A Cancer Survivor's Journey to Find Peace on a Bike
You have stumbled upon the personal blog of Barry Sherry. It is my private journal but made public. After keeping a journal for years I decided to push this out to the web. Maybe someone will find some information of value.
I have included the names, and in some cases, photos of others I have met in my journey. If you are mentioned and do not want to be, kindly contact me and I can change that.
Enjoy the blog. If you would like to know more about me, click my About Me page.
*as of Jan. 2024
HARRISONBURG, VIRGINIA
It was a rough week with illness. I did no riding most of the week opting instead for heavy doses of Nyquil and daily naps. I didn’t think I would ride on Thursday but snuck in the Thursday evening club ride of just 15 miles. On Friday I rode with Tim but pulled the plug at 24 miles.
Yesterday was a private VIP ride with Jeremiah Bishop for top fundraisers for the Cancer Journeys Foundation / Prostate Cancer Awareness Project. I went from thinking I would miss the event early in the week to downgrading the distance I would ride. First I changed from 100 miles (Gran) to the Metric Century (65 miles/ Medio) and then I switched to the Valley View Adventure (36 miles / Piccolo).
I suffered on the VIP ride even though it was an easy-paced ride. I had ridden to the ride from my hotel in Harrisonburg so my final mile was uphill back to the Hampton Inn & Suites (University). I thought I might have to pull into a parking lot partway up just to catch my breath.
I never thought about not riding today. The only question was how far. And did I want to change my ride category yet again? I opted for the shortest route, the Piccolo or Valley View Challenge (36 miles / 2600′)
At 8:00 a.m. I was called up to the front of the group for photos and the rollout. I’m always at the front as prostate cancer survivors are invited to come to the front. That means photo time as we roll out of town. I knew that Robert and I would be riding together on the Piccolo route. And as we rolled through town I willingly started slipping back through the group. And he slipped farther back.
Just two miles into the course the route makes a sharp right turn onto Switchboard Road. The next six miles are on a narrow country road and a few hundred riders squeezed together create an accordion effect. It’s generally not an enjoyable experience. Actually, those eight miles are my least favorite miles of the route simply because the road is too crowded and some riders are a little too peppy.
Today I hung on the back of the group trying to gauge my breathing. If I needed to bail out early, I would. At the turn where the routes split, I stopped and waited for Robert and some other riders. Cool at the start I used the wait time to remove a T-shirt I had been wearing. I had been sweating and the cool mountain air felt good.
I went into today just wanting to enjoy the weather – the best ever in 14 years of the Alpine Loop Gran Fondo. This event supports prostate cancer and I saw it as fortuitous that my bib was #15 as next month I will be 15 years cancer-free.
It seemed in almost no time we reached the rest stop. I was truly caught by surprised that we were there that quickly. It’s not that we were riding fast, we weren’t, it’s just that the time flew by in conversation. This was also the starting point a mile down the road for a 22-mile loop. Fudge the math a little but this is the difference between the Valley Adventure ride and a Metric Century.
I had been chatting with a guy and he left the rest stop before we did stating, “I know you’ll catch up with me.” Well, no we won’t if you ride the Metric and we don’t which is what happened. Nice guy but I never saw him again.
My Whoop band had my recovery in yellow, the 12th straight day I have been unable to have a full recovery. But this was the first day in the last seven that I started to feel better. I thought about changing my route to the Metric, even on course, but I also worried that I might bonk around Mile 50. I didn’t know how one week of illness might affect me so I stayed with the shorter route. Plus I was enjoying the company.
I let myself think of one goal. There was a sprint section on course. Last year I had a sneak peek at it without actually racing it. I had gone for a timing chip at check-in but wasn’t doing the mountain route. I asked a volunteer if I needed one and they said I did not. Of course, they were wrong. But since I didn’t have a timing chip when I came to it I offered to pace a woman on my wheel and maybe help her get on the podium. She didn’t hold my wheel and I had a decent time but didn’t push it. But I thought my pace that day put me in the running if I would try.
I had dropped behind my group. I stopped on the one-lane bridge for a photo op. The group rolled ahead without me. I had no stamina. I didn’t expect that I would.
Being alone and not being distracted by a conversation, I was looking for the sprint start. It was well marked and almost invisible. There was a vertical banner flag marking it but if you weren’t looking for it you might not see it until crossing the timing mat that marked the spot.
I saw Robert and John about 100 meters ahead of me. I saw them cross the timing mat and both started their sprints. I ramped it up and took off. It was the best that I felt in over a week. Robert and John who had been 100 meters in front of me were a bit surprised when I flew past.
My feeling of strength would not last. The segment was 800 meters long and around 600 meters I faded badly. I wanted to get out of the saddle and spring the last 200 meters but coulnd’t stand. I just didn’t have it.
Yet, as I crossed the line I saw that I had set a PR on a similar segment on Strava so I thought I did okay. The exact timing of this segment was not a Strava segment. It was my best time on this segment. It wouldn’t be known until we finished how I actually finished compared to others.
A group of four of us came to Mole Hill. The climb before Mole Hill may have been tougher and I went up first and then waited for the others. Robert was taping and let those two go ahead. I wanted to go last and pass everyone on the climb. One of the guys was up the road by at least 200 meters before I hit the start line.
I took off and quickly passed my two rabbits up the road. I didn’t consider this as a KOM and didn’t go all out. I wanted the sprint segment and was happy with that effort. Robert said something about racing for socks so I knew a jersey wasn’t on the line. I was happy with my effort and know I could have gone deeper but why bother? I didn’t understand all that was on offer.
Back at the finish line I got a text that I was on the podium. Third, second, or first? When they announced the sprint results for 65-69 they called two names but not my name. And then I was in first. Nice.
There was a second podium for the Gran Fondo Series. I’m still trying to understand all the timing. When I got home I could see that not only did I win my age group, I would have taken second place overall with no age categories, losing only to a 45-year-old from Wisconsin.
I am pretty stoked about this PR / podium. I saw the sprint segment last year and perhaps in 2021. There was no event in 2022. I wanted to train for it but my illness kept me from training and from having the stamina necessary. I normally would be able to maintain my spring the entire distance.
While I am very happy for the podium I am also aware that this was in the Piccolo group, the shortest route available. Most stronger riders would choose a longer ride. So I went and checked my time against everyone in my age group in all the categories. I wish I could say I was first overall but I wasn’t. I was second overall. Second.
I am pretty happy about that. I also realized that my time was done after 40 miles in the legs and not 65 or 100 miles. I accept that. But it bodes well for next year and I will be changing age groups as well. Bring it on!
HARRISONBURG, VIRGINIA
Today was a special day – the Alpine Loop Fran Fondo VIP Ride for top fundraisers. This event was on my calendar all year but as the time approached I did not feel well.
Something respiratory. Tuesday and Wednesday was spent napping. Nyquill was my best friend. I wasn’t feeling like a ride on Thursday but by 5:30 decided to try the Thursday Night Ride. It went okay.
Yesterday Tim and I headed out to Bastable Mill Road for a 32-mile ride with bailout options. I chose one that cut it to 24 miles.
I had been targeting this event for some age group KOMs. Those were gone. My fitness was gone. It may have peaked in August with the ferry rides. I changed my registration for tomorrow from 100 miles to the Metric Century (65 miles).
We met at the bike shop. It was great to see Jeremiah and Erin as well as Robert, the founder of Cancer Journeys Foundation. We had nine riders for our VIP country ride. This are is nestled between the Blue Ridge Mountains and Skyline Drive to the east and the Shenandoah Mountains and the West Virginia state line to the west. While technically the Shenandoah Valley, this valley is anything but flat.
We rolled out and rode as a group. I was testing my fitness and failing. I’m not congested but never felt I could breathe. I was short on nutrition this week – oatmeal was my dinner last evening. I needed to see how I felt for yet another decision.
We had a flat in the group and I convinced Robert to ride ahead with me until the group caught up. I told him we would soft pedal while waiting for them but of course, I meant we would ride normally and still be caught.
The ride ended at the bike shop and registration tent. However, that was an hour away. I had ridden from the hotel and decided to ride back to the hotel. Normally I would ride back and then return by bike. But the climb back to the hotel drained me. I showered and then drove back to registration.
At registration, I was asked to confirm the Metric course. And I said to downgrade me again to the 38-mile route. If I had to I could ride the 65-mile route. But I would be going so deep on a depleted body that it would set my recovery back even further. I know things aren’t right because this is a ride I look forward to and I am dreading it. I need recovery which isn’t there.
Fingers crossed.
LEWES, DELAWARE
The challenge: Circumvent the Delaware Bay. The route was relatively straightforward. Go up through Delaware and return through New Jersey. Crossing the Delaware River by bike took some planning.
I utilized the mapping features of RidewithGPS and drew a ride from Lewes to Delaware City. The first was using the app and it produced a 97-mile route. The second used the website and it produced an 80-mile route. That’s a big difference mostly involving one hour of riding time.
That time would be significant. Saving “the best until last” I wanted to ride most of the day and then finish my day with a ferry ride. If I rode from south to north I would be racing to meet the last departure of the ferry for the day – a 3:00 p.m. boat from Delaware City to Pea Patch Island then to Fort Mott, N.J.
The Cape May-Lewes Ferry runs all day so there was no time constraint in rushing to meet its schedule other than what I would impose on myself by the reservation I made. The Forts Ferry Crossing operates Wednesday – Sunday from 9:30 until 3:00 in summer and weekends only in May and September.
Granted, the simplest would be to ride counterclockwise. Leaving Lewes I could catch an early morning ferry on Friday and then catch the 9:30 a.m. ferry in Fort Mott, New Jersey on Saturday. But it is nice looking forward to a ferry at the end of a ride. It is not nice to monitor the time during the ride and even skipping lunch because of a ferry schedule.
I contacted my friend, Branan, who lives in southeastern Pa. for a recommendation. He in turn connected me with his friend, Marty, who is from Delaware. Marty and I discussed logistics. As long as the ferry was an option I was going to utilize it. The closest bridge crossing is not until the Ben Franklin Bridge in Philadelphia – a 90-mile detour.
Websites are great but few can answer every question or permeation that one may have. I couldn’t figure out with certainty whether I could take my bike and take this ferry across Delaware. Where is George Washington when you need him?
On Wednesday, the day before I left, I called the ticket office for the ferry. I was told I could take my bike. Just be sure to arrive before the last ferry (3:00). Buy a ticket in the office, no need to do it online in advance. Board the boat to the island. Stay on the boat then go to Fort Mott. It sounded simple.
Yesterday I went to Easton, Maryland, and rode out to Tilghman Island. I was chasing miles because on June 23 I was 970 miles behind my plan for the year. I also wanted a flat ride to get a good measure of my speed. I came in at 17.0 mph (27 kph) and wanted to use that to determine my riding time to Delaware City. I determined I should leave by 8:00 a.m. to allow myself plenty of time to make the boat.
Lodging was at Home2Suites by Hilton in Lewes. I should have checked in advance for the parking situation because I did not know before I checked in whether I could leave my car for an extra day. I could. They have plenty of open space next to the hotel and Cletis said there would be no problem leaving the car for a day while I rode to Pennsville for the night.
The night was short. There was an alarm in the room that had been set for 5:15 a.m. Not my alarm. Not my setting. Not a great way to start the day. I did try to go back to sleep for an hour or so but my Whoop Recovery was still in the red (33%). Well, here goes …
I was 23 minutes later leaving the hotel than I wanted. I was on the road at 8:23 a.m. It was windy. Most of the day it felt like I was fighting a headwind and my “windsock” measurement shows my longest continuous headwind was for three hours and two minutes. It was tough riding.
Destination: Delaware City. Fort Mott. Pennsville. I was only slightly confused leaving the hotel trying to find the driection my GPS wanted me to follow but soon found myself on the Georgetown/Lewes Trail.
The roads in southern Delaware were great. Mostly I had roads with wide shoulders. Magnolia was only 35 miles into the ride and Marty had suggested a water or food stop there because it was pretty barren the rest of the way. I did not need anything at that point nor did a convenience store jump out at me. Perhaps if I saw one if would have stopped. I didn’t.
From there it was a brief ride on Del. Rte 1, a busy 4-lane road with wide shoulders. After two km I turned onto Del. Rte 9 – a back road generally with no shoulders although occasionally there was room to ride to the right of the white line.
Marty examined the two different routes generated by RideWithGPS. Both went through Dover. He suggested the brief foray onto Del. Rte. 1 and to get to Rte 9 as soon as possible. RideWithGPS did not like this. I could not connect two points and be routed onto this road. This appears to be a mapping issue with Google Maps as they must have this road off-limits to bikes. RideWithGPS uses Google Maps on the back end.
In 2024 we can create or find a route we want to ride, upload that to our bike computer, and follow the map, not unlike a car’s mapping functions. The problem I had was I couldn’t map this section and had to resort to the feature of “drawing lines” instead of “following roads.” The only question I had on this ride was this section and my manual change to override the mapping feature worked perfectly.
I came to Little Creek (Mile 43) and saw the welcoming flags of OPEN that businesses will put out. I stopped at the Little Creek Grill. It has a small dining room and a counter. It was 11:30 a.m. and was packed. I had to ask one guy to stand up from his table to get past him to the cooler to grab water. I paid at the counter and thought that perhaps I should buy a second water to top off my second half-full bottle. He seemed bothered enough the first time. I didn’t try for a second.
At Mile 63 I was running short on water. I saw the welcome flags flying at an establishment and pulled in. It was Crab 73. I walked in and there was a man behind the counter with no shirt on. Two basins of crabs. But a refrigerator of water. $1 each. I took two. Thank god I found this place.
In reviewing the routes, Marty told me I had a better bridge crossing over the Chesapeake and Delaware Canal. For some reason, I pictured that I avoided a very high bridge and was taking a back road with a draw bridge across the canal.
As I approached the Reddy Point Bridge I could see the road going up. It was an impressive sight to see rising above the otherwise pancake-flat horizon. My legs did not like the thought of a climb now.
It was two lanes, no shoulder. It was no different than the 80 miles behind me and I liked to think that now I was visible in a straight line with two brightly shining rear strobe lights. I would be okay. Maybe 10 vehicles, at most, passed me and all were respectful. The most annoying thing about the bridge was that there were large junction gaps in the bridge deck every 20 meters or so.
In Delaware City at 2:15 p.m. I went straight to the ferry ticket office to buy my ticket. A very nice woman sold me one for the 3:00 departure. I asked about the 2:30 and she told me I could board it but it would go to the island, return, and then leave at 3:00 for the island before heading to Fort Mott.
I informed her that I really wanted a burger. She wasn’t real sure of fast service at Crabby Dicks and recommended a sandwich shop, Sabatina’s. I entered the shop which was permeated by a rotten cigar smell. I bought a Coke Zero and left. I went for ice cream instead.
Sitting outside a shade-covered table, two young women and two kids came by with ice cream. They looked at the tables in the sun and I invited them to sit at my table for six in the shade. Nice family. They were babysitting the kids.
I went over to the ferry at 2:50 p.m. When I was sure everyone was off I walked up with my ticket. The man couldn’t have been nicer. He showed me where to put my bike. We left at 2:58 p.m. Hmm. Glad I didn’t show up at 3:00.
The ferry stopped at Pea Patch Island, dropped a couple of passengers then picked up more to continue to New Jersey. I had mapped a riverfront ride to the hotel and it worked perfectly.
The hotel was the Hampton Inn, Pennsville. At the front desk the clerk was eating a sandwich and didn’t seem to want to be interrupted. I went to my room (digital check-in), showered, and then walked next door to the Cracker Barrel for dinner. Back at the hotel, I asked for the snack mix as my Diamond Member rewards. He said they were out. I asked for the cookies. He said they were out. “Water,” I finally told him.
PANIC ENSUES
While at Cracker Barrell I decided to book my trip on the Cape May-Lewes ferry for tomorrow. I rbought up their website and clicked on the calander date. There were no available times for sailing! I had looked earlier in the week and it seemed like everything was wide open. But no bookings were available. I screwed up.
My goal of circumventing the Bay just took a big hit. Did I want to stay an extra day instead? The answer is no, I did not. I would have to go back the way I came. Back over to the Delware Forts Ferry website.
There is no ticket office at Fort Mott, New Jersey. One must buy a ticket in advance. I bought a ticket for Saturday morning at 9:30 a.m. – $11. The route back played out in my mind. It would be okay. Sleep a little later before hitting the road.
I went back to the Cape May-Lewes site once again. Maybe there was a cancellation. Then it dawned on me. I had been looking at today’s date for sailing. Seems strange that nothing late showed as available but it actually wasn’t. The last boat had sailed. I checked for Saturday, Aug. 24 – and there were openings available all day.
I booked a fare for 2:30. Options included 1:00, 3:30, and 6:00 p.m. My original plan was back on.
JERSEY RIDING
I went to breakfast at the Hampton and out the door at 8:00 a.m. The weather was pleasant and just chilly enough I wore sun screen arm protectors as arm warmers. The roads were surprisingly nice.
Virtually the entire way to Cape May I was on roads with wide shoulders. Also, the terrain tended to be rolling. No real hills per se but enough variability in the terrain to require me to shift gears often.
Bridgeton, N.J. was interesting. It reminded me of Portland, Oregon, minus the hipsters on their bikes doing track stands at the traffic lights. But it did have the same amount of broken glass along the shoulders. Wanting a nature break I saw the golden arches and thought I would use their rest room. In the entrance vestabule I was going to bring in my bike but saw a “beater” bike already there. I thought if someone had to hide that bike there was no way I was going to slip inside for two minutes and leave my bike unguarded. I left.
Riding through Cumberland Co., I went past the New Jersey Motor Sports park – a noisy proposition for sure. Near Mauricetown I went “off script” and I’m not sure it was the right decision. But I think it was.
I had traveled 44 miles and was low on water. Unlike the last 40 miles in Delaware, there seemed to be gas sations and/or convenience stores most of the way to Cape May. But I saw a Wawa.
My rule of thumb while riding, especially long distances by myself, is never pass a Sheetz (without stopping). And here east of the Susquehanna, that applies to Wawa as well. I got two waters and was good to go. I checked my maps.
What I had mapped out weaved back and forth a bit headed down to Cape May. I was right next to the intersection with NJ 347 which looked to be a direct line to Cape May. I figured my original route was more on country roads and 347 was highway and I was right. I decided to take a peek and if it had a shoulder I would ride it.
I could feel my body tiring. I figured direct was better. I appears that I saved about four miles from my original route. I didn’t need the 15 minutes that I saved as much as I was glad to cut off miles. I started watching the clock.
The ferry departed at 2:30. Check-in was at 1:30 p.m. I still needed a ticket. I was glad to have shaved the miles.
One more convenience store and this time I bought water and a Coke Zero. The Coke would fit into my jersey pocket which as now empty of contents having eaten my way through the gels and food that I brought. A Snickers bar fit into my tightly packed backpack.
I departed the main highway and was in the residential area of North Cape May. No traffic but sometimes sandy streets and my route did not connect all the way through directly. One one street I must have had 20 straight blocks with a stop sign.
At the end of the street was a Dead End sign whereas my map on my Wahoo wanted me to go straight. I saw an officer and asked if the ferry was straight ahead. She pointed me up the road and told me there was a bicycle entrance.
I purchased my ticket online but apparently I needed to trade that in for a paper ticket. I parked outside the terminal and went in. Maybe it was the matching ID to the name in order to get the ticket. Most places the ticket on your phone is good enough but here you still need paper. Whatever it was, I got my ticket and was good to go. It was 1:41 p.m.
While I was waiting two guys came over to me to chat. One was on a motorcycle while the other was on an e-Bike. Both wanted to let me know that they ride “real” bikes when not on the machines they were riding that day.
It was 2:20 p.m. until the first passengers were invited to board – two bicylists. There are bike racks amongst the cars. I removed my Wahoo and Garmin Varia Radar from the bike a,d left the bike unlocked. I just didn’t think someone would pikc up my bike and put it in their car. And if they did – I would trust the AirTag in the bike to alert me to the location.
I went upstairs and grabbed a bite to eat. Found a table with USB ports, sat and relaxed. The trip across the Bay took almost 90 minues. It was 4:00 when we rolled off the deck.
From the terminal it was four miles back to the hotel where I had left the car two days ago. It was an easy ride, and I was back on the Georgetown/Lewes Trail for another mile.
Back at the hotel I was greeted by Celtis. “You made it!,” he said. I was parched and while he retrieved my suitcase with my car key in it, he also told me to take whatever I wanted from their cooler. The water was so good.
With gratitude to Branan and Marty for their knowledge and advice.
Lessons Learned:
I went light. I took a clean kit for the second day. I think I could have gotten by with washing it in the shower or even using the hotel laundry so I didn’t carry a second kit.
I had a mesh backpack with string straps. Go with real straps even if using a heaver backpack.
As much as I like saving the ferry ride for the last thing of the day, consider riding counterclockwise and hitting the ferries first thing. The Delaware ferry was an absolute 3:00 cutoff whereas Cape May was 2:30 but could have been made for 3:30 or 6:00 p.m. But on both days I was very aware that I had to make a time cutoff and I would not have that if I rode counterclockwise. Having a hard deadline adds a bit of stress.
The last 40 miles in Delaware from Dover to Delaware City on Rte 9 are mostly barren for supplies. Riding north to south in Delaware would place those 40 miles at the begnning of the ride instead of the end.
Fun adventure! Will I do it again? Doubtful. But I would like to. And I do recommend it. Maybe someone can learn from my mistakes.
EASTON, MARYLAND
I have ridden out to St. Michaels and Tilghman Island 5-6 times from Easton but always by land. I elect to come back via the ferry. And that was my plan for today.
When I parked at Idlewild Park in Easton, a small neighborhood park, I made a decision to try something new. I would go out to the ferry as well as come back that way. Or at least give me the option of returning via ferry.
I was chasing miles. I am way behind on my mileage goal for the year so my goal today was a metric century (100 km or 62 miles). The roads here are nice. Flat. Most of the roads are two-lane with wide shoulders that often are marked as a bike lane but safe to travel in them when they’re not.
From Easton to Oxford it is 10 miles on a shoulder to the Oxford-Bellevue Ferry. After disembarking in Bellevue it is 4.5 miles on a narrow two-lane country road out to the main road to St. Michaels. Once on the main road, it is 15 miles farther to Tilghman’s Island. There is a wide shoulder the entire way except in St. Michaels.
One can stay on the main street through St. Michaels and share it with cars. It is signed for 25 mph so a bike traveling 20 mph is not much of a problem. One can cut through a beautiful neighborhood or even find a bike trail (slow) to avoid the downtown. If one stays on the street it is about two miles of “city” streets before exiting town and getting back on the shoulder.
At Tilghman Island the shoulder ends and if you follow the road to the end it’s another three miles on a sparsely traveled country road. The distance from Easton, via the ferry, to Tilghman Island is 32.5 miles (51 km) of which 22.5 miles has a wide shoulder. Beautiful riding.
The ride out to Oxford was nice. On board the ferry a young man came by to collect the fare – $7 (for bikes, one way). He asked me if I wanted a round trip and I asked how much that was, knowing the car ferry was not double the one-way fare. He told me $14. I declined. That left the option of returning by the land road should I want to.
The winds were windy. Out here next to the Chesapeake Bay, it seems always to be windy. But the route I chose was an “S” loop and was out and back. Unless the winds shifted during my ride I figure equal parts headwind, tailwind, and crosswinds.
On the ferry was one car. The driver came over to me and asked me about my riding. Where I was going (Tilghman Island) and how far (60 miles).
My goal was a metric century and when I reached 50 km at Tilghman Island it was a perfect turnaround point. But so too would be riding to the end of the island. I rode to the end.
I seemed to be okay on my fluids and did not stop in St. Michaels for more water on the way back. I continued on to the ferry. My “oasis” awaited – the Scottish Highlands Creamery in Oxford.
There was a different fare-taker on board this time. I don’t think I’ve ever seen the same person twice collecting fares. There were two cars on the ferry. The driver of one came over to me to see how far I rode. It was the same guy I talked to going over. I rode 45 miles and he and his wife ate lunch.
Besides collecting miles, another goal of today’s ride was to gauge my riding speed. I would need that for the timing of my Delaware Bay ride. I finished with an average of 17.0 mph (27.4 kph) which was only 0.8 less than the last time I rode and we rode in a double pace-line the entire time. This was good and set me up for tomorrow.
DISTANCE: 65 miles
SPEED: 17.0 MPH
Bicycling Magazine published The 30 Hardest Hill Climbs in the World (most recently updated in 2022). I have always been more enthusiastic than talented but let me look at their list. Some I have done. Some I will never do (logistics mostly). And some I would like to do or do again.
The list:
The ones I have climbed are in bold. I came close to climbing the Mortirolo (#8) in 2014. I was on a Trek Travel trip in Italy and we were supposed to ride Mortirolo but we were rained out (they couldn’t get the support vans up there) and I never felt the need to get back there.
There are two on this list I may still do, Whiteface (4) in New York and Grimsel Pass (26) in Switzerland. I’d give myself about a 49% chance of climbing Whiteface and a 15% chance of Grimsel Pass.
Note: Since updating this to suggest that there was slightly less than a 50/50 chance of climbing Whiteface I realized I was confusing my mountains. I was thinking about Ascutney in southern Vermont, just off I-91. I may get to Ascutney, but I don’t think I will get to Whiteface.
Also, note to self: There is a nice primer on Swiss climbs if you’re serious about Grimsel Pass. And another at Cycling Challenge on the Gotthard Challenge and I will prioritize the Gotthard Challenge over Grimsel Pass.
I’ll keep climbing as long as I am able.
And now the new stuff. I introduce PDI – PJAMM Difficulty Index There is no perfect way to evaluate the difficulty of a climb, and indeed, it can be personal. A lightweight climber (not me) may find a longer steady climb more difficult than a shorter steeper climb. Likewise, a heavier rider may do better on long climbs but go into difficulty when the road turns steep. The PDI is an attempt to compare climbs. Your experience (and mine) may differ.
This looks at climbs I have done and is not a comparison of how difficult they are. The most difficult one listed here is Mount Washington, NH, and, IMHO, it’s not even close. Keep that in mind when looking at PDI.
And now the climbs, of the “Top 30,” I have done.
Mount Evans, Colorado
I first climbed Mount Evans in 2007 on a straight bar rental road bike. Then again in 2016 on my own bike – and I saw a bear! It was easier on my own bike after 400 miles and one week of riding in the Rockies. When I rode it in 2007 I said, “Never again.” And then rode it in 2016. I never learn. It is one of two climbs that I said, “Never again.”
Note: Mount Evans was renamed Mount Blue Sky in 2023.
Mount Lemmon, Arizona
This climb is absolutely beautiful. Just make sure you carry enough water. It is extremely dry and there are no water supplies until near the top. Camelbaks work. The locals know to start at 6:00 a.m. because it will bake. I climbed it in October 2011.
Mount Mitchell, North Carolina
Mount Mitchell is the highest point east of the Mississippi. It was never a bucket list climb for me but I climbed it in November 2020. Real cyclists can punish themselves by riding 100 miles from Spartanburg, South Carolina in the Assault on Mt. Mitchell.
Mount Washington, New Hampshire
Mount Washington, New Hampshire. The hardest of them all. I have ridden it nine times; the first time without changing my gearing. Two other times I was there the race was canceled (weather – of course).
The years: 2007*, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012, 2013, 2014, 2021, 2022, 2023* (2007 and 2023 were canceled).
Mont Ventoux, France
If I only had a Whoop Band in 2011. I had driven about six hours, was locked out of my pre-paid chateau, and spent the night sleeping in my rental car. And then I climbed Mont Ventoux. It became rainy and very windy but I had one chance in my life to get to the summit so I did.
Passo dello Stelvio
Her 48 switchbacks are calling me back. I first rode it in 2014 and planned a side trip while in Switzerland in 2017 but warm turned to cold and sun turned to rain and snow on the beautiful pass. I probably will never get back but would love to ride this one again.
Gavia Pass
A cold, wet day in June, 2014, my iconic image is seeing a bunch a teenage boys pushing their bikes up the climb where we rode. This was the snow-covered pass made famous by Andy Hampsten when he rode into Giro d’Italia and cycling history in 1988 (although he did not win that day – Erik Breukink did).
Col du Galibier
July 19, 2011, was the coldest I have ever been on a bike. I rode to the summit of the Col du Lautaret as rain turned to snow and had to abandon my attempt to climb the Col du Galibier. I never thought I would get a second chance. But in 2024 I went to France with Cykelnerven and was able to climb the Col du Galibier.
Mount Baldy, California
One of Southern California’s toughest climbs, this seemed to be a staple in the Amgen Tour of California. It was never a bucket list climb for me but when I went to Phil Gaimon’s Cookie Gran Fondo in 2018 I made it a point to find this climb.
Col du Tourmalet
In 2011 I went up and over the summit and back up again to watch the Tour de France. In 2010 I climbed it from both sides but was stopped 4km from the summit by the police for the Tour de France. It’s tough.
I climbed this in its entirety but not all at the same time. In 2010 while on a Trek Travel trip, we started in Lourdes and rode this climb to within four kilometers of the summit. About six km down we had a tent for our viewing location but a number of us rode to the 4 km spot where the road was blocked off to the summit.
In 2011 I returned to France and rode up the Tourmalet from the Campon side. Riding with my friend, Adrian, we went over the top and started to descend this side of the mountain. My rear wheel had a wobble. When we reached the tent area of the last year we turned around and went back up the Tourmalet to make our viewing location at the summit.
In terms of miles, I climbed nine miles of this climb in 2010 and, by accident, rode the final 2.5 miles in 2011. It’s a bit longer on this side (11.5 v. 10.5 miles) and a little less steep (7.1% vs. 7.6%). I struggled from the other side on 2011 and would say this side is a bit easier despite the PJAMM score of 28.6 vs. 28.4.
Alpe d’Huez
Another iconic climb. Probably the second one I would most like to repeat (after Stelvio).
And that is it. It’s a nice list of 30 climbs. According to the PDI (PJamm Difficulty Index, the three most difficult are Mt. Washington (NH), Mount Evans (CO), and Stelvio Pass. Personally, Mount Washington is much harder than Mount Evans or Stelvio Pass. For my type of riding the steepness of Mount Washington is a killer. It’s the only climb that I have to change the gearing of my bike.
I would put Mount Evans second because it along with Mount Washington are the only two climbs that I said, “Never again” immediately when I finished.
I will add one more.
Gotthard Pass, Switzerland
I would submit that the PDI completely misses on this climb in Switzerland. Granted, of the climbs in the list that I have done, the difficulty level of the Gotthard Pass is the easiest. I include it for the scenery, the switchbacks, and the surface. It’s almost eight miles of cobblestones. The difficulty level of riding on cobblestones increases greatly because of this road surface. It definitely belongs.
MENTON, FRANCE
Photos (Clockwise from Upperleft):
1. Kerry and Shona from MSIF at the summit of Col du Lautaret
2. Barry at the summit of Col du Lautaret
3. Barry and Conor
4. Col du Galibier
5. Conor and Barry at a cafe in Sospel, France
6. Barry at the summit of Col du Lautaret
7. Our Cykelnerven riders at Auron, France
8. Barry at the Col de la Bonette
Conor is from Ireland and is battling Primary Progressive M.S. I rode with him on two of our toughest climbs and he thanked me for giving him strength and encouragement to make it. In truth, riding with him gave me inspiration.
Total Raised: $5429 (5000 Euros)
Note: On June 4-9, I participated in Cykelnerven, a cycling event that benefits the Multiple Sclerosis International Foundation (MSIF). We took on some of the toughest climbs to be used in this year’s Tour de France.
FRANCE
For those who prefer a simple summary.
SATURDAY, JUNE 1
I flew from Washington-Dulles at 11:30 p.m. to Rejkevick, Iceland arriving at 9:00 a.m. Sunday with my connecting flight to Milan, Italy at 8:00 a.m. on Monday. I had 23 hours to kill. Or explore. I chose to explore.
I really needed to rest. Instead, I did some driving in Iceland but I was very tired. My wake-up call was at 4:00 a.m. to get back to the airport and on to Milan, Italy. I didn’t see much and would have been better served to stay at a hotel at the airport and make plans to see Iceland another time.
I flew from Iceland to Italy. When I gathered my luggage I found the hotel shuttle (with the help of the Terravision Bus guys) and went to the Doubletree Hotel. I had a sandwich in my carry-on from the hotel in Iceland that became my dinner. I did not try to sightsee in Milan. I was here 10 years ago.
TUESDAY, JUNE 4
On Tuesday, June 4, I stayed at the hotel until 2:00 p.m. and then went back to the airport which was the meeting point for our transport to Briançon, France.
At the hotel, we had staff introductions, a brief team meeting, dinner, and built bikes (for those who brought bikes and didn’t rent).
We awoke to a chilly but beautiful morning. All of us would ride from Briançon to the Col du Galibier. This was the last of my “bike-it” (bucket) list climbs; one I never thought I would do after being turned back by snow on July 19, 2011.
Our second climb of the day was the HC Col de Vars to the hotel. I was last. It was a tough day.
We began the day with a climb of the Col de Vars. After a 15-mile descent, we had an 11-mile climb up the Cime de la Bonette, the toughest climb of the week. It will be used in Stage 19 of this year’s Tour de France. I thought I was done for the day after that as mu teammates arranged a shuttle pickup to the hotel at the bottom of the climb. I rode ahead, uphill, to the hotel, in the rain.
We had a 20-mile descent followed by a 10-mile climb of the Col de la Cpuillole, which will be the finishing climb on Stage 20 of this year’s Tour de France. That was followed by a 20-mile descent and a bus transfer to Menton.
Our route changed from the plan to an out-and-back on the Col de Turini due to a road rally being held. I went a bit short and went swimming in the Mediterranean.
SUNDAY, JUNE 9
We took a bus to the airport in Nice. Sat 10 minutes at a toll booth when the driver refused to pay the toll, got pulled over and searched by the police, and the bus broke down. What a great trip to the airport. Flew from Nice to Hamburg to connect to Zurich.
MONDAY, JUNE 10
At check-in last night at the Zurich Airport Hilton I was upgraded to a relaxation room. I could have stayed in this hotel 36 straight hours. But I went for a 35-mile ride halfway around Lake Zurich and took the ferry across.
TUESDAY, JUNE 11
I returned two weeks earlier than planned on American Airlines Zurich to Philadelphia then Philadelphia to D.C. The flight time (aloft) from Phila. to D.C. was 29 minutes. The wait for luggage: 45 minutes.
Note: On June 4-9, I participated in Cykelnerven, a cycling event that benefits the Multiple Sclerosis International Foundation (MSIF). We took on some of the toughest climbs to be used in this year’s Tour de France.
MENTON, FRANCE
At breakfast, we looked at our route options for the day. Each day we had a route (basic) and a bonus route. My goal coming into this event was to ride to the summit of the Col du Galibier. After that, I did not care.
On Day One, I knew I had to ride the bonus miles because only the bonus included the Galibier. After that, I would take each day at a time although tentatively I thought for Days Two and Three I would not do the longest days as I would listen to my body. But on Day Four I would reassess and perhaps ride the bonus climbs.
The shorter planned route was basically a loop but with a pipestem out and back which was a downhill to a river. Conor and I both looked and said we would do that route but without the descent to the river and the subsequent climb back up. We had a plan.
And just like that the plan changed. There was an automobile rally on the route we had planned so Bo sent out a new route. It would be an out-and-back.
Everyone could ride as much or as little as they wanted to. Go out as far as you want and turn around when you want. This would be the climb of Col de Turini although the summit there was also blocked by the rally.
The route was a 10-mile climb up the Col de Castillon. After the descent to Sospel, the 15-mile climb to Col de Turini began. We were to form two groups on the road and I fell in with the second group. We had plenty of strong young climbers that took to the front group and I no longer fit that definition.
After the water stop in Sospel, I rolled out with Ernie and Conor. I told Conor I would ride with him as far as he wanted to go. I suspected the coaches would not want some stragglers going all the way today but maybe they would. They routinely put in extra miles by going up the mountains, turning around, coming back, and going up again. Maybe it’s all bonus miles for them.
I think my legs would have felt better if the Col du Galibier was the last climb we would do this week. But it was the first and everything was anti-climatic in a sense. My legs were not feeling so good.
Last night I had reserved my flight home from Zürich. It wasn’t optimal because I wanted to watch Stage 5 of the Tour de Suisse and ride the Furka Pass next week. But my conditions were simple.
No British Airways
No Heathrow Airport
I was also using AirMiles on American Airlines and I didn’t want to pay hundreds of dollars in fees, usually by flying through Heathrow. I was searching for something towards the end of the week but the only flight I found that was on American direct from Zürich to Philadelphia was Tuesday morning.
My original flight was ticketed for Tuesday, June 25. I had canceled it and the website stated the points would be returned to my account. This was a pleasant surprise as once before I departed Zürich early when Bormio had snow. It cost me $150 to restore the points and I was expecting to pay the same if not more. Then it was treated as a schedule change.
I had reserved the flight and went to pay for it last night but the system didn’t show that I had enough points even though I did with the canceled flight. The points were showing in my account but weren’t being recognized when I went to use them.
Rather than be on the road today until 5:00 p.m. I wanted to get back and take care of purchasing the ticket for my flight home. For these climbs your mind has to be all in on the road ahead. And my mind would be thinking about the reservation that was pending until I could take care of it.
Also, I wanted to go swimming in the Mediterranean Sea only because I had never done that before. So I never planned to ride a great distance today but would ride with others. I wasn’t going to peel off and be first back.
Ernie, Conor, and I went through the town, and another four kilometers past Sospel when the climb to Col de Turini began. At that point, Conor decided he was done climbing for the day, except for the climb back up to Castillon to get over the mountain and back down to Menton, of course.
When Conor turned around I went with him. “Nobody rides alone.” The water break was also our lunch stop but lunch would not be there until 1:00 p.m. It was noon.
We passed a quaint outdoor cafe and Conor suggested that we grab a drink (coffee, Coke). How fluent in French he is, I don’t know. But Conor asked if we could be seated and we were. I didn’t understand what Conor said in French. Then again I didn’t understand half of what Conor said in English either. 🙂
Conor is from Ireland. At one point I said to someone else that I didn’t understand half the shit he said and Conor retorted, “I don’t understand half the shit I say either.”
On Day Three (yesterday), a group of 10 of us had stopped for a coffee at a cafe on the descent to our pickup point. I sense this is more a European custom or tradition than done in the U.S. However, there are plenty of coffee rides in the U.S. so maybe it’s more that I don’t frequent group rides that make stops for coffee. Well, I don’t frequent many group rides either.
At the stop yesterday we all looked at the bill of €34 and wondered how we would pay since many of us were not carrying cash. It turned out that Conor picked up the check for everyone. So today I insisted was my turn.
As we were ready to leave I told Conor if he got the check or they brought their credit card device to the table that I would pay. He asked and the older of the two waiters we had said they don’t accept credit cards. Not a phone. Not plastic. Only cash.
What to do? Sospel was a small French village. Aside from a number of restaurants, it did not appear to have other commercial ventures. No banks. No ATMs. It does have a hospital though.
I suggested to Conor that we could ride back and see the staff at the lunch stop and hoped that they would have some cash. Kerry and Kathleen (at the time known only as Zach’s Mom), were at the stop. I thought that I could suggest leaving my phone as collateral and Conor and I could ride to the lunch stop and pick up some cash. It was no more than 250 meters away.
We rolled in and Kerry was surprised we were back so soon. We chuckled and told her we’d been back for an hour and all this time had been chilling at a cafe. But we needed cash. Now.
The younger waiter at the restaurant wasn’t concerned at all about the money. A couple of times he said “Don’t panic,” of course, we weren’t. But it wasn’t that big of a deal and it seemed if they had to comp two customers today that they would have. But we rolled back in with cash and settled up.
Lunch today was the same as lunch on Day One. And Day Two. And Day Three. A baguette of ham and cheese or salami and cheese. This is not to diminish the food choice or lack of variety. Each day these were perfect while riding although I could never eat and entire one.
On this day Kerry warned us. We would be chewing forever. And she was right. I don’t know what was in this bread. It wasn’t burnt or stale. Or was it? But it was hard to chew. I made mine an open-faced sandwich by tearing off the top of the sandwich.
Conor and I then began the ascent to Castillon. It wasn’t as steep as on the other side nor as long. The sky had darkened and we had some raindrops, but no real rain to contend with. At the top, we were in the clouds. He told me to lead the way because I had told him that I wanted to stop at two photo points, both to capture the stone arch bridge or viaduct I had seen. I had noted the exact locations by landmark and we began the descent.
I had noticed the bridge or viaduct and wanted to take a closer look. From a distance when we were climbing, I had hoped that we would cross it but as we approached I saw that it was closed. I’m not sure what the purpose of the bridge had been. I assume it was for a railroad* but perhaps it was an aqueduct.
Conor and I made the 10-mile descent back to Menton safely. Barry, from Ireland, would not fare as well. He wasn’t with us but on his ride down he was just one mile from the hotel. He went to transition from the street to a bike path and his tire caught the lip of the transition pavement and he went down hard. His bike was unridable and he had to use a SAG to get back.
I went to my room and checked on my ticket. My roommate was already in the room so I assume he turned around very quickly or didn’t ride at all. I don’t remember seeing him on the road.
On the airline website this time it allowed me to purchase it without telling me I needed more points. I made the transaction and then grabbed a towel. I headed toward the sea.
Across the street from the hotel is the Mediterranean Sea. The area closest to the street had the most sand but was a mixture of sand and rocks. The closer one got to the sea the rockier it got. I found a place to put my towel down and started to walk to the water in bare feet. It hurt my feet so much that I went back and got my flip-flops and wore them to the water’s edge.
The water seemed surprisingly chilly but was probably the same as the Atlantic Ocean in New Jersey- Maryland – Virginia**. There were waves but not violent ones. The sea floor was also very rocky.
Back at the hotel I showered and got ready to tear down my bike and pack it. But first I went for a walk outside the hotel. The back entrance was next to a street, a pedestrian street with shops. I found a store and bought some fresh strawberries. They were OK but did not measure up to the Finnish ones.
It was time to pack. Dinners were also later than I eat. The advice seems to be nothing after 8:00 p.m. yet in France all our dinners were after 8:00. I packed the bike bag and was ready to go. Not anxious to leave but we were leaving in the morning and it was nice to have everything packed.
In the evening we had a celebration. Jens’ had a friend, Lo, join us, and she was very delightful. Ernie’s wife was coming in at midnight.
And dinner next to the sea.
*This was an abandoned tramway line, the Viaduc du Caramel, that ran from Menton to Sospel. Built between 1908 and 1912 it is now idle.
**The actual temperature was 21℃ / 69.8℉ whereas in Virginia Beach, Va. the water temperature was 22.5℃ / 72.5℉. Plus there’s real sand in Virginia Beach.
Stage 20 of the 2024 TdF includes the climb from Sospel to Col de Turini. Most of the group went much of the way but the summit was closed today due to a car rally. We were originally scheduled to ride the Col de Braus as well but it was closed.
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Col de Castillon
PJAMM Fiets: 3.2 Distance: 9.2 mi. Elevation: 2250′ Avg. Gradient: 4.6%
Note: On June 4-9, I participated in Cykelnerven, a cycling event that benefits the Multiple Sclerosis International Foundation (MSIF). We took on some of the toughest climbs to be used in this year’s Tour de France.
SAINT EITIENNE, FRANCE
Breakfast at the hotel and we all gathered for a team photo. On paper it looked like we would have a 20-mile downhill leaving the hotel, followed by a 10-mile climb, and followed by another 20-mile descent. Easy, huh?
TEM PHOTO – GOES HERE
With four coaches from Denmark, we broke into two groups to limit exposure on the road. The bonus climb would be the Isola 2000, to be used as the finishing climb on Stage 19 of this year’s Tour de France. I would pass on this climb, thank you very much.
I don’t know if any of our group elected to Isola 2000. In fact, Bo may have taken that option off the table for everyone this morning. I do know it was not going to be an option for me.
Leaving the hotel we had a 20-mile descent. It was glorious. Except for the first five miles from the hotel which I had ridden yesterday, the ride was not technical but rather it was straight with some sweeping curves. The first five miles were more technical with steep ramps and hairpin bends.
When we reached the bottom at Saint Sauveur-Sur-Tinee and the turn to the climb, we all stopped. The instructions were to ride the next 10 miles at your own pace and ENJOY it. Stop. Take photos. It’s not a race.
The climb was a 10-mile climb to the Col de la Couillole. This climb is a narrow country road and will be the mountaintop finish of Stage 20 of this year’s Tour de France.
It wasn’t very far on the climb before I pulled over to take some photos. And then I was last. I am sure that Tu did the same thing as I caught him.
I caught Conor and we rode together for the first 3-4 miles. When we came to a bend and our team car was there I thought he told me that he was stopping to get a SAG to the top of the mountain. I went on.
I had gone about 400 meters when I came to another beautiful photo op and stopped. A French woman was coming down the mountain and I went to take a photo of her. She waved although I missed capturing it.
To my surprise, she stopped. She asked if I wanted a photo with me in the background. I declined. I don’t know why. Probably because I don’t want many photos of me.
We chatted for about five minutes, She was interested in the group and the mission. As she spoke fluent English I finally asked her where her accent was from. She laughed and told me to guess. She told me she lived in Alaska for four years and more recently was involved in something British so she had a mix of American and British.
We were then joined by Klaus. Or Frank. Or Jorgen. Hell, I never knew the coaches’ names other than Bo.
While we were talking Conor came riding by. What? I thought it was catching a SAG. Apparently, he was catching his breath and went on up the road.
I got ready to say goodbye to the French cyclist. She was a lovely person. She had ridden down the mountain and wasn’t sure how much farther she would descend, because she would get to ride back up. I knew she would catch us when she did.
Klaus and I started up and she went down. We would catch and ride with Conor but gapped him a little. He was never far behind us and I was conscious of where he was so we didn’t ride away. We had a good conversation about Jens Voigt and Lance Armstrong among others. (Others would include Allen Lim, Scott Mercier, Tyler Hamilton, Floyd Landis, and the Brothers Schleck, Fränk and Andy.) The time and miles flew by when our French woman passed us. I knew what Klaus was thinking. “Go chase her and ride with her,” I told him. And he did to no one’s surprise.
I waited for Conor and we came to the top together. We had a 20-mile descent to enjoy but the profile map showed a “bump” around Mile 19. It looked very steep, maybe 10%, but not too long. My legs dreaded that one.
The upper section was a bit technical (steeper with sharper curves). We came to a cafe where we all stopped for coffee. And a coke. Lactic builds up in these old legs and when we were ready to roll another 10 minutes went by. The other Barry and I decided we would roll out ahead but in the end only I went.
I had the course map and wasn’t afraid of getting lost but when they weren’t catching me I went back. They still hadn’t left. LOL.
We came to a canyon of red rocks. Red rocks and lots of tunnels. I never captured the photo that I wanted. We were no longer in the take your time and take photos mode. But I still took a few.
The road got a bit steeper. I love flying down mountains. I also love taking photos. I dropped back with Annaleis. The word was she didn’t have much experience and maybe she didn’t. She was cautious but not slow. She was sensible and not reckless. And what she gave away descending she made up climbing. She was rail thin so had nothing to carry up the mountains.
We brought up the rear and made no apologies for it. There two regrouping spots in the canyon. After leaving the second one my Wahoo said CLIMB! This was the dreaded kick up. In fact, it showed a 10-12% ramp (red) even as we were descending. It was weird. But whatever profile is attached to this road was wrong. We descended the entire way to the meeting point.
Our first three days we rode from hotel to hotel. Today would be to a transfer point and then a bus to Menton. Menton, not only on the Mediterranean Sea, would offer us the best luxury of all. Two nights in one place.
A 20-mile downhill. A 10-mile uphill. And a 20-mile downhill. Transfer to Menton.
Lodging would be Hotel Vendome, Menton. Dinner at Le Grande Large, about 500 meters from the hotel.
TOUR DE FRANCE 2024 CLIMBS
Col de le Couillole – 1 678 m (5,505′) – 15,7 km @ 7.1%
PJAMM Fiets*: 8.9 – 9.9 miles – 3,756′
Isola 2000 – 2 024m (6,640′) – 16,1 km @ 7.1% (Profile shown on Day 2 – Stage 19)
PJAMM Fiets*: 9.2 – 10.1 miles – 3,795′
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*See PJAMM Cycling for a description of the climb
Note: On June 4-9, I participated in Cykelnerven, a cycling event that benefits the Multiple Sclerosis International Foundation (MSIF). We took on some of the toughest climbs to be used in this year’s Tour de France.
VARS, FRANCE
Is it better to know or not know what lies ahead? I had a general idea but did not study the profile maps. Each night Bo would tell us what we were in store for but if I looked my sleep would be worse than it already was.
Yesterday was brutal. The Col du Galibier was a bucket list climb for me and it was mission accomplished. But the route after lunch was more difficult. My legs were trashed.
The climb to the Col de Vars is a tough one. Twelve miles of switchbacks. About two-thirds of the way up is the town of Vars where we stayed overnight. We initially were to ride the full Col de Vars climb yesterday and then go back down to the hotel but Bo changed the route, maybe when he saw me.
On the menu today was the last third of the climb up Col de Vars, four and one-half miles (7.2 km). Once we regrouped at the top we would have a 13.5-mile (21.7 km) descent. And then …
.. We would begin the climb of the Cine de Le Bonette. I never heard of it. But it is the highest paved road in France. Even before we began the climb we were out of water. Conor had none but I still had a full water bottle on my downtube. I poured my water into his bottle. Bo called for a support car to bring us water.
We started the 15-mile climb and in the first mile, I saw a water fountain alongside the road and pulled over. Once I got restarted I came to our support car with water.
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Bonette
I rode solo for the entire climb. I think it was steep enough that if you were suffering, like I was, you were suffering at your own speed and pace. At one point I came upon the water car again. The occupants, Shona, Kerry, and George, yelled encouragement and asked if I needed anything. As I approached, I yelled, “Gels!, but I’m not stopping.”
George scrambled and grabbed two gels from the car. As I passed. I held my right arm back, palm up, and George made a perfect placement of gels into my hand.
With each kilometer, I would check the sign to see how much pain was ahead. The signs would show how far it was to the summit and the gradient of the next kilometer would be marked. Anything above seven would be met with a bad look. I kept looking for something less than five percent but never saw one.
Peer, the CEO of the Multiple Sclerosis International Foundation (MSIF) came by in his right-hand drive car. As he passed me slowly he asked if I needed anything. I yelled out “A sticky bottle!”
In cycling terms, a sticky bottle is a pass of a bottle from the team car to a rider on the bike. The “sticky” part is that in the brief moment of passing from driver to rider both people hold onto the bottle, thus it must be because it is sticky.
It’s not legal but is accepted so long as it’s not blatant, like more than two seconds. It’s akin to holding onto the car for two seconds. While it looks like it’s the rider who is responsible, remember the handoff is from the driver and it is the driver who has to let go once the bottle has been firmly grasped by the rider. And one needs to make sure it is gripped tightly because if the driver lets go too soon and the rider doesn’t have the bottle it could fall into the spokes of the rider or cause a crash of trailing riders.
Allen Lim, the nutritionist for Team Phonak in 2006 when Floyd Landis rode away, won Stage 17, and appeared to win the Tour de France, told me he thought Floyd’s ride was clean that day. He was fixated on the number of bottles Floyd took from the team car. They had 200 bottles, more than half of which he would pour over his head to help cool him on an extremely hot day (34℃ – 93℉ ). But if each bottle gave a two-second advantage, that would have been worth more than seven minutes. Seven minutes of holding onto the car.
In the end, Floyd’s ride into Morzine gained him 5’42” over Carlos Sastre, the second-place finisher. From the outside looking in, only Floyd, riding alone, had the advantage of the sticky bottle – worth up to seven minutes of holding on. Combine that with his excellent descending skills that he could solo on and no flat sections where the peloton would have an advantage, and one could reasonably conclude that his ride was clean with the main advantage being Mr. Sticky. Of course, Floyd later tested positive for artificial testosterone.
Peer said to me, “I’ve got a bottle but I don’t have any sticky.”
My face showed I was suffering. Inside I was laughing. Spencer handed Peer a bottle and Peer handed it to me. As soon as I took it he let go.
“What is this, this is no sticky bottle. I don’t want this.” I gave it back.
Peer was very confused. I can see him saying, “He asked for a bottle, I gave him one, and he gave it right back. These cyclists are weird.” (Probably)
I was dying laughing inside. Outwardly I was suffering.
It was a fun little diversion to break up the climb. I would not have wanted a pull from someone who did not know what a sticky bottle was and had never practiced the technique.
Yesterday in combining the Col de Vars at the end after the Col du Galibier made a very tough day. And now I was on a tougher and higher climb. Altitude is a problem even if one doesn’t notice. With less oxygen, there are fewer red blood cells being produced and going to your legs. I had no power and the entire way up the climb I was thinking about tomorrow.
Bo, our Cykelnerven Danish coach, defined success for each of us as making it to the end. He didn’t want anyone going so deep on one day or one climb that they couldn’t ride the next day. Left unsaid would also be so fatigued that they would crash. And I was fatigued.
The profile for today included a 15-mile downhill after the summit of La Bonette and a final five-mile climb to the hotel. I have never been SAG’d in any event. Whether stubbornness or pride, I also managed to avoid the broom wagon.
I thought yesterday on the Col de Vars that I might be SAG’d off the course as I was the last finisher. But they let me ride. Today I was pulling the plug. Once I got to the bottom of the next mountain I would join my teammates in taking a ride. It was the thought that the last time I had to pedal uphill was on La Bonette that got me over the climb.
At the summit, I was prepared for the final 500 meters or so when the road really turned up. We came to the top where the team car was but not the summit. Two quick lefts made a U-turn or a 180 back down the mountain. A quick left and quick right was the way to the summit.
There were a number of motorcyclists here milling around. About 50 meters farther the road was still blocked with snow. That was a loop road to the actual summit. We did not make it to the summit and I’m not sure that when the Tour comes here on Stage 19 they will either because it is not a mountaintop finish for them.
Our car was there with our dry bags. These were bags that we packed each day with warmer clothes so that when we reached the summit we could put on warm clothes for the descent.
Peer looked for my bag and said that it must have been in the other car. He offered me his mittens and even his coat. I declined. Everyone else had their warm gear on. In fact, Ian was with me at the summit but didn’t wait for me because he was getting cold. Understandable.
It was cold on the descent. The danger would be in wearing sweaty clothes, and I was sweaty, of getting too cold and going hyperthermic. It happened to me once. That was on the Col du Lautaret in July 2011. One can lose control of the bike when suffering from hyperthermia. On that descent the bike was shaking and I pulled over at almost every hairpin corner to steady myself.
But I went down safely, met the group for lunch, and were joined by others trailing. Most were in front of me but at least three were still behind. We talked strategy for the remainder of the day and decided we would all SAG when we reach the bottom to have something left for tomorrow.
Out of the lunch stop we still had a bit of descending to go. I left last and passed a couple of cautious descenders. That is, more cautious than me.
I always prided myself on being a cautious but fast descender. In 2010 and 2011 I seemed to go much faster on the descents. In 2014 in Italy on the Passo Fedaia, I went 53 mph (84 kph). This year I barely hit 40 mph (64 kph) before touching the brakes.
We came to an intersection and regrouped. Once we were ready to roll I led the way down to town. I thought I was going well when Bo passed me. I thought he caught me to slow me down. But I jumped on his wheel and followed his line. He kept looking back for others and there were none to be found. We came to the town together and waited. For one descent I got to show I could fly.
The sky looked a little dark but I did not sense rain was coming. We would have to wait for the van to come pick us up. Bo looked around and told everyone where we could wait if it started to rain. And he asked who was going to ride to the hotel. Then he looked at me and said “You are,” not a command but sort of sensed I would want to. And I did.
It’s funny. My legs did not feel good on the climb up Col de Vars and were awful on the climb of La Bonette. But when we stopped at Saint-Étienne it wasn’t so much as I wanted to stop as it was that I knew that I could keep going and so I did.
There was one other, Annaleis, who was planning to ride while the other seven stayed behind. Bo told me to go ahead as I had the route on my Wahoo. I hadn’t studied the climb because I hadn’t intended to ride this. While I knew it was only 4.5% grade I also knew I was in trouble when the first couple of miles were quite easy. That meant the last couple would be 8-9% to make that average.
Annaleis and one coach passed me. And the second one too. And it started to rain. It became a steady rain which was more refreshing than annoying although there was some thunder as well. Bo came back to make sure I was still plugging away and rode with me to the finish. For the second consecutive day, I was last finisher. Two days in and already locking up title of Lanterne Rouge.
The hotel was a quaint family-run hotel with a killer view of the Alps off the balconies we each had. Dinner was Lasagna (again), so large that no one at our table of eight could finish theirs.
Yesterday was my toughest day. Today was the toughest climb. And I didn’t SAG. I was exhausted. I knew or thought I would finish but I was not recovering. I started thinking that I should not go to Switzerland for a week and to Finland for the following week. I needed rest. I would look for alternatives and to return home.
Lodging and dinner was the Hotel Le Chastellares, a quaint family-run hotel with beautiful views. And a dog.
TOUR DE FRANCE 2024 CLIMBS
Col de Vars – 2 109 m (6,919′) – 18,8 km @ 5.7%
PJAMM Fiets*: 7.2 – 11.7 miles – 3,654′
Cime de la Bonette – 2 802 m (9,193′) – 22,9 km @ 6.9%
PJAMM Fiets*: 11.9 – 14.9 miles – 5,202′
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*See PJAMM Cycling for a description of the climb
