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.

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. 🙂

“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.”

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 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.

Lead 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.

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 🙂

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.

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.

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!

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.

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! 😉

Gu̩ret РLa Souterraine 60kms

After a great nights sleep it’s an early start for the final stage. Crawling out of my sleeping bag I feel pretty good, nowhere near as stiff and tired as I was expecting. It’s now 6am, and what happens in the next hour and a half is nothing short of amazing. By 7:30am over 250 riders have been fed, their bags packed, and the hall cleared. We joke that there must be a basketball match on at eight.

We are on our bikes rolling along in a neutralised sort of way through the town of Guéret enroute to the start. Our plan today? Every man for himself! After two days of waiting for the ‘old fellas’ Ben is keen to race near the front. I’m keen to measure myself also as this is my first big race for years. The obligatory speech from the organiser and we’re on our way.

It’s uphill out of the town, but it’s not too bad as it climbs then eases then climbs again. The pace is high, and it’s hard to move up. On the higher ground the terrain is more rolling. I’ve managed to claw my way onto the back of a group of ten riders being dragged along by a couple of engines. I cannot believe how fast we are going as the two engines batter against each other. Why? I know not, maybe it’s personal.
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Bourganeuf – Guéret 60kms

Right, day two… after a reasonable night sleep I’m awake on a half-deflated air bed, dying for a pee. It’s 6:30, and there are riders up already fiddling and fussing. Now breakfast isn’t until 08:00, and the race don’t start until 10:00, so what they are doin’ is beyond me. I go for a pee, then get back into bed to watch. Conserving energy seems like the sensible thing to do. OK, some of them are preparing camelbak type things with powders etc. Dudes, there’s revitalment stations every 20km! Why would you need 1.5ltrs of water strapped to your back?

Breakfast is continental style, croissants, coffee, cereal, juice, biscuits, fruit, bread. Followed by…..a big dump of course! 😉 As I put my fresh cycling kit on and pack my bag it occurs to me that I don’t feel too bad. Bag loaded onto the camion, I’m ready. Carla’s voice in my head, “you should be spinning those legs by nowâ€?. So I ride around outside in an easy gear to loosen my legs. “Have you done any stretching?â€?, I go through a short stretching routine, then begin to warm up more purposefully.

I notice some of the “fast boysâ€? checking out the first kilometer or so. I join them. A flat start 500m dash, then a left-hander onto a short steep tarmac ramp (probably a minutes worth), then a right across the top of a field, and into singletrack. I reckon It’s gonna be a painful mad dash, might even throw breakfast back up…. Continue reading →

The GTL is a three day mountainbike stage race for teams of four across the mountains in the Creuse France. Now in it’s 5th year, I first heard of it two years ago, and this year I finally got the chance to ride it.

Our team consisted of Pete Harris (Pearce Cycles), Phil Roach (Rugby Velo), Ben Roach (Rugby Velo), and me. We were registered as Pearce Cycles/Rugby Velo, but as the days went on we became known as “Equipe Anglaise”, more on that later.
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