VeloNomad Reader Trip Reports #4 – HugeMutha, Australia

I awoke to grey skies and rain on the morning of the 17th July somewhat nervous about the mountains I would have to face later on. breakfast is difficult to come by in France so I scoffed down two croissants and a strong coffee as a poor substitute and added a litre of sports drink and two gels for good measure.

Driving into Issoire took a long time due to the thousands of cyclists coverging on the start, many had parked on the highway and ridden to the start and the gendarmery were frantically trying to move them on – I inched my way into town till I found a safe place to park and offload the bike.

I reached the start at 06:45 and found that my number 7123 was in the last group to start so I waited around 45 minutes to finally be on my way. I joined up with a group of around 20 riders and we set off at around 35km/h, the pace suited me and I was not pushing too hard so I figured I would still have heaps of energy when we hit the first hill, the Cote de Massiac.

At this point I need to tell you a little about Perth Western Australia where I live and train – Perth is mostly flat, with the Darling escarpment around 20km East of the city – every ride starts with a 20km spin-up followed by a 320m hill lasting aroud 6km which is in turn followed by an undulating route. The steepest incline is 9% for 2km. The Cote de Massiac is very similar to this so I comfortably climbed the hill but lost my group of riders doing so.

At this time, the rain started again accompanied by a 20km/h Southerly wind which made the undulation seem like hills so I found a group riding at around 28km/h and hid behind them until the feeding station at Dienne where I supplimented my hourly Gels and energy drink with a banana and refilled my bottles. I rode with a few French riders to the foot of the Col du Pas de Peyrol, a Cat 2 monster of 500+ metres over 8km or so, the last km is around 12% (I think) I ground over the top thanking the compact cranks and 27 rear cog for assisting me to make the climb.

The descent was awesome, I threw caution to the wind (literally as it turns out) and I flew down reaching 75km/h passing hundreds of more cautious riders in the process – this is why we climb hills isn't it, for the thrill of the descent! The Col du Perthus stripped me of the elation of the descent, a shorter, steeper Cat2 – how do the pros do this day after day?

Descending was awesome again although I was prevented from going as fast as I wanted by over-cautious riders as it had started to rain again and had become really cold, less than 5C – I cursed my wife for her advice no to wear the thermal gear as the weather report said it would warm up later in the day – yeah, right!

Perthus was followed by two Cat3 climbs, Col de Cere and Col de la Chevade – for some reason I found these short steep climbs really difficult, my quads started to twinge – a sure sign of impending cramps, so I engaged the 27 and took it slow to save the legs for the last Cat2, the Col de Prat De Bouc and I drank plenty of liquids and sucked down a couple of gels. Thats when it all came apart, I rounded a corner and ran into a roadblock, there were hundreds of riders milling around, load arguing in French and much gesticulation – we had been eliminated for not reaching the checkpoint before the cut-off time. I felt like crying.

The Gendarmes finally let us continue after 20 minutes with a caution that the roads were now open to traffic and we should take it easy – I flew down the descent to the start of the Col de Prat De Bouc where I found a tour operator's stand where I begged for water so I could continue. All the official water and food stops were now closed because of the cut-off. I started the ascent determined to complete the ride, halfway up an official car pulled up alongside me and the driver told me to get on the bus which would take me to the finish, the ride was over. I ignored him and finished the ride to the summit where the road was again blocked, this time by official vehicles, buses and trucks full of bikes. I decided to carry on to the finish, but this resolve was abandoned when passing the buses I was hit by a gust of wind which felt as though it was around 40km/h and with it stinging rain. This, combined with the fact that I had limited water made me decide to abandon the ride.

Cold, wet and beaten, I gave my bike to the guys in the truck and I climbed aboard the bus with a mere 50km of mostly downhill in front of me and was carried (really slowly) to the finish line in shame – in hindsight, if I had known how long the bus ride would be, I would have pushed on, I know I could have ridden to the finish faster.

Well, I'm older and wiser for the experience – next time (yes, there will be a next time) I'll take care to start in the first or second group, I'll dress for the weather and I WON'T GET ON THE BUS!!