Our last day, and our biggest day. The preparation for this ride started on Wednesday at our team meeting. Fränk Schleck stated that he was going to offer two rides: The planned 155 km four-country ride and a shorter (100 km) ride that would only be able to take in three countries.
To do a second ride, he would offer a guide, probably Glen Leven who is a mechanic for Trek-Segafredo, but no other support, i.e., no motorbikes. But he would need at least three volunteers.
Fränk asked us to think about what we were ready for after a week of riding. Two riders were consistently sagged throughout the week when we had time limits. I think Fränk was looking at those two as “volunteers.”
Even after the rest day, I wasn’t feeling much better. I was better but I wasn’t much better. The decision time was last night at the team meeting. I would love to go long and say I did a four-country ride but my body was telling me to volunteer for the shorter group. And I came to terms with that.
But then…
In walked Jens Voigt to our team meeting. “Shut up legs.” And Jens is going to ride with the long group. That conflicted me as I wanted to ride with Jens but wasn’t sure I could keep with the group. But that option was quickly off the table. Fränk announced there would only be one ride. Everyone would start but if he felt someone was holding back the team he would tell them to get in the van, no arguing, no discussion. Having that decision out of my hand, I had to go long.
We rolled out of Mondorf-les-Bains and a gap quickly developed back to the two riders. After 20 km (12 miles) just outside of Peppange we stopped as Fränk had gone back to help pace them. When they reached our group they stopped and got in the van.
My goal today was to finish. My strategy was simple. I thought I could stay with Jambo as we had ridden together quite a bit this week. We could form a grupetto of two if we had to as Fränk would not force Jambo, one of the organizers, off the course. But I didn’t have to resort to such a strategy.
Our first border was Belgium. We stopped at a non-descript border next to a farmhouse. The occupants were not thrilled we were there. They opened the door and their house smelled like a thousand ashtrays.
We rolled through a very scenic wooded section in Belgium, but only for 6.5 km (4 miles) and crossed back into Luxembourg. On another wooded scenic road, Fränk had us go from riding side by side (in twos) to one long paceline. And I was on Jens Voigt’s wheel. The speed ramped up as we kept this going for 10 km or more.
We stayed in Luxembourg and crossed the country, west to east, traveling 64 km (40 miles). We crossed the Moselle River at Wormeldange to enter Germany and pulled over just inside the border. Next to the river in Germany was a bike trail with lost of users on this Friday afternoon. As I was taking a photo a German man (or maybe a Luxembourger on the wrong side of the river) started speaking to me in German. I think. When he saw I didn’t comprehend he asked, “what language?” He switched to English.
“But why no German?”, he asked. “You’re wearing the Luxembourg colors. I told him we were riding with Fränk Schleck. And Jens Voigt.
“Jens Vote?”, he exclaimed. I told him to come over and meet them. He said no and kept riding.
We got on the bike path and hammered it for 19 km (12 miles). As we reached France, we stopped and one of our sagged riders joined us for the final push to home. Fränk made sure we rode at the pace of the slowest rider and we would finish the week riding together.
As for me, I pushed through and maybe I shouldn’t have. But I had to, no? I was fearful all day that Fränk would say “you’re holding us back,” and secretly wished he did, but he never came my way. Jens only passed me going up one climb because he was ahead of me on all the others. As crappy as I felt, I never was last on a climb or even second to last.
It was a challenging day. I was just hanging on at times. I was breaking the ride into five-mile segments, just trying to get to the next one. There were times I wanted to cry out “I’m done.” But I kept going. And ultimately, I ended the day with the satisfaction of completing the day, and the week, that I set out to do. At the team meeting, I was recognized for powering through and never quitting.
What a week it was. Riding with the Brothers Schleck and Jens Voigt. Separate days in Holland, Luxembourg, France, and Germany and a four-country ride that included Belgium.
My local cycling club, Potomac Pedalers Touring Club, has an award, which may be tongue in cheek, but it is called the Iron Crotch Award. This recognition goes to anyone who rides 5,000 miles in a year. And I qualified. Again.
TOTAL MILES: 6,350
LONGEST RIDE – Ride the Rockies – Pagosa Springs to Alamosa CO. 104.20 miles with a new max speed of 54 mph
% MILES COMMUTING — 0%. I retired but did ride on Bike to Work Day because it was fun.
% MILES PPTC RIDES — 0%. Although I did organize a Ride of Silence in honor of James Callahan and advertised it to PPTC as an Impromptu Ride that drew 40 riders. Those 13 miles count so 0.2%.
Date on which 5,000 was achieved – Sept. 29 at the Jeremiah Bishop Alpine Loop Gran Fondo
Most miles in a Month — 1,066 (June)
Most miles in a week — 579 – in Colorado, during Ride the Rockies
Number of Zero mile weeks – None
Number of 100 mile days – Six
Most interesting story – I was looking at the autograph table with Jens Voigt and Ben King at the Save a Limb Ride when someone grabbed my phone and said “jump in and I’ll take your picture.” That someone was former pro rider now TV commentator, Robbie Ventura.
It was a year in which I once rode 109 straight days (a “ride” being defined as one of at least 10 miles), including breaking my collarbone only 10 days into the streak. And I didn’t miss a ride. For the second straight year I went over 10,000 kilometers (6,200 miles). I finished with 6,350. But the year would end with incredible sadness.
In no particular order I present my Top Ten Moments of 2013
1. Meeting People on the Trail
I met two groups of young people while riding along the W&OD. In May I
met a lost group from the University of Illinois, the Illini 4,000. I rode
with them to Vienna before saying goodbye.
Riders from the Illini 4,000
In July I met a group of young Orthodox Jewish women biking from Miami to New York City
with Bike 4 Friendship. When they told me they were riding to Baltimore
on U.S. Rte 1 I told them I would take them on safe roads instead. I ended up giving them an impromptu tour of D.C. then taking them through the Anacostia Trail System up to Laurel, Maryland so they could
avoid Rte 1.
Some of the Bike 4 Friendship Riders
in Front of the White House
I never participated in a Ride of Silence before and don’t want to again but I organized one for a fallen cyclist, James Callahan,
who was struck and killed by a 17 year old girl while he was riding on
the bike path next to the road. I had never met Mr. Callahan but it
seemed the right thing to do. Almost 40 riders including his family
members joined us for a silent slow 13-mile ride that honored his
memory.
Stopped at the accident scene where
a bagpiper played Amazing Grace
Labor
Day weekend I joined friends from Spokes of Hope at Trexlertown, Pa. to
ride on the Velodrome as we honored pediatric cancer survivors. Our
featured survivor was Duncan Mitcheltree. As I entered the track his mother, Andrea, called my name. We had met last year at Jake’s funeral.
Barry, Duncan
4. Key to Keys
(Multiple Journal Entries)
In April I rode with the Ulman Cancer Fund for Young Adult’s inaugural Key to Keys
ride, a fundraiser from Baltimore to Key West. There’s nothing like the
community of survivors and people who hate cancer who come together
with a common cause. And when my group did not get a chance to ride across the
Seven Mile Bridge, on Sunday after the ride I did my own solo century ride
to and across the Seven Mile Bridge – twice.
My
dad had never ridden across the Salisbury trestle at Meyersdale so in
July my sister, Betsy, and I rode with the octogenarian from Meyersdale
to Rockwood.
I thought last year would be my last time up Mount Washington. Then I met the Gubinski family and they asked me to come back and ride with them so they would have someone to beat. And I complied. My sixth straight year on that climb.
Alexa, Barry, Vic, Lucas
7. 4K for Cancer
An organization that has become close to my heart is the 4K for Cancer.
I rode with Team San Francisco on Day 1 from Baltimore to Alexandria; met
Team Portland on the Pike to Bike abandoned Pennsylvania Turnpike on Day 2;
escorted them from Bedford to Ligonier on Day 3; and rode with them again in
Muncie, Indiana on Day 17.
Jeremiah
Bishop’s Alpine Gran Fondo is a beautiful ride and is sponsored by the Prostate Cancer Awareness Project. As a prostate cancer survivor I was
invited to ride off the front with pros, Jeremiah Bishop, Joe Dombrowski, Cameron Cogburn and Ben King.
Pros on the Start Line
9. Ride the Rockies
(Multiple Journal Entries)
Ride the Rockies is simply the best multi-day tour I have found. Awesome vistas with screaming descents – four times I went over 50 mph. I rode with six time Tour de France rider, Ron Kiefel, and met George Hincapie, Bob Roll, and Connie Carpenter-Phinney.
A man grabs my phone as I am looking at Jens Voigt and Ben King and says “jump in – I’ll take your picture.” And it was none other than Robbie Ventura. At the Save a Limb ride I met Jens, Ben, and Robbie. Too cool.
Jen Voigt, Barry, Ben King
Barry, Robbie Ventura
In Memory of Scott
In August, my friend, Scott Scudamore, invited
me to Charlottesville for a practice ride with some kids from the Boys and Girls Club. They were getting in training miles to ride a Century (100 miles) in September and he promised me we would ride up Afton Mountain which “you will really enjoy.”
When the assignments were given out Scott was very apologetic because he was asked to mentor the youngest
rider on a shorter route than the other kids. He encouraged me to go ride with the other kids up Afton Mountain. I chose to ride with Scott. He
didn’t quite understand it was more about who you were with than where
you were going. It was my last ride with Scott.
On September 22 he was mountain biking at Bryce Ski resort in Virginia when he crashed and broke his neck. Very sadly and unexpectedly, he died from those injuries
on December 29.
Barry, Eli, Scott
You taught me that life is short and to live every moment to the fullest
May you rest in peace, my friend.
The event was the Save a Limb Ride, a fundraiser for The Rubin Institute for Advanced Orthopedics which, I think, is primarily at Sinai Hospital in Baltimore. I left the house at 5:00 a.m. to get to the start line on time.
As I was leaving registration I saw Ben King and then Jens Voigt. I went to the car and got some Sharpies. I was wearing my Shut Up Legs t-shirt. I really haven’t been following Jens around the world for this moment. It just seemed that way.
In 2011, Adrian Register and I were at the team bus for Leopard-Trek in Saint Gaudens, France. Adrian had his Shut Up Legs t-shirt but when the team exited the bus they had to get to the starting line quickly. I’m not even sure if I owned my t-shirt at that point or if I bought it later.
Ducking back inside registration I asked Jens to sign my shirt. He willingly obliged. I was a happy camper. No matter what would happen on the day it would be a good day.
At 8:00 a.m. we gathered at the event start. The good doctor who was the emcee referred to Jens (pronounced Yens in his native German) as “Gens” (as in more than one girl named Jen). And said he was from East Germany. “I guess it’s all one big Germany, now.” I sort of giggled. Cyclists all cringed as the doctor mangled his name.
As we rolled out it was a cold 48℉. It was ard to believe it was summer just two weeks ago. Plus it was windy too.
The course was somewhat difficult. The event website warned: “Please be aware that our Metric Century ride is a difficult and challenging ride with 5,400 feet of climb.” Actually, for 60 miles, nearly 6,000′ of climb is a lot. Generally, anything more than 100 feet per mile is mountainous and this approached that. I hadn’t read the warning or maybe I would have used the small ring on my triple. I stayed in the 39-tooth middle ring on all the climbs.
I rode for a while with a guy from Fairfax Co. who wore a full FDJ kit. Remember Kentucky Fried Chicken? It was rebranded as KFC to avoid that awful word “fried.” This team was named FDJeux.com in 2003 and 2004, then renamed Française des Jeux, supposedly to avoid bad luck, until July 2010, when the name was simplified to its initials. (Source: Wikipedia)
I never got his name. He was perhaps 10 years younger and we seemed to match up in power and speed. Around Mile 30 it seemed on every climb, and there were lots of small ones, he dropped back. I always waited. I believe three times he asked me to ride ahead but I was comfortable shepherding him along.
andBut as we were “climbing” up around Prettyboy Reservoir we were joined by two guys who were methodically, but slowly, making their way up the climb. I stayed with them then soft-pedaled at the top but FDJ-guy never did rejoin me. Ever. Even at the end. I think I spent almost an hour at the festival. I never saw him again.
The route was through rolling country roads. The cues were painted on the road. On a group ride, I tend to follow: (1) people; (2) cues; or (3) maps, in that order. Early in the ride, we came to an intersection on a descent. Normally a four-way stop, it was missing the stop sign. Following the wheels of other riders, we flew through it and kept going. About a mile later I saw cyclists coming in the other direction. Another half mile I see 10-15 cyclists all looking at maps. Oh oh. Bonus miles!
The last 10 miles I was pretty much in “no man’s land”. I rarely saw anyone on the road up ahead and was not caught by anyone. I had to follow the cues. They were well-marked until the end. I was navigating by feel as I often didn’t think I was on the right course. But I made it.
Back at the finish I went to the festival. There, Jens, Ben King, and Robbie Ventura were signing autographs. I thought about getting them to sign my race bib but what would I do with it? Some had them autograph their event T-shirt, but again, why?
I was just looking at the autograph table with Jens and Ben and it was as though Robbie read my mind. Actually, he did one better because I never thought of posing with Jens and Ben. Robbie took my camera and told me to get in the picture with those two. After snapping a photo of us, a volunteer took a picture of Robbie and me.
Weighing heavy on my mind was the recent accident by my friend, Scott Scudamore. Hope and prayers were the best we could do and I wanted to deliver hope. I asked Jens and Ben to make short greeting videos wishing Scott well and they did.
Robbie’s take today on the course was that it was quite difficult. He said it is much easier to have two or three hard climbs and then flat, unlike this undulating course. “Anyone can ride 100 miles on flat” (uh, no they can’t), he said, “but you really have to be fit to ride a course like today’s.” He’s right. My legs feel it.
EPILOGUE/COMMENTS – I look back almost 10 years ago at this ride. The biggest thing that has changed is the course route directions. In 2013, the events printed cue sheets. Savvy riders, of which I was never one, even had a plastic holder on the front of their bike to slip in the turn-by-turn directions and/or course map. The event also painted arrows on the road or erected signs at the turns.
Today many, if not most, riders have bike computers that will show the turns on the bike’s head unit. I was one of the worst at following cue sheets. I put them in my pocket where the paper soon disintegrated due to sweat. I often told riders I would ride in the front position as long as they would tell me where to turn. Now, almost all events provide the course maps in electronic form so riders can upload those to their bike computers.
Lastly, that picture of Jens and Ben. Since that time I have been able to do rides with both riders. And my expectation is that I will ride with both guys again. — March 6, 2023
I saw a mountaintop pass of the Tour, I’ve been at the finish for another, and today would be a day to see a start stage. Stage 14 of the Tour de France is from Saint Gaudens to Plateau de Beille.
Adiran Register and I drove to St. Gaudens, parked, then used our bikes to try to find the team buses and sign-in. The streets were narrow and confusing but we eventually found a long line of buses. Much of the interior of the center city was blocked off for guests with private passes. VIPs.
We decided to hang out at the Leopard-Trek bus as Adrian Register has a “Shut Up Legs” t-shirt he tried to get autographed by Jens Voigt.
No one was coming out although a few people seemed to have good luck handing items to be sent in the R.V. and signed. By whom is the question.
Unlucky to get any autographs, once the riders departed for the stage start, we tried to get to the roll out. A number of “fans” saw Adrian in his full FDJ kit and wished him good luck. It was pretty cool that they thought he was a pro rider. No mistaking me for a pro rider though.
Tour de France Souvenirs
We missed the roll out, probably because we went in the opposite direction, but we followed the course for a few kilometers just stretching out our legs. Just as we were ready to turn back into town, I spotted it. A Tour route sign that had not been claimed.
I was not willing to take one down before they went by but this was on a signpost – right in front of two Gendarmes. I looked at Adrian and he looked an me and I knew I had my prized souvenir. Except we had nothing to remove it with. Adrian asked the Gendarmes if they had wire cutters. They didn’t. But removing a tool from my toolkit on my bike, and enough twisting and pulling, the wire holding it finally broke loose.
I now have one of the prized signs. Vive le Tour! *
After the stage we drove back to St. Lary-Soulan and I said goodbye to Adrian while meeting his grandparents. Cool thing: As we pulled Adrian’s bike out of the car his grandmother grabbed the loose rear wheel and put it right on the bike.
*UPDATE July 8, 2017 – Almost six years after acquiring my prized possession, I let it go. Rather than sit in a box in the basement, it deserves to be displayed.
I took it to Bicycles and Coffee bike shop (and coffee) in Purcellville where everyone can see the sign.
Nicole was so appreciative she gave me a copy of her book, Under the French Blue Sky.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
We began our day with a beautiful breakfast spread at the Mercure Sensoria de Saint-Lary-Soulan. Once fueled up for the day, we rolled out of the hotel for seven miles and then began an absolutely gorgeous climb up the Col d’ Aspin. It was quite chilly at the start here in the Pyrenees and many riders wore arm warmers and or jackets.
The excitement was great. Yesterday it was I can’t believe that I am (finally) riding in France. And today it’s we’re going to see an actual stage of the Tour de France. And, of course, ride in France. Climb a major mountain. Or two.
We rolled out as a group and stayed together for the first 10 km to the town of Arreau, where we started yesterday. I noticed that Rich McCrea had dropped off the back to adjust his bike or clothing and I dropped back to pace him back up. Of course, it wasn’t necessary but he appreciated it.
In Arreau we turned onto the climb of the Col d’Aspin. The climb was 7.3 miles long (11.8 km @ 6.5%) but not as steep as the climb yesterday up the Pla d’Adet (8.8%). When it is a steep climb like yesterday’s climb up Pla d’Adet, I do not want to stop for any reason but keep my heart rate elevated. This is training for Mount Washington, after all.
But on this climb the scenery was spectacular and the grades, at times, were not that difficult so I pulled over 2-3 times to take photos. It was also like a Reston Bike Lane group ride where I am often called the Ambassador for Cycling by calling out “Morning!” to everyone we pass. Today was no exception. “Bonjour!” “Bonjour!” And I was usually greeted with “Bonjour!” until one young man was beside me and spoke English.
We started talking and I found out (1) he is from England (2) his dad is from the U.S., (3) his mother is from France; and (4) his grandparents have a summer place in St. Lary which is where he, and we, are staying. Actually, Adrian Register, has dual citizenship, U.S. and French. Mostly me, but much of the group adopted him on our ride today. He rode with us up both climbs and we got him to join our viewing.
And Adrian returned home with us as well. Meeting him will be one of the highlights of this Tour. One of our group even asked me if he was my son.
The descent down the west side of the Col d’Aspin was great but there were no road signs warning the sharpness of the blind curves ahead. They could be sweeping curves or hairpin curves. The roads were hard to read and, like yesterday, I came away with an appreciation for how fast the pros descend and the risks they take.
We continued our descent until we reached the village of Saint-Marie-de-Campman at which point we began the climb up the Col du Tourmalet. It was crowded here with lots of cyclists, presumably about to climb the Tourmalet. Or maybe this was their viewing location.
Saint-Marie-de-Campman is a weird little town. Many residents have these almost-creepy lifesize dolls or mannequins in their windows or on their porches.
And then we began the 16.9 km climb (10.5 miles). This was longer, much longer, than the Aspin, and about the same steepness (actually 7.4% average). Much like the Aspin, stopping shouldn’t have been an option except the scenery demanded photos. It was so beautiful.
At a bridge overlooking a waterfall and crystal clear stream, we stopped for pictures and met a newlywed couple from Cincinnati, on a bike trip. Dennis McDonald went down to the stream to fill his water bottles. And he filled the bottle of our guide, Dave Edwards, who in turn, filled my bottle.
Better than water from the Laurel Mountains in Rolling Rock Beer, we were told we could drink from any stream pouring down off the mountains. Having contracted an E.Coli infection last year, I probably should have known better than to drink the water, but I did. And it was great!
Ignoring my climbing instincts of never looking up, lest I be mentally defeated, I enjoyed looking for the summit which seemed so far away. It was far away. Adrian and I discussed what we were seeing and eventually decided we could see a snow shed with a number of campers lined up. And we were right.
Just before the snow shed a number of cyclists had stopped. To our right, we could see why. The view to the valley jumped out and demanded that we stop and take a picture. It was both beautiful and intimidating realizing that we had just climbed so far up the Tourmalet.
We continued the climb to the ski village of LaMongie. There, Trek Travel had rented out a restaurant which would be our viewing location. We could choose either the rooftop view or street level. Or both.
The front of the restaurant was open to the street. Inside there was an open buffet. Adrian had climbed the mountain, actually two, from St. Lary and was going to look for a viewing location. One of our guides, Marquette, quietly invited him to join us. Trek Travel had 10 trips operating this week and at least two of our groups were at this restaurant. Maybe more, but not all 10.
We were still four kilometers from the summit and it looked so close so Adrian and I slowly tried to make our way through the hordes of people in the street. We had gone about 500 meters when we were met with barricades across the road and manned by Gendarmeries. The race route had been closed to the summit and we had to turn back. But that was OK.
We ate lunch and waited with excitement as the race caravan came through. It’s a parade on wheels as sponsors come by and throw newspapers, candy, caps, and even jerseys, to the crowd. What fun.
Then some team cars rolled through, one by one, not speeding but not real slow either. They were traveling at the speed of the race. When the Astana team car came by, it was met with a chorus of boos that followed it all the way up the mountain.
Yesterday, Stage 15 to Bagnères-de-Luchon, Andy Schleck went to attack but dropped his chain. Alberto Contador then attacked while claiming he didn’t know Andy had a mechanical. Most fans saw that as attacking the integrity of the sport, their sport in France, and they let Team Astana know they did not appreciate Contador’s attack to take the yellow jersey off Andy Schleck.
Although Lance Armstrong came out of retirement (2005) and returned last year and finished third, bad luck if not bad form followed him in this Tour. He was in 38th overall, almost 40 minutes off the lead of Contador then Schleck. He was reduced to stage hunting.
We were watching on the TVs inside the restaurant and saw that Damiano Cunego and Sandy Casar were in the lead group. When they finally came up the climb, there was Chris Horner and Lance Armstrong. I wasn’t even ready to photograph. Lance? You go!
An added benefit of having Adrian with us was he seemingly knew every single rider in the peloton. We knew a few of Radio Shack, Lance’s team, plus a few others but that was it. This guy knew them all.
Contador came through with Schleck and was met with a chorus of boos. I wonder if Andy knew those weren’t for him.
The stage started in Bagnères-de-Luchon and climbed over the Peyresourde. On the descent off the Peyresourde Jens Voigt crashed. Both team cars were ahead so he had no replacement bike available. The Mavik neutral support had been supporting a junior’s race and offered what they had – a kid’s bike. How does this happen? When he rode by his he was quite bloodied and bruised.
After the stage went by we were to ride back the way we came. We got to ride down the Tourmalet. This was a friggin’ blast. Cars and campers lined the road on the way down and hundreds of cyclists went down in the left lane, which was open to oncoming traffic. Sometimes it meant passing 2-3 cars and then cutting in while others meant passing 10-20 cars even while entering a blind curve. If cyclists ahead of you go through it one assumes there’s not a camper coming up the road. One can be wrong.
Traffic was backed up solid for the last two miles. Advantage: cyclists.
At the bottom of the Tourmalet, there was a bus waiting that Trek Travel had chartered. Anyone who didn’t want to climb the Col d’Aspin from the west side could take the bus back. Many did. I didn’t. And neither did Adrian although that offer probably didn’t apply to him but I bet our guides would have permitted it.
At the top of the Aspin, someone got a race report that Lance was only a few minutes back of the lead. He wasn’t ahead by 40 minutes for the virtual lead so it must have meant that he was simply at the front end of the break. We knew we had time to see the finish if we hammered the descent on the Aspin. We did.
At the base of the mountain in the village of Arreau, we stopped in a bar and watched the end on their big screen. Lance didn’t win although he was at the front with about 100 meters to go. Pierrick Fedrigo won the stage in an eight-man sprint. Lance finished sixth (same time), the top end sprint no longer present. Contador remained in yellow with an eight-second lead over Schleck.
A lasting memory I will take from this trip is that of my grandfather’s cowbell. Many mountain top climbs have people ringing cowbells and Trek Travel handed out very small tiny baby cowbells. I gave mine to Adrian. I either didn’t hear the directions well enough or follow them exactly but we were to pack what we wanted on top of the mountain yesterday for transport ahead of time since it would be closed to traffic at some point. As I was getting ready to go this morning I found the cowbell.
My grandfather, William T. Lowmaster, had been a farmer and before his estate sale, I was able to get a very old cowbell from his barn. This handmade bell had a wooden clapper. The sound was absolutely super. It was heavy and the sound was solid. When I rang my cowbell, people listened, even the cows on the hillside. I was told some people thought I went and stole the bell from the cows. Not true.
One of our guides, NicoleKimborowicz, transported the bell to the summit so I had it when I was there. Thanks Nicole!!! For a brief time this afternoon, I felt a connection to my grandfather just ringing that bell. And all the Trek Travel bell holders were jealous.
Our day ended with a ride back to St. Lary, saying goodbye to Adrian, and then exploring St. Lary for dinner. It’s not quite Gatlinburg but think mountain village with open shops on the street. It was a GREAT day in the saddle.
EDIT/EPILOGUE – Generally, the cycling community saw Alberto Contador’s attack two days earlier when Andy Schleck dropped his chain as very unsporting. Although Thomas Voekler would win Stage 15, Contador took 39 seconds on Schleck, which was the same amount that he would win the Tour. The title was stripped from him two years later. Andy Schleck was named the winner of the 2010 Tour de France.
An unexpected trip had me at the Super Bowl on Sunday. Thoughts of working the Amgen Tour of California disappeared beneath the excitement of the Steelers 27-23 victory in what some experts proclaimed the greatest Super Bowl ever.
Getting back to earth, I am looking forward to working the Tour. I will be a course marshal on two stages. The rosters were just announced. How about these names?
Lance Armstrong, Levi Leipheimer, Christopher Horner, Yaroslav Popovych, José Luis Rubiera, Andy Schleck, Fränk Schleck, Fabian Cancellara, Jens Voigt, Stuart O’Grady, George Hincapie, Mark Cavendish, Kim Kirchen, Michael Rogers, Christian Vande Velde, Thomas Danielson, Danny Pate, David Zabriskie, Tom Boonen, Oscar Freire, Ivan Basso, Cyril Dessel, Carlos Sastre, Thor Hushovd, Alexandre Moos, Floyd Landis, Rory Sutherland, Ben Jacques-Maynes, Kirk O’Bee, Anthony Colby, Phillip Gaimon, Oscar Sevilla, Tyler Hamilton, Victor Hugo Pena, and Freddy Rodriguez.
You’ve probably heard of Lance. Probably Levi and most of these guys. But how about Anthony Colby? Or Phil Gaimon? These guys are on our domestic teams — Colovita-Sutter Home and Jelly Belly, respectfully. I’ve had the privilege of having them kick my butt up Mount Washington, New Hampshire.
Anthony won the Newton’s Revenge race July 12, 2008 while Phil finished second. In August, in the Bicycle Hill Climb Race up the Mount Washington Auto Road, Phil won (and he would want me to tell you that Anthony wasn’t there).
I know I won’t be able to get close to Lance. I hope I can talk to Floyd even briefly. I sure want to say hi to Anthony and Phil. Mary Power, the events director at Mt. Washington, even sent instructions with me to give them both a hug from her. I think I’ll pass but will pass on her greetings.