Category: France

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Col du Lautaret

LA GRAVE, FRANCE

My trip last year was my cancer recovery/celebration tour. That trip to France was part about the cycling and part about the viewing of the Tour de France. We had one major climb on that trip – the Col du Tourmalet. Of the 18 kilometers to the top, we climbed 14, having been stopped four km from the top. On two days, no less, once from each side.

This year’s trip was all about the climbing. I had four bucket list climbs to achieve: (1) Col du Tourmalet; (2) Mont Ventoux; (3) Alpe d’Huez; and (4) Col du Galibier. Having accomplished the first three, I needed only the Galibier.

La Grave is just 17 miles up the road (literally) from Le Bourg d’Oisans, the base of Alpe d’Huez. I stayed at the Hotel Castillan, an older hotel with a great view of the glacier across the road. The rooms were cheap – even cheaper if you got one without a private bath. They did have common shower areas (men’s and women’s). While the hotel wasn’t a 4-star hotel in accommodations, the staff was wonderful.

The glacier view from my room in La Grave

I chose La Grave as it would be a great starting location for my bike ride up the Col du Galibier. However, last night I checked the weather forecast and it did not look good. The high temperature for La Grave was forecast to be just 10℃ (50℉) with rain, heavy at times, moving in about noon. Up to one inch of rain was forecast. La Grave, at 1,135 meters (3,724 feet) is significantly lower than the Col du Galibier which sits at 2,642 meters (8,668 feet).

I got breakfast at the hotel, packed my bags, then checked out. I grabbed my warmer cycling clothes. I had only brought summer riding gear with some spring/fall accessories. I did not bring winter riding gear.

Depending on which direction one crosses the Galibier, one has to first summit the Col du Telegraph or the Col du Lautaret. From La Grave, it would be the Lautaret. At 9:53 a.m., I started my ride. I was cool, or cold, but dry. That would not last.

The roads to the summits at Lautaret and Galibier were both open

Light rain started almost immediately as I left La Grave. At 4 km I thought about doing the prudent thing and turning back. But I didn’t. I also knew that I was climbing the entire time so my return time would be four to five times as quickly once I made the decision.  

I kept climbing and the weather kept getting worse. The winds and rain both picked up and it was cold. On the Tour de France broadcast later that day the announcers on EuroSport were saying it was the worst weather they had ever seen for the Tour. And they weren’t on the climb to the Galibier.

A van from Thomson Tours passed me and pulled over. When I reached the van the driver asked me if I needed anything but I politely declined. I always remembered his kind act. I wasn’t part of his tour or any tour and he just stopped to offer assistance.

A summit sign for my collection

I sensed I was getting near the summit and I saw many campers pulled over in anticipation of Thursday and Friday’s stages which will go through here. I saw a camper with a Colorado flag. I had seen it on the slopes of the Tourmalet and then met the owner (renter) of it in St. Gaudens. With rain coming down hard and cold too, no one was stepping outside to say hello.

I continued 1,000 meters to the top then stopped and took a picture. Although I had a full jacket, arm warmers, Under Armour, full-length gloves, shoe covers, and leg warmers, I was freezing. These were not my winter clothes.

It was decision time. The rain seemed colder and I was soaked. I knew the farther up I climbed the worse my descent would be. And I became concerned for my safety. I turned around. Once I started downhill, I could not wait for the descent to end.

I was freezing as I was cold and soaked. Shaking at times, I descended as fast as I could to get back to La Grave. Of course, the faster one goes the colder it gets from the wind chill but the sooner one gets back to the start. I had a hard time controlling the bike I was shaking so much. The roads were wet and treacherous and there were many switchbacks. Once I reached the tunnel that goes into La Grave I felt a sense of relief.

In La Grave, I went back to the hotel, and although I had already checked out, I grabbed a clean towel from their cleaning cart and ducked into an open shower stall. I quickly got out of my soaking wet clothes and changed to dry clothes. I did not stop shaking for 40 minutes.

Still very cold but dry, I got in the car and decided to drive up to the Galibier. I figured that may be the only way I would ever see the summit. I knew the rain was very cold as it was hitting me but didn’t realize how cold it was until it hit the windshield. The raindrops were forming a splat pattern. This was snow.

I normally don’t make wise decisions when riding, especially when I’m tired. But today was one of my wisest. I was thankful that I made the decision to turn back.

On my drive to my next hotel, which was at the summit of the Col du Lautaret, I had been so cold I didn’t even notice that I had just biked to it. Back at the summit of the Lautaret, I decided to keep going up the road to Galibier. The snow was falling heavily and the road was soon covered. Driving an unfamiliar car with a stick shift, I was getting scared just being on this road. I looked for a spot to turn around but any open space was already occupied by campers. So I drove carefully to the summit.

I saw one guy on a bike trying to make it up but on my way down I didn’t see him. He must have wisely turned around or gone over the edge. Hopefully, he turned around. While it would have been hard pedaling up in the wind and 2″ of snow on the road, it would have been far worse descending.

I never want to be defeated by a climb but was sure happy I didn’t attempt this. Foolish and perhaps deadly.

I made it to the summit of the Col du Galibier, but not the way I would have chosen.

Snow Col du Galibier – July 11, 2011

I came to France to ride the Col du Tourmalet, Mont Ventoux, and maybe more than anything else, Alpe d’Huez. Anything else, including Col du Galibier, is just icing on the cake. I don’t need more icing.

Only later did I learn that on Sunday, 200 cyclists had to be rescued from here.

While some pictures of me and my bike at the summit of Galibier would have been nice, perhaps it is a better story to tell of the day I was turned back by snow. July 19, 2011.

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Alpe d’Huez

VÉNOSC, FRANCE

The first, and probably last, beautiful day I have had in France. Forty-seven degrees (9 C) at the start, Brian Hutchins and I rolled downhill from our chalet for about six miles to the base of the climb in Le Bourg d’Olsans.

Bridge behind our Chalet – Raging small river

The climb is beautiful. There are 21 hairpin curves and each is marked with a sign. On the signs are the names of one of the winners of a stage of the Tour de France that finished at the summit. The lower section seemed is steeper than the upper section. The contour is basically a ramp to a switchback which is flat, followed by the next ramp.

Morning in the Alps

We passed many cyclists and got passed by many. Probably got passed by a few more than we passed. They cheat.

A view of the valley from the Alpe

Near the top, they were setting up barricades about 3km from the finish already. It was surreal to ride through them. Barricades. For us. And while it is still four days before the Tour comes by, every spot where one could stop and park a camper had already been claimed.

Campers on the inside of a switchback

At a curve in the village of Huez, was a large contingent of Dutch fans. This was the famous Dutch Corner. They had one week’s supply of beer and were already partying even though the race didn’t come through until Friday. They had their music BLASTING and were having a great time.

<--This way UP This way DOWN -->

Unlike the fans in the Pyrenees, very few fans on this Alp cheered as we went by. However, in contrast to even the Tourmalet, there may have been 100 times as many cyclists going up the Alpe. If they cheered everybody they would soon lose their voices.

Dutch Corner at Huez

Brian and I rode together most of the way, but once we got inside the barriers I went ahead and I reached the summit maybe 500 meters before he did. I’m not bragging or anything. For years Brian was one of the fastest players in our lunchtime Ultimate game on the Mall. He’s younger than me. He’s faster than me. But the truth is I ride a lot more than he does. And I wanted to get a photo.

Brian (L) Reaching the Summit – Actually the ski town

At the top, I was able to wait for him and get a picture of him coming to the summit. Maybe I should have let him go first and take my picture.

Finish line on Alpe d’Huez. Brian (L) and Barry (R)

Actually, it wasn’t the summit but the ski town. We would continue another kilometer through a tunnel and one more climb to the actual finish.

Lunch at the top. This was the restaurant where Brian and I ate lunch

After the climb we did a little shopping and went to lunch. Then came the fun descent back to the valley. Neither of us ripped it. We stopped at a few locations for photos and just to admire the view.

Barry climbing Alpe d’Huez

Col du Tourmalet (to the summit this year); Picture with the Devil; What the hell (I can say that), a second picture with the Devil; A TdF Route directional sign; Mont Ventoux; and now Alpe d’Huez. If I do nothing more in France, I will still be very happy.

EDIT – “Unless you’ve actually ridden up this climb on a bike you don’t realize how horrendous it is. It never gives up. It is relentless. And once you even get to the little town halfway up, the town Huez, it still goes up. What really smacks you in the face once you look up – you can see the chalets above us and say ‘Oh my goodness me do I have to go up there?'” – Paul Sherwen, July 25, 2015, NBCSN

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Thor de France

LOURDES, FRANCE

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

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Tourmalet 2011

ST. LARY-SOULAN, FRANCE

The route for Stage 12 today would be similar to last year’s stage over the Tourmalet. That happened to be my first time watching le Tour and we looked forward to climbing the Tourmalet. In contrast to today’s chilly or cold weather, last year was a bright and sunny day. When we reached our viewing location in La Mongie, a ski village about four kilometers short of the summit, we were told no more cyclists were being permitted to go through to the top.

Hourquette d’Ancizan

While it was disappointing not to make the climb to the top, we did have a great viewing location with lunch while we waited for the Tour. I have no estimate of the crowds of this year versus last year. The weather today wasn’t nearly as nice but it is also Bastille Day.

Last year I was with Trek Travel with a specific destination including departure time. This year I was riding solo, actually double, as I met up with Adrian Register in St. Lary. Adrian and I had planned out a full day of riding and viewing. We would leave St. Lary then head over the Tourmalet to Luz Ardiden to watch the finish of the stage. It was more than 50 miles one-way so we would have a century ride ahead of us.

Beware the barbed wire

We would be leaving early enough to beat any road closures so this time I would be able to ride up the Tourmalet. Unlike last year when the Tour went over the Col d’Aspin the peloton would go over a ridge parallel to it called the Hourquette d’Ancizan. The Hourquette is a less traveled road, very narrow, compared to the main road that went over the Aspin. Both roads get you over the mountain. 

Hourquette

We began the climb of the Hourquette. It appeared to have been recently repaved for the Tour. It wasn’t a smooth asphalt but clearly was new pave. Main roads have markings on either side at the edge and a center line. Narrow back roads have only the markings on either side. “Really back roads” don’t have any markings. The Hourquette had no markings.

Adrian at the Hourquette

Adrian and I started early, shortly after 7:00 a.m. so we could get over the Tourmalet before it closed to all traffic. While we had ridden to La Mongie, I never reached the summit and never felt comfortable telling people I had cycled up the Tourmalet. I hadn’t. Nor could I buy one of those Tourmalet jerseys. I mean I could but I wouldn’t feel right about it.

Cow

At the summit of the Hourquette four cars pulled over to allow an oncoming car to pass. When they did, a car beside me pulled sharply to the right – right where I was precariously perched on the side of the road with a sizable drop and no guard rail. I held onto the car, even grabbing the mirror to steady myself. I heard the passenger yell at the driver. No harm.

Adrian being chastised on my behalf, I think
But it was in French

It was a very nice 10km (six miles) descent down the Hourquette. At the end of the descent we stopped as some free ranging cattle were moving. Apparently, they get frightened if you look at them, a challenge I suppose, and I took their picture. Oh oh. They went stampeding by but did not charge us. The Gendarmes were not amused. But then again, they never are.

Didi painting the road

We had another four miles of descending to the Village of the Creepy Dolls (St. Marie-Campon). Then the climb began. The ascent of the Tourmalet went slower than I remembered. And was more difficult. At the end of the second snow shed I told Adrian I had to stop. There, painting on the road, was the Devil! I had to get this once in a lifetime opportunity.

Posing with the Devil

Only a few hundred meters after the Devil encounter, I spotted the Trek Travel tent on top of the restaurant in La Mongie. It was the restaurant “we” ate at last year. Adrian had jumped in our group and Marquette, our wonderful Trek Travel guide, made sure he could join us. I told Adrian that I wanted to stop. At the tent, I fit right in wearing my Trek Travel jersey. One of the guides, Shaun, even offered to take and store my (Trek) bike. 

Shaun, from Trek Travel

I laughed. I told them who I was, that I had been on the trip last year, and was just stopping for water for my bottles. Then filled it with energy mix. And ate three bananas. And took some energy bars. I was good to go. This Trek Travel stop was my oasis in the desert.

Trek Travel. Sorry I didn’t get your name.

I’m not sure if the last four km were steeper than the rest of the climb or if it was the cumulative effect of climbing but I was suffering. I cramped when I got out of the saddle and Adrian rode ahead. When I reached the summit I could barely get off the bike.

Barry – with proof that I made it to the summit of the Tourmalet

We both had to dismount and walk through the crowd of cyclists that had already gathered at the summit. After a few minutes and some photo taking, we mounted and headed down the other side of the Tourmalet on our way to Luz Ardiden.

I stopped after about 500 meters. Something didn’t feel right and was making a sound. I discovered that my rear wheel had been rubbing on my brake. Crap. No wonder it was so hard getting up the mountain. My brakes were on!

Llamas

I opened the brakes to stop the rubbing and we only went another couple of kilometers before stopping and watching a herd of llamas go by. After a discussion of the amount of time it would take to return from Luz Ardiden, we decided to return to the top of Tourmalet and watch the Tour from there.

View looking towards Lourdes

We froze. We were perhaps the only people on the summit without jackets. And it was cold. We were woefully underdressed if not dangerously underdressed. The barriers were in place for the last 70 meters to keep the crowds back and designate the King of the Mountain points. Between the barrier and a stone wall which was about 1.5 meters high we squeezed in with our bikes and at times, crouched down to let the barricades block the wind. It was a perfect viewing location. And it blocked the wind.

Restaurant at the summit of the Tourmalet

But then – the Gendarmes. One came over and told us we couldn’t be behind the barriers that were erected for keeping people behind the barriers. We ended up sitting on the wall.

Adrian at the Tourmalet

A great tradition of the Tour de France is the publicity caravan. It is a parade at the speed of the Tour. One of the vehicles in the caravan was advertising Vittel water. Their float was a giant water bottle with a person sitting on it with a long sprayer in hand. On hot days it is great to spray the crown but today was cold. Everyone, except Adrian and me, were bundled up and did not want to get wet. I really thought that common sense may prevail but he looked at the small crowd and sprayed us. Jerk.

The Caravan

As the people on the floats in the caravan threw items, two young French girls jumped down between the wall and the barrier to pick up some of the items that had been thrown. Watching them, we reasoned once the Tour came by, if we jumped down behind the barrier the Gendarmes couldn’t reach us to make us move. And as the first riders came up the climb, we moved back in behind the barrier. Best spot in the house.

Our viewing location – between the barriers and the wall But on the other side of the road

I understand that a number of my friends saw me on the television broadcast that day. I did not. But I was there in person. Shivering.

Adrian

One of the floats in the caravan was the L’Equipe newspaper. As they threw papers I grabbed two even though I could not read French. As the race came over the top I handed a newspaper to Stuart O’Grady. Pretty cool that he took it and put it in his jersey. Actually I held out a newspaper for anyone to grab and it was Stu who grabbed it. And I saved a paper for my descent too. It helps.

Frank Schleck

Once the road was reopened after the Tour went by, we first descended to La Mongie and stopped again at the Trek Travel location. There I borrowed a spoke tool and tightened up a loose spoke which helped greatly. The wheel wasn’t true, but much better than it was. At Shaun’s insistence, I kept the tool and promised to return it to Trek Travel in the Alps.

José Joaquim Rojas

On the way home we decided to take the Col d’Aspin instead of the Horquette. Adrian says it was easier from this side but I’m not so sure about that. 

Col d’Aspin

On the day it was cold, wet, and miserable, but sure full of memories.

The view from Col d’Aspin

As I came into St. Lary at the end of the day, I found a pizza shop.

American Pizza – Pizza with French Fries

Race Notes: First the last four kilometers of the Tourmalet were about the same as the rest of the climb. My suffering was the cumulative effects of the entire climb.

Source: ProCyclingStats.com
Source: ProCyclingStats.com
Source: ProCyclingStats.com

The Devil’s real name is Didi Senft.

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Going Back to France

WOODBRIDGE, VIRGINIA

It’s a cold and rainy day with temperatures in the high 40s (9 C). Not much better I can do than to plan my trip to France.

When I left France last year I always knew I would return someday – I just didn’t know it would be this year. Initially, I planned to return to Saint-Lary-Soulan in the Pyrenees and meet Adrian Register, who rode with us (our Trek Travel group) our first day last year.

As I am planning this trip it has become obvious that you cant’ get there from here. “There” being Saint-Lary and “here” being Toulouse. No public transportation so I will rent a car.

But the car will also free me to do more riding. Last year we rode the Col d’ Peyersourde and rode the brakes down the entire time, unable to see more than 50 meters in front of us, and not willing to go faster because of the cold and keeping in mind the roads were dangerously wet too.

Peyresourde on a nice day 
(Credit: www.cycling-challenge.com)

I don’t have any of my own pictures from the Peyresourde from last year other than the obligatory photo taken at the top of the peak.

 Peyresourde on a not-so-nice day

It was very cold descending and we could not determine whether the curves ahead were sweeping bends or hairpin killers. We rode slowly on the descent. I would love to ride the Peyresourde again, this time bombing the descent. But I’m not sure that I will.

Last year I was with a group which had an itinerary and always intersected with the Tour de France. This year I won’t be chasing the Tour and will have more time to focus on riding.

IMHO, there aren’t three more famous climbs in the Tour than the Tourmalet, Mont Ventoux, and Alpe d’Huez. Only once, in 1994, have all three been used in the same Tour.
And I will do all three.

Part of me wants to repeat each and every climb from last year but part of me says to keep those memories and create new ones on new climbs. And so I am planning Superbagnères instead of Pla d’Adet. A different approach over the Col d’Aspin. But the Tourmalet remains. And to the summit this year!

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Pauillac

PAUILLAC, FRANCE

At 6:00 p.m. this evening I rode with 100 other cyclists from Pauillac to a spot in the countryside. This time I wore shorts and carried two backpacks. The distance was only three miles (five km) but traffic was completely backed up. We learned to ride like the French. Simply ride into the left lane and when oncoming traffic approached maneuver very carefully back close to the yellow line.

Nancy and Ed

I went to my bike and removed my pedals, seat, and Garmin mount. I am sorry to see our riding end. For the six days of riding, I rode 300 miles and climbed more than 29,000 feet. I rode more on Wednesday than anyone in our group and today our group of eight went “exploring” (i.e., had a hard time following the Trek Travel directions) and we ended up with even more miles. Plus when I arrived at the viewing location I turned around and went riding on my own. I know I rode more miles than any of the 25 people in our group this week. On the bike is the one time I feel good.

Au revoir my French kids

We left this morning from Bordeaux with one of the Trek Travel guides, Stephanie, to ride to Pauillac. When we came to the Tour route at Avenson we were required to dismount and walk across the road. On the other side, we waited as the Tour caravan was coming by. This time I was in an excellent position to grab the swag they were throwing. I scooped up three polka-dot caps and saw some young kids. I ended up giving all three caps to the kids. To a child in France, they LOVE getting something from the Tour.

Riding in the countrside

Candy. Gave it to the kids. Key chains. Gave them to the kids. The green foam fingers. Gave to the kids. In turn, their mother taught them to say “thank you very much” to their new Santa Claus. I only kept laundry detergent (true) and the L’Equipe newspaper.

Trek Travel viewing in Pauillac. Credit: Trek Travel

We arrived at the Trek location which was the amazing Chateau Pichon.

Chateau Pichon

Lunch was downstairs through the wine cellars. Both lunch and the location were awesome.

Our viewing location was right on the course and we could cheer and photograph each rider as they came by. Since I kept the newspaper, I was the only one in our group that had the list of riders in order as they were coming, unless they had been passed by the rider behind them. It was my job to call out the rider coming next.

Lance Armstrong. Credit: Trek Travel

The most memorable moment was sitting and trying to talk with the locals. Just like soccer parents, they brought their chairs and sat next to the course. They remained seated until Lance Armstrong was coming. Then everybody stood. They truly wanted to see this great champion of their tour. Don’t tell me the French (people) don’t love Lance. They do.

George Hincapie. Credit: Trek Travel

It was well-known this was Lance’s last Tour de France. He had come out of retirement last year and finished third. Bad luck, among other things, had caught up to him and he was well down in the standings (23rd). This would be the last time France would see the Texan.

The roadside locals stood for Lance. It was the only time they stood. They did not for the Yellow Jersey (Alberto Contador) or for second place (Andy Schleck). Only Lance.

L-R Standing: Rich McCrea, Donna Thackrey, French Guy Tom Michaud, Debbie Michaud. On Wall: Dave Thackrey, Mike Bandemer, David Eenigenberg.

Tomorrow I will board an early private train ride to Paris to see the final stage of the Tour de France and to meet Ashley in Paris.

EDIT/EPILOGUE – Fabian Cancellara won the Individual Time Trial (Stage 19). Alberto Contador won the 2010 Tour de France but was stripped of the title in 2012 because he failed a doping test. He blamed tainted Spanish beef for his positive test. Andy Schleck was named the winner of the 2010 TdF.

Source: Procyclingstats.com
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A Flat Run to Bordeaux

BOURDEAUX, FRANCE

Lourdes – Budos (motorcoach)
Budos – Bordeaux (bike)

Our bus was one hour late this morning so we had time to check out Lourdes. I don’t think I will be coming back here soon. (And am not posting any pictures either…)

We had an uneventful ride to the village of Budos where we ate a picnic lunch before our ride through the vineyards to Bordeaux. All week we rode in a large group or smaller ones and the couples stayed together. Today the men and women formed separate groups. We had 15 guys trying their best to organize a pace line — that’s what I get for starting it.

Barry in Budos, France

While we all were self-identified “avid” cyclists for signing up for this event, we had different abilities and levels of experience and it took 15 miles to sort it out. One inexperienced but strong rider would move to the front and then pick up the pace which would blow the line.

King of the Mountain – La Brede, France

Another rider would alternately pedal furiously and then coast, near the back, which would send the end of the line yo-yo-ing. It was very tough to follow his wheel.

James, Rich

I moved to the front as we reached the town of La Brede and saw the last “King of the Mountain” opportunity for our group. I picked up the pace and then attacked while announcing “KOM Points!” It so happened that our guide, Big Wave Dave, was at the top of the hill and I was caught way off the front and blew the peloton to pieces. It was great! (Credit Dave with these photos.)

Dave, Paul

It wasn’t until we left La Brede that we had four of us in a nice relaxing line each taking 20-second pulls. Dennis, Tom, Peter, and I formed a nice team.

We had a fifth rider join us, Paul, who immediately went to the front and tried to do all the work himself. He apparently was oblivious that while he was working up front, we continued our 20-second pulls, sometimes letting him get 20-30 meters out in front while other times we passed him effortlessly. And we laughed the entire way to Bordeaux. (Sorry Paul)

We rode into Bordeaux, checked into the hotel, then went out on the course to watch the finish. The actual finish line was impossible to get near to be able to see (4-5 people deep) but we could stand there and watch the big screen. Instead, Peter and I chose to go to the end of the finishing chute to see riders come by after the race and go to their team buses. Mark Cavendish won the stage. And I got some good pictures including what will be probably my last photo of Lance Armstrong.

Lance Armstrong handing his water bottle to a young fan

Dinner was at the L’Orleans restaurant. I had duck. It was very good and will probably be the last time I ever eat duck. Our evening was a group meal but one of our riders, Susan, missed it. Instead, she ended up meeting up with Robbie Ventura and Frankie Andreau and eating with them. I think she won the night.

Duck, duck, goose. (Kidding – just duck)

Tomorrow will be the Individual Time Trial and our last day of riding. I am sad to see that end but also just finished chatting with Ashley, who will be flying out tomorrow to Paris where she will join me in the City of Lights on Sunday. One exciting week is drawing to a close while another is still ahead.

EPILOGUE: Actually, it would not be the last photograph I took of Lance nor the last time I would have duck on this trip. And nor would it be the last time I would visit Lourdes.

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Col du Tourmalet

LOURDES, FRANCE

Stage 17 – Pau to Col du Tourmalet (174 km)

We were up at 5:00 a.m. for a bus ride to Argeles-Gazost. It was 80 km (50 miles) from St. Lary and would take about one and a half hours. We had to move out early for the opportunity to bike to the summit finish at the Col du Tourmalet. We heard the crowds were large and the Gendarmerie were going to close the summit by 11:00 a.m. (for a 5:00 p.m. finish). People have been camping at the summit for a week before the Tour for the opportunity to see the Tour pass on Tuesday and finish there today. There simply was not room for more people at the top.

We did not have breakfast at the hotel. Instead, our guides were able to get an assortment of breakfast breads and pastries for the bus. They never made it to my seat. No breakfast for me.

On Tuesday’s ride, we reached our viewing location at LaMongie too late to be permitted to ride to the summit. Instead, we were four kilometers short. Today would be the approach from the other side but we had to be on the road early.

Riding in the rain

We got our bikes and waited patiently in line at the Carrefour supermarket to use their one toilet. There were two Trek Travel groups on our bus so we had almost 60 riders to go up the mountain. And 50 wanted to use the bathroom. I was in the last group of 10 or so to roll out and we were already 15-20 minutes behind the other riders.

Donna Thackery waiting to roll out

We headed out in a heavy thunderstorm with lightning all around. Rain was coming down hard and we rode through streets with 6″ or more of standing water. I’ve never been more soaked on a bike — which is simply to say completely soaked.

Note: Because it was raining so hard during the day, it was not a day to risk camera damage by taking lots of pictures.

Raining hard in Lourdes

Our guide, Greg, took us to a bike path that looked remarkably similar to the Washington & Old Dominion rail trail in Virginia. It clearly was a former rail line with long straight flat sections along the Gavedepau River. We left the town and got on a road with a slight incline that ran along the river. The river was running high and very powerful due to the storms of the past couple of days — and the one we were riding in.

Along the trail, I had dropped to the back simply to sweep the group. But as the road tilted up slightly I started passing our riders and bunches of riders whom I did not recognize. The road was two lanes but still with wide shoulders as it followed the river.

Alongside the river. Notice the chalk/paint on the road.

We turned off the river road and onto a road where the climb began. It was 18.5 km to the summit of the Tourmalet. We went through the little town of Luz-Saint-Sauveur and it was, at times, difficult to maneuver through the people walking in front of us. But once out of the village it was good riding.

The route was lined with campers, cars, and tents. Even though it was 9:00 a.m., cold and raining, some people would stand and clap as we rode by, others shout “Allez! Allez!” All were voices of encouragement. I think.

Ski lift on Tourmalet

My preconceived notion was that I would come to France and ride up the Tourmalet while thousands of drunken Frenchmen would hurl insults at us. Nothing could be further from the truth. Well, they may have been drinking, a lot, but all were very respectful of anyone on a bike. Especially, climbing on a bike.

(Actually, I would meet drunken fans but they usually weren’t French. They come from other countries in Europe and often wear orange, if you know what I mean. 😉

On the Tourmalet

France has a culture of cycling. One sees couples in their 70s and 80s biking — without helmets, of course. But I have ridden more than 200 miles here, much of it climbing mountains, and have been passed by hundreds of cars. Not one person has yelled at me. Zero. I have ridden by plenty of HUGE dogs and not one had barked, growled, or chased. Even the dogs like cyclists here.

Trek Village

On Tuesday we had a restaurant in LaMongie which was four km from the summit on the east side of the Tourmalet. I thought we were going to a restaurant today as well. I would be wrong.

Bikes parked at the Trek tent

For a while, I rode with a young man from Norway until we separated.  Then I fell into a Trek group with Scott from Rochester, NY, and Bobbie Jo from Oakland. The three of us chatted while we climbed and it seemed in no time we were at our Trek Travel Tent/viewing area. It wasn’t a restaurant but a tent. A big tent, but still a tent.

Trek Travel Tent viewing location

We were at kilometer 8.5 and I wanted to continue to the summit. Even though it was cold, raining, and generally miserable, I viewed this as a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Besides, going up was actually easy. I was generating enough body heat to keep warm.

Inside the Trek Travel tent

I climbed through a number of switchbacks all still lined with campers. There was an exceptional presence of Basque people who came from just over the border in Spain although there are French Basque as well.

A very proud young Basque fan

I reached the 4km to the summit sign and the road was barricaded. No one was being permitted through. Some cyclists tried to scale a hill nearby with their bikes and it was comical to see the hill win as they would fall and slide back down the muddy hill. One reached the road only to be turned away by the Gendarmerie.

Passing the cars and campers was not much different than walking through the parking lot at any NFL or soccer game. It was Tour de France tailgating and the aroma of the grills was great.

I know there are cheaper trips. But today I was glad I was with Trek Travel. After passing the Trek tents and wanting to ride as far as I could until being turned away, I rode with a man from New Hampshire.

Me: “Where are you from?”

Him: “New Hampshire”

Me: “Mount Washington is much tougher than this”

Him: “You have ridden up Mount Washington?”

Me: “Yes”

Him: “I’ve done the running race 11 times but would never try to bike up it.”

He told me he was with another tour company. They would be biking to their hotel on the other side of the mountain after the race. He had a rain jacket but we were soaked. And with the summit already closed, the poor guy had nowhere to get in out of the cold and rain for the next 5-6 hours.

I turned around and descended back to the tent area. It was dry as I began my descent but I could also see in the distance this beautiful cloud in the valley. It was rain. Cold rain. And I had to ride through it.

Cozy warm, I guess

At the “Trek Village” there were three smaller square tents. One contained our travel tote bags we had sent up ahead with our van, one was a women’s changing tent, and one was for men. I walked into the changing tent and there were wet cycling kits hanging anywhere one could fashion a hanger but mostly on the support poles of the tent. I changed into my dry clothes for the day then went inside the large reception tent and sat down with a bunch of people I never met before.

Three of Lance’s Radio Shack teammates – Pick three: Andreas Kloden (Ger), Janez Brajkovic (Slo), Sergio Paulihno (Por) Yaroslav Popovych (Ukr), Gregory Rast (Swi), Dmitry Muravyev (Kaz)

There were 10 travel groups with Trek Travel doing the last week of the tour and this was the first of three locations we would converge. The other two are at the time trial in Bordeaux and the finish in Paris. Here I sat with Chris Fusco and Lori Rackl from Chicago. Lori is on the “trip of a lifetime” but is also writing a story about it for the Chicago Sun-Times.

Lori wanted to interview some people from the Chicago area and I stood up and rang my cowbell. People became silent and I simply called for Hollie Eenigenburg. Hollie and her husband, Dave, own the Trek bike store in Schererville, Indiana. So Lori did an interview with Hollie with me interrupting occasionally. And then she interviewed Paul Sommer, another rider from Indiana.

Lori interviewing Paul

Throughout the day the rain came down hard. There was no heat in the tent other than what 250 people will create. Some riders still had wet clothes on or sent only a short sleeve shirt in their bag. They were in trouble.

The Tour would come by on the upper road and we had to scale the hill to get up there

A few times, the sun came out, and large cheers erupted. But rarely did the sun shine for more than five minutes. But people moved their wet clothes from inside the changing tent to hang them on whatever fences they could find only to be poured on again.

Part of the grupetto

We were served dinner inside the tent and they had four large flat-screen monitors where we could watch the riders until they were ready to go by us. Or we could stay in the tent and be dry. To watch meant to go outside and scale a 20-meter steep hillside.

The caravan came by and I climbed the steep hill. I felt silly wearing my referee/Ultimate Frisbee turf shoes on Tuesday while everyone else had tennis shoes or flip flops. Today, I was the envy of everyone who slipped and fell on the hill trying to get up to the main road.

Two roads – the one on the left is the Tour route – the one on the right is just for parking and access

We had front row viewing to Andy Schelck and Alberto Contador going past, trailed not by much by Lance Armstrong. A number of the group then ran back to the tent to watch the finish on TV. I elected to stay in my position and cheer on every last rider making the climb. I waited for the grupetto. I can always watch the tour on TV. How often can I see these guys in person?

Alberto Contador (l) and Andy Schleck (r)
(Credit – Pretty sure this came from our Trek Travel website as did any good quality race photos)

The descent afterward was wild. There were literally miles of cars stopped trying to go back down the mountain. Only bikes could fly down the mountain because we used the incoming lane. It was downhill all the way until we reached a bike trail and then we rode 18 km to Lourdes where we would check in for the night.

My blurry shot of Lance Armstrong

Lourdes is an interesting city. Think Gatlinburg, Tennessee, or Niagara Falls, Ontario. Or maybe Ocean City, Maryland. It’s been referred to as “where the Vatican meets Vegas.” People come here to be healed or buy healing stuff, I guess. There are more hotels per capita than any place in France. People are wheeled down the streets. In the middle of town, they even have their own wheelchair lanes. There are lots of people limping. And of course, they’re all smoking.

Andy Schleck

Most moving moment of the day: On the run-up to the climb seeing mile after mile of LIVESTRONG messages painted on the road. Everyone remembers or honors someone with cancer and I’m sure thousands more messages got submitted but not painted. I was choked up and pulled over to gather myself. I hate cancer.

This would be a day that I was reminded that while I am a survivor, cancer will always be in my life. I have good days and bad, mostly good, but the Tourmalet was a reminder that one does not beat cancer without losing part of yourself to cancer. It was a bad day and I will never be normal again. It was part of the reason I elected to stay outside in the cold rain to watch the Tour go by.

A bad day at the Tour


 
UPDATE: It was only after returning home, on August 9, 2010, that I received a message from LIVESTRONG that my message of hope had been one selected to be painted on the road. I don’t know if it was one of the ones I rode across on this day or not.

Source: procyclingstats.com

Andy Schleck beat Alberto Contador in a two-up sprint for the win. The pros raced 108 miles and climbed 15,381 feet.

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Lost on our way to Luchon

ST. LARY-SOULON, FRANCE

We woke up to a chilly overcast day. A pretty loud thunderstorm visited in the middle of the night and the low cloud cover was here to stay. Our Trek Travel group met and discussed riding options for the day. At breakfast, a number of people were already discussing taking a day off from riding. And why not? Because the Tour de France is having a rest day there was no viewing location to bike to.

The view from the Col d’Azet

I am one-dimensional. I am here to ride. But not everyone was. For some, it was a vacation and the riding was cool but it wasn’t everything. We were in a neat small town in the French Pyrenees and some wanted to stay behind and enjoy the town.

Why not take a day off the bike? Because of this. Going up the Azet out of St. Lary.

We could climb the Col d’ Azet and Col d’ Peyresourde, eat lunch in Luchon, then return over the Peyresourde. Or skip the Azet and take a valley road leading right to the Peyresourde so only one climb would be needed. Trek Travel would shuttle people back from Luchon if you wanted to ride one way.

View riding up the Col d’Azet

We discussed our options. Some were staying back at the hotel and visiting St. Lary to go shopping. Some were staying back but riding locally. Some were going out to the Peyresourde to Luchon. And only a handful, perhaps five, were going to the entire route. Yea, that would be me.

M bike for the week – Col d’Azet

Because groups formed in the parking lot and I was unsure who was in which group, I just sort of jumped in and started asking where they were going. I joined Rich McCrea and James Hartzberg and we went flying down the road to Arreau. We had gone the wrong direction.

By the time we realized we weren’t supposed to be following the other groups, that they were skipping the Azet, we had to turn around and go back to St. Lary to start our climb from there. These are called bonus miles. I love them! We added 14 bonus miles returning to St. Lary before beginning the climb up the Azet.

Clouds on the Azet

The mountains had a low cloud cover. The climb up the Col d’ Azet was almost seven miles. We went through a couple old and small villages past farms. We passed some big dogs and no dog yet has shown us any attention. No barking. No growling. No chasing.

Climbing the Azet

At the summit, the cover moved rapidly. When I arrived it was covered and I could barely see the sign at the summit 25 meters away. In seconds the entire mountain had cleared. And just as quickly, it disappeared again.

Rich McCrea and James Hartzbger. Stopped for a photo op and remounting.

The top of the Azet is a pastoral grazing area and being France, I’m not sure if that means a number of monks are walking around or — yes, judging from the number of cow patties — it is a free-roaming area for cattle. We had to stop and pass carefully by two huge cows on our descent off Azet.

Cows at the summit of the Azet

The descent, while obviously steep, was pretty cold. For each climb, it was strip down to as little as possible, sweat your ass off, even though the temperature was around 15°C (59° F), and then stop at the summit to put on as much clothing as possible before the descent. And then freeze.

At the bottom of the descent, one comes to Loudenville. We went around a pretty lake and made our way over to the base of the climb of the Peyresourde. This climb was used yesterday in the Tour de France. It was hot, while cold, ascending. At the top was the Trek Travel van where I pulled over to refill my two bottles — both empty. I ate some pretzels, some energy bars, and found the super-secret stash of Snickers. Mmm, Snickers.

Actually, the van had been at the top of Azet earlier but because of our bonus miles, we had missed it. But not now.

Barry at the Col d’Azet

One of our riders had already decided to ride in the van and he lent his rain slicker to James for the descent. James had only a jersey and arm warmers. I had a jacket with removable sleeves which made it a vest. It rocked.

Dave Thackrey, Donna Thackrey, Peter Pellicano

The descent off the Peyresourde to Luchon would have been great in good weather conditions. But the cloud cover was so thick we were getting soaked descending and were on the verge of hypothermia. This side of the mountain had straight roads but visibility was so bad, plus the roads were wet, one could not let go of the brakes. It was a shame. When you could see the line in the road change slightly you weren’t sure if it was merely a subtle change in the road or a nasty 180° hairpin curve. And I have yet to see a single sign in the Pyrenees warning of a curve ahead and a recommended safe speed to use.

Luchon – Our group ate at the restaurant on the right

We reached Luchon about the time most of our group was getting ready to roll out. They had just finished a big lunch and some had already called it quits for the day. The van was taking them back. I met our tour guide, Nicole Kimborowicz, plus Matt McDonald and Peter Pellicano who were going back over the Peyresourde. I didn’t want to abandon Rich and James but Rich had basically declared that, after lunch, he was taking a shuttle and James was unsure.

Rich and James at Loudenvielle

I didn’t want to eat lunch and then have no one to bike back with and I was riding back. And I was afraid sitting outside I would get too cold.

View from the village of Azet

So I skipped lunch and jumped in with the Nicole group. That was an excellent idea. The worst thing I could have done was to sit down, get something heavy in my stomach, get cold in my wet clothes, stiffen up, and then attack the Peyresourde — the same HC climb the Tour used yesterday.

Villag of Azet

The same recipe followed — climb the Peyresourde, put on as many warm clothes for the descent, then let ‘er rip. Although not let it go too fast. It was just yesterday off the descent of the Peyresourde that Jens Voigt had his front tire blow out and he crashed hard.

Nicole and I rode together while Matt and Peter flew up the mountain. Nicole probably wanted to go with them but was a good trooper and stayed with me.

After our safe descent of the Peyresourde, my group didn’t want to return the route we came — that is, up and over the Azet again. So we took the valley road back to Arreau and St. Lary. On our way into St. Lary, I went ahead solo through town and climbed partially back up the Azet to take pictures.

St. Lary-Soulan, Fr.

I finished the day with the most miles (74) and vertical feet of climbing (9600) of anyone in the group today. It was a great day on the bike.

Our guide – Nicole

DISTANCE: 73.8 miles
ALTITUDE GAIN: 10,502′

CLIMB DIFFICULTY

PJAMM – Col d’Azet
PJAMM – Peyresourde. We turned onto the climb in Loudenvielle
PJAMM = Peyresourde from Luchon
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