Well, it had to happen. It just can't be the case that you can cycle inFrance for two weeks over two years and never get any rain. And it wasn't. Today we got our share. But more about that later.
The day began in Arreau. We got up early, having the weather forecast in mind, with an idea that we would be off to beat what looked like an afternoon rain. Our other rider Daryl left at 7:30 to get an hour's head start, because the climbs we planned to do were ones on which he just wanted a little extra time. Joe, Gordon and I left at about 8:30. The day was pretty - high clouds and cool temperatures, but nothing too menacing. That would change.
Our first climb began right out of Arreau, up the Col d'Aspin. It is a 12 km climb, with an average grade of 6.5% - a great way to get the legs warmed up. Joe told us that the summit at the Col d'Aspin received three stars as a beautiful place from the Michelin Guide. It is this spot where I first realized how beautiful the Pyrenees are. We made the climb steadily and easily, and the summit was as gorgeous as I remembered. You look down to the towns in the valley on one side and over to the the Pic du Midi Bigorre on the other. There are cows roaming freely at the summit. One came over to inspect (and clean?) Gordon's bike. The weather was still fine and we were optimistic.
The ride down to St. Marie de Campan, where the climb to Tourmalet starts, is an initial steep downhill followed by a sweeping 8 km or so glide down to the town. All was well until I looked back and didn't see Gordon. I turned around, rode up the road a bit, and saw him at the side of the road. He had a flat. Now, you have to understand that a flat for Gordon is a more serious matter than for other riders because he rides with sew-up tires. The whole tire (tire and tube) has to be pulled off the rim and another re-glued to it. I recognized that this would be a major operation, so I headed to town to get some postage stamps for the post cards I had in my jersey pocket. Having achieved my objective, I then rode back up to catch up with Gordon. Joe and Aron had shown up to get him squared away. Off we went.
The Tourmalet is a classic climb. Called Le Geant de la Route, it is frequently on one of the stages in the Tour de France, and it is the highest climb in the Pyrenees. It is a 17 km climb from St.Marie de Campan, and for the last 10 km the average grade is probably 9%+. We got started by almost 11 o'clock and made our way in pretty good time to the summit. As we drew closer, the weather looked more menacing, particularly at the summit, which we could see.
Along the way, we were passed by a Belgian rider, who backed off and rode with us for a bit. We immediately took a dislike to him when, upon passing us, he turned to say "My legs just don't have it today." He was feeling bad about being dropped by all of his buddies, but we thought it didn't give him license to diminish our efforts. More on this later.
Joe heard that Daryl had snapped his rear derailleur, and so he took off to see if he could get it fixed. Gordon and I soldiered on. About 5 km below the summit is La Mongie, a ski resort that is incredibly ugly (I'm sure it looks better in the snow). The course is really steep from this point to the summit and the weather was getting really nasty.
About 1.5 km from the summit it started raining and the wind started howling. It was awful. We decided we would just take off, accelerate our speed and get to the top. We did it and in the process blew by our Belgian friend, leaving him out on the course getting cold and wet, cramping as he came to the summit. We made it to the top and found our group, who had a table at the bar/restaurant at the top. If there was any doubt about the benefit of a supported ride (and we never had any), having a van at the top was worth every penny.
We had a fabulous lunch of garbure, which is the local peasant stew made of duck, ham, cabbage, potatoes, greens, etc. After being exposed to the elements, we thought it tasted out of this world. But the weather outside only got worse. Although the sun made a brief appearance, more clouds rolled in, the winds picked up, and it was like a hurricane. We decided to throw the bikes in the van and ride down to Luz St. Sauveur.
That turned out to be a good choice. Thunder and lightning on the way down convinced us that it would have been awful to have attempted the descent. When we got to the bottom, we decided (at least Gordon, Joe and I) to climb Luz Ardiden. This 12-km climb, which averages almost 8%, is also often on the Tour as a finishing point, because like Hautacam and L'Alpe d'Huez it is a ski station and not a pass across the mountains. Lance won the stage the last time it finished here in 2003.
The weather was dicey, but we decided to give it a try. I took off after several kilometers, getting up ahead of Gordon and Joe. Halfway up I ran into quite a bit of rain and wind, but I kept going, hoping that it would end. It sort of did, although when I got within a few kilometers of the top, the fog was so thick I could barely see 20 yards ahead of me. I literally got to the summit and could barely see the sign. It was cold and wet. I put on my vest and arm warmers and rode back down to find Gordon and Joe. I caught up with them, we turned around and reached the summit, and then quickly went back down the mountain. After reaching the bottom, it was about a 15 km ride to our hotel. We had some wind and rain, although we went along the beautiful Gorge de Luz next to a wildly rushing river. We were quite glad to be to the hotel and get a hot shower.
It is only mild hyperbole to say that the day was epic. Although we only cycled about 60 miles, we made three climbs that prominently figure in the Tour de France.
The hotel is a little downscale. It is filled with quite a number of people who are in the area to participate in the Pope's visit to Lourdes this weekend. We sort of stick out like sore thumbs! The food was mediocre, and we are looking forward to leaving in the morning.
This pictures are from the top of Luz Ardiden and the Col d'Aspin. Tomorrow, Col du Soulor and the Aubisque.
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