(from L to R - Dave Batterbee (9 hours 7 mins), Mike Bowen (8 hours 14 mins), Paul Barry (12 hours 24 mins), Richard Muchmore (8 hours 6 mins), Jonathan Howe (9 hours 00 mins)). 

 

The ride officially lists just over 6,200 riders, but it seemed a lot more.   We rode 6km to the start and willed the sun to climb the mountains and start warming things up, as it was very cold; even though there was not a cloud in the sky.  In fact, I had not seen a cloud in the sky since arriving at base camp in Venosc on Thursday at Chalet Grand Rochail (pictured below):

 

 

 

 

The start was busy as you might expect.  We were down to go off at 7.50, but it was 8.10 before we eventually reached the starting mat and heard the beep beep of the timing chips crossing the line.     At 7.50 we were nervously waiting (as can be seen in these two pictures):

 

 

 

 

 

Then we were off and riding at 20 plus mph along the valley, probably in an attempt to warm up, rather than a quest for a super fast time.   Personally I was still nervous at this point, having only had a couple of rides to get used to the type of climbing we were about to face.   Thursday's climb of Alpe D'Huez to register, collect rider number and timing chip etc was far worse than I expected - longer and steeper than I had thought.    One of our party had come off at hairpin 19 on Thursday when descending at pace, and as I headed off towards the first climb, my thoughts went to Gareth Doman laying in Grenoble hospital unable to take part.

 

The disadvantage of riding quickly at the start on the flat is that you very quickly reach the climbs!   The gradient arrived much earlier than I thought, and I looked at Richard M, who just smiled and said "No, this is not it, this is just an entree".    Soon enough though we were onto a climb - ramping up to 14 percent and causing severe congestion, with riders at times 8 or 9 abreast and across the entire road; and no, the roads were not closed!   Why the French would want to try and drive against the flow of 6,000 cyclists is rather beyond me, but they were not to be deflected and they ploughed on irrespective, going slower down mountain than we were going up it.  14 percent is the gradient of our beloved Hartest Hill, but it went on for quite a while, before abating to 12 percent, and then 10 which felt flat by comparison.    About 2/3 of the way up Mike Bowen breezed up to me - "lovely climb this".   There are other words Mike.  I m just glad you werent there when I was speaking them.   He slowly drifted ahead of me and I continued to be blocked by riders and lost sight of him.

 

At the top of Col du Glandon was a feed station melee you had to see to believe.   Cyclists, motorcycles, cars everywhere and the road was completely blocked.  It was narrow.   I wanted to press on, and get on with the descent which was rumoured to be a doozy; so much so that it was actually neutralised and excluded from the overall ride time to stop people taking risks.   Trouble was - I didnt know that and descended like madman.  Fun it was.    Descending like that might be banned over here if we had such mountains, and I apologise that I was wearing a club jersey whilst doing it.

 

Much of the flat stage was 4% gradient incline, but comparatively flat, and we moved on to Col du Telegraphe.   This was supposed to be the nice climb - steady gradient.  Honestly, I wish some people wouldnt blog nonsense.    About an hour to climb this, and then a very short descent in Valloire.    Where is the feed station?   We went through the village centre, and I stopped at a water fountain to fill up my bottle.   As people cycled by they said "Where is the feed station", and I think I now know the phrase in about 8 different languages.  I had no idea, but I thought it best to give them all hope, so I pointed up the road - "just up ahead".    It was by this time getting really hot and the sun was strong. 

You can see the mini climb to the feed station in this photo:

 

 

 

I wondered what on earth the Galibier climb was going to be like.   As I got to the feed station, I thought the climb ahead would be chicken feed compared to the struggle to get a bread roll and an apricot.   Madness and chaos.

 

Onward to the Galibier.  You know a climb is challenging when the Pros grumble about it and it is classified "HC", and when people say "it goes on forever and gets really steep at the top when you ve been climbing for over an hour".    Thanks for that.  Long intro - switchbacks - "I spy the top" - False top - switchbacks - "I spy the top, hurrah" - False top - switchbacks "I spy the top and it is still a long way up ...   Impressive scenery and the treadmill of cyclists up ahead marching up like ants just about keeps the pedals turning.  This is hard work.   Many good cyclists are pushing up as we near the top.  Inside the head the conflict "get off - little rest - noone will know" versus "Dont stop, as if you stop you havent done the climb".    I did not stop, but the pace was not fast near the top - average 8 percent gradient.   An hour and twenty minutes after starting the ascent, I was at the top.   Another rugby scrum.  Irritating.  Bottle fill, couple of pics (see the two below), and off before I either got blown off or frozen to the spot.    It was cold up there and there was still snow around in July!

On to the descent.  Long - cyclists and cars in the way for much of it.  45 minutes or so on the way down.    5 or 6 tunnels to go through.  They were tricky - sunglasses up or down, but one of them was barely lit and quite long.    For the first time on the ride I was not swearing at a car slowing me down, but pleased it was lighting the way ahead at 25mph.

 

Eventually - Alpe D'Huez beckoned.    Terrible cramp in left foot.  Cramp in right foot.  Stop at the feed station at the bottom of the climb?   No - press on and finish it.   We had climbed Alpe D'Huez on Thursday with fresh legs, but now all of the riders had 102 miles in their legs and 3 mountain climbs.  Alpe D'Huez is steepest at the bottom, and you know it is going to hurt, especially with cramp in both feet.    Slow Slow Switchback Slow.   It was much slower this time.   I was going 4.5/ 5 mph and noone was overtaking me.   At hairpin 19 I saw the paint marks on the road marking the spot where Gareth Doman had his accident 2 days before, and I barked to myself "Come on legs!".  For Gareth, for my honey back home (who I had been really missing the whole time), for the club and for myself - let's do it.   Guys were stopping, collapsing; everyone was suffering in the heat and fatigue of it.    I worried about my feet, but I was not going to stop.  I would never have got going again.   Slowly up and up - jersey open, so thanks to Endura for a full zip.  Admiring the scenery, as well as the guys who just cant go on or are almost slowed to trackstands.   Then with 5km to the finish - Richard Seggar and Shaun Mattocks by the side of the road - "Hello boys" - high 5, a few words of encouragement, and I had a second wind.  I was, in fact, very pleased that Richard Tom Tom was not in his devil costume, and Shaun had not donned a mankini.  It was discussed.

 

For posterity Shaun took pictures of 4 of us at the 5 km to go point, and here they are:

 

   

 

 

As I got to within 3km of the top - h e a d w i n d - blast.  Then I saw Mike Bowen descending down, and he said "keep going Jonathan".  How he recognised me I have no idea, but that helped too.

Around this time I overtook Dave Batterbee apparently, although I didnt see anything. I kept looking at the top now and fixed my sights, ignoring my feet.

 

And then - round hairpin 0 - jink though some back street - and the finish!   9 hours 34 minutes of completely tough ride.  "NEVER AGAIN" was all I could think.     All I have said since I got home - "Never again".

 

The plan was to minibus us back to the Chalet, as it was 10 miles away and the last 4 miles had a climb of 850ft.  I found the minibus - but nobody there, so I rode all the way back.   Good to round the total climb for the day to 20,000ft, er not.    On the main road out of Bourg D'Ouisans I saw Paul Barry and called to him.   10 hours gone and he still had a way to go and the climb of Alpe D'Huez.  My heart went out to him, but I could see he was going to finish; and finish he did - Chapeau Paul - an awesome awesome effort.  I think this picture is you at the finish, and you should look pleased:

 

I never eat Pizza, but I did that night.  I was so hungry I nearly ate the box as well.   2 gold standards, 2 silver standards and a bronze standard.   An amazing experience, a superb achievement by all 5, but "never ever again".

 

  

Jonathan Howe