Marika's Tour de France

One sleep to go.....

2009-01-31T02:43:00.000-08:00

I cannot believe that in less than 24 hours I will be on a plane to Europe to ride the 2009 Tour de France Route. After 3500km of training, hours and hours of organising and weeks of carbo loading it's finally here - one sleep to go.

One sleep to go!!! OMG!! I've got to pack, I've got to figure out how to get a bike in a case, there's cleaning and washing to do, equipment to pick up, a helmet to buy and a passport to find!! Maybe there isn't one sleep to go!!

I can't find my ankles...

2009-01-30T01:58:00.000-08:00

After 30 hours of travel, two stop overs, minimal sleep, numerous aeroplane meals and two of the fattest cankles I have ever had in my life we made it to Rome.

Our tour start was not without its issues though. For some reason we thought that we’d be able to smuggle an extra 40 kilo’s onto the plane, even though a person’s allowable limit is 30kg and we were already given 10 extra kilo’s in sponsorship. So when Emirates kindly told us that it would cost an extra $2800 to get our luggage on the plane we decided to purge. Thank god Mum, Dad, Cait, Dale and Steve where there. They scored 10 kilo’s each to take home.

It took us over two hours to check our baggage in. So I don’t know why Damian thought he would attempt the same trick with carry on, trying to sneak 30kg in the cabin when the limit was seven. Another quick purge of 15kg and we were on our way.

But we’re here now and all is good. Our bikes are safely stored in the hotel cellar, our 10 items of baggage strewn across our hotel room and we’ve collapsed in a heap. Our first adventure is tomorrow, Damian’s press conference.

Damian's Press Conference

2009-01-29T01:59:00.000-08:00

I don’t think that we were quite ready for the press conference. In fact I know we weren’t, we were totally underprepared. It started at 11.00 and I casually strolled down to the conference room in the hotel at 10.55, in jeans and thongs, to be greeted by about 24 well dressed Italians. This is where I really wished I had of brushed up on some language skills, but settled for some polite smiles and puzzled looks.

Set up at the front of the room was a table for six people, which included the head of paediatric gastrointestinal disorders, presidents of different associations, doctors and Damian. The conference went for an hour and I was pleased to see how well received Damian's project was, they were very grateful towards him. We are a bit worried that lost in translation is the fact that Damian isn’t actually competing in the Tour de France, just riding the route, but then again, if it helps promote the project, maybe it’s not such a bad thing. I wonder how many of the people in the room will be tuning into the tour looking for him.

Next stop Nice. We depart tonight and ride with Simon Gerrans in Monaco tomorrow.

Giro d’Italia

2009-01-28T15:10:00.000-08:00

On Sunday we were lucky enough to be in Rome for the last day of the Giro d’Italia. It was a 15km loop around Rome, starting and finishing at the Colosseum. Having not been to an event like this before I had no idea what to expect.

The first thing that struck me was how much the Europeans are into this sport. I always knew they were avid fans, I just didn’t realise that they dress up in their finest lycra’s and bring their bikes along to watch the race. That’s settled my question of what to wear to the first day of the Tour de France though! Best book Piaf in for a bath the day before as well.

It was an absolutely amazing event. We wondered around the track watching the riders pass by, and then headed up to the start line to watch them take off. About a km away was the finish line so we headed towards there but became very distracted by team buses parked up a side street, as were half of Rome.

The teams were all warming up outside their buses and where protected from the public by a roped off section, which meant the warm ups were more appealing than the actual race, particularly as the riders had no security to get from the track to the bus and ran a gauntlet of people every time they moved outside their roped off area. People swarmed around buses and in the middle of the street trying to catch a glimpse of their favourite rider. We swarmed around the Cervelo bus hoping to see Simon Gerrans. The rest of Rome swarmed around the same bus hoping to get a glimpse of Carlos Sastre, the winner of last years Tour de France. They weren’t disappointed. He gave a couple of interviews, signed some merchandise and chatted with the crowd. I turned into “one of those” and shoved my camera in his face as well.

We figured if we can get this close to Sastre we should try for Armstrong so we headed up to the Astana team bus and loitered around that. Apart from a lot of screaming fans there was no sight of him and after 20 minutes we gave up and walked back down the street. As we jostled our way through the crowd, some riders were jostling their way in the other direction, and just like that Lance Armstrong rode by us. He was so close we could have stuck a spokey doke on his wheel. Damian became starstruck and gave him a big cheesy “G’Day” as he rode by. My paparazzi instincts flew into overdrive and I ran up that hill trying to get a picture of him.

After that we wandered around some more and checked out the finish line. We also found a spot near the start where barricades were missing and we blocked the path of the riders trying to get a good photo of them as they tried not to run over us.

I never picked myself as a massive cycling fan, especially not one that could write six paragraphs about a race, but as it turns out, I think I am. Thank goodness for that because I’m not sure if you’re aware of this but I’m actually riding the Tour de France in a matter of days.

Simon Gerrans

2009-01-27T02:35:00.000-08:00

What a legend. This guy is awesome. Not only is he one of Australia's leading riders, won a stage of the Tour de France last year and a stage of the Giro d'Italia this year, he came to the Monaco train station to pick us up and take us to the start of this years tour....and then rode us out of Monaco to show us how to get home. No wonder Sastre demanded he be on his team!

We meet with Simon today to ride around Monaco and to get some hints and tips about our upcoming tour. First thing that strikes you about him is that he just a ball of muscle, second thing is he is one of the most down to earth guys you'll find. He rode with us, he posed for photo's, he signed our gear, he even entertained our highly technical questions (so how fast can you go?).

It was fantastic that he could meet up with us a day after the Giro and the day before he flew out to Colorado for altitude training for this year's Tour de France.

We're already looking forward to the first day of the professional Tour de France so that we can cheer him on and follow his progress the whole way.

Two days to go

2009-01-26T02:50:00.000-08:00

Yesterday we stretched our legs with a 20km ride from Monaco to Nice. Today's training ride involved getting a bike serviced, which equals a 4km round trip. Somehow though I managed to stretch it out to 18km in an afternoon of being completely and utterly lost. When I did finally find the bike shop it was closed for siesta and we had an hour to kill before they reopened.

So, making the most of the situation, Dale and I decided to live it up at a beach restaurant while we waited....by ordering two cokes. We were surprised at how nice the waiter was to us for just two cokes, that was until we got the bill. 16 aussie bucks for two cokes. There wasn't even any vodka in them.

The above picture shows the view from the beach restaurant. I've put it up in the hope that 16 dollars worth of enjoyment will be had from it.

Pre Ride Organisation Day

2009-01-25T13:00:00.000-08:00

Our pre ride organisation day was a day to get ourselves together and prepared for our ride. A day to sort things out, settle logistics, get everything packed, work out team dynamics and plans, get maps and routes sorted and be confidant in what we were about to undertake. But, like all things on this trip so far, nothing is ever that easy.

Half of our support crew had arrived the day before, John and Nancy (Damian’s parents) so at breakfast we made a plan for the day.

We had to pick up the two support cars from the airport, our English riding buddy Chris who found out about us on the internet, quickly deck the cars out with the bike racks and luggage and head to Monaco picking up Tara who was part of the support crew (and Damian’s sister) along the way. That way we could check in by 5 and have an early night.

We camped out at the hotel we’d stayed at the previous night (even though we’d checked out for the day) and waited for Damian and John to pick up the cars. And waited. And politely smiled at the hotel staff who were wondering why we were still using their facilities and free internet. And waited.

Finally Damian came back. John was apparently right behind him. When an hour went by and John still hadn’t showed up we started to worry. He put our nerves at ease though when he phoned through to the hotel to let us know he was ok, then let them sky rocket again when he told us he’d run into a concrete barrier and the car was not going anywhere.

Three hours later and one missing hub cap the whole team had regrouped out the front of the hotel thanks to the help of some very nice French people and conveniently located mechanics. By now it was about 4.00pm and there was still so much to do. And Damian decided the best place to do it was right out the front of the hotel. So we pulled the cars right up to the doorstep, blocking their parking as well, and put the bike racks together there. We worked away out the front of their hotel until 7.00pm. When the staff finally saw the bikes on the roof, the cars all packed and all of us ready to go they nearly threw us a going away party. That was until Damian decided to use their free internet one more time.

Smooth sailing for the rest of the night, if you don’t include us getting lost for about an hour on the way to the new hotel. Our apartment was amazing and had the best view (see below). We had tea and got to bed at about 12.30, not the greatest start for our tour but a start none the less.

Stage 1 - Monaco Prolouge 14km, (+63km)

2009-01-24T13:14:00.000-08:00

June 4th, 2009

Here we go. Stage one. All the talk, the hype, the training, the planning, the organising, the waiting now comes down to this moment. Yikes.

We tried to get up early for our start ride to get it over and done with but a late night and a sick Damian does not equal early. We stayed about 10km away from Monaco, up the hill, in the most amazing little apartment. At about 10.30 we rode down to the start line, letting the support cars know we’d meet them there.

After one lost support team, logistical organisation, route planning and taking photo’s we departed for the start of our 3500km ride at about 12:00pm. I would have been overwhelmed with excitement.......if the traffic hadn’t of been as intense as it was. Then when you throw into the mix the fact that we’re riding on the opposite side of the road things got a little bit crazy. We followed the route for about 1km when we reached a street that was blocked by a policeman. We tried to explain what we were doing but he replied “you’re in Monaco now, speak French.” Slight detour and we were back on track. We climbed the mountains behind Monaco before becoming lost again then kept going. The scenery was amazing but the climb was tough. We finished our loop possibly a little off course (my speedo read 16km when we got back) and we were greeted by our support cars in the port of Monaco. It was pretty cool to say that the first stage of the tour has been complete. And we celebrated in style! We’d parked the cars in a car park that contained the most expensive cars in the world, we opened the boot, pulled out the esky and enjoyed some homemade sandwiches.

On my way to the toilet I realised that if someone had of told me last year that you’ll be walking around Monaco in lycra I would have yelled at them blaspheme, and yet there I was, strutting around in the most revealing clothes possible, pointed bike shoes and a handbag.

That night we planned to have dinner with people from TXCell, a company that is doing research into treating Crohn’s disease. They were located in Sophia Antipolis which was half way on tomorrow’s stage. As we weren’t doing anything that afternoon we decided to ride to Sophia Antipolis and get half of the first stage over and done with. We rode back through to Nice and continued on along the beach until we had to veer north.

This was when I got my first introduction to these so called “flat stages.” The whole way to Sophia Antipolis was up a mountain, down a mountain, up a mountain, down a mountain...then as usual...get lost. After an extra 63km’s we’d almost reached Sophia Antipolis and were dreadfully lost. Our first support car had located the hotel, our second was with us. We continued on a bit before realising we had to go back 6 k’s, then John decided to go ahead and find the hotel. It was 5.45, we were meant to meet the TXCell team at 5.00, we still couldn’t locate the hotel and on top of that John had phoned through to say he was now lost as well.

After many phone calls, lots of “Parle vous anglais?” ’s and a French woman who was so concerned we wouldn’t find the place she drove us there herself, we made it to the hotel, and in turn, TXCell headquarters at 9.00pm. We apologised profusely for being four hours late and were very embarrassed but the people were terrific. We got a tour of their workplace and after that we all went out for tea and had a fantastic time. It was the perfect way to end a somewhat stressful yet exciting day.

Stage 2 - Monaco (Biot) to Brignoles - 187km (or 123)

2009-01-23T06:38:00.000-08:00

June 5th, 2009

Stats: 124.16km, 5:48:29,
Average speed 21.37, Max speed 53.01

For stage 2 we were going to be organized! We only had 123km to make up (which is doable in a morning when riding around Melbourne) so we were looking forward to an early night and getting things under control.

We’d planned to have breakfast with David, also from TXCell, who’s completing a mountain climb of Mount Le Blanc to raise money for Crohn’s Disease. We swapped stories on planning projects like this and organized to meet up in Nice when we’ve finished our ride. It was great chatting with him and we would have loved to have stayed longer.

Back to the Hotel at 9.45 and we were a little behind schedule. Plenty of time to put the car signage up though, or so we thought.

By 12.30 we were on our way, time to complete the second half of the second stage. 123k’s. I think it was around the 6k mark where we became lost. Dale stopped to fix his speedo, Damian and I powered on (and when I say powered I mean go slow with a heart rate that goes high). When we turned around Dale and the support car were missing so we sat by a roundabout and waited for them to catch up. Half an hour later we called them to find out where they where. They were wondering where we where. Apparently we’d missed the turn off. And this pretty much set the scene for the rest of the day.

By 3.30pm we’d ridden 60k’s and decided it was time for lunch. 45 minutes later we set off again.

This so called flat stage took us over some fair climbs, which I moaned about the whole way up, but it made up for it in some gradual sweeping descents which were fantastic to ride down. Not too steep for beginners like me, but no pedaling required, that’s my kind of riding.

Then the last part of the day it finally finally became a flat stage, with roads that were lined with green fields and forests behind them and we were able to pick up some pace.

Just when I was becoming comfortable with finishing the stage soon we hit the hills again at 110km. By now I was ready to get off my bike and poor Dale kept checking to see if he had Darth Vader behind him, but it was only me trying to use the force to get up the hill.

The speedo finally hit the 120km point, then 121, then 122, then 123 and about five hours later 124. I was knackered, and it was 8:30pm. We put the bikes on the car and headed to our hotel…of course…getting lost along the way. I was unaware of most of this though as I’d passed out in the back seat. After driving around Marseille for about 45 minutes we located the hotel.

Damian’s friend Carole was support crew that night and she did an awesome job of looking after us, tea was ready when we got in. We inhaled it, showered and headed off to bed at 1.00am.

Stage 3 - Marseille > La Grande-Motte - 196km

2009-01-22T07:24:00.000-08:00

Stats: 175.93km, 7:35:46
Average speed: 23.16, Max Speed: 53.54

June 6th, 2009

After going to bed at 1:00am it was near impossible for me to get up at 6:00am, but when you’re sleeping in a lounge room of an apartment your choices are limited when everyone else is up.

Today we had 196.5k’s to ride so we knew we had to get going early. However by the time we had all eaten, were all packed up, our bikes on the car, and heading to the start point it was about 9.00am. So when we were driving on the highway and one support car took one exit to the left and the second one took the exit to the right you could have almost bottled the stress and used it for energy later on in the day.

We regrouped at 10.30am, decided that near enough was good enough for the start point, and got ourselves organized to ride off. Then a sweet little French girl appeared from no where and was on for a chat. Only Carole spoke French so she translated for us. We thought she was so cute we had a photo with her, then gave her a little koala to say thank you. She said she already had enough stuffed toys but took it anyway.

We had four riders today, Damian, Dale, Chris and myself. Dale and Chris powered on up ahead and Damian waited back with me.

The first part of the stage was hills so I started drafting my letter in my head to the Tour de France organizers to explain the difference between a hill stage and a flat stage. I was going to tell them how in the first “so called” flat stage we’d already climbed more than the equivalent of Mount Hotham. I didn’t get very far into that however before we became lost again, and that was how the morning turned out, it felt like there was more time spent looking for the right way to go rather than riding.

It was a bit of a tough slog, undulating, not feeling the fittest and not knowing where to go. But the day was brightened when we passed a “T” intersection and saw a lady sitting on a stool in the middle of nowhere looking like she was missing part of her top. We decided she must have woken up that morning and felt like sitting besides a highway to pass the day away and we kept riding.

We pulled over for lunch at 3.30pm after clocking up 86k’s. We weren’t too hopeful about finishing off the last 110k’s, particularly when we started riding again at 4:15. Chris decided he’d ride on ahead by himself so it was down to Damian, Dale and I.

After lunch we were greeted with yet another hill, which really made me and Darth Vader very happy. However at the top of the hill was a stunning castle, and yet another great decent so things were good again. We kept riding and kept turning our legs over, not particularly quickly, but making progress none the less.

It was about 8.00pm when we struck a detour. One of the towns we were passing through had some kind of a bull and horse event on, which involved horses racing each other through the main street one way then flying back chasing a bull the other. I have no idea what it was about, and I’m not sure that the locals did either as they seemed to be more interested in getting drunk, and then, more interested in the three people behind them in lycra wearing helmets (not many people wear helmets over here).

The local teenagers entertained us with their stories and questions and then entertained us by buying us a shot. Not each, one between three, but we had a go of it anyway, said thank you very much and continued on our path.

At 10:00pm, after 176km, we called it a day and decided to make up the extra 20k’s the next day on the time trial.

Stage 4 - Montpellier > Montpellier - Team Time Trial - 39km

2009-01-21T07:43:00.000-08:00

Stats: 62.67km, 3:36:49
Average speed: 17.34, Max speed: 53.54

June 7th, 2009

Today was our “rest day.” A short ride of 39km, plus the 21km from yesterday meant that we could get an early night for once.

Checkout was at 11:00 so we had to be gone by then. We were ready by 10.30 and then Chris turned up. He’d fallen asleep in a field yesterday along the way so when he rocked up with his eye’s all bloodshot and his jersey all dirty we quickly feed him some breakfast and he was good to go again.

Navigating around Montpellier was a nightmare! We got utterly and horribly lost. It was alright on one hand because we had to make up k’s from the day before but it was also frustrating because after two hours we’d managed just under 20km’s. Our day was made up with constantly asking people which way to go, looking for street signs, backtracking and getting fed up with riding.

At one stage when we got to yet another intersection and had no idea which way to go we turned around to see team Columbia Highroad behind us. They were practicing for the stage as it was a team time trial. The boys hoped on their tail and followed them and I kept the boys in sight. They were gone in a flash though so we gave up but were very thankful that they’d shown us the right was to go.

Five minutes down the road one of the team had a puncture so we ended up catching up with them anyway. Some cheeky photo’s and a few not overly well received questions later they were on the road, with the boys on their tale again. They could have taken them to, if it wasn’t for me unsure of which way to go so they chased them to the next intersection and then waited for me.

Thank god there was a highlight because in the end that 60k’s took five and a half hours, which equaled one little dehydrated lobster Marika.

We learnt from this that following the route exactly is not going to get us anywhere fast, and decided if we accidentally deviate from the route we just make sure we get back on it as soon as we can and we do the k’s for the day, there is no point spending hours making sure that every single meter is covered.

2009-01-20T01:32:00.000-08:00

Stage 5 - Le Cap d'Agde > Perpignan - 195.5km
Stats: Distance 196.10 Time 9:53:00
Average Speed: 19.83 Max Speed: 45.00

June 8th, 2009

Last night in an attempt to be organised we drove to the starting point for Stage 5 so that we knew where we were going in the morning. We also found an entertaining restaurant for tea where the waiters tried to teach us the names of French desserts and we all pretended that we knew what each other was saying. I think they may have figured us out though when our faces clearly said “what the hell is this?” upon arrival of the desserts.

After tea we managed a bed time around 12 but still set the alarm for 5:30. Chris was the first one knocking at our door in the morning. Even though he’d pitched a tent out the front of the hotel the night before he was still dressed and awake which was far more than any of us. He settled for memorising the route while the three riders marched in a silent procession of breakfast eating, dressing and packing.

We found ourselves at the starting point just before 8:00am. I think it was about 8.15 when we got lost. Le Cap d’Agde, like most French towns, was not easy to negotiate. If there were signs it wasn’t too clear which way they were pointing. We lost john and turned to Chris for help but he was struggling as well. We somehow managed to get through it, although it involved riding the wrong direction down a one way street, and regrouped just on the outside of town.

However not too long after that we found ourselves in a similar situation. John went on ahead to see if he could figure out the right direction, Chris told us he was going to go it alone and meet up with us at the end of the day and I fall off my bike. Nothing too impressive, in fact it was highly unimpressive. I couldn’t unclip my shoes and went down on the pavement while a little girl watched with shocked amusement. Unfortunately I have a habit of screaming while I do this, just to let everybody know to look at me at that exact moment.

Whilst I was on the ground I look up to see Damian waving madly at John coming towards us. I thought hang on, I’m ok, I’ve done this before and then realised that John was driving on the wrong side of the road and Damian was politely trying to get him to move across.

Once everything was sorted we continued on. 500m down the road John wanted to turn one way, Chris the other and so we separated with Chris and planned to meet up that night.

We finally got out of towns and into the French countryside. Here Dale took front, Damian next and then me and we started to actually watch the ground move underneath us as my speedo hovered around 30km an hour. We kept this up for an hour or so on a road that was lined with old trees and hay paddocks and started to feel good about riding again.

With 40k’s under our belt we stopped at a petrol station for a quick break. We topped up on lollies and banana’s, pit stop, fuel stop and were back on our way.

Next town was Beziers. We spent a bit of time getting acquainted with the round a abouts here as we tried to determine which way to go. The good thing is though you get to see more of the town than you normally would if you had of stayed on track.

Not too long after that we found ourselves out on the road again, surrounded in countryside and this time even a little French canal beside us. The roads were pretty narrow and not in the best condition but we enjoyed watching the boats swim up along side us. At one stage Damian noticed a boat was called crusader so he chased it up the river enthusiastically letting the people on the boat know about the coincidence. However I think it was lost in translation and he received the same polite smiles and head nods as we’d been dishing out recently.

Between the canal and lunch we got lost twice again. The first time an old French man who spoke as much English as we spoke French helped us out, and then a dutch couple who were also riding pointed us in the right direction. We noticed some beautiful windmills off in the distance and some writing on the road from a previous tour. That lifted our spirits and today’s stage was shaping up to be alright afterall.

We stopped for lunch at 130km at 4:00pm in an old disused petrol station. This also helped lift our spirits. Dale anonymously seasoned the air and upon complaint from Nancy insisted it was her cooking so she should deal with it. Tara filmed Damian’s video diary and Nancy walked straight though between the camera and Damian, unaware that filming was in progress.

We set off again and I became increasingly aware that our path was leading us towards the windmills, which were on a hill. But this was a flat stage. It said so on the website. We can’t be doing hills? Two in fact, two category fours. And on completion of the two category fours I was again drafting the letter to the tour organisers about classification of stages and climbs! These were somewhat tough for me and this was a flat stage. I started to get a bit worried about the Pyrenees that were looming just two stages away.

There were some positives to the climb though. The view was fantastic, I saw my favourite little French town to date (due to a wrong turn off by me) and we got a close up of the windmills. Plus the descent was pretty good too.

My riding average dropped dramatically and then in turn the guys did as well. I tried to push myself being acutely aware of how much I slow up the guys but I was getting nowhere fast. That’s when Dale came up with the idea that there was no point expending so much energy, we should get Nancy to drive just in front of us to block the wind. He rode ahead to let her know the plan and she was on it. He dropped back besides us and Nancy took off. She drove about 50m infront of us and we all got the giggles. Dale tried to chase her down and raised his arm for her to stop but everytime she saw him coming she took off again, increasing her lead. We decided to wait until a traffic light to regroup but we were on something similar to a major highway and it took a while until there was an opportunity to catch up. Finally we did and Dale explained drafting to her. No worries, she was on it and took off again, this time reducing her lead to about 25m. She lifted our spirits again and we giggled like school girls for awhile, something I didn’t think possible after riding for two hours in a head wind as heavy as that.

We continued on into the night pushing against the head wind that lasted for the rest of the 40km. I have to thank the guys here for staying with me even though they could have finished up hours beforehand. We did eventually finish at 9.30. We chucked the bikes on the roof and headed off to find our hotel which was an hours drive away. Well it would have been had we not got lost.

We ended the night by spending 47 Euro’s at Hungry Jacks and headed off to bed at 1.00am, exhausted and spent. I was happy though that I’d managed to ride my longest day ever. 196km, 30 more than my best in Melbourne.

2009-01-20T00:06:00.000-08:00

Stage 06 - Girona to Barcelona - 181.5km

Stats: 152.11km, 8hr 13min
Average speed: 18.51, Max speed 54.69

June 9th, 2009

Five hours sleep or less for days running had taken it’s toll on all of us. After getting to bed at about 2.00am we decided to sleep in till 7.30. However the lazy get up time set the pace for the rest of the morning and we found ourselves still in the hotel car park at 11.00am.

Spirits weren’t exactly high, Damian’s website wasn’t working, everyone was tired and the day was already stinking hot. Dale and I decided to lift our spirits with a fun game of I wish, which involved trying to outdo each other making statements on how the day could be better, ie. “I wish it was hotter,” “I wish I was more tired,” “I wish my seat was a bit harder,” “I wish we could go one more day without washing these shorts.” etc. It got us in the zone for the day ahead.

We finally headed out and I tried to stop my autistic brain calculating the estimated arrival time for the day. It was too depressing.

The first thirty kilometers was a constant uphill, not the best thing for improving the mood. Although there wasn’t really a chance to be in a mood because we were on a fairly major highway and you needed your wits about you just to stay on your bike. Cars flew by on the three lanes besides us, we carefully dodged roadside glass and debris and were very wary of the exit and entry ramps. I wondered if this was a road I would contemplate riding back in Australia even with the support car.

The uphill haul was rewarded with my fastest speed to date as I shrugged off caution and tried to keep up with the boys, pushing my nose close to the handle bars. A modest 59.5km. It felt like a lifetime ago that I was pumping my breaks the entire way down category four hills, even though it was just a few stages ago and it was taking longer for the boys to get smaller on the horizon in front of me. Maybe I was starting to become less of a hack cyclist after all. Maybe.

We hit Sant Felu de Guixoles after about 30k’s, a town who’s main street went downhill all the way to the beach. It was such a beautiful little town, almost as beautiful as the next 20km. The route took us along a coast line that was similar to the great ocean road and apparently Cinque Terre in Italy. A cliff face met the sea and we wound our way around and up and down until we reached a lookout where we stopped for a break, after completing about 46km.

The view was sensational and we couldn’t help but linger here, no one was all that keen to get back on the bike. After a snack of banana’s, nutella sandwiches and lollies, we topped up our drinks, took some photo’s, lingered a bit longer and then begrudgingly kept going.

We continued along the cliff face climbing and descending and feeling like our progress was really slow. A category four which felt like a category two was placed in there to keep us on our toes.

We shifted slightly in land and the terrain flattened and straightened out. I became aware of a sharp pain in my leg that felt like a knife was stabbing me every time I pushed down on my pedal and tried to ignore it.

We passed through Malgrat de Mar, a fairly sizeable town and we all bunched up so that it was easier to direct us through. By now the pain was excruciating and I had began to cry which made focusing on traffic and where John was going extremely difficult, not to mention avoiding looking at Damian and Dale so that they didn’t see the tears falling out from under my glasses. As Dale would say I had an extreme case of the sweaty eyeballs. I tried desperately to suck it up, it was tough enough being a girl rider, I didn’t want pain to be mistaken for emotion.

I started doubting that I was going to finish the stage. I honestly couldn’t see how I was going to ride much longer with the pain and at the same time I could not give in. So I battled with an internal debate of giving up vs riding on while the saying pain lasts a moment but quitting lasts forever played over and over in my head. And I debated this for the next thirty k’s, all the while crying and pedaling with one leg.

I gave a huge sigh of relief when the guys pulled over, one of the times that I was thankful to be lost. I was hoping they thought the huge industrial area would make a nice setting for lunch but unfortunately we’d already organized with Tara and Nancy to meet at Caides d’Estrac, a spanish beach side town, and they had the food so we had to push on. I went as fast as I could go, trying to keep up with the boys. They went as slow as they could go trying to make me feel better.

We spotted Nance and Tara and we pulled in for some lunch. Tara the amazing masseur got to work on my leg straight away and did a world of good for it. However my leg wasn’t the big problem anymore, it was the fact that it was 6.00pm and we still had 75km to go.

About five k’s out of town we hit the first of the category three climbs and I was again left questioning the Tour de France organizers rating criteria as I did my finest impersonation of Darth Vader to date. The next climb was just as tough and quick but before long we found ourselves back on a highway putting some k’s behind us. I wondered again if cyclists were allowed on this road just as we were overtaken by a professional. This didn’t sit so well with Damian and he opened up and chased him down. We lost him for a while there but he returned triumphant, he’d managed to sit on his tail for a few km’s.

We continued along the road, John behind us in the emergency lane, cars whirling by us.
With our heads down we rode into Badalona and stopped for a break. It was about 8.00pm, we all needed a drink and a toilet stop. We pulled up on the sidewalk and Damian and I headed to a café serving tapas that would possibly have a toilet stop. We found a small bar that looked like it hadn’t changed from the 60’s, and possibly the patrons too. Over the last couple of days I’d become used to being stared at by locals as I try to convey the urgency of a toilet so this place didn’t fuss me too much. We got some ice creams and took them back to Dale and John. We discussed the route and how to get into Barcelona from where we were and hoped back on the bikes. We’d been pulled over for about half an hour and still had 50k’s to go.

Again we found ourselves on a major road heading into Barcelona, only this time it was getting dark as well as dangerous. Cars flew by us, the fading light was making it hard to be seen and see others, none of us had lights on our bikes and it all just got a bit much. At 9.30 with 30k’s to go we pulled the pin. The road was far too dangerous for us to be riding on at that time. We managed to find a small dirt paddock off the road and we pulled over to put the bikes up. We all said it was too dangerous too ride and we will make up the extra 30k’s tomorrow on the rest day. I couldn’t help but feel awfully guilty because I know we would have been almost there had I not slowed everyone with my leg. We finished the day feeling deflated and a bit defeated as we drove into Barcelona.

2009-01-18T00:32:00.000-08:00

Barcelona Rest Day

June 10th, 2009

Our first rest day. We were pumped. Even though we didn’t manage to get to bed till 2.00 the night before hand we didn’t get up till 10.00. The night before we had been joined by Damian’s friend Jason

who was going to be our support crew for a week, as well as Damian’s friend Robert

who was riding the first set of mountain stages with us. It was really good to have a different dynamic to the group.

That day we’d planned to have a chiropractic appointment before making up the 30k’s from the day before. Damian’s friend Brock is a chiropractor in Barcelona and he’d kindly donated his time for the whole team to give us an adjustment. It was perfect timing because I was very keen for him to check out my leg.

Our motivation for riding was quite low and we decided we’d make up the 30k’s the next rest day. Given that the next day was the biggest day of the tour we wanted to be fresh.

The rest of the afternoon was taken up with trying to sort out my leg. We found a chemist who was very keen to help and who spoke English. In fact he spoke English so well that he spent about half an hour showing us the different areas of Barcelona that spoke Catalonian (to the point where he drew us a map). I walked away armed with products to help me get through the next day. I had a leg brace and muscle cream and I was certain that that was the end of my leg upsetting my little apple cart.

2009-01-17T01:12:00.000-08:00

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.

2009-01-16T01:35:00.000-08:00

Andorra Arcalis Rest Day

June 12th, 2009

Today was a scheduled rest day but I had a mountain to conquer and a stage to finish. This mountain itself was 10.6km with an average grade of 7.1%.

I set off at about 11.30. John and Nancy were going to meet me at the top. The climb was quite surreal. Amazing scenery, not too steep, not too many cars, just a really pleasant climb with many stops for photos (unfortunately I left my camera in Switzerland so I can’t show you these photos).

There was a lot of road works going on with heaps off trucks and a lot of ogling workers. The worst part of the climb was the tunnels where you had to wait for traffic lights to change before you could enter, but you also knew that you weren’t going to be fast enough to get through the tunnel before it was the opposite traffic directions turn. This meant you spent most of the second half of the tunnel squinting, weaving in and out of traffic hats and praying.

Eventually though I made it to almost the top but pulled up when I noticed the road ahead of me was wet tar. What should have crossed my mind was “don’t be stupid, don’t ride on wet tar.” But instead what went through my head was “but the boys did. And what the boys can do so can I.” So I trudged on through the wet tar for a km before I hit the top. Well, 200m from the top, the tar trucks had taken up the rest of the way so I had no choice but to claim my location as the finish line.

It was fantastic to have reached the top, however now it meant I had to come back down again, through the wet tar. So back on I trudged through the sticky black stuff that settled nicely on my tyres as I descended back down the mountain. I took it a little slower this time, hands on the breaks most of the way, pulling over to uncramp my hands every twenty minutes or so. Nance and John and Damian met me half way down. I have to admit I was tempted to put the bike on the car and get a lift down as it was proving to be a little bit steep but I kept going and made it back to the motel.

When we regrouped I found out that the finish line actually finished 2km before the tar started so my new slicks weren’t necessary after all. I was extremely pleased about that.

2009-01-15T01:44:00.000-08:00

Stage 08 - Andorre-LaVieille to Saint Girons - 176.5km

Stats: 185.03km, 10hr 23min
Average speed: 17.8, Max speed 59.42

June 13th, 2009

My day started with trying to scrape the tar off my bike. We’d planned for another early day as we had two category ones and a category two ahead of us over 176.5km, so it was impressive to see nearly everyone assembled in the car park before seven on only four and a half hours of sleep.

From inside came some screaming and what I thought was an entire jar of marbles bouncing on the floor. Turns out Robert had blown a tyre before we’d even left so we waited for Robert to fix it up and then got on the road.

The deal was that the guys would ride with me for the first week and then after that I was on my own. Today was the first day of riding by myself. I have to say it was really brought home when the guys screamed out of the car park then faded into the distance. Unfortunately for me and my support car (poor John and Nance) the first car had all of the maps and the GPS and the boys were long gone. We pulled over and tried to find our way, then tried calling them, then again looked for road signs till eventually we found where we thought we were meant to be going. By pure luck we ran into them at a roundabout that had a statue of a big bottomed bike rider to which someone likened to me. From then on I worked my bottom off (not because of the previous insult) but trying to keep up with the guys so as not to get lost again.

I’d lose them on the down hills and work hard to catch them on the up hills. My heart rate was hitting 191 and when we’d stop for a break I could barely speak but I was not going to get me and the support car lost again.

Before long we started the climb so I relaxed a bit knowing that we’d all meet at the top. This climb was Port d’Envalira, the highest climb of the Pyrenees sitting at 2408m above see level. I relaxed back into my rhythm and made my way to the top. It was 23.2 km long but averaged at 5.1% so it didn’t feel daunting. A few happy snaps at the top, Rob pumped his tyre up again, which seemed to be leaking slowly and we headed down again.

A few k’s down from the top we came across a ski resort which had public toilets. These were so rare we all decided to test them out. I somehow managed to be ready before the guys and we decided it was best for me to head on as the guys would no doubt catch and overtake me on the downhill.

After almost 50k’s of straight downhill with no sign of the guys I was convinced I’d taken a wrong turn and pulled over. Five minutes later they showed up and we regrouped with me quietly proud of myself and kept going.

Half way up the category two we stopped for lunch. We’d done ninety k’s which meant we had 86.5 to go. Quite good for us.

We continued climbing Col de Port, where at the top we found so many cows and people milling around.

I’d just missed Damian and Dale who’d already descended, but Robert came up after me still having trouble with his tyre’s. I went on ahead and he fixed his tyre. It wasn’t too long before he was overtaking me on the downhill and then me overtaking him as his lone bike suggested a pit stop.

I found the guys sitting at the little town Massat eating an icy pole waiting for us. The cars temperature gauge was indicating that the temp was 36 outside. We waited for Robert to come down. And waited, and waited some more. In the end Nance and John headed back up the mountain and we made the executive decision to keep riding with the other support car.

Our final climb for the day was the Col d’Agnes, category one, 12.5km at 6.5%. We hit the bottom and the guys went on ahead promising to meet me at the top. John, Nancy and Rob overtook us in the car letting us know that Robert’s bike was going to need some work and they’d meet us back at the motel.

I felt this climb. It wasn’t overwhelming or impossible, I could just feel that it was a tough slog. So tough in fact that I fell off twice. The first time trying to find a good place to park the second because it was so steep I literally couldn’t force my foot around any further and before I knew it I was lying sideways on the road still mounted on my bike, still clipped into my pedals.

I must have looked an absolute sight to the car that came over the hill. They stopped to ask if I was OK and I somehow convinced them I wasn’t but they moved on. My poor pride.

I found Tara and Jase at the top waiting for me. We took photo’s and enjoyed the feeling of finishing three climbs in one day.

We couldn’t see the guys so Tara and Jase headed on and I started the descent…and then the ascent. Apparently I was only half way up the climb and had celebrated prematurely. I continued on and met the guys at the real top.

It was much cooler at the top and we enjoyed a break and the stunning views before starting the descent. It was one of the toughest descents for the tour so far. There was a lot of gravillons, it was extremely steep and I again spent a lot of time pulling over decramping my hands from breaking so heavily.

The last part of our day was down hill the whole way and we really enjoyed rolling freely to our hotel and chatting along the way, proud we’d finished another mountain stage.

2009-01-14T02:24:00.000-08:00

Stage 09 - Saint Gaudens to Tarbes 160.5

Stats: 160.97 km, 9hr 8min
Average Speed: 17.61, Max Speed 53

June 14th, 2009

Tourmalet Day. Not as scary as stage 07 but the reputation of the Tourmalet preceded itself and I was somewhat worried.

The night before Robert had worked on his bike and was confidant that there wasn’t going to be any punctures today. It turned out that the wheel he had got specially made had not been made special enough and the spoke was puncturing his tyres, which had resulted in the four flats yesterday.

Before the Tourmalet we had to conquer Col d’Aspin. A category one that spanned 12.3km with an average grade of 6.4%. It started 48km into the day, all of those kilometers being uphill. On our way we caught up with Chris, our English friend who had started the tour with us. He’d fallen sick and had to pull out so we wished him luck and continued on our way. We also said goodbye to Tara who was heading back to work.

Col d’Aspin was slow going but not as hard as Col d’Agnes the day beforehand. Again I brought up the rear with the guys ahead conquering the mountain at their own pace. Knowing how far I had to go I timed the distance down to the last 500m where I came around the corner and saw everyone at the top in the distance having a food break.

When I got to the top Dale informed me that Nancy was looking out for me and declared excitedly that she saw me coming, only to retract her statement when she realised that she was looking at a post.

Cows were everywhere again and it looked fantastic, particularly when you surveyed the view while cow bells chimed. A little scary though when you’re descending towards a herd and their heads slowly lift up so that your eyes meet and their look says to you “as if I’m moving!”

We soldiered on to the Tourmalet with quiet excitement (the boys) and dread (me). Robert had decided he was going to see how quickly he could do it. I decided to see if I could do it. The night before we’d met a guy at dinner who talked up what an achievement completing the Tourmalet would be, which equaled putting the fear of god in me, particularly when he directed his conversation at the boys and tended to ignore me. I took this as him disbelieving a girl would be capable or conquering it. So my determination was high.

I took off first in the hope I’d reach the top not too much after the boys. Half an hour later they overtook me and the grade started to jack up. I braced myself and hoped that I wasn’t in for an impossible climb.

Nancoir was my support. She patiently followed behind me and encouraged me, filled up my drink bottles, gave me snacks, yelled out I was doing good, took photo’s for me and kept my spirits high. She even let me know that her speedo was not dropping less than 10km an hour. I didn’t have the heart to tell her that my speedo was reading between 5.5 and 7km. At this rate it meant it was going to take me two hours to complete the remaining 12 km.

But I wasn’t deterred. Just a matter of keeping on pedaling as Nance would say. So that’s what I did. And counted down the kilometers. At each half hour I would take a break for a drink (as I was still to master riding and taking a drink at the same time) and some food. About two thirds of the way up we found a ski resort town and I hoped I’d calculated wrong and that it was near the top, but some further signs informed me there was still about 6k to go. Again I started giggling. My computer had been hovering around 12% for the grade reading and occasionally going up as high as 14% and I knew that the last few k’s weren’t going to be much better.

Head down, turn legs, check speedo, still 5.5k’s to go, head down, turn legs, check scenery, check Nancy, check speedo, still 5.5’s to go.

And so on and so forth until I finally reached the top and meet up with the boys and John at about 5.30. It took me two and a half hours to get up the top but I conquered it. Thanks Nance! How about them baguettes Mr. I just talk to male cyclists!

From the top we still had 70km to go but it was mainly down hill so we were confidant that we’d complete the stage. And we did with only a few drama’s. Me and Nance got separated from the group and had to ask the locals for directions, bucks lost a glove and we got stopped by the police for riding on a highway and had to do some cross country trekking with our bikes on our shoulders.

We rolled into Tarbes with 10km to spare and spent the time that John was looking for a hotel riding around the back streets trying to make up the k’s. By the time we reached our hotel we’d successfully completed another stage and were absolutely beat.

2009-01-13T03:17:00.000-08:00

Stage 10 - Limoges to Issoudon 194.5km

Stats: 194.74km, 8hr 36min
Average Speed 22.60, Max speed 48.28

June 16th, 2009

We’d spent the day before traveling from Tarbes to Limoges and saying goodbye to Jase who was going back to England and Robert who was heading back to Australia. They’d both helped us out and were absolutely amazing and we knew we were hugely in debt to them.

We left Limoges at 8.00 and headed out to the country and that’s where we stayed for pretty much all of the day. We had to ride 194.5km, a tally that wasn’t daunting as the profile only involved some category fours which felt like nothing compared to the last three days that we had.

The morning was extremely undulating and it felt like hard work. We hit 50k’s and pulled into a small town Marsac for a break. We lingered a lot longer than we should have, taking in the markets and the people taking in us. After mars bars, power bars and lollies were devoured we continued on.

Still extremely undulating the boys were up front, taking advantage of the downhills. So I missed seeing bucks come off his bike. The first I knew about it was seeing the lead car pulled over with John, Damian and Bucks standing around. Then I saw the bike upside down. Then I saw the blank confused look on Bucks’ face and was told that he’d come off head first into the side of the road when his chain slipped off and was going at 50k an hour.

We spent a bit of time putting him back together, (ie, bucks putting himself back together while we watched), which entailed fixing the puncture and trying to fix the wheel and spokes that were bent enough for the wheel not to spin anymore.

When he’d reassured us he was fine we rode towards lunch which was at the 115km mark. We decided not to wait for a town but to pull into some sort of a shared driveway and picnic here. Fortunately for Nance and I the shared driveway lead to a fairly dense forest, a toilet stop that ranked highly for privacy compared to what we were used to.
We were feeling confidant about the rest of the day because we only had 80km to do, not too much more than our training rides back on beach road. And not only that but we were finishing up nearly 300m below our lunch spot.

After lunch the undulating terrain continued and I lost the boys. They powered on ahead and I must have been 5k’s behind them. Again feeling the pressure of being slow I put my head down and turned my legs as fast as I could for a couple of hours. Watching my speedo hover around 31 to 33k’s I felt like I was making good ground but still couldn’t gain any on the boys. Back in the support car behind me the 30km an hour pace was taking its toll on Nance and she was getting extremely tired. She drove on ahead in search of a coke.

I eventually caught up with everyone at their rest stop. They’d managed to make friends with a local (when she caught Damian trying to take a pit stop) who kindly feed us soda water and her own cherries for energy. She wasn’t so keen to have a photo with us until she’d brushed her hair.

Thanking her and bidding her farewell we kept riding towards Issoudun, stopping along the way to take in the Louis Vuitton headquarters. I wasn’t all that excited but I was surprised to see Bucks getting a bit weepy over the sign.

We rode on into town banking nine kilometers should we need it.

2009-01-12T00:00:00.000-08:00

Stage 11 - Vatan to Saint Fargeau (192km)

Stats: 194.74km 8hr 36min
Averages Speed: 21.77kmh Max Speed 55.68kmh

June 17th, 2009

If we were happy about yesterday’s stage we were even happier about today's. Two less kilometers, only two category four climbs and what appeared to be less climbing in general. We were pretty confidant we had this one in the bag.

We left at eight. The ride was very similar to the day before. Undulating and through the country side. We went through fields and then through forests. We spread out while we where in the countryside but had to regroup as we went through the towns. The towns we passed through early morning seemed to be the most exciting about cycling. There were many sculptures of bikes and signs indicating the tour passing through the towns.

We had our first break at 65k’s and were pretty happy about that. We pulled up in the car park of a country club and snacked on nutella sandwiches, mars bars and lollies. Again, not feeling too much like getting back on the bike we loitered around a bit and requested use of the clubs facilities in what I would call my French and the French would call indefinable.

Back on the bike and through more countryside we rode on all setting our own pace. Again I rode towards lunch always hoping that lunch will be called earlier than it was. We passed through a major town at 105km. We decided to ride on to the next town to so that we’d have less to do after lunch.

The next town was a small quaint town and we found a lovely patch of grass on someone’s front lawn to devour our lunch. We were all in pretty good spirits because we had less than 80k’s to go which felt like a walk in the park. And we were about to get a mars bar.

The tiny town which appeared to consist only of a restaurant, bar and post office was like a ghost town as everyone was on siesta, apart from a random dog who was desperate for some food. A few moments later the silence was shattered by the hum of a harley and the dogs owner turned up. Nance and I seized the opportunity to use the toilet in her house. I wouldn’t say she was overly happy about it and this could explain the limited reception when Nance tried to hand her a koala and a card but we were still very grateful.

The rest of the day passed by peacefully and uneventfully. The roads were rough and damaged and we couldn’t believe that tour would be riding on this. Most of the towns were already well underway with their repairs but the country roads didn’t seem to be getting the same amount of attention.

With just over 30k’s to go we stopped besides a cemetery in the middle of nowhere for some food. We were pretty happy with ourselves and our progress for the day. Only five stages beforehand we were pulling up stumps at 9.30, and now here we were enjoying an afternoon snack in the afternoon. For this reason we lingered for about half an hour before we got back on the bikes.

Maybe it was the cooling down, maybe my leg wasn’t used to this much work but just after the break it started hurting again. I was self conscious of complaining about my leg so tried to suck it up and keep going. The last twenty k’s of the day became very undulating and the boys widened their gap while I sulked quietly at the back. When they’d reached the amount of k’s required for the day they pulled up and waited for me to join them. I was so happy to reach them because I was done for the day. I’d been studying the speedo for the last five kilometers willing it to tick away so much faster than what it had been.

It’s fair to say Damian’s suggestion of riding a few more k’s to put in the bank was not received warmly from myself but I don’t like showing weakness so I kept going. After 500m I did suggest heavily that maybe that was enough for the day.
After an extra 2.5km and what appeared to be more and more uphill we did call it a day.

There is nothing better than finishing a stage and knowing that there is a rest day the next day. Coming a close second is pulling your squished feet out of your cycling shoes, taking you socks off and admiring your feet which now look like newborn twins.

We threw the bikes on the roof, (we being the men,) chucked some thongs on and attempted to minimize the stench in the car by getting changed. Well the guys did, I was happy to sit with my stink lines in the back. We headed to our hotel in Tonnerre that was an hour away. By the time we’d found it and unloaded the bikes, showered and changed it was 10.00 and we flew out of the hotel looking for the only open place in town that would serve us a huge meal followed by multiple crepes.

2009-01-11T00:26:00.000-08:00

Stage 12 - Tonnerre to Vatan (211.5km)

Stats: 211.70km 9hr 43min

Average Speed 21.77 Max speed 55.60

June 19th, 2009

Somewhat refreshed from our rest day we left at 7.30 which I thought was really good for us. A day that again was about distance and not hills we felt comfortable with this profile. Only five cat fours and a cat three. Easy.

The start of the day had us going through green forest so dense that it felt like it was an overcast day, then we’d emerge into a clearing and it was bright blue skies. We tried drafting off John to see what it was like but it didn’t really work so we settled into our normal pattern and I worked hard at the back trying to keep up. It was obvious though that the council in charge of this road didn’t take the tour going through lightly and the road was immaculate. I never ever thought I would be someone who appreciates a smooth road so much.

We found that if we stretched our break stops out a bit more it would make the day after lunch seem shorter. At 61km we found a gorgeous town that had a canal running through it and we pulled into the car park and had morning tea there. A French lady was intrigued with our paraphernalia and stopped for a chat. She spoke French, Nance spoke Italian and between the two of them some sort of communication was had. She told us she was 76 and used to ride a bike when she was younger. She also said bravo to me when she found out what we were doing. She was such a character and so cheery I wanted to put her in the support car.

Refreshed from food and conversation we got back on and rode towards the next mars bar. The terrain changed quite a bit and it seemed like we were in a different country compared to this mornings ride. The guys had broken away and Nance had gone ahead so I was bringing up the rear. I noticed that something wasn’t feeling right with my bike so I pulled over to put my bike mechanic course to the test. I found a driveway that lead to a paddock and turned Piaf upside down. Then I gave her a great big look. I couldn’t figure out what was wrong. I turned the front wheel, that still went. I turned the back wheel, that still went. Beats me. I turned her back up the right way and kept riding trying to chase down Nance and the boys, ignoring the soft thud I could feel.

By the time we reached our lunch stop I couldn’t notice the thud anymore and forgot about it. We found a nice quaint little spot in the car park of brick factory and used the brick piles as tables and chairs. We ate, drank, topped up our sunscreen, I tried to stall a bit longer but eventually we were on our way. Almost. I underestimated the grade of the driveway out and found myself unable to unclip in time. Just before I hit the deck still mounted on my bike I screamed to let everyone know to look at me. I have to work on that habit.

Dusting myself off and pretending I thought it was funny too we gave my bike the once over to make sure I hadn’t done any damage. I hadn’t but I found the cause of my soft thud. An egg had appeared on my tire. Not wanting to hold anyone up I decided to ride on, thank god John stepped in and told me that he wouldn’t let me go on with a tire like that. Damian said “alright, good luck with that. We’ll see you tonight.” I think John saw the panic on my face. I really hadn’t paid enough attention in the bike mechanic course and wasn’t quite sure how to change a tire. John helped me change the tire over (did the whole thing) and we started up again, bucks commenting on my new Punky Brewster wheels. It was 2.30 and we had 90k’s to go.

The rest of the afternoon was undulating and took us through some gorgeous little towns. They were all getting excited about the tour and were decorating their towns accordingly which got us excited about what we were doing.

After a quick defluid and refuel at a petrol station we kept going. Our last climb of the day found us at the top of the hill without John who’d gone to get some groceries. We didn’t have the maps or GPS with us and there was a fork in the road without signposts to let us know which way to go. Fortunately this fork was in the middle of a smallish town so we asked a local that was sitting on a step. I was a bit hesitant to ask as this very local had burst out laughing as we’d passed her, and she was still pretty keen to giggle her way through the conversation but eventually we got out of her which was the correct way.

100m down the road we realized that it was just a traffic island with buildings on it and they both met up with each other. Which I was pretty happy about, now I put her laughing down to our confusion rather than our looks.

It was only an extra 30k’s till we reached out hotel. I honestly couldn’t have ridden an extra 500m when we did eventually make it. I’d completely run out of energy and could feel myself slipping into that very tired state where I want to get off my bike and lie down for a while.

Our hotel, reminiscent of the Amityville horror, was suddenly bombarded with bikes, lycra, and tired people. After a cold shower we headed down to tea at the hotel restaurant.

2008-01-12T03:54:00.000-08:00

Stages 13 - 21

Are nearing completion and will be posted here very very soon.

Marika (20.01.10)