It’s been a mixture of emotions over the past two days, almost as varied as the weather in fact. There have been the glorious highs; seeing the summit of the Tourmalet emerge through the mist yesterday after a gut-busting day of foul weather and three cols. Then today we were all brought pretty suddenly back down to earth when Mac, one of our teammates, overcooked it on a 13% right hander on the descent of the Aubisque. He is fine, relatively speaking and is at this very moment licking his wounds in Pau hospital, typically for a cyclist more frustrated about missing the last two days of the tour than the pain he is in.
Despite our relief when we heard over dinner tonight that he is OK, Mac’s crash really made us all think about the risks we take, all in the name of cycling adventure. There’ll be a few nerves when we make our first descent tomorrow, but the show must go on; the Guide Dogs are counting on us!
So back to that mixed bag that was Stage 16. Tuesday’s weather was typically Pyrenean - wet. We stayed in Luchon on Monday night, which meant that we climbed from the very start on Tuesday morning, straight up the Col de Peyresourde. 5km from the summit we were in the clouds with a fine but steady rain. That in itself wasn’t a problem, in fact it was quite pleasant, but it did make the descent pretty greasy... but not much slower!
Safely across the valley, there was barely time to catch breath before the road kicked up again and marked the start of the Col d’Aspin. I had some knowledge of this one, but from the other direction, as I descended it a few years ago. I had quite a bit of company, mainly due to all the punters from the Centre Cyclisme Laurent Fignon, who were kicked out of the bus at the bottom of the climb and handed their bikes. With one col under my belt I was feeling OK, remarkably much better than I’d felt on the Port de Balès the previous afternoon. My legs felt good and I was able to tap out a steady rhythm in the rain all the way to the top.
Nobody paused for long up there in the mist. A handful of Haribo and a quick banana, jackets on and we headed off for St Marie de Campan and the start of the final and most formidable of the day's climbs, the Col du Tourmalet.
The only thing I really remember about the first 10k of the Tourmalet is rain and pain. Manageable pain though and again I was able to tap it out and actually pull away from my pal Fraser (miracles will never cease as he’s put in a lot of training hours for this). Nonetheless we’d agreed that we all ride our own ride that day and whoever felt good could go.
That fit of enthusiasm lasted until the road kicked up in earnest about a kilometre before La Mongie, arguably the ugliest square mile in the Pyrenees. I knew I had slowed, but didn’t quite realise by how much, as just as I left the last concrete hotel block of the ski resort behind me, I heard a shout. There, appearing out of the mist was Fraser, who, true to form had found his legs and was back!
From that point on we rode together, heads down but trying to keep our spirits up. I can’t tell you how glad I was to see the 1km to go sign, but it was a long time coming. The cafe on top was as warm and welcoming as I remember it, so we stayed for a while, considering our plan of attack for the descent.
Kitted out with yet more wet weather gear, we set off fairly gingerly round the first few steep bends. Now here’s the thing – the weather was completely different on the western side of the mountain – warm, sunny and dry, which made the 20 miles of descending back down the valley to our hotel a far more agreeable business. Just one niggling feeling... in three days I have to come back up this!
As I said at the start, today was a day of two halves really; gorgeous weather throughout with 35 degrees, sunshine and blue skies, some of the most beautiful mountain scenery on the planet and then there was Mac’s rendezvous with the concrete, which gave an altogether more sober tone to the end of the day. Having said that, we all agreed that, as days on the bike go, it was not half bad. Climbing the Soulor was tough, as it’s a long gradual gradient for about 20k with a nasty kick for about 8k at the end. The pain is soon forgotten when you take in the view at the top and the quick descent along the road which hugs the cliff between the Soulor and the Aubisque is simply sublime.
Once we were (mostly) off the mountain in one piece, we joined forces to bang out the last 45k to Pau – merely a formality before close of business for Armstrong and his breakaway group, but for us in all our splendid mix of ability, worth thinking about. We didn’t want to leave anyone stranded in that heat.
So I’m actually doing OK and riding into a bit of decent mountain fitness - I think. I was seriously worried about lack of preparation before I left England, but I’m riding my own tour, sticking to my rules and not chasing the front of the bunch of the man furthest up the climb and I’m really enjoying myself.
Bring on Stage 17, the Col de Marie Blanc and appointment number two with the Tourmalet.
Chris would be pleased to receive online donations in support of his Guide Dogs challenge at www.justgiving.com/Christopher-Williams2
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