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! 🙂

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.”

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!

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.

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!