147.07 km, 2,259 m
(first draft…) Keith Richards after a heavy party, is what I looked like this morning. My ‘Smart’ watch was telling me to moreorless lie motionless for the next 24 hours. These things don’t exactly help. But everyone was bustling around the breakfast buffet and spirits sound high. There was a firm belief that riding 1400m in a one’er yesterday was unbelievably foolish, and today’s ‘longer and higher’ route would be much better because it was broken up into bite-sized chunks… (spoiler: it was).
Another top weather forecast, and I headed out with Craig and Sarah; and Mike E for some of the ride. We Start It Up with a doom-filled descent – we were going to have to come back up this at the end of the day. But a few miles in and our legs loosen up.
More incredible scenery with distant icing-dusted mountains, framing meadows bountiful with botany. Some saw a Golden eagle and a black kite too. After a while, the ‘wolf pack’ hunts us down and speed past, only to stop for a ‘comfort break’ a little further up the road. We pressed on and are caught again at the low summit Col de la Sentinelle (981m).
At ~40km in, we cross over La Durance, an unbelievably bright turquoise lake, then begen slowly tapping out our ascents of of a couple more hillocks. Somehow, we meet up with the faster bunch on the way into the concrete-y side of Gap. Some take the chance to stop for a quick break at a bakery on a noisy junction, but we gambled (to be fair, I can smell a passtiserie/boulangerie from ~23km) and found a quieter spot over the next col in La Batie-Neuve at ~80km.
Martin positioned the van perfectly after the following Col, we refilled all our water bottles and told us the others were not so far ahead, and we might catch Mike back up. A few miles further on, and there he was in the distance. Up to this point, Craig had done by far the majority of turns on the front, but as Mike rose out of the distance, I saw a flash of Sarah coming past. Ah! I knew the game here and followed on her heels. We needed to squarely disabuse Mike of any indication that we had not been pulling our weight on the front. We sped along, with a confused Craig in our wake. I think he realised what was up, then just before we reached Mike, he cheekily took back the lead. But all for nothing: it was not Mike! We had caught and passed a napping, male youngster. I saw his shocked face disappearing behind us. Now there is a phenomenon both Sarah and I endure, which is that male cyclists hate getting caught napping by females. True to form, it was not long before he came past like a train. He then ran out of steam (this bit always happens too), and we simply sat on his ego wheel, as he burnt everything he had to avoid losing face. Finally, he had to pull a pretend right turn. Unfortunately, we pulled this too (it was out route). He then took a shady left behind some light industrial units, where we’re pretty sure he stopped to huff like a pair of old bagpipes in Glasgow at New Year’s Eve.
A good chunk of the riders was there, ordering too much, heavy carb-based food for lunch in a bar to the right, and we pulled in for a Coca cola/Sprite break.
Some of the descents on this ride were just gorgeous; like skiing a twisty left-right-left down silky smooth roads. On these decents, some pedalling on-and-off required, and to maintain speed, I’m hoovering air. This has two effects, firstly, it dries my mouth out like a bag of Frazzles, and secondly, I imagine I take on the appearance of a warbling Mick Jagger as my chops flabber against the wind. But it’s thrilling, and I unstick my tongue at the bottom of the descents.
The softly-softly approach to today’s climbing seems to be paying off; I’m feeling much better. We bridge back across the turquoise carpet, and begin the ascent back up to the hotel, picking up other stragglers too. Sarah and I organise a no-drop peloton to bus everyone back at the pace of the slowest rider. Frustratingly, there some misunderstanding as one of the riders thinks we women must be the weakest link, and offers their wheel to ‘help’. We decline, and they continue – no help whatsoever. Grr. Next to pass is a truck with four(?) enormous cows on it. Tony L. gets a quick whiff, and appears to lose all fatigue, chasing vigorously into the distance after the cows. It’s a funny sight. A few miles later, we spin into Balconette, for cool beers at the bar: Satifaction.
(Sorry reader – I’m to tired to get Day 4 up, and we’re getting up early for Day 5, more photos to follow when time – sorry!)
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
