London to Paris

“The London-Paris Cycle Tour 2007 finished in Versailles, Paris on the 30 June 2007. Completing just under 600 km in the three days, the ride was hailed a great success by ex professionals Sean Kelly and Johan Museeuw. Riders from all over the world attended; with countries such as the USA, Australia, South Africa well represented.”

London to Paris flags

It was fantastic, thanks to everyone who sponsored me. I enjoyed every single turn of the pedals, even the ones in the rain. There was never any doubt in my mind that I would make it, and although at times the pace was incredibly fast there were times when it wasn’t.

Here’s some of the things that stick in my mind…

Sean Kelly – to ride alongside the legend was priceless. Sean entertained the peleton with his antics throughout the three days. He had a knack of teleporting himself from one place in the bunch to another.

Johan Museeuw –Johan could only make the first day, it was great to meet him. How many riders can say that they were towed back up to the bunch by Johan Museeuw? Well, around four, ‘cos that’s how many times the great man went back for people.

Straight talkin’ Aussies, and South Africans – they tell it like it is, no offence meant. “Just ‘cos you’re ridin’ like a w4nker and I told you, no need to get upset mate!�.

French motorcycle outriders – brilliant! How do they ride standing up looking backward in traffic with such skill? They ride so close, but you feel safe, knowing that they are looking after you leaving you to concentrate on riding.

The rain on day two – Any fool can ride properly when they are fresh, on a nice day. But when it’s raining, and you’re tired, that’s when it counts, that’s when you find out who can ride. It was an experience to see how the pros and ex pros handle it. Me? I stayed as close to the front as I could and hung on. Made it onto the grass on one wet corner, but stayed up!

So many other memorable things from the three days, the effortlessness of bowling along on French roads in the heart of a fast moving bunch, the camaraderie of the riders, the friendliness and patience of the support staff and mechanics, the speed of the breakaway I got into on the last day, the people who waved and cheered as we passed through the towns.

I had trained for months for this event, I had the miles in my legs, and for me, riding L2P was the icing on the cake, something to be enjoyed. I loved it.

La Mandragore VTT Marathon

around half distance in La Mandragore
La Mandragore VTT – that’s 100kms from Confolens to Nieul, one way, racing on unseen tracks. Yes there’s shorter options, and yes there’s a road option, and yes I know it’s my last big ride before the L2P and I don’t wanna risk an injury, but I’m doin’ it anyway!

Carla drops me off at the start, there’s hundreds of riders, this looks like a popular event. I make sure I’m right near the front for the dodgy downhill through the narrow Confolens streets start. It’s quick, lots of wheel locking and squirming tyres through the tight bends. We hit the first ramp, it’s steep, a different noise now, crashing of gears. I’ve already decided to ‘spend some’ for the first few kilometres to stay near the front. My legs are stinging, and I’m breathing hard as we crest the climb, I’m in the lead group.

A few frantic kilometres fly by. I’m in a lead group of 5 riders, two I’ve seen before…..Nantiat rider (Spesh) on a Spesh Carbon hardtail (he rode the nocturne the other night, he’s very strong), and a Rochechouart ROC rider (ROC) (I saw him race at the St Sylvestre race, he goes well)….The two I haven’t seen before are…the current FFC national junior XC champion (looks like he’s hardly trying, he’s wearing his champions yellow jersey), and another tall Nantiat rider who looks OK. I stay off the front and try to conserve energy.

A pattern evolves, everytime we are off-road the pace is frantic. Even wet muddy sections are taken at full tilt. On the tarmac sections the pace is fast, but bearable. I’m doin’ OK, but I know things are gonna get tough when we start crossing the Monts de Blond.

At the second ravitalment stop there’s some confusion as we get mixed up with a bunch of roadies. The tall Nantiat rider goes missing never to be seen again, and the champion also goes missing. The three of us carry on, things are getting tough. Spesh seems untroubled, but on the steeper climbs I’m suffering, and on the steep technical climbs ROC struggles.

Spesh builds a short lead, and ROC is getting frustrated at the technical climbs. Frequent slips, and dabs, he’s cursing a lot. In my best French I ask him if he’s “Heureux?” (happy?), and give him a big smile 😉 , “Oui oui!!!”, he says through clenched teeth.

Down a technical descent, and I can hear a bike behind, it’s the young champion, he flies by and is gone, his skill is awesome. Spesh, Roc, and I are back together. I’m suffering with cramp, and yo-yo off the back. With 10km to go the cramp down the front of my left leg won’t give and I’m force to stop and stretch. Dropped on my own I make an massive effort to get back on on the tarmac sections. A stroke of good luck, Spesh and Roc miss a turn, and I’m back on.

Down the last few kilometres I’m hanging by the skin of my teeth. Champion is well clear, Spesh and Roc are sensing the end. A short steep bank, I get out of the saddle, my legs buckle, I’m gone. I nurse myself home. Champion is first with around 5minutes to spare, Spesh is second, Roc is a close third, I’m 4th home at around 45 seconds more. Total time for me is 5hrs 10minutes. It was hard, very very hard, but I’m happy with my ride, and my free T shirt!!!

La Grande Boucle Féminine Internationale

La Grande Boucle Féminine Internationale is the womens Tour de France, and stage 2 is finishing just down the road at the Lacs de Haute Charante. My chance to go and see the worlds best women road racers in action.

The normally deserted causeway across the lake has been transformed into a 500m finishing straight complete with banners, podium, sound system, souvenir stall, and hundreds of people. The commentator tells us that the girls are around 30km away. Nicole Cooke and Priska Doppmann are off the front working hard together with a gap of 35seconds. There’s heavy showers, and as Celine Deone’s double entertains the crowd with songs I wonder if Nicole is enjoying the almost Welsh weather.

Current cycling champions of the Charente are presented for the crowds appreciation. Raymond Poulidor is there, along with a host of other cycling stars. Hey, and dont forget the mayor and the other dignified guests. All there to add weight and authenticity to the event.

Nicole Cooke after stage twoLead cars and motorbikes start to arrive, the atmoshere becomes electric. The head of the race drops onto the causeway. You can hardly see the two escapees for all the vehicules. They race toward the line. Cooke allows the higher placed overall Doppmann to take the win. No fuss, no bother, it’s teamwork, job done!

It’s over a minute before Alona Andruk brings home the bunch. OK, now it’s chaos. Riders everywhere with at least five languages going on at the same time, amonst photographers, motorbikes, helpers, coaches, and idiots like me! Oh, and a group of young French lads chasing after the girls asking if they can have their bidons.

I spot Nicole Cooke coming back along the road. Every few feet she pauses for photographers. She looks clean, fresh, and very happy. You’d never guess that shed just completed over 100km in heavy showers along rural French roads. The worlds number 1 ranked woman cyclist, what a star.
Doppman and Cooke cross the line

Hey, I’m riding with Kelly and Museeuw!!!

A while back I entered the London to Paris 3 day cycling event. When you enter you have to specify which of three groups you want to ride in. Group one being the fastest, containing all the ex-pros, group three being the slowest. I put myself down for group two.

Now as the months have gone by the organisers of the event have held training rides, and have used these as a guide to form. Because I haven’t been able to attend any of these rides I was worried that I might get misplaced groupwise. So, I sent a copy of my “Gold” certificate from the La Limousine as proof of my form. A couple of days later I got an email back saying that I had been put in group 1. 🙂 Better than a birthday!!!
So I’ll be riding with two of the toughest men that ever rode a bike, namely Sean Kelly, and Johan Museeuw, not to mention a host of other pros and ex pros. At last, I made it into the professional peleton! I’m chuffed to bits 🙂

Out with ‘Big Bird’ on a Friday night!

It’s the 10th Semi Nocture VTT Rando just down the road at Verneuil sur Vienne, they’ve got “Saucisses frites a l’arrive”, and at just 28kms it sounds like fun. I decide it’s time to take ‘Big Bird’ out for an evening.

Big Bird is my Kona Coiler. I bought her for a trip to the Magavalnche later in the year. She’s a freeride bike really, not suited to XC type stuff, but she rolls suprisingly well, she’s very comfortable, and she’s great fun.

Big Bird - she fliesSome French riders in the car park suggest that I may be over biked. Yeah, I know that. I also know that the first half of the course has a lot of downhill in it, so I line up near the front. This gives further amusement, and scoffing. I don’t mind.

Off we go. 500metres to a T junction, and suprise suprise, we turn up hill! It’s only a short climb, I hold my place, we turn right, and now it is downhill. Yaaaaaayyyyy!!!! Big Bird flies! She gains maximum speed (topped out with no big ring ‘cos I got a bash guard fitted), she soaks up the bumps, I’m flying, straight into second place.

We zig-zag through some tight wooded sections, cross some ditches, there’s a few rises, Big Bird is hard work, but I’m still there. With half distance done the climbs start. There’s a group of 5 of us now, well clear. As we fly along the valley road I know things are gonna go horribly wrong. 4 XC hardtail riders, and one idiot on a huge full susser.

My race numberI move to the front (yeah, that old tactic 😉 ), but as the ground gets steeper, I drift back, and off. I work as hard as I can to limit the damage, and I manage to get back on. In the technical section I just point and pedal making the most of Big Birds assets.

Onto the final climb. It’s long and it’s steep. The frisky lad on the S-works carbon hardtail makes his move, the others give chase, I’m dropped. 5th rider home.

Back at the car park I’m washed, and packed, Carla is back as well, as we go to get our sausages and chips we notice that the car belonging to the mockers is still there, with no sign of them. Too bad, because I wanted to tell them I’d broken a couple of spokes in my back wheel 😉

10th Bonnac Xtreme Rando VTT avec Contre la Montre

It’s the day after La Limousin, and I’m doing the rando at Bonnac La Cote. While I’m signing on I see that there is also a “chrono” option. It’s an off-road climb of the ‘Col de la Sablonnade’ against the clock. I just can’t stop myself, I sign up for it.

Here’s how it works. Riding the 40km option at “allure libre” (your own speed), you follow the red arrows. After 11km there will be a split, and those who have signed up for the chrono race up the col.

The grand depart is a fairly steady affair, so I use the first 11km to spin my legs. Suprisingly, although they have 155km of road in them from yesterday they don’t feel too bad. It’s the brain that is having trouble. I’ve forgotten my bottle, my mitts are still in the van, i’ve gone for long sleeves, and I’m far too hot. I bounce off a few rocks, that seems to bring me around a little.

This way for pain!Arriving at the start of the chrono section I find a short queue of riders waiting to start. I take a pee while I try to work out where I want to be. I don’t want to be behind riders who look slow ‘cos I might get held up, and I don’t want fast looking riders behind me as it’ll be demoralising. After a few minutes I just get in the queue anyway.

It’s a simple start. One foot on the ground, the timekeeper counts you down, and away you go for a few kilometres of pain. The faster you go, the sooner the pain ends, and if you don’t feel sick, you aint tryin hard enough, I tell myself. “3 – 2 – 1 – partez”, with only thirty second intervals between riders I can see the rider ahead as we race around the edge of a lake.

There’s some “whoopy doopy” stuff before we get onto the climb, I’m gaining on the rider in front so I’m able to use him to see which way we go. Onto the climb, he’s not far ahead. Now I’m caught by a rider who storms past, climbing like a man posessed. I can’t match that!

The ascent of the Col de la Sablonnade is agony, steep rocky sections with false flats to sap your will. I’m goin’ OK, and although I got caught my my 30second man I go on to catch 9 riders! The line comes into sight. I sprint for an imaginary one beyond it. That hurt.

There’s a feed station just a wobble away, I gulp down some juice and water. All of a sudden I feel absolutely exhausted. On the remainder of the ride I find it hard to make any pace at all, no matter because the scenery is fabulous. I stop to admire the view a few times.

Back at the start I check the results. 18th, but 3rd in >50s category!!! Not bad for a tired bloke. I’m happy with that.

La Limousine Andre Dufraisse

A 155 kilometre French cyclo-sportive, not for the faint-hearted or those of a nervous disposition. 1200 cyclists are sent 4km back from the official start line to a staged “Grand Depart” in the centre of Limoges, 15 minutes is set aside for the riders to cover the 4km back to the real start. This is done by taking 15mins off everyones finish time (hope you’re following this). So if you cover the 4km faster than 15mins you’ve bought yourself some extra time for the 155km. Got it? This explains why the first few kilometres are ridden at such a breakneck speed. Here’s how it went for me…

Although I’d sent my entry in at the last minute I got number 103. This meant that I was allowed into the 1-200 pen. There’s around 1800 cyclists altogether of which 1200 are doing the full 155km distance (there were shorter options). The cyclists were held back by a fleet of motorcycle outriders and official cars. As the final minutes are counted down the commentator whips everyone into a frenzy, and then, partez!!!!

The pace was unbelieveable, you’d have thought the finish was just around the corner, I’ve been in slower criteriums!!! It was mad, and I was in the first 200, I can’t imagine what it was like further back. Anyway, we raced up through the official start where hundreds of screaming kids had been bused in to add to the atmosphere, armed with flags and baloons, a deafening spectacle.

Out into the hills, I reckoned that the safest place to be was near the front, and I tried to move up as best I could. But, so does every other rider. 10km gone and near the bottom of a tricky descent there’s a crash, bikes and bodies everywhere, possibly 20 – 30 riders down, and some of them look bad. There’s one in particular that looks like he’s slid down the storm drain, covered from top to toe in mud. There’s shouts of “bon courage” as we pick our way through.

Up ahead I can see a split in the field. That’ll do, I spend some energy to move up. We’re climbing now, a lot, there’s riders coming backwards, riders going forwards as the climbs bite. There’s even some riders from the crash, bloodied and muddied, but back in the action. I’m near the front of the second group on the road, there’s a long long way to go. Things seem to be settling down a bit now, we’ve been riding for 40 minutes.

The kilomtres fly past, the pace remains high, there’s no shortage of workers, and glancing over my shoulder I see there’s no shortage of sitters on either. After a while I start to recognise the riders that like to climb, and the ones that like to descend (like nutters). In what seems like no time at all we’re on the climb to Bursac, the half-way point. I’m expecting a bottle from Carla at the top so I stay right near the front. The climbs are long, but not steep, and I’m enjoying them!!!

Dependable as ever, my lover is waiting for me at a perfect place. I take a bottle and some encouragement. Over the top, we race down towards Silord the village of Andre Dufraisse, as we enter the village there are placards, one for each year of Andre Dufraisse’s reign as world champion, or French champion. It’s an impressive display. There’s crowds in the village to cheer us on.

After Chateauponsac now, and we are on our way home, there’s some tired legs, and still some big hills to climb. The final big climb after Compreignac is a tough one. I’m in a group of 7 as we yo-yo back and forth false flat after false flat.

A long fast descent then a sliky smooth rollercoaster, someone flicks a switch and we tap through like pro’s. The last 30 kilometres seem effortless as we float along. A motorcycle outrider clears traffic for us as we race into the outskirts of Limoges, he is brilliant. Into the “Arrive” at Panazol we sprint for the line 🙂 what a day!!!

Statistically, I was 62nd rider home, 5th in category. I’d ridden the 155km (with 2287metres of climbing) in 04:43:59:06 with an average speed of 32.748kph.

My S-Works Roubaix had performed faultlessly, a great bike for the job. I’d got through 3 * 500ml bottles containing High 5, and eaten 1 bannana and half a jam sandwich. Oh and half a small bottle of plain water that had been handed up at a water station.

The Repas at the “Arrive” was excellent. Food always tastes better when you’ve earned it, and to top off the perfect day I met Andre Dufraisse in person. He might be a very old man now, but he’s been there, done that!

15th Ronde des Sangliers…

Ronde des Sangliers
Been looking forward to this one for a while. Why? because it takes place in the Monts de Blond, one of my favourite mountainbiking areas. By the way, Sangliers means wild boar!

The weather just lately has been awful, you might have seen something about it on the news, breaking records for rainfall, flooding, and more of the same to come. However, I’d decided that I was gonna do it “come hell or high water”……and so with bike fully prep’d for wet conditions I found myself with coffee and croissant in my belly racing away from the stade in Blond.

I got up near the front straight away to avoid the chaos that would surely ensue when we hit the first rocky climb. Judging by the crunching of gears and the swearing I could hear behind me it was the right thing to do. A french rider wearing number 13 on his shirt opened up a gap, and I chased after him. Two kilometres later we were joined by a young whippet of a rider who pushed the pace a little taking the three of us well clear.

Disaster struck for the young whippet, he puntured. Number 13 went to the front and we pushed on. The pace was fast-steady, and while no one closed on us from behind I was happy to let 13 lead the way. This seemed the sensible thing to do as some of the descents were tricky, and I felt safer letting 13 find the suprises.

I wasn’t sure if 13 would stop at the revitalment, and I was only gonna stop if he did. Luckily he did, which gave me enough time to grab a couple of bits of brioche and lube my chain. I was just about to leave when the young whippet, punture fixed, showed up. The three of us rode away together. Although the young whippet had fixed his punture I noticed that his tyre didn’t look very hard.

From the revitalment there was kilometre after kilometre of swooping downhill. Young whippet led the way 13 and I hung on as best we could. Disaster again for the young whippet/chauffard as his rear tyre blew out on a particularly rocky section. Number 13 went to the front and we pushed on.

We were now at about two thirds distance, and time was getting close when I would have to make my move on 13. We hit a long dual track drag, and I rode to the front, more to show that I was willing to work rather than to attack. To quote Paul the Painter, 13 “fell apart like a cheap watch”. By the time I crested the drag he was gone. I pushed on knowing that if young whippet had the ‘kit de reparation’ he would have his puncture fixed and be in hot pursuit.

I rode as hard as I possibly could on the climbs, went as fast as was sensible on the flats, and took it steady on the desents. All too soon, as I was enjoying the course so much, I was at the finish, first rider home on the 36km loop with 2:15 on the clock. Time for more coffee croissants, brioche, fruit.

One of the best circuits I’ve ridden, and nowhere near as muddy as I was expecting. Well worth the effort of carrying my GPS to record it so that I can take friends on it. Watch out!!! 🙂

Thanks to la guidon bellachon for a matin fantastique

Saint Laurent Les Eglises Randonnee

I should have guessed what it would be like when we had the thunderstorms the day before, or on the drive there when the early morning mist was wetter than wet. Even the relatively small turn out combined with the light drizzle didn’t drop the penny for me. When the lead motorbike set off, and the organiser waved the “grand depart” adieu something was lacking, enthusiasm. C’mon you lot! Lets go!

Keen to be away I set off after the motorbike and was never seen again! The heavy rain had taken it’s toll, mud that was worse than Bringewood in March, tractor ruts that were axle deep, and stream/river crossings that were worryingly deep. You know how when it’s muddy it’s a good idea to run through the puddles to keep your bike wet? Well that’s what I did, and it was more like steering a boat than riding a bike. I got the bike cross-rutted endless times, must have run/staggered kilometres, but once you’re wet and dirty it becomes great fun.

I nursed my bike as much as I could by running the chain as straight as possible, as using the brakes a little as I could get away with. The mud was very gritty. I rode my Stumpy hardtail, and I reckon I made the right choice, full suspension was not needed.

I took a last drink just before I crossed the edge of the field where the muck spreading was in progress!!! Wasn’t gonna drink from it after that. The nice ladies at the revitalment stations confirmed that I was first rider through, as did some of the locals in one of the villages. I pushed on.

I’d been out around an hour and a half the “arrive” came into sight, just 500m away, but then the course arrows turned us away again. Up through the village, out the other side, down down down into a steep valley with a switchback trail that was technically challenging 🙂 Back up the road from whence we came to finish. Tired and dirty, I was the first rider home.

Grand Traversee Du Limousin VTT 2007 – Debrief

On the last stage Ben rode to an amazing 9th place, and won the junior category. I was second team rider home in 31st :). I placed 9th overall in the master 2 category (FFC), but if they had a category for the over 50s I would have been second! Pete and Phil finished lower down the overall master 2 rankings, but that was due in part to the tactics we used. Overall we were 9th team, but as we were the first Equipe Anglaise (English Team) to ever enter they honoured us at the prize giving with a trophy and a huge hamper!!! Not bad for three ‘old fellas’ and a kid! You’ll find a full set of results here.

Equipe Anglaise plus Gary

It was a fantastic event, and in all the years I have ridden and raced it must rank as one of the best I have ever done.

My Bike? – I used a Specialized Epic comp with Rebas, shod with a Spesh Rockster on the front, and a Specialized Chunder on the back. Both run with tubes at 45psi. It was just right for the job, and I made the most of the rear suspension on the rocky trails. Of course I’d love an S-works carbon one for next year!!!

My Training? – I spent months training for this event, doing long rides on heavy tyres. As the event got nearer I put long rides back to back over consecutive days. I even lost weight. It felt great to line up on the start line knowing that I had the miles in my legs. Riding so strongly on the third day, maybe I could have swapped some miles for speedwork. I was expecting to be in the saddle longer each day.

Would I do it again? – Can’t wait until next year! 😉