France - July 2011 - The Etape Du Tour

Now that we are home again it has taken me a little bit of time to get the creative juices flowing, so I hope that I can convey my thoughts well enough to keep you reading.

The trip started on Thursday 7th July when I pretty much went straight from work to catch the ferry at Portsmouth - Amanda had booked the day off and that, coupled with a great deal of work the night before, everything was packed and we flung ourselves head-long in to the chaos that was getting onto the ferry (wait in a queue for a bit, move forward to another queue....... add as many steps as you want to here). Still, Portsmouth is not the most quaint of places and it serves as a really good place to get out of the country (it's all you want to do once you get there).
Once though, we found our cabin, dropped the overnight stuff and headed for the onboard delights of the "Dirty Duck", "Pub" and began on the pint that I hoped would get me nicely off to sleep. There was just enough time to "tweet", my where-abouts to the people that mean the most to me (it turned out to be an excellent way of keeping people up-to-date).
Friday morning duly arrived and we pulled into Le Havre, which I was amazed to learn is now a UNESCO World Heritage site, and we faced up to the enormity of the drive to the outskirts of Grenoble - some 37 light years away by car.
I won't dwell on this part of the trip other than to say that 1. French roads are awesome, 2. I love the little picnic areas that area regularly dotted along these routes, 3. French drivers scare the pants off you at first - if people drove so close in England nobody would get anywhere as they would stopping to have a "road-rage" related fight every few miles.
We arrived in Saint-Egreve, just North of Grenoble at around 6pm, without too much fuss thanks to the Sat Nav, unloaded the car and set about the fruitless task of finding somewhere to eat, ending up back at the hotel resturant after a mile of walking in the evening heat.
Our short term reality show "A Salesman's Life" continued promptly the next morning as we reloaded the car and headed off to our first main base of Saint Jean De Maurienne (where joy-of-joys) we would actually be spending two nights. On the way we passed through Le Bourg d'Oisans, and took the opportunity to drive up Alpe D'Huez, firstly to have a look at it and secondly to find the hotel that we would be staying in after the Etape.
Back on the road and a dramatic drive over the Col De La Croix De Fer took us to the hotel in SJDM. A modest affair but the room was big enough to fit the bike in and was high enough up to see the mountains over the town.
We decided to go for a short bike ride to stretch the legs and a short trip up the first couple of Km of the CDLCDF and back down was enough during the heat which, shortly after we got back, gave way to an enormous thunderstorm, clearing the air nicely.
Sunday meant that we had to go and register so we hitched a bus journey to the tented village high above the start town of Modane. An hour was spent taking care of the formalities and then gaining every single freebie that we could.
The bus arrived back at the hotel early enough for us to go for a short ride so we joined up with Martin and Sarah from our hotel and set off up the Col Du Mollard which was straight out from the back of the hotel but which turned out to be a ten and a half mile Category 1 climb.
Sarah and Martin chose to save their energy and turned back about halfway up but myself and Amanda completed the climb and then headed back for our pre-ride meal.

4am was the alarm call and having organised all my gear the night before I was feeling quite calm and went down for breakfast in shorts and a tee shirt, quietly chuckling to myself at all the others who came down in their full cycling kit - so uncomfy (a lesson learned from "Fat Camp").
30 minutes later and I was changed and on the bus ready to go. I bid farewell to Amanda who to set off for the finish as soon as I left and the bus started on the long-ish drive to the start.

We had a group of "all the gear and no idea" Americans on the bus with us and they were complaining that we were being dropped of too far from the start and that they wanted to be taken closer to Modane ( in hindsight an extremely wise move as the road was much longer and more uphill than it first appeared).
As we progressed we overtook a steady stream of cyclists before hitting solid traffic, and only because  we were bigger than most, our driver forced his way through in to a car park and we got off, gathered out strength and headed the final 5km towards Modane.

The Etape Du Tour 2011 Acte 1

According to everyone that I spoke to I had quite a low "dossard" (start number) and this put me reasonably close to the front in terms of starting.
A man (who turned out to be a woman) constanly relayed information in several different languages over the tannoy system - yep, nobody had a "lie-in" in Modane that morning.
Finally the Mayor of Modane gave the word and my group were off at around 7.40am and it was chilly to say the least as the sun hid behind the Alpine landscape.
The route started with a really fast 20 Km downhill run to Saint Michel De Maurienne and then came the left turn to signify the start of the action - the Col Du Telegrape - which is right above your head as you make this turn, leaving you wondering how are we going to get that high in such a short relative distance. The answer is easy - loads of hairpin bends, a trip round a gorge to the tune of 11.8km and an average gradient of 7.3%.
I had made my mind up to ride this climb very steadily, trying not to let my heart rate get above 150, which I pretty much managed.
This climb was a joy in the early morning light with the sun just beginning to take away the early chill, but it just keeps going - snaking up the early sections and then hugging the left side of a ravine before sweeping around the back of this chasm to arrive at the summit on the far side. The last section of which can be seen as you glance to your right and up..... a familiar glance as the day went on.

There were quite a few people at the summit of the Telegraphe, but I chose not to stop at the feed station there, as even at my steady pace I was feeling quite strong and had passed more than few riders on the way up.
So I continued down the 5km decent that took you to the beautiful alpine town of Valloire and the base of the Col Du Galibier.

I did not really have too much time to take in much about the town but noticed a series of wooden carvings on the traffic roundabout, and a fellow dressed in a cow suit, who I duly "high fived" as I went past. This all helped to take my mind of the fact that the gradient had started to rise considerably in the blink of an eye.
Shortly after I exited the town I stopped at the village-sized feed station and refilled my water bottles, but conscious of not letting my legs stiffen up too much, got straight back on the bike and headed off - destination - the top of the world.
The Galibier is truly beautiful .... gone were the trees and gorges, replaced by snow capped peaks and Alpine meadows, abundant with scores of butterflies and bees.

As the road climbs past a couple of hairpin bends it heads onwards through a gap between peaks to a place called Plan Lachet where the road turns hard right, over a bridge and back on itself - and here's where the fun really starts?!!?

You can see this whole section from a fair distance away but what you don't realise at first is that this is the first in a series of hairpin bends that take you up to the next plateau. It's only when you see all the riders ahead and trace them up the hill that the enormity unfolds. This whole section is much steeper and like the other climbs that we undertook in the Alps, is very consistant with not much chance to rest.

Plan Lachet is just out of shot in the botom right hand of this photo but this gives you an idea of of the sheer scale of this section and what a visual impact it can have on you as a rider. You can click on this photo to see it in full size and Valloire is just visible in the distance.
When you have got to the top of this section the road sweeps away to the right, then swings away to the left and over a bridge (from where I took this photo the following day), and then back round to the right past the brand new monument to the late, great Marco Pantani.

Another left turn and you can see the summit by tracing the riders up! It's high but only looks about 2km away (you appear on this photo where the first red dot is just to right of centre).
At almost the same moment you past the 5km to go stone (each Alpine climb has a stone every km to indicate how far is left and what the average gradient is for the next km, similar to the one below). A kick in the teeth for sure, and not the last.

The road swings again to the left and steadliy climbs towards the final two km which are the steepest of the whole climb, hovering between 9% and 11% which is brutal after having been climbing for that long.
With one km to go you pass the tunnel which is used when the summit is closed and enter the final section of hairpins on freshly laid, super-smooth tarmac.
Still climbing steadily I was recovering from an error in judgement. I wasn't really aware of the effects of the altitude, until, with my mouth feeling dry I took a big gulp from my water bottle, missing a breath cycle in the process. It must have took me 15 breaths to "get my breath back" and for a while I was gasping for air.
From then on it was sips only.

At the same time a British couple were setting up their camper van in readiness for the Tour de France, which would come by a full 11 days later. Now that's dedication.

The summit finally arrived and because there was so many people around I almost missed it and didn't see the summit marker at all.
A good reason to go back the following day and join the queue for the obligatory photo by the alitiude sign.

(My dog insisted on coming)

It was surprisingly warm going over the top of the Galibier - no need for the arm warmers or windproof jacket that I was carrying. But it was not too warm at this stage especially as the first part of the descent is 12 % and on a freshly resurfaced road, that was littered with hairpin bends and blind corners.

This sign signifies the start of around 40km of decending, which is an experience like nothing I have encountered before. With closed roads and the abilty to therefore use the whole road, being able to see where you were going for a long distance and speeds averaging around 45mph for almost three quarters of an hour, I likened it to spending a whole day at Alton Towers without ever getting off a ride.
One of the greatest thrills of my life.

The Henri Desgranges Memorial.

The Glacier De La Meije

As I hurtled down this descent, mind focused, on the drop handlebars of my Trek Madone (aka Lord Trekington), fingers never to far away from the brakes - just in case. My mind was drawn to warnings about a series of tunnels further down the road. I can remember wondering what could be so dangerous about tunnels. Still there was nothing here to break the speed other than having to slow down a bit every now and again as the road swept over fissures housing waterfalls and a hard bend or two as I approached the feed station at La Grave.

Again I only stopped for the shortest time necessary to fill my water bottles and grab a banana, and I was back on the road heading for the Lac Du Chambon.....

....which is one of the many "man-made" lakes the French have created to harness Hydro-electric power. You sometimes wonder if these pictures have been "doctored" due to the colour of the water - being so aqua-blue. Well having taken this picture myself I can assure you that it really is that colour! This picture is taken from the dam that marks the end of the main lake which we would all pass over in a while.

Shortly out of La Grave the nature of the road began to change as the lake comes into range. Gone were the meadows and treeless landscapes, replaced by a road which was carved into rock and perched high above the lake.  With the rock though, came the tunnels, the first of which came as quite a shock.... They were not lit and at the speeds that all the riders were going, our eyes had no time adjust from the brilliant, cloudless bright sunlight, before not being able to see anything. I ( as many probably did), instantly hit the brakes and pulled my sunglasses down to the end of my nose so that could look over them. I was also helped by two French Policemen on motorbikes, whose headlights lit the way.

I was pleased to emerge safely through this and a series of probably another six to eight tunnels, but as the road swept across the dam and past the final part of the lake I could hear sirens in the distance.

Within a few moments, and ambulance and four police motorbikes came past in the opposite direction - I would find out later that there had been a bad accident in one of the tunnels and a rider had been taken away in an air ambulance, and the police made the remianing riders walk through that tunnel.

The next section of the route is essentially the only flat part of the stage, and it delivers you to the bottom of the famed climb of Alpe D'Huez.

You could sense the nervousness amoungst all the people that I was around on this stretch, certainly nobody was really pushing the pace and I sat behind a French Gentleman who looked a good few years my senior as he munched on a sandwich and chucked the foil into the undergrowth - AAARRRRRGGGGHHHH!! My pet hate - still I had all my litter in my back pockets so I was able to take my own silent "moral high ground". Blooming unecessary though, and in such beautiful surroundings too, etc, etc - Alright Alex, I think we have got the message.

There was the final feed station at the bottom of the Alpe, right by the information sign that you see me standing next to in the picture above. I phoned Amanda to let her know that I was at the bottom of the climb (she probably thought that she would see me pass in the next 45 mins - how wrong she was).

Straight out of the feed zone I rolled over the mat that the video company were using to identify the riders and the organisers were using to time the climb, and then a left turn and the markers to indicate the small matter of 13.8km to the end!!!

I have watched this a hundred times trying to get an idea of what to expect but nothing can. From nowhere the road shoots up to 13% and I could feel my legs beginning to melt underneath me. It was really hot now - pretty much the middle of the day. I can remember thinking earlier on in the stage that the Alpe had trees along the bottom section and wouldn't be too hot. No chance. The sun was directly overhead and there was not a breathe of wind. I can remember trying to get under any shade either from the odd tree or the rock face but the road keeps changing direction, not just because of the hairpins but also just natural wriggles. A spot of shade was gone in instant.

I heard afterwards that it had been 35C on the final climb and certainly I have never experienced heat like it - stifling.

The stretch to the first bend is long.... and steep and I could hear a group of young girls and Mum's chanting Allez, Allez, Allez as I rode - what a great job they were doing. A rider in front of me "high fived" one of them so I moved across the road and "high fived" the entire group". They instantly got a surge from being appreciated and I got an uplift for well..... not long enough really but it was still a lovely moment. You can watch it here in HD, click 720p.

And there it was, bend number 21 - dedicated to Fausto Coppi and Lance Armstrong. I comforted myself in the fact that they also struggled on this climb, the difference being that they were probably going about four times faster and were about to win a stage on the famous climb. I was certain to finish second to them, but the ride would be no less effort.

The hairpins on the Alpine climbs are the only sections where the gradient eases, the complete opposite to British roads where the corners are generally the steepest parts. It plays with your mind though because, as you round the bend, and get some respite, the road then peels upwards in front of your eyes. Again, it was a time to settle into a rhythm, and pace myself.

I have to admit that the next few bends are a bit of a blur and the next time I took note I was at bend 18 and then 15. More and more people lined the route and were cheering - it was genuinely humbling.

I rounded a corner, I can't remember which and a group of guys with hosepipes were spraying anyone that wanted it down with cold water. I had my helmet camera on so I declined .....but you have no idea how much I wanted to.

By now, I was staggered by how high we had climbed as spectacular views appeared over Bourg D'Oisans in the valley below. This picture shows Le Bourg D'Oisans in foreground, the climb in the middle and Alpe D'Heuz at the top and is take from www.steephill.tv

Still there is no let up in the gradient. I rounded a corner to see a camper van with a Union Jack draped over it and shouted (not very loudly), "Come on you Brits", to which I received a huge cheer from the occupants - lovely, it really does keep you going. My unrelenting slow pace continued past Huez village and finally the pitch of the road backed off a little, and it was at this point I could see a Dutch camper van parked up and the family, pouring cold water down the necks of passing riders. I got both the two girls and the Dad to cool me down, which felt fantastic, and I reserved my best "Merci" of the week for them. Why you may ask, the were Dutch - well I worked on the idea that their French was a good deal better than my Dutch.

The beatuful Amanda was waiting for me at bend number 1 just before the "Flamme Rouge" (meaning red kite) and is above the road at the one km to go mark. She didn't see me coming until the last moment and almost missed me.
Once past the 1 km mark the road flattens a bit for the first time and goes past numerous bars and eateries - I don't think many of the riders will appreciate the guys cheering here while taking sips of their ice cold beers, but still the thought was there.
Past our future hotel and maybe 500 metres of downhill - then the final left hand turn, and you've guessed it, a final uphill section to the line. I can remember seeing this and turning to the guy at the side of me and saying "Oh for crying out loud".
I crossed the line in a blaze of sweat and jelly legs while "You can leave your hat on", by Tom Jones (from the Full Monty) played over the loud speakers. There were hundreds of people around the finish and I have to honest and the ladies were going mad at this music, I decided not to perform a striptease at this time as I thought they would be most disappointed.
I recorded a short message just after I finished as Amanda could not get there in time so I don't have an actual shots of me crossing the line - I do have it on video so I will post that as soon as I can.

And that's it really. I got my medal and goody bag and freewheeled back to the hotel, where Amanda meet me with an ice cold Coke - bliss.

I will detail the remainer of the trip in a fresh post but before I finish there are a few people that I would like to say a massive thank you to.......

Firstly my wife Amanda, without which none have this would have happened (mainly because she paid for the whole trip), but also for her unwavering support (excluding the Col Des Saisies - see later post), including training rides and even following round in the car taking photos and video. What a rock.

Secondly Fred and Jenny Hawkes, my awesome parents who have covered their lack of interest in cycling so well, that I am still fooled. They have help raise money (by pestering half on Nottingham), constantly listening to me going on about hills and cycling stats and are just such great people....

and finally Sally at the Alzheimer's Society, Nicola and Parkinson's UK and everone who has sponsored me and help me raise a ton of money.

I you have read all of this Chapeau to you. It probably took you couple of days, and I'm afraid you will never get that back, and if you sponsored me too, you will never get that back either - but it has gone to one of two great causes and will hopefully benefit many of us in the future.

Thanks, and P.S, I watched the pros do the same stage today and it was great to see them suffer too. At least we went over the top of the Galibier and not through the tunnel as they did.