This was a rest day so we would only ride 28 miles. Tell that to your friends who can’t imagine riding 28 miles – on our rest day that’s what we did. And it was easy.
Fränk Schleck, Barry Sherry, Andy Schleck
Fränk Schleck met us in the morning at the bike room at the hotel. Once we were ready, his brother, Andy, the 2010 Tour de France winner, showed up to lead the ride. Like Fränk, he also lives in Mondorf-les-Bains. Can’t lead the ride? Have your little brother, the TdF champion, fill in.
I did not plan on being at the front of our group as we rolled out from Mondorf but found myself there with Andy Schleck. I was at the front for two kilometers until I moved over to give someone else a chance to chat.
Andy asked me how I liked Luxembourg. I loved it I told him and that Frank undersells it. He agreed. It is a beautiful country. Andy asked where I was from and then added he gets to the States a lot, mostly California.
A TdF champion serving espresso. Jambo on the left.
We rolled to his bike shop. It is very clean (Frank says “too clean”). There is a cafe in the back and the former TdF champion was making and serving espresso for those who wanted some.
The shop could have been any American bike shop. That is any clean American bike shop. Andy is a Trek dealer, along with other brands. Shimano, Camelbak, and Bontrager products are on the shelves as are Cliff Bars and Power Bars.
But there is one difference. There is a lot of memorabilia from Andy’s career and also from some of his teammates.
I have a lion
We had decided as a group to add another 4 km, uphill, to our ride. The Luxembourg American Cemetery was only 2.4 miles away. It was very moving. General George S. Patton is buried here. We presumed to be buried with his troops.
Only 39% of the original soldiers that were buried here remain. The other 61% have been repatriated and are buried on American soil in the U.S. And here the rain came, but only for a short time.
When we left we were in rain but by the time we got back to Andy’s shop (retracing our route) it was dry. Although it looked like we would be in rain for a while, this was the only time we were in rain and it lasted no more than 10 minutes, It was a very moving and very meaningful day.
EDIT/EPILOGUE – This post was originally titled “Team Andy” because when you get to ride with a Tour de France winner (2010), why not? But from a week of riding in Luxembourg and four other countries, our visit to the Luxembourg American Cemetery was among my best memories. After moving hosting for this site and losing some post which had to be restored manually, the name Luxembourg American Cemetery just resonated. Almost forgot that I rode with a Tour de France champion that day. Sorry Andy. 🙂
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.
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 am sure 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 am sure 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.
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.
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.
Lance Armstrong
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.
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.
We were up at 5:00 a.m. for the 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.
On Tuesday’s ride, we reached our viewing location at LaMongie too late to be allowed 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 thousand 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.
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 area, and one was for men. I walked into the changing area 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 and went inside the large reception tent and sat down with a bunch of people I never met before.
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.
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.
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)
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 the bike path 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 their wheelchairs, except in the middle of town where they have their own wheelchair lanes. Lots of people limping. And of course, they’re all smoking.
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.
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.
Watch a Grand Tour like the Tour de France and you will see different types of riders based on their body sizes. Of course, there are exceptions to all of these but the “sprinters” tend to be bigger guys with big thighs. And they’re the most daring of all riders. If they can stay together with a stage at the end, one of them will come out of the pack to take it at the line.
The “time trialists” are great at riding at their own pace and this often favors some of the heavier riders who aren’t knocked around by the winds. Riding by oneself you have no protection from the wind.
The “climbers” tend to be smaller riders who always have the best power to weight ratios. The rider who will win a Grand Tour is someone who can do all these fairly well, but usually, the Tour de France is set up to favor climbers. Fabian Cancellara recently won the Tour of Flanders and Paris-Roubaix and may be the best cyclist in the world right now but won’t even be in the discussion to win the tour. Climbers like Alberto Contador, Andy and Fränk Schleck, and, of course, Lance Armstrong, get everyone’s attention.
I have a perfect body to excel at nothing. I’m too big to be a climber although the satisfaction is like none other. I wonder if, in my 20s, my sprinting ability off the bike would have translated to being on the bike? I will never know. I do know that two foot surgeries, one knee surgery, and age have robbed me of any sprinting ability I once had.
If I could pretend for a second, I guess my best discipline would be domestique – hanging back and carrying water to my team leader. And my dream would be not to win the Tour de France but to be the Lanterne Rouge.
Last week, Scott Scudamore posted a ride I called the Scud TT (time trial). He described it as only having 30 minutes so he went out hard and hammered home and tried to beat 18+ mph.
Since Scott and I ride together occasionally and he tells me that I am a much stronger rider than he is, I thought I could go do the same ride and smash his time. So on Thursday I rode to his house, stopped my bike, and then took off on his route to mirror his exact ride. My time was better — 19.3 vs. 18.5, but I was hoping for 20+.
I rode about as hard as I could for 25 minutes or so. 8.5 miles. For all his talk about being a stronger rider, I think it’s a bunch of hooey.
My legs were shot after this effort.
I stayed off the bike on Friday but did referee a high school varsity soccer match at night. And then, Saturday…
Our group ride was canceled so we did our own group ride. Except David Vito and his friend, Vince, showed up on time trial bikes. These bikes are fast. They’re equipped with aero bars for leaning out over the bike although they don’t handle quite as well as a regular road bike. And thus David and Vince suggested we ride the W&OD instead of our normal road route.
There were strong headwinds, 20-30 mph, and I did my best to hang on behind as we headed from Reston to Leesburg. Although Daniel Kalbacher took a pull, I had no pop in my legs on this day. We ultimately did 32 miles at a hard pace and I did one pull on the way back, with a tailwind, and was gone after that.
When I got home I jumped in the shower which eventually became slumping into a hot bath. And fell asleep. Then I moved to the bed where I slept. Then to the sofa. I ended up sleeping most of the time from 4:30 p.m. on Saturday until 2:30 p.m. on Sunday. Different locations, but still sleeping. I had a fever and headache along with an upset stomach.
Two days later the pop hasn’t returned. I am still sleepy. And this is eerily reminiscent of one year ago when I had those fevers which I thought would clear up on their own. They didn’t. Ultimately, in diagnosing an e.Coli infection they discovered cancer. And now I am left to wonder, what is it this time?
