Marika's Tour de France

Stage 07 - Barcelona to Andorra - 224km

Stats: 200.09km, 13hr 37
Average Speed: 17.13, Max speed 55.18

June 11th, 2009

Today was B day. The lord, the messiah of the stages. The stage that had left its profile burnt on our memories. 224 km. Almost 175 of them up hill. Five climbs including a cat 1 and a HC and our first introduction to the Pyrenees.

We weren’t going to achieve this by leaving late so even though we’d had a bed time of 12.30 the night before we got up at 5.00 hoping to leave at 6.00. We were all far too tired though and the support crew was moving much faster than the riders which lead to a bit of stress. Eventually though we were on our bikes out the front of the hotel at 6.30 ready to go. We had Nance and John in one support car and Tara, Jase and Jane (our newly purchased GPS) in the second. Jane was to be our saviour, no longer would we be getting lost. An excellent concept in theory, not so much in reality.

It was slow going making sure that everyone got through all the lights and we were all together but it didn’t take long and we were on the outskirts of Barcelona climbing our first hill.




The climb wasn’t categorized but it felt like at least a four to me. It was slow going, especially without a warm up. The view up the top overlooked Barcelona and made it worth the slow climb. Once up the top though we hit a fork in the road. Tara and Jase went ahead, and we followed them. The next thing we know they’ve come back, we were going the wrong way again, so we follow them back and take the other turn off.

The second turn off was down a very steep tight road. Dale cranked it down and almost took himself out with a car that was vicariously placed. It scared him enough to say he was going to take it a bit easy from now on. Descending carefully we get out of the way for a car coming towards us, only to realize that it’s Tara and Jase. We were going the wrong way again. So we had to turn around and make our way back up the hill. The hill was too steep to change gears on (it maxed out at a 20% grade) and Dale had to change his gears in the one spot, turning the pedals over with one leg while the other was on the ground. I told him that I often find it’s easier to pedal with both feet. He thanked me back up the top of the hill and told me that my cycling tips have really improved his cycling.

Back on track we kept going. Feeling very conscious of holding the boys up, particularly now that Robert had joined us I pushed hard trying to keep up. It wasn’t long before the leg started up again and the old sweaty eye balls came out. This time though I was crying just as much about the pain as I was about the fact I really had to pull out for this stage. It was the hardest one and the boys had to make it so if I was going to hold them up it meant a trip in the car for the rest of the day…and yet I still wasn’t prepared to give up.

Half way through my hissy fit we pulled into a service station to regroup. I avoided looking at anyone and hoped my sweaty eye balls would be mistaken for a serious case of hay fever. Taz got to work straight away on my leg, a godsend again, and worked her magic, getting the knots out and making it feel much better so I hoped back on the bike and kept going.

It wasn’t long before Jane had us circling exits of a highway which confused and frustrated all of the riders. We sorted her out and got back on track. Our climbs that morning meant we were rewarded with some down hills and tunnels. The guys took off trying to overtake cars and I followed some distance behind taking in the scenery. I would not have believed we were in Spain.




The last hour before lunch Dale and Rob rode on ahead and Damian stayed behind to encourage me on. We’d been slowly going up hill for the last forty kilometers which lead to us feeling like we weren’t making much ground. Not only that but it was hot, deflating my spirits just that little bit more. However, Damian told me not to worry about it while I apologized profusely for holding him up.




We pulled into the lunch spot about twenty minutes after Rob and Dale. They’d feasted on lunch and icy poles. I knew the guys were going to have to do the last half of the stage without me if they were going to have any hope of finishing. Damian wolfed down his lunch and the guys hoped on the bikes and took off with Tara and Jase in tow. I wasn’t that excited to get back on the bike so I ate lunch slowly and worked on my leg for another half an hour before begrudgingly getting back on.

Nance and John were champions and had agreed to stay with me while I tried to complete the ride. It must have been painstaking for them but they never complained and always made me feel like I was doing good.

We left the lunch spot at 2.30 and had another 110km to complete including a category one and a hors category. I wasn't feeling too hopeful, particularly with my leg hurting. Just out of Solsona I started climbing the cat 1. Nance and John drove behind me. The grade was meant to be around 7% average but my computer hovered around 10 and 11%. This was actually faster than my speed, traveling at around 8-10km per hour, sometime dropping as low as 6. I was going so slow the car couldn’t manage it and I would occasionally hear it stalling behind me.


I’m a slow and steady rider. I never tackle hills pushing myself. I find my rhythm, stick to it and plan my breaks. I don’t get overwhelmed, just know what I have to do, put my head down and do it. I was once told that if you stand up to pedal you give in to the mountain. I've never stood up to climb a hill before and I wasn't about to start. I remain firmly in my seat, keep my head down and pedal. I plan my break stops, ride towards them and keep going. The break for the first climb was half way up. I could see that John and Nance were concerned and wondered if I was going to make it but I reassured them I felt fine and I hoped back on and kept going.

As I got closer to the top the grade kicked up and I found myself giggling the whole way thinking how the hell did I get here, this is ridiculous, what am I doing? Then I turned around and saw the view and realised it was more than worth it.


50m from the top the grade hit 19% and it was so steep that I was actually wobbling on my bike to stay on. John was worried that I was passing out and I needed a break so we pulled over and had a drink and food break. Taz sent through a message to say that it was getting harder and I was worried I was about to face a hill that was 20% for 15km.




After the break the grade dropped back down to about 3% and I managed to find some fans. Three men at a lookout encouraged me along with lots of allez’s and ti amo’s which was nice. Then they jumped in the car and overtook me as I was going up the category three with more allez’s and ti amo’s and even hitting the side of the car for me. Which was good because it took my mind off snakes…until I met this guy.



Thank god it was dead. But as I rode by a pub (?) the three men were all hanging out of the windows asking me to come in for a beer. I smiled politely but kept riding, there was still ninty k’s to go for the day. This didn’t deter them though as they jumped back in their car and tried to offer me some water as they over took me.

Before I knew it I’d finished the category three and was descending. As I twisted my way down the side of the mountain and relaxed into the descent I was rewarded with the most breathtaking scenery. In fact it was this very scenery that came up when I googled the stage to see what I was in for and again I found myself giggling wondering how on earth I got to be here.



I continued riding on stopping in a small town at 8.00pm at 175km. Most of the patrons of the town were old men watching the street and were very interested to see what was going on. The boys were still going, we weren’t sure how far ahead they were. John and I made a deal. I’d ride till 9.00pm and the next day which was a rest day he’d drop me off where I stopped for the day and I’d finish the stage. I jumped back on the bike and kept going, trying to put as many k’s away before I had to hop off, averaging about 30km an hour on a 1% gradient. When it hit 9.00pm and I was 4ks from hitting 200km (the first time ever in my life) I kept riding and pulled over at 200.09.


While I didn’t manage to complete the stage I was still really proud of myself for hitting 200km after I was so close to pulling out in the morning. And so thankful to John and Nancy for sticking with me for a slow and long afternoon. The boys had a bit more luck. Damian and Dale made it to the top just before 11pm. They were ecstatic. Poor Robert had to pull out with 5 k’s to go. Although, he had just flown in from Australia and had not had the weeks training that we had so I think that’s an amazing effort.