Where: Pau - Hautacam
When: 20th July 2014
Organiser: ASO Challenges
Course details: Stage 18 of the TdF 2014
Distance(s): 145.5km
Marshalling: Lots
Facilities: Food stops, drink stops
Technical: Chip timing
Freebies: Rucksack, t shirt, hat, pistachios
My Race:
The long and the short of it was that I got swept up by the broom wagon on the summit of the Tourmalet.
Conditions were atrocious, about zero degrees, lashing rain and minimal visibility. I had to stop to sort myself out, I was in a bit of a state, and while I was there a gendarme appeared on swung across the road, and said that no one else was going down the mountain.
I had no real understanding of quite how bad the weather was going to be at the summit and so did not pack the right gear, nor make enough of an effort to buy the right things at the Expo the day before, where there was a massive run on all things warm and rain proof. I was wearing a base layer, a short sleeved top with arm warmers, and a shower proof jacket. I had been lent some Castelli neoprene gloves so actually my hands were ok, but I was shivering violently. At each food stop, I was chugging as much as I could get down me, but was hungry again within half an hour.
I arrived in Pau on Friday after a journey from hell with BA from Heathrow, involving no crew for the plane and then problems loading (and then unloading) all the bike boxes. So we were about 6 hours late arriving. Saturday was pretty pleasant; I registered and wandered around the Expo, had some food and ran into a few people, from work, and home, and my brother in law. Had some good food and coffee, texted Mike at Bridgtown as I was just so blown away by the whole thing.
It was all fairly well organised; and I spent the afternoon having a look around the town, before going for pasta with the tour company who I had booked with (Velocamps). I hardly slept as I was so stressed out, and up early on Sunday to get cracking. If I am honest I knew that it was not looking good.
It is so different from the triathlon scene. There were about 13,000 registrants (not sure how many actually started on the day), and these were divided into 12 pens with different start numbers and times. I am not 100% on how the start numbers (and therefore start pen + time) are allocated but it seems to be a combination of the estimated time you submit upon entry and/or your previous results. But the reality of 13,000 people or so in the town square, DJ blaring out, all jacked up and ready to roll, is something to behold.
I was in pen 11; starting about 90 minutes later than the first group, (supposed to be 8.30), but a few mins late I think. Almost everyone I met and spoke to were in groups, and I think that my approach to Tri training (and of course the reality of competing) which is solitary, is less suited to road riding. I felt a bit left out for much of it which was odd.
The course was fine for the first 3 hours of so – beautiful rolling roads until a couple of climbs of a few hundred metres (in height – not distance – category 3 climbs which in UK would be big hills). The support from the locals was amazing. No doubt they were all just out practicing for when the Tour comes through in a few days, but it was very special. My legs felt good and I was spinning along. The descents were pretty hairy. A lot of crashes, a lot of ambulances and people being stretchered off, after they had over-cooked it going downhill and stacked it into a wall or ditch. All rather sobering.
When we go to the foot of the Tourmalet it started to rain. Just steady, solid rain. I was wet through pretty fast, the shower proof jacket simply was not what I needed. I chatted with a few people who seemed to be in good spirits and felt ok. I had a couple of mechanical issues – I was pedalling along quite happily and there was a clang as something fell off the bike onto the road, and the chain locked up. It turned out to be nothing more than a plate that sits on the chain stay and protects the carbon frame from getting damaged if the chain comes off on the inside of the ring. So I retrieved the piece, a couple of old French boys decided that my bike was fine, and off I went. I also could not get the chain to seat properly on the two or three middle cogs of the cassette, in either large or small chain ring. Probably a result of the crash a couple of weeks ago. I stopped at a Mavic station and they had a quick look but ended up just carrying on without any adjustment. (Not that I needed those gears especially, as I was either in the highest or lowest for most of the route).
The first section of the climb is long fairly straight roads of about 8%, surrounded by forests with the occasional avalanche shelter. Just turned the cranks, steady suffering, and tried to keep my head together. There were people walking. A guy was pushing what looked like a top end Cipollini and there were all kinds of folks (as well as me) in trouble. I can’t really capture the pain and misery of that section – just wet and miserable and hurting. Finally I reached the feed station about 4km from the summit – the forest ends and there is a ski station. I crammed down cheese baguette and Ritz crackers and filled my bottles. I was shaking so much that I knew I needed to carry on as soon as possible. I should have had some gels, but I just did not think about it.
The last climb to the top is exposed and has wild ponies, as well as mad folks camping for the TdF coming through. Steep 9.5% roads with sharp switchbacks. Snow on the top of the mountain. Other people in Lycra and pain. And finally the top, in cold fog and soaked to the skin.
I had planned to just carry on (and I now wish that I had), but I stopped and ducked into the café to buy a hot chocolate. I was feeling pretty dizzy was shaking so much I was struggling, and needed something to sort myself out. I came out three minutes later and that’s when the gendarme appeared.
We were told to leave our bikes against the wall, and eventually were packed onto coaches. There were a lot of people, in a real mix of conditions, and we picked up quite a few more as we went down the mountain. I was cold and wet through and miserable.
People have said that they closed the mountain early because of the conditions. People have told me that it was the worst conditions they have ever seen on an Etape. People have said that the 40km downhill was utterly freezing and dangerous. People have said that I still should be proud of the fact that I got to the top of the Tourmalet. If I had pressed on could I have made it? The descent off the hill would have been even colder, and the roads were very dangerous by that stage.
In the last three weeks I have had a chest infection and antibiotics; a second serious bike crash; and last week a massive outbreak of what seemed to be gout. I could not even put my bike shoes on until 72 hours before the event
A combination of injury, illness and work have cocked up my training, but the real problem was a lack of will on my part. I simply did not want it enough, and no one is to blame for that except me.
So; lessons learned (in no particular order):
1) Pack for the conditions. Even though it was worse than usual, it is always going to be bloody cold at the top of the mountains. Layers, overshoes and a decent waterproof are required.
2) Find a training buddy / ride club that I can spend time with for motivation and group riding
3) Put the hours in; you can’t blag an event like that and I had never been up a mountain nor had enough miles in my legs.
4) Figure out how I manage work / family / training to achieve attainable targets.
I am massively massively f**ked off with myself.