It's been a while, I know. I've had a busy and difficult Spring, and somehow have not been feeling up to updating the blog. I'm still hoping to post some photos from our trips this past Spring, but no promises! Anyway, I wanted to at least describe my experience doing the hardest ride of my life before I forget all of it.
THE RACE
Every year, the ASO, who own and run the Tour de France, organise a race/ride in which they let amateurs ride a whole stage of the Tour de France. It is almost always the hardest stage of the tour, and typically alternates between the Pyrenees and the Alps. There are a lot of difficult organised rides in the alps, but what makes this one special is the fact that it is a real stage of the tour, and they close the road to cars. It's extremely popular, and this year around 15,000 people signed up. It typically sells out in a few days, and in a fit of insanity, I signed up for it this past fall, along with some friends. This year promised to be a hard one: Stage 19 of the tour with 138 km and 4300 meters of climbing (14,000 feet), which is a good bit more climbing than I have ever done in a day.
THE BUILDUP
Ever since that moment I've been worried about finishing the thing, and have trained more this year than in previous years. Despite what I thought was a pretty decent commitment to training, I only managed around 3000 km before the race, but with a lot of climbing (65 or so thousand meter --213,000 feet). Many people target 5-6000 km before this thing. I had even ridden my home trainer (rollers) in the kitchen religiously, much to the amusement of Chloe and the kids. Anyway, the Etape fell in the middle of our Monetier-les-Bains vacation, which was good because I could get some rest, acclimate to the altitude and put in some last minute training. I've increased my threshold power dramatically, and am at my lowest weight since junior year in college. A few years ago I weighed 170 lbs, and now I weight 152, and even saw the other side of 150 a couple of times when I was really dehydrated. I don't expect it to last, but it feels good. Most of my clothes are baggy now, and I don't have enough holes in my belts.
THE DAY BEFORE
For some reason, you could not pick up your bib the day of the race, and the only place to get them was in the ugly mountain top resort town of la Toussuire. So after a long drive over Galibier and some traffic, I grabbed my bib, picked up the pretty cool free backpack and wandered around the vendor village, scoring swag and waiting for my buddy Micah and his friend Roland. I tried on helmets, ogled the Italian Ti frames, and tried to find the Rapha tent but was quickly overwhelmed by the sea of people. I also noticed that Mavic, who are about the best mechanics you can get, were offering free bike tune ups, so I had them look at my derailleurs. In a series of expert motions, my bike was soon shifting beautifully. No more excuses. I had ridden Izoard a couple of days earlier, so declined Micah and Rolland's offer to do some last minute cycling, and headed to the Chalet that they rented in Valfrejus, up the valley. Unfortunately, through some miscommunication there wasn't really room for me, and the guy organising it was acting like a bit of a putz, so I decided to drive back over Galiber and sleep in Monetier -- whew!
RACE DAY
The next morning, I got up at 4:30, fueled up -- oatmeal, bananas, coffee etc and drove over Galibier AGAIN! It was beautiful watching the sun rise over the Cerces though. After Valloire, I pulled into the lot with the public toilet, and disaster: Toilet hors service! Oh well, on to St. Jean, where traffic had backed up onto the motorway. I wanted to get a little closer to the starting line, but zoomed around the first roundabout I saw and parked. After some desperate moments in which I though I had forgotten some key gear, I hopped on the bike and sped off to my staging area. The race is started in waves of ~1000, and it was kind of a zoo. Happily, it was pretty warm already, so waiting around was not a big deal. We eventually started rolling out, and much to my surprise, the guy next to me crashed immediately! Not a great sign. After a flat rollout, the first big climb began immediately. 1000 meters of climbing on roads entirely filled with people. I'm talking shoulder to shoulder the entire way up. As far as you could see up the road it was more of the same. I've never seen so many cyclists in my life. The sea was only parted by the frequent passing of support motos and fast guys. There were also spectators shouting encouragement and ringing bells, which was wonderful. This would continue for the entire race, and really lifted my spirits.
I was committed to going slowly, so after a long time I got to the col which happened to be the first feed station, which was mobbed. I decided to skip that one, and coasted over the col. Almost immediately I hit a huge cyclist jam. We were all at a standstill for 10-20 minutes because of some unknown problem down the road. I know this descent and was planning on making up for my slow ascending by blitzing the descent here, but no dice. Even when we started moving it was at a snails pace. Wheels and brakes were overheating and you could actually smell burning. I read later on that there were a lot of exploded wheels because of all the braking. Last year I rode this descent with Hank and Mat. We stopped for multiple beers halfway down, and yet this descent was only 2 and a half minutes faster. Crazy. Anyway, on to la Chambre, where I stopped at a feed station, crammed bananas down, drank two cokes, finished my water and refilled. Next, through the "flat" section which was not flat at all, and actually had some decent climbs on the Eastbound leg. I saw my first american there -- a lady that had done 6 previous Etapes -- pretty amazing. Next, the biggest climb of the day -- the dreaded Glandon+Telegraphe. This is a Really Big Climb and it was my third time on it. It kicks my butt every time. 20km and 1400 meters, with a vicious end. I skipped the feed at the bottom because it was mobbed again, but stopped halfway up to eat and refill bottles. The end was mayhem -- people walking bikes and almost falling over. I made it to the col and then my hamstring locked up in a brutal cramp. I literally couldn't move, but ate a pickle (my secret weapon against cramps!) and eventually the muscle unlocked. This allowed me to gorge on bananas and coke again. A guy was throwing up next to the feed zone. Shangri-la! Next, a quick descent and up to Telegraphe. I had to take it easy here or my legs would cramp. A guy next to me muttered "C'est l'enfer!" ("It's hell!"). Nothing to say about Telegraphe, and then down the crappy road to the Mollard climb. Fast and dangerous again, and more burning brakes. I did Mollard at a snails pace, again fighting cramps and rationing pickles. Then, Mollard, where I stopped for a while to eat more rice cakes and refill with water. Incidentally, the water fountains seem like a much better bet than the feed zones. Then, a reasonably fast descent for once, into one last feed zone at the base of la Toussuire and onto the climb. My cramps were finally gone, and my legs felt pretty good on this climb, heart rate was low, and except for the intense heat and relentlessness of the climb, it wasn't too bad. Kind locals were shouting "Allez" and spraying riders with water to cool them down, which was fantastic. Finally I rolled through the line, and they gave me the last of the admirable list of freebies -- a very nice medal and a finishers T-=shirt.
Then a torturous ride back down the hill, which had MORE CLIMBING! I couldn't believe it! I met Micah and Rolland who had very unfairly been swept up by the time limits because they started later than I did. We had some beers and pizza (thanks Micah!) and I rode back to my gar and drove back over Galiber for the fourth time in two days. What a crazy day.
So yeah, that's done. It was really hard and I wasn't fast, but I finished.
Here's an article about it: http://www.sbs.com.au/cyclingcentral/article/2015/07/20/15000-participants-flock-letape-du-tour-france
