A Diary of the Etape du Tour
Morning Preparations
Monsieur Geoffroy knocked on the door and we got up. Had breakfast, and part way through the other two riders came and joined us. They had their special cake (about 15 or so round doughey muffin looking things were wrapped in groups of three in al foil) they offered one to me and after they all partook I did the same. It tasted moderately sweet and carbohydratey)
Had already packed up so just the extras. Off to Limoges, this time with the correct directions. Found our way into the city and parked near the park where the tour started.
Unpacked the bike, reassembled it, did a check on all accessories, Rain jacket, Leg and arm warmers (which I was wearing) cut down to six liquid carbo jells, three pieces of bread from breakfast, the remains of the fig tarts and the heart rate monitor. Rode to the line up area and was turned back few times as was not in the correct number zone. Then I was not rejected at the 6500 to something zone and rode in. The whole road was full of cyclists and the bigger number areas were filling up fast coming up to 6:00. The fellow next to me was intrigued by my standard business socks, somehow having them pulled up over my leg warmers looked like a new bicycle accessory invention.
I surveyed the gearing and found roughly 50/50 triple and non triple chain rings amongst the other riders. I had agonized for months over the required gearing and finally took Byrons advice and bought a Lemond with a bigger rear cluster from Victor Cycles. This gave a 39:27 lowest gear.
Next thing I hear Gay and Alex with Betty call out as they have tracked me down. They took several photos. My heart rate was 90 to 95 just standing there (bit of a waste don't you think)
The Start of the Tour
With heightening excitement from the French speaking person on the PA system, obviously the leaders were getting under way. Ten or 15 minutes later there was a move in the crowd and with a lot of clicking we were underway at a few km/hr. Slightly down hill at a steady crawl with onlookers wishing last minute support.
After about 500m there was a bit of a bottleneck and half the riders clicked out, tapping one foot on the road for support. Then off and underway. The pace picking up as we went through the town. I took advantage when I could picking up places if there was a gap, and as the pace quickened I used the unfamiliar corners to pick up more places. Then an unexpected steady climb and I limited my power intentionally, and saw a steady overtake by the rest of them. For the first 30k I didn't see my heart rate below 160. (Not sure if there was a problem with the monitor as I saw it on 169 for an extended period. It sticks on the last reading for a while if it has trouble with reading). On the flat the pace was brisk at around 39kHr.
30Km in
I was expecting some sort of water stop at the 30k point and the elimination zone but No water pickup that I saw so pleased I had two water bottles.
Up to 60k now and still traveling fast, and a little concerned that it will be hard to finish this thing! Even though were were not at any designated climbs, we had quite a hill to go up, not too steep and I used 39:24 on it to conserve my legs, but still a worrying sign of things to come. I have come to dislike that term "undulating" which means a bloody lot of hill climbing!
Down the other side it was a well treed area on a bumpy road with winding turns, a bit like Mt Tamborine. I headed off down the hill at pace, steadily overtaking all in my way, but had to take my weight on the pedals to minimize the road shock (and the possibility of crashing).
I had to run off the road on the left one time as someone moved over unexpectedly. Fortunately I just bounced over the bitumen edge and was able to get back on the road 10m later. I glanced at my rear vision mirror occasionally half expecting to see someone like the politely aggressive Adrian, who once pedaled up beside me on a fast descent back home. One priceless comment from a youngish English gentlemen as I squeesed between he and another around a corner "Oh Crap" he said, in a very English private school accent that showed a tinge of fear.
Half way up each hill I seriously wondered if I could make the distance, and halfway down the next I didn't know what I what I was worried about.
Rode through quite a few villages with narrow streets and people out encouraging us along. I had a distinct advantage on the right handers as I had no inbuilt bias against riding on the left side of the road.
Thank goodness for leg and arm warmers. They were ideal at the start to keep me warm. They can be folded down for the hill climb, and then folded back up again at the start of the descent where they again keep you warm and also give psychological protection against gravel rash.
Into a city down a hill through a roundabout and almost same direction up the other side I overtook about 15 while barely pedaling. Turned out to be the first food drink stop, and I saw Gay Alex and Betty there waving.
First Food Stop
Got three food bars (Chocolate caramel color and white bars, just open in a box not individually wrapped) They were good and I placed them in my jersey, filled up the drink bottles, had a chat with the family and headed off after no more than 5 min break (Betty timed it at 8.5min, next time Ross tells you something will take 5 minutes max you know what he means). At the top of the hill found a spot between all the rest and had a "piss stop".
I cant remember the order of climbs but I distinctly remember that what I thought to be relatively flat start 100 kM contained many small ascents and descents that I would have willingly traded for Doornock Terraces.
The general run of my ride was this.
Struggle up the hills in a fairly low gear on the right side of the road (leaving the overtaking left side to the faster hill climbers). As the gradient reduced before the top click up gears and lift the pace and move more to the left (I was more a middle laner at slight up gradient). On the flat at the top move more to the left ready for the assult on the decline. As the slope started to go down, hands off bars, put on gloves and pull up arm warmers and leg warmers, select top gear, gave a short burst to get up to speed then tuck in tight and wait for gravity to do its thing. There was normally some room on the extreme left of the road, but not always as some people thought they were the fastest, so there was a need for words like Merci, Pardon, Monsier, Left and if all failed take the tiniest margin and squeeze through. Hitting the bottom of the hill at pace and initially coasting then peddling up (but not frantically) allowed my advantage to extend for the first couple of hundred meters, then it was slide steadily to the right and change gears, mentally check food and water levels and begin the steady grind again while watching the steady procession of riders (twice as many as I had just overtaken) overtake me up the hill.
A particularly enjoyable section was down hill into a small village through a street with a roundabout in the middle and a right angle to the right. We had been descending for several minutes and I had been steadily overtaking riders. Coming into the roundabout there was no need to use the brakes though the others in front did. Using the Australian advantage, I was quite comfortable doing a right hand turn going clockwise around a roundabout running wide at the exit, so I did a Robbie McEwen and zipped in and out of that roundabout so fast it caused a collective gasp from the French onlookers behind the barrier.
At one stage I started to get a cramp in the left inside quad. (The one that cyclists build up with extended exercise. It happens in muscles that are not initially required for an action, but can be recruited and add power) I rubbed it furiously as I had just started a climb and could easily be put out if the cramp continued. I imagined that it was because my weaker left leg was not as developed in this area, but this was dispelled 10 minutes later when I started to get a cramp in the right inside quad! I gulped down more Gatoraide (which I had mixed up with cleverly packaged doses of powered Gateorade kept in coin money plastic bags that I now found out have a leather punch style hole in them!?) and hoped for the best. The cramps didn't return so I assumed it was the lack of these additives and kept forcing the water down.
With tired muscles at the start of a decent I relaxed my grip on the frame with my knees when I was putting on my gloves. A bit of a bump initiated a speed wobble, but a quick clamp with the knees stopped it immediately.
Puy Marie (the Last Climb)
The ride up to the Puy Marie was long and steady. It was beautiful and awesome with the fence constructed of squat concrete posts with a steel hollow square section as a rail mounted with one edge up, passing through the posts. Down to the right you could not see anything for about 300m as the land dropped away at what must have been not much off vertical. Up ahead you could see a high peak with a winding road. The slope at this point was not too bad, probably not as steep as Mt Coot-tha but long. I concentrated on the wheel of a yellow jersey ahead of me, watching his tripple chain ring rotate faster than mine.(but I didn't want lower gearing as the legs wouldn't have gone any faster anyway) At this point my general condition meant that my maximum comfortable (not really) working rate represented a heart rate of 141 bpm. (what happened to the 160 I held for an extended period earlier?)
Next thing the slope lifted and I heard someone say 15% (the rides at St Auvant and said 17%) but anyway it was in the realm of the Glorious Samford road). I was already in 39:27 and rode the first 500m of the remaining 2kM standing for 50m then sitting for 50m. Gradually people were stopping and walking either in their shoes or just socks. Despite my ride up the Mt Glorious Samford 15% road after a 70kM Gap Cycle ride, this was a more difficult task. The same sort of climb but after 150kM of "undulating" buildup, and now we had already climbed to 1270m !. I'm not sure if I could have ridden up this section, but common sense dictated I didn't if I wanted to finish the rest of the ride. Walking at 4kHr I amused myself by watching the 2/3 of the riders that were still riding struggling up at maybe 6kHr and watching my average speed readout slowly dropping back, 23.4 23.3kHr My heart rate was the same 140-141bpm that I had been riding at earlier!
The last straight section to the top showed the peak (with a walking track the went maybe 30m higher then the road) and a drink/food station just before the peak. Several cyclists jumped back on their bikes to ride the last section (either so that they could say they rode over the top, or because they incorrectly thought the slope had reduced significantly) Quite a few of them fell off in the first couple of pedals. One fella was looking at blood running off his elbow. I refilled my water bottles and mixed the last Gatorade. Down the decent I was a little too aware of the consequence of running off the road and took the decent fast but not furious. Before I could really get into the swing, the slope had reduced to more like 8% and there was only need to dab the brakes for some corners. A bit of a surprise as I expected to get higher speeds than I get at home. (Turned out my max speed checked at the end of the race was 79kHr, the same as the max I have got down Mt Coot-tha in Brisbane)
Never the less it was heaven to have a non peddling decent that lasted for 15min +
A dark haired female rider that I had found myself beside on a number of occasions, assumed I spoke French and spoke a few sentences to me. I did my usual "Parlez Vous Anglaise" to which she shrugged and a little later said "Bad". I assumed that she was saying her English was bad and not that I was a bad person. None the less she said another sentence in a friendly manner and steadily pulled away up the hill, leaving me contemplating the slight discontinuity of movement of her legs as they went from pushing to pulling, and my general need for better conditioning to do this ride.
No Really the Last Climb
The effects of the Migraine largely gone except for a dull ache in the brain (which may explain the following misjudgment) I continued on. An English rider asked if there was just one more climb. I said yes, and another English speaking rider said "But this one is not as hard as Puy Marie" During the next climb I somehow saw a height sign of Mt Something 1200m and converted this to we are over the last climb! Down again and felling tired but relaxed I started to get suspicious as the terrain seemed to be higher all around. My odometer said around 200kM and I thought it was all down hill from here. Through a village, but heading up hill with cheering onlookers on both sides I was definitely suspicious. Then I saw a smaller drink food stop, but still I continued on in blatant disbelief of impending reality. Up a reasonable grade and around the corner and there was no doubt! It was the last straw, the last bloody climb was just starting!! I rode up a couple of hundred meters till the penny dropped, I had to stop for a rest.
Hundreds of places moved past as I munched on sweet granular energy bars forced to go down with sports drink. Other riders stopped and one in particular, on the other side of the road slowed to a stop opposite, looked across at me and just shook his head. No need to talk, we understood each other.
All Down Hill from Here but will there be a Sprint for the Finish?
After the last climb it was all down hill, or that's what I thought as yet another steady rise was required. This over, it was genuinely down hill or flat and the numbers had stretched out into small packs of 3 or 4 or a dotted line of riders. Where it was steep enough to not to peddle, thats what I did, but then the slope flattened out and I had to peddle again.
A few groups formed and I noted a youngish fella (sub 30) in a white plastic jacket catch up to me and slot in with apparent power to spare. When he jumped to the next group I went too. An increase in slope allowed me to get past him by about 100m but with 5km to go he picked me up again. We rode in a small group of 5 for about a k, then he kicked and took off by himself. I had a picture of Ian or Micheal (Gap Cycle) going early for the sprint and I surged and slotted into his slipstream.
There was a bit of headwind now and his plastic jacket was flapping in the breeze. He steadily picked up the pace and his style suggested he had more endurance and less sprint then I have (like Jens from Cycleogical, who has the added endearing quality that has him allowing you to draft him for kms and then not mind you sprinting past just before the line. He believes this is his win also). In this relatively meaningless dual (resulting in a difference in placing of 1 in 5000 odd) the conditions for me were near perfect. Following a good leadout rider, down hill, and Wallah! a tight 90 deg left hander followed by an 80m sprint to the line!
We were doing over 40kHr and I bided my time, tucked in close and watching the flapping jacket use up precious kJ of his energy. Just before the corner I put in a burst and took my rival and three others that were in the way. No need to sprint to the line I just coasted over under the big air arch and imagined how my small win would benefit my related generations in the future.
Walked to the agreed spot and saw Alex's pink scarf, with Gay and Betty close by.
Picked up my food bag and caught up with the rest of the days events.
Sat for a while along the finishing straight in the grandstand and watched the various riders coming in. Some put in a sprint to the finish against someone else, or just by them selves. Others held hands high together, often with the same team jerseys to the delight of the onlookers that were cheering. Some others stopped before the line and greeted friends. I felt a sense of relief as I saw riders still coming in.