Wednesday, July 22, 2009

Mt. Ventoux / Etape du Tour Race Report - If you're feeling good, dial it back

Each year at the start, I ask myself why the heck I’m doing this. Each year at the finish I say to myself, I love this day on the bike.

Why? There’s nothing like it. Yes, you’re riding a real stage of the tour. Yes, the terrain is as challenging as it comes (significantly harder than B2B, Triple by Pass, etc.). Ventoux almost rivaled the pain of Leadville’s Powerline climb – it just went on forever.





But, where else are 20,000 people going to be cheering you on, singing, playing accordions (?), calling you a hero?

The bike rider is celebrated in France like nowhere else. Riding a stage of the tour in July is the tops.


A Detour…
Prep day was, er, ah interesting. We went out for a ~1 hour spin, just to keep things fresh, but save energy for the next day. Eric and I headed into town for lunch at the end of the ride. I spotted a vineyard that I’d read about (Parkers number one pick).

Note to self: riding in heat and then tasting Wine does NOT lead to good decision-making. Eric and I went in to buy a case each. We met one of the most effective winemaker / salesmen I’ve ever come across. He sang Sinatra to us, called Beth on the phone, let us taste a bottle that sells for 500 Euro at the GeorgeV in Paris.




You guessed it, we walked out with heads spinning and six cases purchased. They are on their way to the states. For years I’ve been trying to invest with Eric. I was not counting on the wine business being that investment.




Back to the Etape…
This edition of the l’Etape du Tour (translated, Stage of the Tour) was the most beautiful ride I’ve ever experienced. 10,000 riders at the start. Lineup at 6a, race starts at 7a.

We climbed through olive groves, fields of lavender (surrounded by the smell of it) and vineyards to be rewarded with vistas at the top of the climbs that included the Alps (Mont Blanc and Alpe d’Huez) and the rolling valleys of Provence.

Whenever the climbing started to hurt, you could just look left and have a stunning view to take your mind off of the pain.









That helped because there was a staircase of 5 climbs over 95 miles that would deposit us at the base of Ventoux for the final push.


Most years, I’m starting to die slowly after 75 miles or so. This year,the descents were so long that you could recover well and the first 95 miles flew by in just over 5 hours. Despite it being in the mid-nineties, I felt great.

A few years ago we were at the mandatory meeting for Leadville racers and were leaning against a wall with Dave Weins. Dave has won Leadville 6 times in a row, defeating all comers including Lance.

Steve leaned over and asked Dave what advice he had for a couple of first timers. Dave looked up and smiled. He said, “if you're feeling good, dial it back.”

That turned into the mantra for this day. Rather than going out of the blocks like a mad-man, on each climb, I’d try to pin the effort at 20 watts below my threshold (about 250 watts) and just spin. In prior years, I was the guy getting passed. This year, Eric and I were doing the passing.


On the third climb, something sounding like a gunshot rang out. I looked down and my tire had blown off the rim. Eric was great (yes Steve, the man can now change a tire). The two of us got it fixed and proceeded to re-pass all of the folks that had passed us while fixing the flat.


We kept saying to each other, ‘we shouldn’t feel this good.’ I’d respond, “alright then, let’s dial it back.”


That of course would work until Eric would be passed by a blond female rider and he’d take off like a sprinter on the attack. When that happened (every 15 minutes or so!), we’d yo-yo back and forth within 10 riders of each other.

On the fifth climb, I caught two great guys from New Jersey (Pete and Will). Their first question – “where’s Eric?”

"He’s probably 10 guys or so behind me, we’ve been doing that all day, back and forth.”

Little did I know, Eric had started cramping at the bottom of the climb (yes, there’s a lesson in there for us 40-somethings. It will go unsaid here…;). We’d gone 65 miles together and now he was no where in sight.

At the next water stop, I entered the scrum with about 2000 french guys claimoring for water. I managed to grab enough for Eric and I, hoarded it over to a fence along the course. As soon as I put the bottles down on the ground, I was swarmed with riders looking to raid my stash.

“No, no, I’m waiting on a friend.”

10 minutes of fighting off the French. No Eric. 15 minutes, no Eric. 20 minutes. No Eric. I must have missed him; maybe he was in front of me? So, I headed on (and passed the water onto some not so grateful French guys).


Climbed up the last pass and then descended before Ventoux fast enough to reconnect with Pete and Will on the descent.


As we plowed towards the base of Ventoux, Pete saw his wife and he and Will stopped.
I kept going to the next water stop. It was now about 98 degrees and it took me 64 ounces of water to make it 2/3 up the climb on Friday when we previewed it. Water was going to be at a premium today.


The climb rises out of a town called Bedoin and beautiful vineyards. This year’s Tour de France is saving this stage for the 2nd to last day. Trust me, there are going to be fireworks. Set up the Tivo for Saturday morning. It’s going to be amazing.

After rising through the vineyards, the climb heads into a forest of scraggy pine. The sign reads 20.5KM to the top. The grade is unrelenting – about 9-10.5%. Constant.


Pete and I headed up together. My goal – get to within 6K from the top without stopping. At 6K, there’s a restaurant and my prize was going to be a cold Orangina sugar kick for the last 6k push.


The world was about to go into slow motion though. Pete and I were climbing and it seemed to take 10 minutes per kilometer – just dragging.

The forest was like a sauna. Now nearly 100 degrees, no wind, sun burning down. Guys around us were so dehydrated the cramps set in and guys were literally falling into the ditches. The place became like an ER – dozens of cyclists lying by the side of the road waiting for ambulances.
On the way up about 500 people were being treated by medics and 4 were helicoptered off the mountain.

Pete and I kept grinding. But, the surroundings were getting to us. I thought we’d made it to 12K from the top and we’d round a corner and we were still 15K. Then we’d climb for what seemed like 30 minutes and I thought we’d be at 10K and we were at 12K. Mentally, it was tough, but climbing with Pete (he’s a stronger climber than I am) kept me going.

One guy started to swerve in front of us. He was cramping and couldn’t get his feet out of the pedals. Finally, he gave up and just fell over into the ditch. His friend behind him laughed and said, “at least you fell into a shady spot Rich!”

At 7K to go, I looked over and saw a guy I recognized -- former TdF rider and world hour record holder Chris Boardman. Chris was standing on the shoulder over his bike, trying to recover.
A Brit pulled up next to us and said, "Hey if nothing else, we can say we dropped Chris Boardman today!"

We finally rounded the corner to the restaurant. Over the prior hour and a half, I’d talked Pete into his first Orangina. He grabbed our bottles to refill them and I headed to the bar and ordered 3 Orangina. One for him, two for me. The first one lasted about 3.5 seconds.

While I was slamming the second one, Will came around the bend and challenged us to catch him on the way to the top.

Pete took off, I stayed and savored the first cold drink in hours. I hopped on the bike a few minutes later supercharged and climbed within about 500 meters of Pete and Will.
The last 6K are in the rocks above the tree line. It’s like the surface of the moon up here (check out the video of our preview ride).
The climb was proving to be a beast. It would take us 5 hours to go 95 miles and about 2.5 hours to climb the last 12 miles.

At 1.5K from the top is the Tom Simpson memorial. Tom was leading the stage in 1967 and keeled over at this spot. He was unconscious from exhaustion. When he came to, he yelled at the medics, “Put me back on my bike!” They did, he pedaled a short distance and died. Yikes.
Not today for anybody on the hill.

The last 500 meters seriously kicks up and then really kicks up the last 100 meters. Pete’s wife had told me to hold up 7 fingers over the line (this is my 7th Etape stage). Luckily the early Alzheimers hadn’t completely kicked in and I remembered. Best I’ve ever felt on one of these stages.

Meanwhile, Eric had cramped at mile 65. I can’t imagine how he finished. Most of us could barely make it up the climbs with two good legs. Eric wins the hardman award for going 40 miles, mostly uphill while fighting off legs that were locking up. 20% of the starters didn’t make it. Eric did. Amazing.

Amazing day on the bike. 108 miles, 11,180 feet of climbing, 6990 calories burned.

Join us next year?








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