Author Archives: Serge Bardot

A long Limousin weekend – The return of Supawal

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When my brother Supawal and I get together it’s always the same – excessive! We drink too much, eat too much, play music too loud, and ride our bikes until we can hardly stand. Why? well it could be because neither of us will admit to being tired/full/pi55ed, or it could be because it’s tradition, but actually it’s because we just do.

Supawal builds his HummerThursday afternoon – we picked Supawal up from Limoges airport. Within a couple of hours he’d eaten, put his bike together, and we headed off towards Congnac le Foret in the autumn sun. Mostly tarmac on the way out, then trails to the top of the forest. From the high point to St Cyr is about 5km, slightly downhill all the way. On through to St Auvent where we went down the rocky descent that leads to the pont ancien (old bridge). A bit tricky in places as the dappled sunlight on the autumn leaves hid the rocks. Carla decided that she’d done enough and set off for home. I pursuaded Supawal that we should do a quick loop in the forest of Rochechouart. We’d done two and a half hours by the time we swooped back through L’Age and onto the final climb. Naturally, we rode it hard.

Supawal rails it!Friday – With a big ride in the Monts de Blond planned we were up early. Van packed, breakfasted, and gone. Just the two of us today. The route I had in mind would take us down the north side of the hills, along a shelf, and up to the old chapel above Vaulry. However, as we drove up to park near Boscartus we found ourselves driving out of the early morning sun and into the mist. It was cold! A quick change of plan, and we were rattling down the rocky desents back towards the sun.

Supawal was riding his Hummer with Rock Shox Revalations set at about 120, he was hoooooning effortlessly down the descents. I was riding my Epic, doing my best to keep up in a ragged sketchy sort of style!

We’d been out for a couple of hours before we climbed back up to the van to eat some lunch. By now the mist had lifted, and it was glorious, not too hot, just perfect riding weather. I was gonna save some of my lunch to eat after our ride, but in the blink of an eye I’d scoffed the lot!
Back on the bikes, down the north side, and along the shelf. It’s fairly straight forward in a rocky rollercoaster sort of way, but it’s hard. By the time we reached the old chapel I could tell that Supawal was tiring.

We raced down the hillside towards Rousset. I’m on the front, I know the trail a little. Supawal is banging on my back wheel. I know there’s a tight left with a huge rut and rocks hidden under the leaves. I’m fighting hard to not fall into it. Supawal can’t see it, and just hammers on. I make it around the corner, but only just. Supawal manages to miss my back wheel, but only just! We laugh.

Traversing now, up and down along the south side. Supawal is spent, but with four and a half hours done we’re back at the van. We’ve had a great day out.

Supawal gets his legs zapped with the CompexLater that evening I put the Compex on Supawal’s legs in the hope that a miracle will happen.

Saturday – a gentle ride around the chemins south of Rochechouart. It’s one of my favourite rides, it goes straight from home, and takes a couple of hours. There’s no big hills, it’s easy riding, and is best taken at a fairly brisk pace. Supawal seems to be going fairly well at first, Carla is out with us, and we’re both sitting on his wheel. Carla has had enough by Rochechouart and loops back home. With Carla gone Supawal’s strength deserts his and we’re crawling along. I believe that Supawal believes that chewy bars can fix any amount of fatigue. He eats all that he’s carrying, then starts on dodgy crab apples! We’re home in three.
Champers anyone?

Sunday – It’s 8am and we’re a little hungover and signing on at the 12th Randnnee des Deux Eglises at Champiniers et Reilhac. It’s 48kms for us. The terrain is a little gentler in this area, and I’m expecting an easier ride. Supawal is just looking to get round. Carla is the only woman doing the 48km option. There’s no ‘grande depart’ as such, but we’re on our way just after 9am, it’s chilly, but looks like it’s going to be another glorious day.

Not long after the start Carla gets cross rutted, hooks a bramble, and crashes. It’s a soft landing and she’s back on the bike straight away. She doesn’t crash very often. The last one I can remember was on the Malverns in 1993!

A couple of French riders come through. “See you at the finish”, says Carla in a sort of ‘Off you go and leave us in peace’ sort of way. I do as I’m told. Given free rein, with the bit between my teeth, I gallop off (prrrrppp), and in no time at all I get myself into a battle with some other like minded idiots. It’s great, and we hammer along as if our lives depended on it. Stopping only at the second Ravitalment long enough to fill my bottle and take some kit off, I hammer on. The circuit is a lot harder than I expected, but it’s got some excellent whoopee stuff. The last few kilometers are pure agony/bliss and I’m back in two and a half hours. Carla is next home, Supawal arrives some time later riding a bike with a very short chain and carrying a pocketful of chain links.

Stream crossing in the Monts de BlondMonday – We’re pretty much biked out now, but it’s Supawal’s last day, and the sun is shining. Monts de Blond again!!!?? Yes, of course 😉 A loop of the lakes near Arnac, a visit to the Rupestre Oratoire (cave paintings, chapel), a rock of the rock (huge megalith that can be rocked). We stop at the restaurant in Blond where we’ve never been served yet ‘cos it’s always busy, we ride on to ‘La Belle Equipe’ bar in Montrol Senard where we have excellent coffee, and the lovely waitress gives us a free cake (pour vous forte) for our strength.

All to soon it’s time for the last blast of the day from Peyrelade down across the rocks and on toward Arnac. Supawal takes the lead, and despite being totally biked out manages to launch himself into the air at every available opportunity down the final descent. That evening we recount the highlight of the weekend whist drinking too much. Because we can 🙂

Supawal by the lake

La Souterraine – St Goussard VTT rando

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It’s in La Creuse so you know it’s gonna be tough. 90 gruelling kms with big climbs, big descents, big rocks, big ruts, mud, sun, farmyard dogs, wild goats and a couple of tractors! This was the first running of a new event, and around 150 riders turned up to take it on.

At the 8am start I spied ‘me old mates’ Spesh and ROC from the sharp end of the Mandragore, so I can guess what’s coming. The start will be a bit frantic, then it’ll settle down with technical sections taken at full tilt, and easier sections or tarmac taken at leisure.

The promoting club have put a bunch of youths on the front, for photo purposes, amazingly enough they seem more interested in being photographed than racing, and they do a good job of blocking until we get out of sight. With no one to see, there’s a somewhat rough removal of the youths, and it’s ‘game on’. The pace becomes frantic.

“If I can just weather the storm, just hang on until they settle, I’ll be OK”, I tell myself. But I’m struggling and I feel like shit. This is hard. After a while, a group of around 8 riders is established at the front, and I’m there, but only just……and who’s turning the screws? You guessed it, Spesh and ROC. Why do they climb so fast to then not push on over the top? I dunno, I just suffer.

By the first ravitalment we are down to 5. The tower above St Goussard looms in the distance high above us. There’s a lot of climbing to do. By the second ravitalment high in the hills at 60kms we are down to 4, with me dangling off the back by 10 seconds. I force feed myself as fast as I can to make sure I don’t get left behind. I fill my bottle, my pockets, and lube my chain.

As we ride away my legs complain. I spin a low gear trying to be kind. There’s a rider in green on a Specialized Epic he takes the lead on the descents that follow. Dropping like a stone, riding like a nutter, he blows his front tyre out. I’m relieved! Spesh and ROC are no slouches on the descents, but I can just about stay with them. Over the next kilometers I’m dropped on the climbs, gapped on the descents, but manage to claw my way back on in between.

I just can’t go any faster, but I have so much base fitness that I’m sure I won’t slow down. I’m hoping Spesh and ROC will. With three and a half hours gone I notice that they don’t seem to be moving away so fast on the climbs, and just like at the Mandragore I notice that ROC gets frustrated at steep technical climbs. I don’t see it as a glimmer of hope, I’m just thankful that it slows his pace.

At the final ravitalment with 15kms to go. I know that if I stop, I’ll struggle to get going again. Spesh seems to be having trouble deciding where to lean his bike, he looks rough. I just fill my bottle and go. I’m thinking I can ride a little easier on my own, and they’ll catch me anyway.

Riding at my own pace, I eat a little, drink, and I start to feel OK. I start to push on. Now, the course marking isn’t the best I’ve seen, and I don’t want to miss any turns. A couple of times it crosses my mind that I could move markers so that I won’t be caught. That’s baaaaaaad, and I don’t. I make a couple of little mistakes, but nothing that costs me more than a few seconds, and I reckon Spesh and ROC will do the same anyway.

Over four hours on the clock, I aint bin caught, and now I have aspirations of being first rider home. It can’t be much further, and on every crest I’m scanning the skyline for La Souterraine. I climb into a small village, there’s no arrows, i’ve gone wrong! Merde! As I look back down the valley I can see a lone rider heading my way. I turn back in the hope that I’ll find the arrows before he does, but I don’t. It’s ROC, we back track together.

Back on track with a couple of minutes wasted I notice another rider approaching. It’s the Epic rider who blew his front tyre out. My hopes of being first rider home are dashed. We’re on the outskirts of La Souterraine, and sensing the finish Epic pushes on hard, ROC goes after him, I’m hanging on the back. A stroke of luck, the run in to the finish is the same one as was used for the Grand Traverse Limousin in May. I half remember it, it’s very fast, with a nasty bend somewhere. Epic is descending like a total nutter again, were going damn fast. Debris flys up from Epic’s wheels as he brakes hard and turns right, ROC can’t make it and crashes off the trail. Yep, nasty bend that, nearly crashed there myself in earlier in the year! 😉

Down to just the two of us, I’m right on him. We come to a road crossing. No marshals. Epic jumps across the road between a car and a van. Bloody mad! The van driver is furious. A safe gap in the traffic I take up the chase. Epic has a few bike lengths on me now. As we ride around the edge of the lake to the finish he thinks it’s in the bag. I put my head down and sprint. Epic spots me at the last minute. We cross the line together! First riders home. It wasn’t a ‘race’ anyway was it. 🙂

A shower in the ‘stade’ then repas. The food is laid out in such a way that I’m confused as to where to start. I ask. “First”, says the nice madame, “would you like a beer?”……. what an angel. The cold beer is like nectar….

Going downhill fast, but not quite fast enough!

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Carla in action on a rock strewn descent in the Monts de BlondPicture the scene – Carla is in front and we’re hooning down a rock-strewn descent in the Monts de Blond. We’re going fast, very fast, and I’m struggling to keep up!

How did this come to be? – Well, just lately Carla has been getting frustrated with her ability to ride some of the rocky descents, so I’ve been trying to help. I’ve gone through the usual things like not trying to read each individual rock, looking further ahead at the bigger picture, holding some speed, braking on the easier bits to set up for the tougher bits then letting go and so on. We’ve even stopped at tricky sections for closer inspection and analysis. I’ve shown Carla what I would do, then she’s tried it for herself. This seems to be working. In fact, it seems to be working too well.

Also, Carla is usually happy to just let me lead, and enjoy the ride, she never really takes much notice of where we are, or where we are going. But just recently she’s found herself wishing she knew where she was. Just for safety it would be better if she had some idea, then if we should have a problem, she’d have a chance of getting home, getting help, etc. So with this in mind I’ve been encouraging Carla to take the lead on some of the routes that we ride more often so that she’ll learn them.

Back at the scene – Like I said, we’re going fast, Carla looks relaxed, she’s cruising. As we come into a rocky section I hit a rock which shoves me offline, just as I recover I hit another, a sketchy moment follows then I’m back on track. I’ve lost ground on Carla, so on an easier section I’m out of the saddle sprinting to catch up. Into the next rocky section and I’m all over the place! Carla is still cruising, and pulling away. We’re almost at the bottom, and riding on the ragged edge I manage to stay upright arriving about 10 seconds down. I don’t think she noticed! 😉

In my defence – I was on my hardtail, Carla was on her full-sus. My front tyre was a little hard, I let some air out shortly after.

ROCC Rando

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The Grand Depart of the ROC Rando
Last weekend was the Rochechouart Olympic Club’s Randonnee. The weather was perfect, and the trails were in top condition. Almost 400 riders turned up for the early morning start. As we rode away from the ‘plan d eau’ the mist was still swirling around, but a warm sunny day was on the cards.
We opted for the 46km route which took in trails heading out in the general direction of Presignac. Now some of the trails I already knew, but I learned some excellent new ones that I can integrate into my rides around the area. Can’t wait to try them out on someone! 🙂

L’Ecureuil – La Souterraine

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Got a shirt and a trophy.Did the “Squirrel” cyclo-sportive last weekend up in the Creuse. That’s 160kms in 4hrs 38mins at an average speed of 34.5 kph which was good enough to get me home in 49th position, 3rd in category. It was a fantastic event with around 1500 riders starting altogether. The pace was frantic for the first 30k then it was fast!!!

The early 08:15 start meant being on the start line well before 8. The sun wasn’t up, and in the shadows it was very chilly, but the forecast was for a warm sunny day. As we queued up to get into starting pens the smell of embrocation, faltulent bike riders, and the adjacent farmyard mixed to give a heady odour. My number 468 put me in pen three (200 per pen), it looked a helluva long way to the front, but a hulluva lot further to the back.

Race numbers are allocated on a first come first served basis, so that means a few dodgy riders could be ahead. Although, those who are switched on enough to get their entries in early are generally gonna be switched on riders I could see one or two that had a look about them. Incidentally ‘me ol’ mate’ Paul Gibson sporting dossard 61 was well toward the front. 🙂

Unlike the La Limousine that I did earlier in the year where the commentator whipped the riders into a frenzy before letting them loose, the Squirrel started in silence. With about 5 mins to go the music and commentary stopped, no anouncement was made, riders were shuffling up filling in spaces, and we were away.

It’s hard trying to move up ‘cos everyone is trying to do it. I’d make a few places here and there, but then I’d loose a few places. The pace was fast, and as we concertina into bends we have to sprint like mad coming out of them. I’ve decided that although we have a long way to go I’m gonna ‘give it loads’ for the first hour to see if I can get to the front.

We hit a few ramps, and some of the big lads go backwards. I’m on the right, I’m on the left, I’m in the middle, I’m even on the grass! this is not a place for the faint-hearted. Slowly making progress, it takes me around 30minutes to work my way up to Paul. My legs are stinging a bit as we start the biggest climb of the day. At first it’s chaos, but as the climb starts to bite gaps start to appear. I reckon that if I don’t make it to the front before the top of the climb I won’t make it to the front.

I’m breathing very hard, the needle’s hit the stop and I’m red lining. It’s hard, and it hurts. But, I’m still moving forward, concentrating hard on holding form. 1km to go to the summit, just a few minutes more, 500m to go, blimey, there’s even a crowd of supporters.

Over the top and away. I’m still not at the front, but I’m tantalising close, I can see them on the road about 30seconds ahead. Hoping that they’re going to be coasting the descent I slap it in the big ring and pedal. I’m not the only one, there’s four of us chasing like mad in a now or never dash to get on before it’s too late. We’re going damn fast, but so are they. As they hit the next climb we scramble onto the back.

Golden rule – when you make it back to the bunch don’t sit on the back, move up as soon as possible. I wonder how fast theyre gonna go on the climb. It’s OK, not to bad at all. Hey, I’m comfy, I move up. There’s the motorbikes. I’ve made it, or at least I think I have. Almost two hours done.

The next two hours are bliss. I have time to eat, drink, and enjoy the fabulous scenery. The warmth of the sun just adds to the pleasure as we bowl along through the beautiful French countryside. In the pretty little villages people cheer us along. We use all the road. There’s no traffic for us. One of the motorcycle outriders even fetches bottles for us. It don’t get much better than this, I feel great. Four hours done.

I’m starting to take note of who’s in our group. We are about thirty strong, and I’m looking to see how many ‘Gs’ there are. That’s how many riders in the same category as me, they’re the ones I need to beat. There’s at least 6. I know the run in to the finish is fairly flat, but I’m thinking we have at least one climb left out of La Celle Dunoise. I’m not wrong.

It’s a tough climb and there’s a few riders putting pressure on. There’s also a few tired legs and gaps appear. A strong looking rider makes a move, I go after him, he’s piling it on, I’m looking for help, 5 of us go clear over the top. I roll through and put in a turn, as do a couple of the others. We have a good gap, I’m the only G, I want this to work, but there’s a lack of commitment. We’re there just off the front. We are caught.

A sign says 6k to go. It’s a big road, we’re going fast, things are getting a bit twitchy. At 3k things are twitchier still. There’s a big roundabout ahead, we’re going left, all hell breaks loose. From riding 10-12 abreast we’re now funneled into a tiny lane hardly wide enough for 5. A little group clip off, I wanna go after them but I can’t get through. There’s much banging of elbows and shouting. 1k to go, we’re in the outskirts of La Souterraine.

I don’t do bunch sprints, but having come this far, and worked this hard to be here, I ain’t backing down. The road widens slightly, and I’m going down the left-hand side. I’m just about on the tarmac, there’s no kerb, there’s lots of potholes, and there’s a few spectators having to jump out of the way. There’s a G a few bike lengths up and I’m gaining, I pass him. A sharp right, and there’s the finish. With my elbows out as far as they’ll go, chewin’ on the handlebars I give my all. It’s madness!

The madness doesn’t end there either, after we’ve crossed the line we’re squeezed into single file by the barriers to get our chip read. There’s riders trying to make a place or two. I find myself doin’ as much shoutin’n’shoving as the rest. As the official reads my chip I relax and thank them. Carla is waiting just a few feet away with a cold beer!!!

It turns out that I never made it to the front after all. Turns out there was another group of around twenty who I never saw. The winning G was in that group. Frustratingly the second place G has the same finish time as me. I never saw him. So I’m third G, 49th overall.

The Repas (post race meal) is excellent, and as usual there’s wine. An excellent day in the saddle, I’m tired but happy, slightly drunk on wine, I feel great. It don’t get much better than this. How did Paul get on? Best ask him yourself.

Sometimes it just ain’t meant to be…

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Like in the road race at Arnac le Poste…
It’s a straight forward course but a dodgy finish. I don’t want to be in a bunch sprint, I’d like to get things sorted a lot sooner than that, but, I’m struggling to see where I can make a sucessful escape. On the second of six laps there’s a flurry of attacks and counter attacks and three of us go clear. One of the three is a big bloke, he looks like a sprinter. I’m thinking that he’ll eat me alive if he makes it to the finish with us. As we climb the drag back up into the town I go to the front and apply some pressure. I’m going hard to test the big fella. As we roll through the narrow street into town he’s a good few bike lengths back. So that’s OK then! 🙂

Out of town, the three of us regrouped and working well. A quick glance back, no sign of the bunch. I think we’ve cracked it, and I’m feeling good. Bang! and my back tyre is flat!!!! 🙁

Like next day in the road race at Roussac…
Where on earth did they find a circuit that’s downhill all the way around? OK, I know it can’t be really, but it feels like it. How’s a man supposed to escape here? I don’t do bunch sprints remember. There a few attacks, and I attack a few times, but nothin’ doin. Then, after a flurry of attacks two riders drift off the front. Now, there’s at least four Nantiat riders, and it’s not one of theirs. There’s at least three Nieul riders, and it’s not one of theirs. Surely they won’t let them go. But they do. I make repeated attacks, but I’m shadowed, and I ain’t towing the bunch.

The two stay away, there’s a bunch sprint for third (I don’t do bunch sprints), and I go home unplaced, disappointed and frustrated…

Sometimes it just ain’t meant to be…

Second French Road Race win!!!

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I can’t believe I got the chance to win again. This time at Fromental. Here’s how it went…
The early 5 man break.
On the first climb there’s a break of four going clear. I jump across. We’re working, but we’re not working really hard, yet we still go clear. At the end of the first lap we have 25seconds. I’m just tapping through trying to go unnoticed. There’s two St Junien riders, two from another club, and me. One of the St Junien contributes nothing, he looks like he’s only just hanging on anyway, so I don’t worry about him. The other St Junien rider looks strong, but it’s the two from the other club that look the bigger danger.

The laps go by, now we’re on lap 4 with two to go. The two stronger riders have started putting in soft attacks to see who’s got the legs. I’m feeling good, but playing it cool. There’s a climb around the back of the course, not long, but long enough and steep enough to make legs sting. One of the stronger riders puts in a proper attack, his mate, sitting second in line, sits up. I jump hard, and chase, we are away.

Now there’s just the two of us, we’re motoring, and for the first few minutes I’m thinkin’ we’ve cracked it, but then I get the feeling that my ‘friend’ is not giving his all. What’d’ya know, here comes his buddy! Now there’s me, and the two of them.

On the next lap they mess me about. If I’m on the back, one will let a gap go, If I’m in the middle, the one behind attacks, and if I’m on the front, I’m doin all the work. I decide that working hard is preferable to constant attacks so I spend most of the time on the front going fast enough to keep them happy. I’ve got plenty of miles in my legs, I dont mind.

Out onto the last lap. With about 3 km to go I put in three hard attacks one after the other, but I can’t shake them. This is gonna be tricky. With 1 km to go, I’m on the front, and I swing across to get off the front. One rider rolls through then stalls, while the other attacks. I’m having to back up around one wheel to chase the other. But I’m being held in, as the blocking rider brakes hard forcing me toward the grass!

In trying to give his team mate a hand he’s given me the wind up I need, a red mist comes up. I come to an almost stop to get around his back wheel then I jump hard to chase after his mate. I catch him with 500metres to go, I go straight past, meanwhile the blocking rider is chasing me. There’s a slight ‘S’ bend into the finish straight, I make sure I use all the road, through the final dip, out of the saddle, and sprint…… Gotcha’s 5 lengths clear… take that punk!!!

I’m directed off the finish into a little side street where I try to catch my breath whist trying not to throw up. That was hard!

First French road race win!

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A baking hot afternoon at Lussac Les Eglises. 7 laps on an undulating course to give 54km.

Three riders attack from the gun, but it’s more ‘dog let off the lead’ syndrome than a real attempt, and they are caught on the first hill. I’m right up near the front as I don’t want to miss anything. As we hit the steepest of the climbs, towards the end of the lap, the rider on the front gets out of the saddle and goes hard, I’m right on his wheel, so instinctively I do the same. He goes very hard, and by the top of the climb he has about 10 metres on me. I glance around to see if anyone is bothered, and there’s no one there!

I press on, and catch the attacker, I ride straight to the front to show him that I’m willing to work and take a long hard pull. We work together, and in no time at all we are out of sight. Then it all starts to go horribly wrong. Over the next few laps my escape partner proves very difficult to work with. Everytime we come to a climb he finds it necessary to show me how strong he is and sprint up it, leaving me to make up the gap. When I catch him he slows, leaving me to go through and do the major share of the work. Everytime we go through the finish he sprints past me to go through first.

I try talking to him, and suggesting that we work together, but it makes no difference. I can’t sus whether he’s an idiot, or whether he’s so cock sure of winning that he doesn’t care. Whatever it is, it’s winding me up. It continues, a pattern emerges. Each climb, he’ll sprint by for about thirty pedal turns, then he’ll ease, wait for me, and expect me to work. The laps go by, amazingly at the start of the last lap we’re still away, with a good lead.

As we leave the town for the last time, I’m on the front riding hard. I make it as difficult as I can for my ‘friend’. On to the first climb, here he comes, sprinting by, only this time I’m out of the saddle shadowing him. As usual, he eases and sits. I hit him as hard as I possibly can, giving it all I’ve got. I crest the climb, sit down and mash on. I don’t look around, no point, no need, I can tell from the reaction of the two lads on the quad/lead vehicle that I’ve got a gap!!!

Now, I’m giving 100%, trying to get as much distance as I can before the last climb. I use all of the road hugging the verges to keep the distance as short as possible, and also to try and get out of sight. The lads on the quad are doing a great job keeping the road clear as we fly along. A sharp corner, I glance under my arm, he’s nowhere to be seen. Onto the last climb, for the last time, out of the saddle, my legs are stinging. A quick glance back, he’s not even on the climb! I push on, less than I km to the finish, I can afford to ease a little and enjoy the moment. I’ve done it. My first French road race win! 🙂

Megavalanche!!!

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Here’s how they describe it on the Mega website…

“Neither Cross-Country, nor Down Hill but a real discipline. Racing MEGAVALANCHE require many skills which are coming from MTB fundamentals, it means: strong, dexterity, endurance, sliding sensations, knowledge of how to manage effort and to fix well you bike, riding spirit, trajectories, flying sections, braking …

Cross Country riders and Down Hill ones will be on the same line on equal terms. Some will use their athletic power and endurance, during an hour of effort and others their technical skills on every trajectories and also go fast into tricky sections, jumps and so. But at the end everyone will fell sliding motions, using wonderful trails.”

On the glacier in the Mega

Here’s a run down…..
You start off in the snow on the glacier at Pic Blanc high above Alpe d Huez. The altitude is over 3000 metres, and even going downhill you’re breathing hard. Hanging off the back of the saddle using one foot as a ski, riders crashing everywhere. After the glacier you’re into boulder fields, with some big steps and drop offs (the most dangerous are signed). Some off them were way beyond me. After a couple of miles you are into fast single track on a narrow shelf, with the odd rocky section to keep you on your toes. Next there’s some tricky steep switchbacks. As you get nearer to Alpe d Huez the gradient eases a little, but not the speed. There’s one or two rises where you can make up time on riders on DH rigs.

Down through Alpe d Huez to the roar of the crowds! Straight out the other side onto a very fast section (uphill on your right), as you traverse around and down the mountain. If you went off the edge of the trail here you could fall hundreds of feet (I kid you not). Following a steep climb of around 200metres that saw most riders pushing you’re into superb single track with a mixture of fast flowing sections, steep switchback sections, rocks, roots. A couple of bus stops that almost stand the bike on it’s nose. It’s hard work, some riders just stop by the side of the track to take a breather!

Into the final few kms and it’s incredibly fast. The dappled sunlight under the trees combined with the dust mean that you can’t see a lot of the roots and rocks, so they can’t hurt you. ha ha! Eventually you drop out into the main street in Allemonte then sprint for the finish.

It took me 1:33:28. The winner did it in 48mins!!!!!!!

Loads of people crashed. Crashing in the snow wasn’t too bad as you slid, and as long as you didn’t slide into rocks, or get hit by someone, you were OK. I saw lots of people with slings and bandages on who crashed in the qualifier and couldn’t make the race day.

My stock Kona Coiler Deelux was great, fitted with Maxxis Minions
and DH tubes. Lots of people puntured on the rocks.

It was Mega!!!! 🙂

Thanks to…
Carla for coming with me. Yeah, I could have gone on my own, and she insisted that she was only coming with me so that she wouldn’t have problems trying to get a broken me + a van back from the Alps, but it meant I ate properley, could find things, and got where I was supposed to be on time.

Si ‘Superfly’ Paton for sorting me out with some ‘proper’ tyres and tubes. I just couldn’t believe how much difference they made.

All the people on singletrackworld that helped me decide to go do it!

Sereilhac semi Nocturne

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My first actual proper road race in over three years tonight. 35 laps of a 1.4km circuit around a small French town. Sprint every 5 laps. Two dodgy corners, one with recent road repairs and gravelly bits, one with manholes and awkward camber.
Lined out through the start/finish.
About 50 riders, it’s a UFOLEP 3rds and juniors. Those of you who race will know that 3rds and juniors can be a bit dodgy, so resolved to stay near the front. BTW cost 3euro to enter on the line, and you get a coke, a chewy bar and a pen!!!

Called up onto third line at start. Got up within the first 10 riders and stayed there as best I could. Had a few digs early on, nothin doin. Two riders escape about 20 laps in, I have a couple of goes to get across but cant do it on my own.

There’s no lap counter, just the bloke on the PA shouting at us in rapid French. Carla is there shouting to me in English, but there’s so many other wives, girlfriends, brothers, dads, etc also shouting that I haven’t got a clue what lap we are on.

Eventually I sus that there’s 7 laps to go. The two escapees have built up a two minute lead, we wont see them again. 6 to go and four of us get a gap. We work hard, but the Nantiat rider is not happy with the Nieul rider, and amongst all the shouting and swithching I forgot what lap we are on!!! Doh, Curse my old stoopid brain!

I reckon we have one to go, surely they’ll ring the bell this time, the St Junien rider is on the front, I know he’s gonna make it hard up through the finish, and I glue up to his wheel and brace my self. We fire up through the finish, and as we cross the line everyone cheers, and he sits up. It’s the finish! I’m 4th!
No bell!

So, a success, and a cock-up at the same time. Whichever, it was great to be back racing, and I thoroughly enjoyed it. 🙂