First thing to highlight before anything else… having read how massively challenging and difficult this ride was my sole intention was to simply complete the 175km 5,750m (18,860ft) route. Those that reference this as a ‘race’ I take my hat off to them, but this is the ‘Marmotte’ one of the most feared Gran Fondo rides in the world. For me the emphasis was respect the parcours and ‘complete’…
The very first challenges of that day, were the dulcet tones of my Samsung alarm call. It is a really early start, with start times ranging between 7:00am through to 7:30am where you need to be in your designated pen by about 6:30 – 6:40am onwards, to wait amongst what feels like a thong of commuters jostling for a space on a Central Line train during rush hour, to be ready & willing for the first set off at 7am start and onwards. Add to this equation that a lot of the participants, including my friend Dave ‘Loggo’ Logsdon & me, stayed at the top of Alpe d’Huez with the event starting at the bottom of the Alpe, in Bourg d’Oisans.
Before the descent of the iconic Alpe we needed to wake up super early to allow enough time to reluctantly scoff as much breakfast products as we could, slosh down as much caffeinated products as we could, and hopefully then allow time for our bodies to ditch excess baggage to remain at an athletic weight. Pre-match functional excitement was never a problem for both of us, the question was whether a second or third visit to the ‘shrine of plenty’ was possible in the short timeframes.
The descent itself was my first cycling ‘non-virtual’ visit to this legendary 21 hairpin piece of tarmac. Prior to this event I’d spent numerous hours on the Zwift Alpe trying to get used to an hour plus of gradient grinding. The real deal has a strange mystical aura about it, probably because of the pictorial evidence and its history of all its two wheeled gladiator contests. Having driven up it the previous day to get to our AirBnb accommodation the prospect of ascending this after 160km already in the legs was a self-doubting and daunting thought and I certainly didn’t need reminding myself of the objection… Completion & survival. Fully kitted up and with the over jacket on I descended whilst performing a mental shakedown of my bike & kit. All present and correct.
My initial overriding thoughts were that if this early morning chill is anything to go by then I may have the wrong tops on, that proved to be very short lived when the Sun came up in its full glory… The next immediate thought was the brakes and the rims… Blimey, I’d only just started descending and the 21 hairpins were coming thick and fast, too fast. Being 88kgs meant that whilst I was covering the brakes in-between the turns I’m still charging at a fair rate of knots and I’ve still got a truck load of lunatics blasting passed and ahead of me, including Loggo. The carbon rims on reflection where probably not the preferred ‘weapon of choice’. Whilst descending you could feel the heat generating from the braking and the hand was struggling early doors with the constant pulling of the one lever. To be honest the one major concern regarding my bike and myself was the braking capacity on the descents of these four classic French Alp mountain passes. That concern was brought to the forefront very early on that initial descent and conscious of braking too much I just had to let gravity do its worst and hit the anchors not too early but late enough. “Trust the product” was the conscious thought process going through my head, my body would adapt, so ‘get used to it’.
Into the holding pen in Bourg d’Oisans wasn’t the most pleasant part of the day… out of the early warming Sun, a full bloated stomach with fodder and fluids, sweating from the descent and now cooling rapidly with couple of thousand other peloton members waiting to get going. After what seemed an age the sound of cleats clicking into the pedals was heard wafting up the street like a wave on a beach. The start was about to happen… A mate hug and a ‘let’s do this’ moment signaled the start of our moving 10 hours ordeal.
Looking at the elevation profile of the route, we have four mountain behemoths to climb… in order they are the Col du Glandon, the Col du Telegraphe, the Col du Galibier and last but not least the Alpe d’Huez.
Funnily enough, and I’ve seen it written in other reports / blogs, the profile seems to focus only on the Glandon, Galibier and the Alpe. On paper the Col du Telegraphe is the littlest of the four and therefore in your mind you seem to be relaxed and assume less impact. The Telegraphe is nestled between the Glandon and is the initial ramp leading up to the Galibier and unfortunately because of its lesser length not really considered, the reality however is that this equates to a 12km of 7% gradient climb… welcome to the ‘easiest’ climb… merge its length and gradient into the overall Galibier ‘climb’ and we are looking at a ‘tale of the tape’ of 35km with an ave gradient of 5.8%. Those figures hide the truth and with a few steep descents within those climbs and the practical gradient is a consistent 8%. Unfortunately, to add to that on this day the Garmin registered an average temperature of 38 degrees.
It has to be said that the scenery on this ride is simply breathe taking and is an absolute feast on your eyes and it starts very early. I say that because if I had followed the majority of those in the pen with us I’d see nothing. The pace was bonkers in sections and I found myself playing over the words of my coach “keep your powder dry”. So very easy to try and unleash those four solid months of training and play the grown up games of the Pro-Peloton. Drafting is all well and good but this was going to be a very warm (awful hot in places) sunny day of 175km, climbing four of the most classic French Alp climbs and this was no time to hit high heart rates.
At the base of the Glandon is a reservoir on your right, I’d felt strong and just ignored the masses riding out of the saddle and hit my own tempo and gearing. The Glandon climb is about 24km with an average of 4.8% but that doesn’t really do it justice nor is it a real ‘tale of the tape’ with steep sections at around 8% to 10%. The pair of us felt comfortable, stunned by the scenery, we were actually enjoying this climb. As the heat was building I was really conscious of hydration. Loggo (the rest of our mates will laugh because of the truth) is historically absolutely useless on hydration and refueling. I’m on his a case a few times and to be fair the conversations we’ve had prior are making him more vigilant.
At the top of the Glandon we refilled the bottles grab a few food offerings that would supplement the peanut butter & jam sandwiches and the M&S Banana loaf. The descent was not timed as it is considered too technical & steep and the organisers did not want people racing down because of the high probability of crashes, lessons learnt from previous events. We were exposed to the consequences of what these descents could offer. Loggo was a few bike lengths ahead of me as we were going at a fair old pace, the brakes were being used extensively by everyone and my head was in the ‘protect the carbon rims’ mode, i.e. less heat is good. All of a sudden there was this gunshot sound from a bike that Loggo was riding alongside about 5 bike lengths ahead of me. Keeping in mind we are going at a fair lick, the guy hit the deck, the bike let go of many components and because of the pace the guy slid across the tarmac, bolted straight up onto his feet and his survival instinct was to get to the side of the road to avoid the Peloton numbers descending. He had donated a fair amount of clothing and skin to the tarmac, the bike just laid in the middle of the road and we all maneuvered around both. There was an event motorbike on the scene and we continued on, but both of us looked at each other and said ‘sod that’ if ever there was an example of keeping concentration and the impact of this terrain on our bikes, there it was in its full glory. From the noise and pace / brakes we could only assume a blown tyre because of heat / rims. A pinched inner tube would have surely gone further up the descent. Phew… and this was just the first Col of the day.
From the village of Glandon we hit the valley to Saint Michel de Maurienne… this itself isn’t a flat 23km stretch, it was a steady climb. I’ve read post ride that this section raises some 260m and I can vouch that this isn’t a rest opportunity where you can make up time. More bottle refills were had and then onto the Col du Telegraphe.I’ve alluded to the length and gradient, add the scenery of canopy coverage and trees and temperatures of 35degrees, this was an absolute oven. This is where we had to dig deep, I was riding passed people that I could see were overheating. Irrespective of the slow rhythm the challenge here was temperature management. On reflection of the day this is where I can easily assume that the majority of non-finishers started their troubles. I trusted my coach, my training, surprisingly I had done a lot of riding in the garage where there was no fan and a lot of the summer heat so sort of ready for this. It was hurting in places and by this time I had consumed 6x 750ml bottles already and at the summit hit the feed station and deliberately slowed everything down. We were about 92km ridden, I knew that I’m probably holding back on chunks of time but I also knew that I’d rather have spare capacity than being in the red and just about half way.
We knew that the Valloire feed station wasn’t too far away and that was at the foot of the Galibier. The ride to Valloire was mostly downhill with the feed station about 2.5km out of time and again uphill. The lower back and shoulders were beginning to feel the strain and it was at this point that I started to pop the ibuprofen & codeine. The sun tan was beginning to show distinct lines but luckily the English summer had already bedded the skin in. We stopped on route just prior to the feed station at a hotel grabbed a couple cans of coke, rested a bit and used the toilet. We reflected on the ride so far not knowing what was ahead…
The Galibier… The first 10km section of the Plan Lachat seems innocuous as you wind your way through relatively gentle slopes up an intimidatingly huge valley. Some of the valley scenery was similar to Brecon rides I’d trained on but the gradient kept coming with no apparent end. The trees of the Telegraphe have long gone, replaced with sparse green vegetation and rocks. The temptation is to focus on the horizon but doing so you just see a daunting speckling of riders going up the stairway to the sky. The combination of this continual gradient and the thin air on the journey up to 2,600m above sea level was beginning to really test my mental resolve. Loggo was managing me and I knew he was struggling a little as well. We take an opportunity at a building to grab another can of coke and to look up to see what remained of the Galibier. It was then I got the proverbial smack in the face..! The ride turns turn back on itself, at the end of Plan Lachat, and the gradient just goes ‘bang’ upwards..!
The gradient is relentless in the final 8km, the air is thin, the temperature about 12 degrees. The final 4-5km is made up of hairpins which run at around 9-10%. The ‘granny ring’ is taking a battering at this stage, alongside my legs, my back, shoulders and my neck. I started to really crack in the final kilometres. With the gradient ramps over 10% and the road rough because of the exposed location I was starting to really zigzag across the road. I released Loggo from his support role and said I’d meet him at the summit. He needed to keep his own tempo not mine and he was strong enough to go for it. One downside is that you can see the summit for at least 3km and it never gets closer. The tents and banners marking out the feed station at the summit stand proudly on the horizon. This mountain takes no prisoners, this was where I saw a real number of people pushing their bikes. I absolutely suffered and the broom wagon option was a quick thought. The mind is where the completion of this ride is going to be won… I could not let all of those that had supported me down, I could not let Loggo down, had to trust my training, trust in my ability to take on a challenge… I was almost out of food, I was guzzling fluids like they were going out of fashion… The only, only consolation of riding a bike up to 2,600m is the scenery looking back down the route just ridden. Oh my God..! It gives you goose bumps. That view will never leave me… sod the pain, sod the wind and the chilled weather it was for a split second worth it and that positive thought got me to complete that Summit ascent.
Loggo was waiting at the top for me ready for his descent, we had to descend quickly to reach the cut off at the last feed station on the foot of the Alpe… I grabbed a handful of food, stuffed that down my throat, a quick refill of the bottles and jacket back on for what can only be described as the longest rollercoaster ride on 2x wheels. A 47km descent where you lose 1,895 vertical meters from the summit of the Glandon to Bourg d’Oisans. The top parts of the descent are open, tarmac just plonked on the surface, no barriers, just drops and rock to encounter. Mess this up and you are either sucking out of a straw for a very long time or worse still going home in a box. It is a twitchy bum descent make no bones about it. You are tired, the body is hurting, the sweat on the ascent replaced by the chill of the descent, the pace is relentless, I’m holding on for dear life with one hand covering the brakes, ‘don’t brake too often’ otherwise scrubbing these speeds off will blow the tyres, there is absolutely no opportunity to rest and my only advice is to continue with the pedal motion to try and disperse the lactic acid. As we get into the descent you start hitting tunnels as well. Dodgy road surfaces, transition from light to dark so vision can’t be taken for granted, sun glasses on or off, bikes must have lights on front & back… all of that whilst you are going some 60km/h… Where can that all go wrong. Apparently there have been some awful crashes in this section so I am grateful that we did not have a lot of other riders around us. We were really going some and the realisation that if this goes wrong it could be life-ending. So you can imagine then the tension in the body to hold everything together. The mind returned to a determined state and with the food and rehydration drink funnily started to feel stronger again… Where the hell has that come from..? I’m almost walking off the bike on the Galibier and here I am on a 47km descent starting to feel like I’m recovering.
Up until this point the bike is bang on… that was until I was coming out of a section of tunnels. On the exit there was some debris on the road that looked like metal, I couldn’t divert because of the pace, went over it and bang the front tyre goes on me. Concentrating on holding a straight line I had to coast out of this section otherwise anyone coming through would collect me and anyone else. I shouted out to Loggo “puncture” and we both stopped. Front wheel off, bike turned upside down against railings… sods law a gust of wind blows it over. Anyway, wheel gets new inner tube and off we set for Bourg d’Oisans.
Bollocks…! Sh*t..! Please no…! 1km down the road I realise that the bike falling has now bent the back hanger and my gears are changing on their own accord. How the hell will I get up the Alpe and what about the cut off time..? Loggo is fretting at this time about the cut off, we have ditched time on the puncture and now the gears. I have the Di2 set up so some tinkering with the setup, an adjustment with the back derailleur alignment and it sounded and changed half reasonable, not the bucket of bolts previously. Blimey, we were ditching time so we threw caution to the wind and Loggo was flying on the descent and I had to throw all in to stay in sight of him. The guy was showing skills only our other mate Barny could match. Once we hit the flat then it’s my time on the front, big gear bang a hole in the air and drag the pair of us to Bourg d’Oisans as quick as we can. I did a big turn on the front and we managed to get to the feed station at the base of the final climb, pulling a few others who had latched on when we passed. By this point I’m feeling amazing considering what we’ve just done… 160km under the belt, three icon Cols and the Alpe d’Huez to go.
Unfortunately because of the delays we missed the cut off by 10mins or so… whilst Loggo was having a mini-breakdown I went for the ‘go to’ can of coke, refill the bottles and a few nuggets of food, I was ready. There was absolutely no way on this earth that I was being stopped going up that mountain, even if I had to walk and it would take me all night. We quickly got our composure together, just in time for the broom wagon to turn up completely loaded up with bikes and people, we then exited minus our starting numbers. The cut off means cars are allowed onto the Alpe after it is closed for the majority of the day and to avoid issues they say that the numbers are taken off the bikes, you ride at your own risk. Looking up the first stretch there was a load of riders doing the same so for me, and eventually Loggo, the game is on.
On reflection I think this situation galvanised my mental attitude towards ‘completion’… before us was the iconic Alpe d’Huez… 21 hairpins, 14km of climbing, average gradient 8.1%… We have 160km in the legs and 3x Cols already ticked off. The Alpe d’Huez picks out any weakness you may be feeling and explodes it many times over. Any sniff of a ‘bonk’, any muscle fatigue, any lapse in mental fortitude… those iconic bends blow them from a minor obstacle into a major malfunction. At this point Loggo was struggling mentally…
You can read that the first four bends are the toughest, with my numerous Zwift Alpe sessions confirming that fact, but once you get them out of the way mentally I felt a sense of relief. This is not to say you are done, there is another 10km to go but those first hairpins have an average of 10.5% and it takes 1km to get to the first bend (#21), from then on a count down. We stopped frequently after grouping bends into chunks of effort of 3 & 4 hairpins. We’d take a look back at the view of what we had completed and then focus in going after the ride up. There were still so many riders on the mountain, some we were overtaking had numbers on and some that were following suit doing what we were doing. We received some support and encouragement all the way up and we managed a few full cups of coke to get the sugar rush needed to get to the summit. The rest was a sugar blur of an ascent, I’d probably fail a drugs test as well, and I’d drag on the front with Loggo tucked. It was the strangest feeling, feeling that capable going up. Under no illusion that I’m not tearing trees up but the almost DNF intention at the Galibier this is a night & day difference. We are expending physical effort and in equal spades emotional effort. This just isn’t about the body, the mind is the 25% that needs to be on point to get you through every emotion. By half way up the Alpe I think we got Loggo back on point. He really didn’t have a choice, we are staying at the top, and I am feeling ok so he doesn’t have to baby sit me up, what is the worst that could happen..? No one standing at the top to welcome us in…? He digs in and is tucked on my back wheel.
As we were getting nearer to the summit we could see our apartment block and knew that we had about 2km left and did that feel glorious. The gradient eased a little and we upped the pace to make a good impression. Into the final 1km a few turns in town, under the tunnel, turn right into the street that takes you up to the square, over the roundabout and then into the barrier section. The finish line in all its glory ahead of us… As we went over the line we were greeted by two ladies dressing us with completion medals. We might have missed the cut off by 10mins but we got our medal. Recognition that we have completed the course, it took us a moving time of 10 hours and 22mins with a good few stops. I frankly don’t care whether we were racing or not, to get that medal put over my head on the finishing line was the buzz I needed. We got multiple ‘well done’ comments and the flood of emotions hit me.
I’ve never purposely extended my body’s capabilities to that effect. Yes, I’ve ripped my arm off and that hurt just a bit, but this pain was a mixed emotion. We set our goal some 6 months previous, Loggo and I were the only ones to go for it. We trained our back sides off and we rode together getting each other through the lows and that finish line was a high. I had to hug my mate again, I am tactile, but the sense of accomplishment was overwhelming.
Phoned Amanda almost in tears, then my coach Dave and then anyone else who I could call / text / WhatsApp… We had a small beer each and we slumped in the finishing tent, treasured medal in hand. What a challenge… What a feeling… Could we have gone faster..? Probably..? Any regrets..? None on my side… Would we do it again..? Yes, and train even harder…
In summary… What a place to ride a bike…!!!! Absolutely stunning… you need luck & the right weather to be able to complete this. Never under estimate the mental aspect of riding a bike. An absolute amazing experience.
Chapeau to my mate Loggo… thank you for sharing an amazing experience that I’ll never forget. You got me out of trouble a few times and for that I owe you fella… Big hug..!
Wayne
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