Having flown out to Nice in time to catch the Tour de France Team Time Trial, we headed up to Alpe d'Huez and took in some classic climbs such as Col d'Ornon, Col d'Izoard and Col de Sarenne, as well as a first ascent of the Alpe itself in the few days before the Marmotte.
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| Conquered the Col D'Izoard |
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| Descending Col D'Izoard |
Friday saw the usual bike fettling before the big day. For me that was brake pads only (very important for alpine descents), and for my friend Paul even less. The other critical activity was to discuss our target times. I knew that our very own Sarah (Maidment) had done a time of about 8 hours in 2012, so that was the target I had in my mind. However, when Chris started looking at results, I realised that to do something impressive, I needed to go a bit faster than that, so readjusted my target to a total riding time of 8 hours, which would mean that after the Glandon descent was subtracted, this would make me competitive in the women's ranks. Paul also readjusted his target in the same way.
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| Are you ready Paul? 6 AM Start! |
We had managed to get ourselves into the first start group, although it probably wouldn't have made a difference in the long run, so supposedly rolling out of Bourg d'Oisans at 7am on Saturday morning. The decision was made eventually that the most reliable way of getting to the start without a panic was to cycle down the Alpe in the morning, leaving at 6. We certainly weren't the only ones!! The scariest moment of the day was actually on this descent, when going into hairpin 21 (the bottom one), the bang of an exploding tyre was heard close behind us, followed by the yell of a guy to get out of his way and the crash of carbon hitting tarmac. That shook me up, and I was relieved to still be on two wheels.
While I was using the supermarket facilities, Paul discovered that he also had a flat, so had to use his spare tube up. We decided to go our separate ways much earlier than intended as Paul disappeared to go and find a spare to purchase, and I went to line up to start.
With transponders attached to bikes, your time starts as you cross the start timing mat, so no jostling for position is required. I found myself next to a group of guys from Kingston Wheelers, and spoke to them briefly. Then we were off.
Rolling down the valley surrounded by thousands of other cyclists was an experience I will never forget. Its nothing like road racing with the constant jostling for position - this was much more relaxed with everyone just going at the speed they wanted to and a decent amount of courtesy. Soon enough we zig-zagged our way across the dams (where Chris and Linda were cheering) and onto the foot of the Col du Glandon. I was conscious that I didn't want to burn myself out on this first climb of the day, but still found myself going past a lot more people than were coming past me. There seemed to be the hint of a group of us all climbing at roughly the same speed forming. There is a mini descent half way up the Glandon, where I saw my first and fortunately last crazy descending manouvre. Nearer the top I recall passing two Zappi's tops without acknowledging them. In hindsight I realised that one of these had almost certainly been Claire Leaver, and regretted not having said hello.
Following a fatality on the descent of the Col du Glandon a few years back, the organisers now neutralise this descent so that riders take it more steadily. This made me a bit nervous, as I know that I get scared if I go too fast when I can't see a clear road ahead of me. So, quite a few people who I had passed going up came back past me going down - although most did it sensibly. Even at this early stage, there were two heaps of man and carbon by the side of the road along the descent. Paul reported ambulances had arrived a few minutes later when he came down.
Once you pass the timing mat at the foot of the descent, there is a critical part of the route where you need to hide in the shelter of big strong men. Luckily for me, I timed it all quite well, and was able to power onto the back of a group with a nice friendly Swiss guy who looked after me for the whole of the next valley section, in a group of about 30 riders (me being the only girl). At this point it was interesting to note the general acceptance by men in Europe of strong female riders, when British men would have testosterone pumping at the fear of being 'chicked'.
Soon enough we arrived at the foot of the next climb, the Col du Telegraphe. I took the risk of ignoring the drinks station at the foot of the climb as I was still sitting pretty in my group of powerful men, but as soon as we were back onto a road with a gradient, it didn't matter any more as everyone went back to riding at their own pace. Some guys rode up the road ahead of me, but as many dropped back off my wheel. Near the top of this climb I caught up with a guy from London Dynamo who I had met on the train on the way back from the Fred Whitton earlier in the year. He picked up his pace to ride with me for a couple of minutes, then said goodbye and let me carry on my way. A quick stop at the top for bottle filling and I was on the descent to Valloires and the foot of the Col du Galibier.
By this time, the promised hot temperatures had arrived, and with no tree cover on the Galibier, it really did get hard. My pre-race plan stuck in my head - just ride at your own pace in a gear that allows you to spin without lactic building in the legs. The Galibier is long - really long! And just as you think you are nearly at the top, you crest a little hill, look up and see a stream of cyclists dotted all over a very steep snow covered slope, realising that the road zig-zags its way much further up than your current position. "Come on Karen, keep going".
Despite intending to stop at the top for a bite to eat, I was carried over the summit by my momentum and the realisation that I was probably now well ahead of my target time. Despite being shouted at by a couple of guys on the way down, I think the descent from the Galibier is one of the most enjoyable I've done, with good visibility on most of the bends, a good surface, and of course the knowledge that the road was closed, at least for this section. There is another 'col' part way down the descent when you join the main valley road between Bourg d'Oisans and Briancon, and I knew once I got down to there I could let myself go a bit more and start to try and grab some wheels to tow me down the valley. This didn't happen for a few miles more as the fast guys still took more risks into the corners than I wanted to take, but eventually a group came through from behind with a suitably timed slight uphill that allowed me to jump on.
The pleasure of riding downhill for such a long way is wonderful, even with the Alpe looming ever closer. I knew I needed to stop at the last feed station before starting the climb (having not stopped at the top of the Galibier I was running dry again), but still nearly missed it. Just as with the Telegraphe, the large group that had formed by the bottom of the Alpe split up immediately the gradient went up.
Knowing that I wasn't much more than an hour away from the finish, with a time of less than 7 hours on the clock (including the descent of the Glandon), I had my suspicions confirmed that I was ahead of schedule. This did not make the Alpe any easier. The air temperature by this time was well into the 30's, and riding uphill was just like riding against a wall of heat and pedalling through treacle. It was so hard that I can't find words to describe it. There were some very nice supporters on the side of the road who would pour water over your head on request, and plenty of GB flags that always got acknowledged. I knew that I hadn't 'bonked' and that whilst it felt hard, it was supposed to!
So it was just a matter of counting the hairpins down one by one, and soon enough, there I was at hairpin 4 on the outskirts of the main resort. At this point, crowds get larger and adrenaline kicks in (oh, and the gradient supposedly gets less) - you know you are nearly there and suddenly having done pretty much the whole climb on your own, there are many more riders on the road whose wheels you are catching.
Then, there I was, in the centre of the village, zooming through the final few hundred metres, Chris and Linda cheering at me from the side of the road, and the 'beep' of my transponder as I crossed the finishing line. My garmin said 7:56. Wow! I knew that my target had been sub 8-hour riding time, but in such hot conditions you never know how your body is going to respond. I climbed off my bike and collapsed over it, unable to stand up straight or sit down or control my emotions. My bodily functions had packed in, and my feet were burning up. It seemed an age before Chris managed to make his way over to find me for my reward cuddle - what a proud husband he was. After a few more minutes, we managed to make it over to the diploma tent and the moment of truth - the time that would appear in the results - an astonishing 7:22.
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| Medaille D'or a Tout! |
The next hour was spent recovering and waiting for Paul, who also smashed his target time, and fortunately hadn't had the bad luck of mechanical issues he had experienced on the Fred Whitton. My achievement was sinking in slowly, but needed a look at the displayed results to hit home. The fastest woman had done 6:45, I was 5th in my age group (35-49 - the strongest female age group), and an amazing 7th woman overall; needless to say the fastest brit (although both Claire Leaver at 7:26 and Vicky Ware at 7:44 gave me a run for my money!).
So, will this lead to something new? Who knows - it certainly beats road racing any day!!!
