One Day in July - Etape du Tour Act 2

The Snake of Pain: what started as a birthday present from Casey, became an effective talisman during the Etape

Wednesday PM, July 11
I was putting the last bits of crap into my bag and feeling over prepared. I'd been doing this in my mind since November and I had more stuff than I needed already. I was at odds over how many cigars I would need and whether or not to bring a fez.

I'll explain.

They were both adequate for celebrating post event. Why not a fez and a cigar? There would be six of us so I'd bring six. A couple of them might not make it but six shows confidence in the group. What if they don't? What if I don't? Do I really want to be blasting away on a cigar...in a fez in front of people that didn't make it?

You bet I do.

Sadly, there was no room for the fez.

I had clothes for every possible condition but everyone I talked to kept saying how hot it would be. Spanish border with France...mid-July. I didn't need much convincing it would be hot.
The two Toms would be here at 4:30 in the team car to make the Channel crossing by train at 6:30.
I stowed everything and got to bed.

Thursday AM, July 12
They screeched to a halt in front of the house and were at the door before I could get a bag lifted. Keep it down...I stammered. She'll hear you. "Good. I hope she does."  Tom A said as he came clunking in with my car bike carrier he was returning.
I thought. I had better leave that big bike rack in the middle of the hallway. I don't want to make any noise opening the back door...waking someone up. Now THAT would be selfish. Not that I was too lazy to put it back where it belonged or anything. I'll worry about that later. No, I won't worry about it then either.
We wheeled the bike out, took the wheels off and put it in the back with the other two. Put my bags in and tore off in search of the southern passage in Folkstone, Kent.
We made it down to the crossing and stopped for coffee and Pringles.
Rolled on to the train and kissed England goodbye.

Eurotunnel

30 minutes later we were in France. I was excited so I ate Pringles and stared out the window trying to absorb it all. It was a trip of firsts for me.
First time doing the Etape.
First time riding in France.
First time riding a bike in the mountains.
I had been pretty good about convincing myself it was just a bike ride and a mountain road is like a flat road except you go slower but this was the infamous "Circle of Death*" But this was adding romance to the equation. "Circle of Death" is certainly evocative.

We drove for 12 hours, rotating every 2 for driving and Pringle eating duties. We listened to a few discs of an audio book and sang Molly Hatchet songs in falsetto. We were midway across France. Things were looking good. We stopped for fuel for us and the team wagon. I get nervous about coming into contact with people behind the register in these kinds of places in other countries. My French is...pardon my French...shit. I'm ok with the basics and can get by to a degree by pointing at stuff in the shop and smiling like an idiot. When they comment about the weather and stuff my plan goes tits up.  This happened. I think the smiling makes people chatty. Note to self. Learn more French.

We got down to Bordeaux and we knew the worst of the drive was behind us. I'd been here before with the two guys in the car. I was still in my twenties (just) and we drove in for the day from Bergerac** to see what the fuss was about an American called Lance Armstrong who had come back from cancer and was now leading the Tour de France. We saw the stage finish in Bordeaux. Saw a blur in a yellow jersey and here we are again.

When we turned off of the Autoroute it was quite apparent we were in another part of the world. Mountains. Big f*ckers.

First sight of the Pyrenees

We found our hotel and grabbed something to eat. We wandered back to the rooms. Since one of out team had dropped out, two of us would share a room and one would have the luxury of their own room. It turned out that Tom A and I would be sharing a room...and a bed. After some quick ground rules were established (none, except I had to be bought dinner first) we passed out.

5am...waiting to go sign in to registration

Friday AM, July 13
I do wake up early...my bed friend wakes up at a more normal time. This was no problem for I had all kinds of shit to fuss with. Cameras, Garmin things, books, gels and energy drinks to unpack. We all were up and feeling good we went into Pau in search of the registration area.

The registration area senses overload. There were messages being read over the sound system between Euro dance tracks. First in French, then English then Spanish. It was really fuggin odd. Like some happy internment camp from District 9.

Inside it was great. We got our numbers, all our free stuff which included a Rapha t-shirt, water bottle and a back pack...oh, and a reusable shopping bag from the Pyrenees Council of Tourism. This was probably the thing I would use the most. This would certainly bring a smile to my face on a rainy day in Balham. I can't wait to get it home and stuff my onions in it.

The two Toms outside the registration area

Inside the registration area. Only Rapha would have a Fausto Coppi espresso machine!

We were then left to wander around in a massive building that was all bikes and bike stuff for sale. I bought Tour de France t-shirts for people back home and kept getting my wallet out...and putting it away. I survived without going too nutty with the purchases.

Tom A saw friends of his that live in Frome, Lee and Helen. They run a coffee H Van based business called Claud the Butler. They are cycling supporters to the highest degree and Lee is a very good rider to boot.

Tom S, Tom A, Helen and Lee

We're on the coffee and these fellas are on the Kronenbourg 1664s and Gitanes I bet they were faster too

Tom A had to leave and drive to Bagnères-de-Luchon to drop the car off at the finish and get a bus back to Pau. Tom S and I went for another coffee and felt sorry for Tom A. We walked back to the hotel via the supermarket we had another coffee and by now we'd forgotten all about Tom A...the selfish bastard that took the car and left us to schlep all the way back with our Pyrenean shopping bags. I was sweating my onions off and swearing by the time we got back.

No going back now

Back in the room we put the food away in the kitchen. Prepped the bikes and went back to the same restaurant from the night before. Omelet, frites, salad. Got back, went to bed and laid there for a while.
I thought of a lot of things. I wondered how I had got here. I know that sounds odd but the physical way I got there was obvious. My ass still hurt from the car ride. More importantly, how I managed to be here. Things, life events...the turning point for me was August 9th 2011. That is a different story but everything aligned and somehow the invisible force had positioned me near the start of an epic journey. The invisible force would get me through it tomorrow. I fell asleep.

Saturday AM, July 14
We got our stuff on and filled water bottles. I'd been checking the weather for four points along the way. We'd lucked out. 70's with 68 in Bareges (half way up the Tourmalet) It had been in the 90s the day before and will be two days later. Still, I needed to keep up the mantra...drink before you're thirsty...eat before you're hungry. I made an extra bottle to have in the start area. My number was in the last pen. It would take an hour to start everyone. All the other guys in the team had lower numbers and would be in different pens. I brought some Soreen to eat as a second breakfast.

We met in the courtyard of the hotel at 5am (which was now brimming with bike riders) two more of our team, Kierran and the man known as Botts appeared out of the dark. Old French guys in their cycling club gear having a last cigarette by their door. We rolled off towards Pau center. Tributaries of cyclists joining our rolling river from everywhere. By the time we reached central Pau there were 8000 riders and bikes flooding into the delta. The square was still dark and one side was lined with trucks where you hand over your bag with a bib number attached to it for after the race. The crazy announcements on the PA system were back and so was the Euro dance music but now it was more trance and it being dark I secretly wished to be pilled up in some wheat field.

...quatre, trois, deux, un, ALLER!
I rolled out and along through the dawn, towards the outskirts of Pau and into the French countryside. There was 30km before the first climb of the Aubisque. Pace lines were forming and they were massive. A person could get on the back of one going 25 and get sucked along hardly touching the pedals. I had one that was going 19 so I went by it to get around 21mph a speed I can carry with no problem for this flat run to the foot of the giant. After 5 miles or so I thought it was oddly quiet. I looked back and it was breathtaking. There was a single line of around FIFTY riders single file behind me. Quietly tucked in and drafting with not so much as a sound. I smiled and kept spinning for a few more miles before peeling off to let the next guy come through and get a break at the back. Bad idea. When I peeled off, no one would let me back in so I drifted all the way back to about mid way before a French cyclist put his hand on my back and guided me in before him. About 5 inches to spare between my front wheel and the guy in fronts back wheel.
Merci!
The new guy on the front let the pace slip and it wasn't long before people went off into smaller groups. I found myself tapping along at my own speed again, driving a shorter bus.

We got on to the Aubisque and I could see the riders vanishing into a low cloud above. I pedalled on and found myself needing to pee again (3rd time in two hours) halfway up. So much for drinking when you ain't thirsty. 

5 km from the top it felt like I walked into the beer cooler at Wegmans. After an hour and 30 minutes I was at the top. I'd climbed my first mountain on a bike, the second biggest of the day and was now shaking uncontrollably on the way down and in desperate need to get in the warmer valley below.

That took longer than expected. the rain and the cold combined made the descent very slow. My whole body was shaking violently and the front wheel was wobbling. I could only manage 18mph and I should be going at least double that. By the time I got to Argeles where the first food stop was it was horrible. There were people weeping. There were people in ambulances and lots of people in Mylar emergency blankets. I had food. God knows I had enough liquid I knew I needed to move and fast. There would be lots of casualties on the day.

I pushed along and my heart rate wouldn't go up. I would normally be about 140 ish going 18-20 mph but I was 110bpm and it was not going anywhere. After 10 miles of false flat on the tedious drag up to Luz I was feeling human again. Some of the team had family staying half way up the Tourmalet which I could now see the bottom of. The top half was in the clouds. They would have food and cokes, coffee. I got to them and 60 miles in the guys that were in the pens before me were just leaving their picnic area. I decided not to stop. I had everything I needed. I felt good and I was just getting warm again. I was very happy to have caught up and to see people I knew. That gave me more than a can of coke would. 


I rode with Kierran a while and chatted. It felt so nice to be going up again. I hoped it would last all day. I was on the Tourmalet!!! The mountain that dragged me out of bed since November was now under my wheels and I felt electric. I rode up to the others and they were a little worried about David who had a really low number at the start but I noticed that he was still sitting there and had clearly gone through the looking glass when I rode by.
The conversation had gone and everyone was left with their own private demons. Every once and a while Tom A would look up at the line of riders being gobbled up by the clouds and mutter "the snake of pain..." then leave me to contemplate the implications of the "snake of pain". 

I looked down at the little green "Mr Wiggles" Casey had given me for my birthday. I thought if it got really tough, I could use a talisman. (Before I left the house I wrapped it around the Garmin thing and showed him. Casey thought it was great that Mr Wiggles would be coming.) I looked Mr Wiggles over, then looked up at the riders. I've seen the snake of pain, I thought. It's not that scary. What a stroke of luck. Tom's ramblings about the snake of pain and that's exactly why I brought Mr Wiggles; to kick the shit out of the snake of pain.
Coincidence?
I think not...Invisible force.

Tourmalet!

No more talking...I've just had a nice tall glass of shut the hell up

Near the top I was overwhelmed by the support of locals standing in the Wegmans cooler cheering for us.
Us?
A bunch of nobodys? I was pretty emotional knowing I would soon be on top of the mountain that I had obsessed about for so long. I waved excitedly at smiled at this older man as I went by. He looked astonished and said something like "Vous souriez et sommes heureux même si vous souffrent ! Fantastique !"
I had no idea what he said.
Tom A was chuckling. He just said: "You smile and are happy even though you are suffering! Fantastic!"
I love the French. I understand now. They like a bit of suffering. We have that in common.
I had made it to the top and knowing what would happen if I didn't get he hell out of there I boogied off the top and down the other side. No chance to gawk at the silver splendor of the Octave Lapize statue...no photo ops...get down the mountain or not make it at all.

We regrouped at the natural crotch formed by the base of the Tourmalet and the Aspin. That was a long, cold descent with no views and a nice slurry of slick cow shit all over the road half way down. I was worse than before now with the cold.
I couldn't open my water bottle.
The woman working the sports drink stop smiled and took it from me and filled it and put the lid back on before giving it back.

Tom S suggested a group hug as we'd just done the biggest climb and we were all a little hypothermic. This helped a little but we needed to keep going or my core temperature would be too low and I would have trouble with my heart rate again.

The Aspin was a godsend. Immediately it went up. Slow incline and nothing too serious it only lasted for 30 minutes because we were all banging away to keep warm.

Aspin

This didn't go into the clouds as it's not too high, a little higher than Whiteface in Upstate NY and we were treated to a beautiful descent and our first views of the day.

We got on to the Peyresourde after another 10 mile valley drag that seemed like 30.

a lot of people had had enough

The Peyresourde wasn't that bad but because it was the last one and the effort seemed to be dreamlike. Tom got out the snake of pain expression a few more times as if convincing himself of some impending doom. We got to the top and thought about waiting for the others...for about two seconds. It was downhill all the way to the finish and I was not waiting around in the Wegmans cooler for anyone. Yep, even you. Sorry Mom.

I felt so alive sweeping through those turns sprawled out under my wheels. I got over 28mph on the flat into town. Under the Flamme Rouge 1km to go. I was overwhelmed by the people lining the boulevard to the finish. I showed my gratification to them in my best French by waving and smiling like an idiot.

I made it.

I cried.

Tom A came in soon after and then Tom S with Botts 30 mins. No sign of Kierran or Dave (last seen slumped in his chair on the Tourmalet). Kierran came in 30 minutes after Botts and Tom S (who had slowed to coax Botts along). Finally, David. Eighth to last! 1hr30 mins later. We'd all made it!

Team Yapp

We drove back to Pau hungry and tired but wired. It was Bastille Day and there wasn't much open. We found a Q Burger and English car with the steering wheel on the other side meant that Tom S would be ordering from the passenger seat. It went a little like this...
Tom S: 2 deluxe burgers, one chicken burger, 3 large chips, one order of chicken wings, one large coke, one large diet coke one large sprite...
Girl in window: Pardon?
Tom A (leaning over from the driver's seat): Repeats the entire thing in French

We got back and found none of the shit we actually ordered. Didn't care. I was more impressed with Tom S brazenly ordering away in English to the poor girl that had to work on the national holiday.

We were tired and decided to smoke the cigars some other time.

We never smoked the cigars.

Monday PM, July 15
We got back to London to the same crappy weather we left.

I'm home!

"You left that damn bike rack in the hallway"

Ahhh, home. Where the real adventure is.

I gave out the souvenirs, heard about what I'd missed and what everyone was up to for the last few days.

After catching up and tucking in, I started unpacking. I found the little green fuzzy snake in the front pocket of my bag.

I got Mr Wiggles out and looked at him.

He didn't say anything. He never says anything.

He doesn't have to.

I carefully placed him back in his place on top of the picture frame.

I slid the Etape medal over the corner of the same frame and went to bed.




*(from the Rapha blog: Circle of Death, the fearsome loop that includes the Col d’Aubisque (1,709m), Col du Tourmalet (2,114m), Col d’Aspin (1,489m) and Col de Peyresourde (1,569m))

**(where a bunch of us rented a 3 story 10 bedroom chateau with pool, pool house, stables, bar (with pool table), horse track that was also the driveway. No kids, beers at 9am by the pool...a million years ago.)