93.62 km, 2,227 m
(first draft…) The morning started with the traditional hotel buffet Search & Devour, as ~20 hungry cyclists ate into the hotel’s profit margin like gannets in a chip shop. The gently warming morning sunshine beckoned, and I struck off ahead of the group to get stuck into a basically one single long climb. The roads were quiet as an astonishingly beautiful valley unfolded ahead of me. The route traces the river Var back to its source, and while the foothill pimple was quickly reached, then following ~1,400m of continuous ascent required more mental application.
There are signs of nature everywhere, a couple of deer rumps bound into the trees, and butterlies flutter by, and for a few miles, there are numerous suicidal caterpillars crossing the road like chickens. About 800m into the climb, I fail to resist the white and scarlet parasols of a beckoning café. Time for some patisserie, but excuses moi, pas des gateaux? Patisserie? Non? Ces qu’el ce pas? Encroyable! Something about Sunday? (a Tesco’s superstore wouldn’t let me down like this…)
Despite the Dimanche-induced dessert desert, in dribes and drabs, other riders start to arrive. We pull up red plastic chairs and order bottles of Coca cola, café au laits and almond Magnums. It’s been a while, but some serious slimification. Magnums? Minimums more like ☹
It is later in the morning now. The motorbikers have finished their sausage breakfasts and are hurtling past us to the summit (on our team kit it smugly gloats Earn the Descent…). In the opposite direction, are some very flash cars, including a rather sexy Ferrari that tried to take his wing out on me. We share hairy passings through rock tunnels with hairy bikers, and mostly continue upwards.
Everyone has their own way of dealing with the job in hand. One of us describes the need for music to ‘keep the noise’ from their heads, and I know what they mean. Like snails, we inch further upwards, some riding singly, but most in small groups.
It is warm, and a glittering turquoise lake calls from the roadside. I inform the rider ahead that I’m definitely going to jump into the next watery opportunity. On passing, I realise he is not in our group, and decide to leave him with that information.
~300m from the summit, Si pulls alongside for company, and we chat a little which I think helps distract us both from the pedalling, ‘till we reach the top. As expected, the summit monument is treacled with bikers. They take a while excitedly arranging themselves to bag photos of their ‘hard-earned’ (still smug…), leather clad summits, while we wait, externally patiently. We snap a few piccies, then someone points out that the café in Balconnete closes at 2:30pm…
We swoop down the other side, bouncing over a few road ruckles, with thoughts of cheesey pizza urging us on. (We make it to the restaurant in time, but the pizza oven has been switched off. Gutted).
(more update/photos of other group members to follow when I have time!)
Bolton Lads & Girls Club (BLGC) (www.blgc.co.uk) and the wider national community to which it belongs, Onside (www.onsideyouthzone.org) in the hope you will feel inspired enough to donate just a little to ensure its continued success –https://www.justgiving.com/page/roofoverourhead
