Near Lourdes; R-Col du Tourmalet
But it’s a random act of kindness I will most remember. Near Carpentras, France, I had been locked out of my prepaid B&B. All the hotels in the city were full. I had no place to go. I found a campground, Camping Les Fontaines, just as they were closing at midnight, or was it 1:00 a.m.? They were sold out. But I didn’t have a tent anyhow.
Camping les Fontaines
The owners graciously allowed me to park in their lot – which was all that I wanted. And brought me a pillow and blanket. And offered me a towel. It wasn’t the most pleasant night I had sleeping – in fact it was pretty awful – but when I slept I knew I was safe.
Camping les Fontaines
I would have gladly paid for a space but they didn’t charge me.
In 2011 I missed my mileage goal and I will have to rethink whether I want that to be a goal for 2012. Some of my best rides (Mount Washington – 8 miles) weren’t about the mileage. But at the end of the day, or at the end of the year, I should not be disappointed where the road took me.
Who knows where the road leads in 2012?
EDIT (2020) – In looking back at this post some nine years later, I was fretting about only riding 3,700 miles while saying it’s not about the miles. In retrospect, this was one of my favorite years. It really isn’t about the miles but the experiences can be anywhere.
Peter Jenkins, author of a A Walk Across America, wrote something to the effect that if two strangers told him he should see something he took notice but if three did, he had to do it. I have made that sort of my mantra in life too.
Traveling last May from Oakland to Phoenix I flew with Dr. Paul Mittman who told me I should come out and ride Mt. Lemmon. I had never heard of Mt. Lemmon. Then one of the riders on last year’s Tour de France trip, Deirdre Mullaly, told me about riding Mt. Lemmon. That was two.
Last Christmas, Adrian Register from Great Britain was visiting his grandmother in Arizona and rode Mt. Lemmon. And he also told me that I must do it.
That was it. Three recommendations from three people who don’t know one another.
Mt. Lemmon, it is.
Broadway Bikes
Although I have a nice bike crate, it is still such a pain to fly with a bike that for one day I decided to rent. I located Broadway Bikes, online, and made a reservation. I picked up the bike Friday at 5:00 p.m., found an In N Out Burger for dinner, then went back to the hotel.
Dinner of Champions
Wheels down at 8:00 a.m. I was at the Safeway at E. Tanque Verde and Catalina Hwy, it was 66°.
The first four miles were on Catalina Highway a straight-as-an-arrow road that leads to the base of the climb. Then the road kicks up.
Catalina Highway
I rode for a little while with a man and his exchange student son from Madrid. Like many cyclists, he was very nice but we didn’t hang around long enough to exchange names. In many ways, cyclists are just two ships just passing in the night and there usually isn’t any attempt to become personal. I may be the exception because I enjoy meeting people.
A Man and his Madrid exchange student
But we rode and talked and I found they were only going to Mile 5 or 6. He asked if I was going to Mile 10 and seemed surprised when I told him I was going all the way to Mount Lemmon. I didn’t have a good feel for where the road would lead me – I just knew the road signs pointed to Summerhaven, some 25 more miles ahead. And up.
At Mile 5, or 6, they pulled over and I kept going. At first. As we said goodbye he turned and offered me his water. I said no. As I rode away I thought differently, turned around, and told him that I would take him up on the offer.
He told he I didn’t have enough water to make it to the top and he was right. I finished off one bottle then refilled it. It was like having three bottles instead of two. But I would want four.
Catalina Highway
At the base of the climb you are in the desert with tall Sagura catci all around. The Tucson valley is at approximately 2,500 feet. I’ve read there are six different eco systems; it’s like driving from Mexico to Canada in a span of 30 miles. I can point out four and I’m no biologist.
At 5,000 feet, the cacti are gone and you are in a barren area with lots of rock croppings. Yet higher about 7,000 feet, you’re in a fir forest and at 8,000 feet there are Aspins.
I don’t think there were many cyclists on the road. I would guess less than 50. I do think at 8:00 a.m. I was one of the last to start the climb. And for good reason. It gets friggin hot in the desert, even in late October. But what goes up must come down and most cyclists seemed to be coming down while I was going up.
Look carefully. Someone left water in a jug by the pole. It was hard but I resisted the urge to fill up from this jug. Actually, I should have but maybe it was hot water.
Notice the retaining wall for this highway at the top of the picture
At Safeway, as I was getting ready, a couple was also getting ready to go and I thought I might jump in with them but decided not to. They were never far ahead of me and I sawe them turn around about Mile 10.
This couple thought the views were nice. They were overdressed.
The road seemed to average 5-6% which makes it the equivalent of the first seven miles of Skyline Drive coming out of Front Royal, Va. Except this would be for 30 miles. In the heat.
Looking back, and down, at the road just climbed
As I saw people going back down I was beginning to wonder if I should do this. Or if I should go all the way to Mount Lemmon. Yet I came for this purpose and there would be no turning back.
No water for you. (In fairness, I may have looked parched but neither did I ask for any.)
Halfway up I was passed by four guys with Carmichael Training Systems. This is a training camp that cyclists can go to. They were in their 30s and 40s and I thought about riding with them but wisely decided not to. Running out of water, I passed their support person. He was holding out new water bottles for the paying customers. I wanted him to offer me some water but he did not.
I was allocating my water — one sip/gulp every mile, when I came to the Palisades Campground around Mile 25 and saw the one source of water on the ride. I pulled over and filled my bottles from the faucet.
Water! at Palisades Campground. I hope it was free.
Back on the climb the four guys came whizzing down past me. I thought it strange they didn’t go to the top but in 200 meters or so I was at a summit. It was clear this was where they turned around but where was Mt. Lemmon? I kept going.
I was flying downhill over the top and wondering where the heck I was going. The only thing for sure was I was getting there fast and eventually, I would have to turn around and climb this on the way back.
Three miles later I was in Summerhaven, and after missing the turn and righting myself by talking to a local, or at least a local tourist from Tucson, I started the climb up the ski road. After almost 30 miles of climbing at 5-6%, the road kicked up to 8-9% with grades of 12%. I was hurting.
Aspens
I passed a famous pie restaurant (I know because it said “famous pie restaurant”)* and entered a section beyond a gate. I saw a sign for “next two miles” and wondered how I could finish this climb after having climbed for 30. But I must. It’s one time. It’s Mount Lemmon.
I’m not the strongest climber – just enthusiastic, and my bike is made from carbon fiber (light) with a triple front ring (low of 30 teeth) and a pretty helpful 27 or 28 tooth cassette on the rear. I rented an aluminum bike (not as light) with compact crank (low of 34 teeth — harder than 30) and a rear cassette of 23 (much harder than 27 or 28). I divided one number by another and I calculate that it was 38% harder with this gear setup than the one at home. I may be grossly wrong because it didn’t feel any harder than maybe 35%.
At top of Mount Lemmon
I really did not look ahead at the road – just kept turning over the pedals. At the end of the two miles I came to a small parking lot and the road was fenced off with a no trespassing sign. The end.
The Summit. I guess.
There was no summit sign. In fact, I don’t think this was the true summit if there is a true summit. But it’s as far as the road allowed. I met three women from Germany having a picnic in the back of a pickup truck. They were gracious enough to take my picture and offered me a tomato. I declined the tomato.
Barry meets Mt. Lemmon
I headed back down the road, and came to a hairpin curve and pulled over for another photo op. None up here offered a clear view but this was one of the best. Two women had pulled over and were picnicking by the drop off. They offered me a nectarine and strawberries. I accepted.
Just don’t hit a bear
Back on the road, I hit 45 mph, disappointed that I didn’t hit 50, but I wasn’t on my own bike and the road didn’t allow for more. At Summerhaven, I began the three-mile climb back up to Palisades. Shut up Legs!
All downhill to Tucson
Once I crested at Palisades I began the 30-mile descent to my car. And it was sweet. While many curves were marked at 20 mph for cars, I never had to brake. Not once. I even went through one at 40 mph.
Reaching the valley floor it was hot – it hot 100° – and I regretted not having stopped for more water before my descent. I was parched, again, but the car was only 5-6 miles away.
I reached the car satisfied. Mount Lemmon is a beautiful ride. Water is probably the hardest thing to prepare for. If I did it again I would probably carry a couple of water bottles in my jersey as well as on the bike. Or a Camelbak.
Dr. Mittman. Deirdre. Adrian. You were right. This was one super ride.
I saw a mountaintop pass of the Tour, I’ve been at the finish for another, and today would be a day to see a start stage. Stage 14 of the Tour de France is from Saint Gaudens to Plateau de Beille.
St. Gaudens, France
Adiran Register and I drove to St. Gaudens, parked, then used our bikes to try to find the team buses and sign-in. The streets were narrow and confusing but we eventually found a long line of buses. Much of the interior of the center city was blocked off for guests with private passes. VIPs.
Leopard-Trek Bus
We decided to hang out at the Leopard-Trek bus as Adrian Register has a “Shut Up Legs” t-shirt he tried to get autographed by Jens Voigt.
Bjarne Riis, Director
No one was coming out although a few people seemed to have good luck handing items to be sent in the R.V. and signed. By whom is the question.
Unlucky to get any autographs, once the riders departed for the stage start, we tried to get to the roll out. A number of “fans” saw Adrian in his full FDJ kit and wished him good luck. It was pretty cool that they thought he was a pro rider. No mistaking me for a pro rider though.
Tour de France Souvenirs
We missed the roll out, probably because we went in the opposite direction, but we followed the course for a few kilometers just stretching out our legs. Just as we were ready to turn back into town, I spotted it. A Tour route sign that had not been claimed.
I was not willing to take one down before they went by but this was on a signpost – right in front of two Gendarmes. I looked at Adrian and he looked an me and I knew I had my prized souvenir. Except we had nothing to remove it with. Adrian asked the Gendarmes if they had wire cutters. They didn’t. But removing a tool from my toolkit on my bike, and enough twisting and pulling, the wire holding it finally broke loose.
Adrian removing the TdF Route sign
I now have one of the prized signs. Vive le Tour! *
After the stage we drove back to St. Lary-Soulan and I said goodbye to Adrian while meeting his grandparents. Cool thing: As we pulled Adrian’s bike out of the car his grandmother grabbed the loose rear wheel and put it right on the bike.
Adrian with his grandparents
*UPDATE July 8, 2017 – Almost six years after acquiring my prized possession, I let it go. Rather than sit in a box in the basement, it deserves to be displayed.
My TdF sign in Purcellville
I took it to Bicycles and Coffee bike shop (and coffee) in Purcellville where everyone can see the sign.
Nicole was so appreciative she gave me a copy of her book, Under the French Blue Sky.
Yesterday I had a problem with a loose spoke on my rear wheel and the wheel was out of true. I blamed the wheel rubbing on the brake for my dragging up the Tourmalet and really suffering up that climb.
The local bike shop in St. Lary opened at 9:00 a.m. so Adrian Register and I decided we would see if they could true the wheel before today’s ride. They couldn’t (the wheel was cracked.) Since we didn’t get on the road until after 9:00 a.m. by the time we reached Lourdes we knew our original plan of a 70-mile loop ride would not occur.
We wanted to ride and to see a stage finish and by the time we got rolling, we knew our best course of action would be to ride out and back. We would have to keep an eye on the time to be back by the time they closed the roads at 2:00 p.m.
Team RadioShack Car in Lourdes
A real surprise to us occurred less than 10 km from Lourdes. We were on a flat part of the course when I spotted the tell tale signs of evil. Freshly painted on the asphalt was the Devil’s pitchfork (or trident). I looked up and saw him and stopped. Photo time.
Barry with the Devil (Didi Sefnt)
Many people come to the Tour and hope to see the Devil. Getting a picture is an extra bonus. I got a picture yesterday and now, another one. I wonder if he recognized me from yesterday? I told Adrian no matter what happened, I was happy. My day was complete. My Tour was complete.
The Devil (Didi Sefnt) with Adrian Register
We rode out to Argeles-Gazost where the road turned up. Steep, but this was not the climb up the Col du Soulor. We hit a plateau and went through a small town. I got laughing as I passed a house where some kids, probably ages 10-12, we’re yelling out “hello” to passing riders. They were practicing their English. So I greeted them with a cheery hello as well. And they were pleased.
Barn near Argeles-Gazost
We were watching the time and it was shortly after 1:00 when we turned up the climb to the Soulor which would lead to the Aubisque. If we continued we would be stuck in place so we decided to turn around and get back to Lourdes.
At the start of the climb up the Soulor
At Lourdes we were able to ride inside the barriers until the 1km flag. At that point the course was closed. We walked our bikes for the final kilometer but it was very slow going through the massive crowds. We found the team buses and our plan was to be at the chute where they pass through although we couldn’t get close to that.
Meanwhile, back in Lourdes, Adrian on a breakaway…
Back in town, we took up position on the barriers to watch the caravan go by. It was quite comical because seemingly anything thrown to a French kid would bounce off their hands and into mine. It helped growing up playing sports where we used our hands. And as I did last year during the Tour, anything I caught I handed it to a kid. I’m not a jerk. Usually.
The caravan coming through Lourdes
After watching the caravan go by we moved to the 1K “kite” (generally known globally by the French name, flamme rougue, or red flag). Here we could watch them fly by and watch the last few hundred meters of the race on TV.
The flame rougue two hours before the race in Lourdes
There were a number of Norwegians on our corner but Thor Hoshovld had to overtake two French riders to win. I knew the Norwegians would cheer when Thor made his break but it seemed like everyone was cheering when Thor went ahead with 2k to go.
When we saw Thor fly by, we made our way to the team buses to see most of the riders come back.
Big screen TV at 1km to go
It was a different way to see the tour but got us close to many riders. We heard Thor win but couldn’t see him. We were in the bus area where the riders would be going to their team buses.
Fränk Schleck
We ended up next to Leopard-Trek bus. We saw Fränk Schleck come out (or just before he went in) and sign some autographs.
And I got a picture with the Devil.
Leopard-Trek roster painted on the team bus Andy Schleck, Fränk Schleck, Fabian Cancellara, Oliver Zaugg, Bruno Pires Jens Voigt, Dominic Klemme, Fabian Wegmann, Robert Wagner, Linus Gerdemann ,Davide Viganò, Daniele Bennati, Giacomo Nizzolo, Maxime Monfort, Wouter Weylandt Jakob Fuglsang, Anders Lund, Martin Mortensen, Martin Pedersen, Brice Feillu Will Clarke, Stuart O’Grady, Stefan Denifl, Tom Stamsnijder, Joost Posthuma BOLD = Riders at the 2011 TdF
Arriving in St. Lary-Soulan I passed through Arreau which was our start location for riding last year when I was on a Trek Travel trip. I was driving a small portion of tomorrow’s stage to Luz-Ardiden. I noticed the tour route signs and thought how neat it would be to have one after the Tour goes by.
I met Adrian Register at the Hotel Mercure in St. Lary and we drove over to Luchon. It was chilly, perhaps about 60° (15° C). We drove through town and were having a hard time finding a legal place to park. We found a space on the street and Adrian talked to a small business owner whether we could park there or not. He offered to let us park in his small parking lot in front of his store. Very nice.
Adrian and I planned to ride the Port de Bales. But Adrian talked to the business owner and he advised against it. A heavy storm last night brought down a number of rocks on the road. We changed and decided on Superbagnères. He advised our proposed climb was “pretty easy.” We think he was being sarcastic.
A sign near Arreau
We left town and started climbing immediately. The scenery was stunning even as a light rain started to fall. Conditions turned worse. We talked about turning around but wanted to finish the climb.
Superbagnères is a ski station The climb is listed as 18.5 km and climbs 1,170 meters (6.3%). It rises to 1,800 meters (5,905 feet). It has been used in the Tour six times, most recently in 1986 when Greg LeMond and Bernard Hinault battled up the slope and again in 1989.
The cold rain started on the descent. We were unprepared. We had to be careful on the wet roads but hurried back to Luchon as fast as we could.
We were both so cold and wet when we got back to the car we kept the heat on high all the way back to St. Lary.
Adrian Register
We also noticed as we passed through Arreau that the directional signs were gone. And appeared in the windows of the campers along the route. I would never remove the sign before a stage but apparently many do. These are the best souvenirs from the Tour. My mission would be to find a sign after the Tour. A very difficult mission for sure.
We began our day with a beautiful breakfast spread at the Mercure Sensoria de Saint-Lary-Soulan. One field up for the day, we rolled out of the hotel for seven miles and then began an absolutely gorgeous climb up the Col d’ Aspin. It was quite chilly at the start here in the Pyrenees and many riders wore arm warmers and or jackets.
The excitement was great. Yesterday it was I can’t believe that I am (finally) riding in France. And today it’s we’re going to see an actual stage of the Tour de France. And, of course, ride in France. Climb a major mountain.
Marking 100 years since this was first climbed in the TdF – 1910
We rolled out as a group and stayed together for the first 10 km to the town of Arreau which is where we started yesterday. I noticed that Rich McCrea had dropped off the back to adjust his bike or clothing and I dropped back to pace him back up. Of course, it wasn’t necessary but he appreciated it.
In Arreau we turned onto the climb of the Col d’Aspin. The climb was 7.3 miles long (11.8 km @ 6.5%) but not as steep as the climb yesterday up the Pla d’ Adet (8.8%). When it is a steep climb like yesterday’s up Pla d’Adet, I do not want to stop for any reason but keep my heart rate elevated. This is training for Mount Washington, after all.
A view from the top of the Col d’Aspin
But on this climb the scenery was spectacular and the grades, at times, were not that difficult so I pulled over 2-3 times to take photos. It was also like a Reston Bike Lane group ride where I am often called the Ambassador for Cycling by calling out “Morning!” to everyone we pass. Today was no exception. “Bon jour!” “Bon jour!” And I was usually greeted with “Bon jour!” until one young man was beside me and spoke English.
Adrian (L) and Barry (R)
We started talking and I found out (1) he is from England (2) his dad is from the U.S., (3) his mother is from France; and (4) his grandparents have a summer place in St. Lary which is where he, and we, are staying. Actually, Adrian Register, has dual citizenship, U.S. and French. Mostly me, but much of the group adopted him on our ride today. He rode with us up both climbs and we were able to get him to join our viewing. And he returned home with us as well. Meeting him will be one of my highlights of this Tour. One of our group even asked me if he was my son.
Barry at summit of Col d’Aspin
The descent down the west side of the Col d’Aspin was great but there were no signs warning the sharpness of the blind curves ahead. They could be sweeping curves or hairpins. The roads were hard to read and, like yesterday, I came away with an appreciation for how fast the pros descend and the risks they take.
We continued our descent until we reached the village of Saint-Marie-de-Campman at which point we began the climb up the Col du Tourmalet. It was crowded here with lots of cyclists, presumably about to climb the Tourmalet. Or maybe this was their viewing location.
Saint-Marie-de-Campman is a weird little town. Many residents have these almost-creepy lifesize dolls or mannequins in their windows or on their porch.
And then we began the 16.9 km climb (10.5 miles). This was longer, much longer, that the Aspin, and about the same steepness (actually 7.4% average). Much like the Aspin, stopping shouldn’t have been an option except the scenery demanded photos. It was so beautiful.
Dennis McDonald on water bottle duty
At a bridge overlooking a waterfall and crystal clear stream, we stopped for pictures and met a newlywed couple from Cincinnati, on a bike trip. Dennis McDonald went down to the stream to fill his water bottles. And he filled the bottle of our guide, Dave Edwards, who in turned, filled my bottle.
Crystal clear waters
Better than water from the Laurel Mountains in Rolling Rock Beer, we were told we can drink from any stream pouring down off the mountains. Having contracted an E.Coli infection last year, I probably should have known better than to drink the water, but I did. And it was great!
Snow shed on the Tourmalet and 5k to the summit
Ignoring my climbing instincts of never looking up, lest I be mentally defeated, I enjoyed looking for the summit which seemed so far away. It was far away. Adrian and I discussed what we were seeing and eventually decided we could see a snow shed with a number of campers lined up. And we were right.
Looking back at what we climbed (from the snow shed) That is the village of Artigues
Just before the snow shed a number of cyclists had stopped. To our right we could see why. The view to the valley jumped out and demanded that we stop and take a picture. It was both beautiful and intimidating realizing that we had just climbed so far up the Tourmalet.
We continued the climb to the ski village of LaMongie. There, Trek Travel had rented out a restaurant which would be our viewing location. We could choose either the rooftop view or street level. Or both.
The front of the restaurant was open to the street. Inside there was an open buffet. Adrian had climbed the mountain, actually two, from St. Lary and was going to look for a viewing location. One of our guides, Marquette, quietly invited him to join us. Trek Travel had 10 trips operating this week and at least two of our groups were at this restaurant. Maybe more, but not all 10.
Road closed to the summit
We were still four kilometers from the summit and it looked so close so Adrian and I slowly tried to make our way through the hordes of people in the street. We had gone about 500 meters when we were met with barricades across the road and manned by Gendarmeries. The race route had been closed to the summit and we had to turn back. But that was OK.
A view from the rooftop restaurant (three hours before the race)
We ate lunch and waited with excitement as the race caravan came through. It’s a parade on wheels as sponsors come by and throw newspapers, candy, caps, and even jerseys, to the crowd. What fun.
Waitress at our restaurant
Then some team cars rolled through, one by one, not speeding but not real slow either. They were traveling at the speed of the race. When the Astana team car came by, it was met with a chorus of boos that followed it all the way up the mountain.
Yesterday, Stage 15 to Bagnères-de-Luchon, Andy Schleck went to attack but dropped his chain. Alberto Contador then attacked while claiming he didn’t know Andy had a mechanical. Most fans saw that as attacking the integrity of the sport, their sport in France, and they let Team Astana know they did not appreciate Contador’s attack to take the yellow jersey off Andy Schleck.
Lance Armstrong in the breakaway
Although Lance Armstrong came out of retirement (2005) and returned last year and finished third, bad luck if not bad form followed him in this Tour. He was in 38th overall, almost 40 minutes off the lead of Contador then Schleck. He was reduced to stage hunting.
We were watching on the TVs inside the restaurant and saw that Damiano Cunego and Sandy Casar were in the lead group. When they finally came up the climb, there was Chris Horner and Lance Armstrong. I wasn’t even ready to photograph. Lance? You go!
An added benefit of having Adrian with us was he seemingly knew every single rider in the peleton. We knew a few of Radio Shack, Lance’s team, plus a few others but that was it. This guy knew them all.
Two Americans and former teammates #25 – Levi Leipheimer and #126 – George Hincapie
Contador came through with Schleck and was met with a chorus of boos. I wonder if Andy knew those weren’t for him.
Jens Voigt in the grupetto
The stage started in Bagnères-de-Luchon and climbed over the Peyresourde. On the descent off the Peyresourde Jens Voigt crashed. Both team cars were ahead so he had no replacement bike. The Mavik neutral support had been supporting a junior’s race and offered what they had – a kid’s bike. How does this happen? When he rode by his he was quite bloodied and bruised.
Jens Voigt on a child’s bike Source: cycling-passion-com
When it was time to descend everyone had to ride down the Tourmalet. This was a friggin’ blast. Cars and campers lined the road on the way down and hundreds of cyclists went down in the left lane, which was open to oncoming traffic. Sometimes it meant passing 2-3 cars then cutting in while others meant passing 10-20 cars even while entering a blind curve. If cyclists ahead of you go through it one assumes there’s not a camper coming up the road. One can be wrong.
Saint-Marie-de-Campman
Traffic was backed up solid the last two miles. Advantage: cyclists.
At the bottom there was a bus waiting that Trek Travel had chartered. Anyone who didn’t want to climb the Col d’Aspin from the west side could take the bus back. Many did. I didn’t. And neither did Adrian although that offer probably didn’t apply to him but I bet our guides would have permitted it.
Returning over the Col d’Aspin A few hours earlier this was the KOM point with banner and barriers. They tear it down fast.
At the top of the Aspin, someone got a race report that Lance was only a few minutes back of the lead. He wasn’t ahead by 40 minutes for the virtual lead so it must have meant that he was simply at the front end of the break. We knew we had time to see the finish if we hammered the descent on the Aspin. We did. At the base of the mountain in the village of Arreau, we stopped in a bar and watched the end on their big screen. Lance didn’t win although he was at the front with about 100 meters to go. Pierrick Fedrigo won the stage in an eight-man sprint. Lance finished sixth (same time), the top end sprint no longer present. Contador remained in yellow with an eight seconds lead over Schleck.
Town of Arreau
A lasting memory I will take from this trip is that of my grandfather’s cowbell. Many mountain top climbs have people ringing cowbells and Trek Travel handed out very small tiny baby cowbells. I gave mine to Adrian. I either didn’t hear the directions well enough or follow them exactly but we were to pack what we wanted on top of the mountain yesterday for transport ahead of time since it would be closed to traffic at some point. As I was getting ready to go this morning I found the cowbell.
My grandfather, William T. Lowmaster, had been a farmer and before his estate sale, I was able to get a very old cowbell from his barn. This hand made (I think) bell had a wooden clapper. The sound was absolutely super. It was heavy and the sound was solid. When I rang my cowbell, people listened, even the cows on the hillside. I was told some people thought I went and stole the bell from the cows. Not true.
One of our guides, NicoleKimborowicz, transported the bell to the summit so I had it when I was there. Thanks Nicole!!! For a brief time this afternoon, I felt a connection to my grandfather just ringing that bell. And all the Trek Travel bell holders were jealous.
Lovely town of St. Lary
Our day ended with a ride back to St. Lary, saying goodbye to Adrian, and then exploring St. Lary for dinner. It’s not quite Gatlinburg but think mountain village with open shops on the street. It was a GREAT day in the saddle.
Stats and graphics from procyclingstats.com
EDIT/EPILOGUE – Generally, the cycling community saw Alberto Contador’s attack two days earlier when Andy Schleck dropped his chain as very unsporting. Although Thomas Voekler would win Stage 15, Contador took 39 seconds on Schleck, which was the same amount that he would win the Tour. The title was stripped from him two years later. Andy Schleck was named the winner of the 2010 Tour de France.
