I’m in France, following Le Tour. I’m posting up to Facebook and Picasaweb.com/whareagle, so check it out there. I will try to write about the trip in detail either Sunday or on the flight back. Honestly, it’s been epic, but it hasn’t been one where I’ve gotten much sleep since riding began, and today I just cratered. I’ll post verbal details and descriptions of the images when I can. Until then, enjoy the photos.
Archive Page 2
23
Jul
09
Where have I been?
A Cluttered look at Frontal Surface Area.
Another cluttered look at aerodynamic profiling
Well, I need to start by summarizing what the last two weeks have been like. I returned to Dallas on a Monday, and when I got off the plane in Dallas, the heat and humidity hit me like a moist brick. Welcome to summer! I was supposed to race down in Fredericksburg, TX the last weekend of June, but honestly, I was pretty exhausted, and I ended up basically just using my commuter bike to ride around town, and even then, not much. Sleep came and went, a checkup with my doctor came and went, it continued to get hotter, and the ozone levels started to peak in the orange and red areas.
But this weekend, the Tour de France began, and my fast-bike juices started roiling again. The Stage 1 TT was held in Monaco, and we sat in front of the TV for about 3+ hours as we watched Lance set the early fastest time, eclipsed by Levi and a Columbia rider, and then finally by some of the other GC favorites, including two other Astana riders. I’d been asked about participating in the Texas State Time Trial Championships in August, and I still hadn’t quite gotten my TT saddle adequately broken in or adjusted right, so I decided right then and there that I would drive over to the Texas Motor Speedway on Sunday morning and go do a 40K TT on my P3.
Now, all of this was supposed to happen at around 5am, but when the buzzer went off, my hesitancy was rewarded with the sound of RAIN falling outside! YES! So I rolled over and went back to sleep until well after 8am, when the Tour stage came on. That provided another excuse to delay, and I didn’t get out until after 1 o’clock.
The good news is that the rain had kept the temperatures around 82 degrees fahrenheit. The bad news was that there were scattered showers all over the place, and I got rained on lightly as I drove out there.
Now, laugh all you want, but when I do these workouts, I do them with all my kit on. That means aero helmet, skinsuit, booties, the works. I do this because A) I don’t get to mess around with my expensive stuff much, and B) I like to truly simulate what it’s going to take in terms of heat and suffering in a lid with tiny vents, and a zipper pulled up to the neck, to finish the damned 40K in the most aero position possible. Every second counts, right?
So I programmed the Garmin to advance laps every 8K, then put labels on my aero wings to try and come up with a good time-based pacing strategy. I was going to let wattage take care of itself. The Quarq was zeroed and calibrated perfectly, the Garmin was accurate to within 2 meters, and I started from a track stand.
Lap 1 was supposed to be a 12:20 – a slow way to work yourself up from negative splits/positive watts, but I ended up blowing through the damned thing at an 11:38. That proved to be the fastest lap of the ride, with the others coming in, albeit consistently, at 11:55, 11:51, 12:02, and 11:54. Negative splits? Hah! I was lucky to have broken the hour! My power was low, averaging 232 PNorm, as was my cadence (80 rpm), and my freakin’ HR was at 180-190 bpm the whole time! NUTS! What happened?
Tail between my legs, and about to pass out in the humidity (the rain fell just enough to make humidity soar beyond 80%, not enough to actually accomplish anything in terms of cooling me down), I sat in the car with the A/C on, and finally drove home, only to hear that Andy Roddick, still playing the best game in the history of Tennis, had made one small mistake and lost the Wimbledon Finals to Roger Federer-er. Fortunately, I hadn’t been racing. Otherwise, I would’ve been last place in the 3’s probably. Ugh. I finally made it back home to look at the numbers and start figuring out what happened, and then also try to figure out ‘what if’?
The good news is the consistency. The average lap was an 11:52, with a +- of -13, +10, and the wattage numbers were really interesting, going in this order:
1) 246 – 11:39
2) 232 – 11:56
3) 230 – 11:51
4) 224 – 12:02
5) 228 – 11:54
So, depending on how you look at it, and how consistent I was in terms of standing or staying in the aero bars, 4 watts between laps 4 and 5 bought me 8 seconds. Yet I must’ve stood longer on the 5th kilometer of lap 2, because while I was 2 watts stronger on Lap 2, I was 5 seconds slower than on lap 3. Lap 4, I know exactly what happened – I mentally quit for about 10 seconds, in an effort to try and force my heart rate down. I know, I know, I’m not supposed to use HR, but it IS effective, especially in situations just like this, when the heat and humidity combine to provide stressors that you’re not accustomed to. Want to adapt to heat and humidity? Ride in it!
I also played around with some values in Analyticcycling.com, in an effort to figure out how aero I was with that kit on, and in those conditions. After tooling around with it quite a bit, I came up with this:
If you take the 232w I averaged, the distance traveled, and the time required to travel that distance, then add in air density (taken from Alliance Airport’s weather station), and temperature, you get a pretty good idea of just what your Frontal Surface Area is. In this case, for me, it was 0.47m^2. When you multiply it by 0.5 (don’t ask me why), you come up with CdA, which in this case reads .235. From experience trolling the bike geek forums, I think this is a pretty low number. It may actually be TOO low, in that it may be affecting my overall ability to generate such power, though I’m hoping that this is not the case, and let me explain that next.
Let’s play ‘what if’. What if I had been able to generate 250w. I’ve done it out there before, and finished with a faster time, though never with a value as accurate as it was with the GPS. 232w yielded 11.22m/sec. 250w would have yielded 11.54m/sec, a gain of 2.77%.
Then, as we edge up to 260w, you get an average speed of 11.7m/sec, a gain of 1.3675%…
Finally, if we move up to 267w, which is supposedly close to the FTP I would have had in mid-June at sea level, given the fact that I was at a theoretical FTP of 297/60 in a road racing position, and you’re theoretically supposed to drop your FTP by about 10% when you move in to the aero position (changes in hip angles, compressed lungs, etc.), you come up with 267. So, it’s a theoretical number based on two separate guesses, but they’re sort of standardized, so yeah, let’s see what 267 yields…
11.82m/s, or 1.0152% in delta over 260w.
SO —-
An almost linear increase in wattage, would yield a diminishing curve of speed improvements. Granted – the improvements would still have led to a 40k time of 56:24.1 (a new PR by well over a minute), but this exercise is meant to show just how incredibly hard it is to get time gains just by pedaling harder.
Now, let’s throw one or two more wrenches in the gearing.
Once again, don’t laugh, but this morning I actually rode with my Dinotte lighting 200’s on, front and rear. One mounted on the left wing, one under the saddle. This was for safety at 5:30am. However, I didn’t remove them when I rode at 1pm. That, plus the fact that I moved back to an aluminum seatpost on the aluminum P3, made the thing weigh in at about 22lbs. Let’s say I rode the thing ‘clean’, sans lights, and batteries. Let’s remove 1 kilo from the 232w equation, and 1cm^2 from the surface area…
11.31m/s… a gain of 0.8%, which would’ve yielded a 40K of 58:52.9 seconds.
Huh.
30 seconds cut just by removing ‘that much’ drag. WOW.
Let’s cut the weight a bit more – I’ll switch back to a carbon seatpost… .5 kilos.
Uh oh. The benefit? ZERO. Nothing. Still 11.31m/s.
Let’s now get radical. Say I hit the lottery and can afford to buy a P3 Carbon… We’ll lose another 2 kilos…
A measly .02 meters/second gain. BUT WAIT – there’s supposed to be some aerodynamic advantage to the P3!! Maybe we drop the Frontal Surface Area by another 2cm^2?
KABOOM! A MONDO gain in speed! 11.45m/s! COOL! And all of this, at 232w!!!!
So what’s the moral here? I think the moral is that while I love wattage, love studying it, applying it, and finding ways to get more of it, aerodynamics is a VERY, CLOSE, COUSIN.
So don’t be afraid to invest in aerodynamic improvements. To achieve a sub-60 40k for me, at just 232w, is actually pretty freakin’ cool. Discs help, Aero front wheels help, narrow tires help, aero helmets help (a ton), and ALL of this combines to yield better speed for less energy. I’m still going to crush my nether regions in August and a lot next year in an effort to gain more power in the aero position, but as of right now, I’m saving up for a TT vunderbike to replace my P3. Who knows, it may even be ANOTHER P3, but as of Saturday, and maybe even when I first saw one at the Baker City race in Oregon, I’ve got total silly pants bike lust for a Ridley.
If my wife reads this, she’s absolutely going to KILL me.
Thanks for re
23
Jun
09
Elkhorn Classic Stage 4 results
Uh, nothing to report here. What was going to be a 105 mile race instead turned in to a 19 mile hillclimb due to severe inclement weather. I think I finished in the 30’s, but the weather worked against the officials, as their camera was on the wrong side, and the fog affected the readings. Oh well. Not a biggie. Great weekend, fun time, but cold & wet. I needed 20 miles just to open up my legs!!
23
Jun
09
Stage 3 Crit results
Its going to be hard to get the images on here immediately, but it’s now Tuesday, and ya’ll need to know the rest of the story.
The afternoon crit went well. I rode very aggressively, and raced hard for 2 or 3 primes, just missing out on each one. For the last prime, even though I missed the cash, I dashed on and kept going, only just getting caught by the pack on the last lap. Unfortunately, I was gassed, so I struggled to hold on to a Top 10 in the sprint. As you know, I’m no sprinter, so I slipped back to 11th. NUTS.
Still, it was a great 45 minutes, I had a strong showing, I hope they got some good photos – the ones my friends took were awesome, and I’ll post them as soon as I can find the time. No change in GC.
20
Jun
09
Update to the update, and images
Moved up from 32nd in GC to 29th in GC, 4:16 back! I can DO THIS! I KNOW I can!!
Here are images from the past 2-3 days.
http://picasaweb.google.com/Whareagle/ElkhornClassicStageRaceJune2009#
20
Jun
09
Update on Stage 2
20th place! That’s got to be worth SOMETHING in the GC! Will post those results shortly.
Ready to Roll
Well, I gave it everything I had. I think I’ve got one of the most aero positions possible, with a back that is as flat as can be, and a helmet that merges with it perfectly. Power was down today, though I know that’s a combination of the position, elevation, and fatigue. I never caught my 30-second man, but I kept him close, and he caught his 30-second man, so I have some hope that I didn’t lose time. I was never passed, and at the turnaround, I know I had a large gap. I hope I kept that. Wattage was in the 250’s. The wheels were perfect, and the 55 chainring worked well. Spencer rode a 23:20, and the other two guys were probably faster. This is just something I need to work on. The saddle largely worked. It’s better out on the road than indoors. I’ll tweak it a little bit, but I’m going to have to go out to the Motor Speedway more often.
Crit is at 5:30 local time. It should be dry, so I’m going to go for a top 6 in this one and see if I can garner some upgrade points.
The DeSalvo Team with Mark from Landshark and myself post TT
20
Jun
09
Governor Vetoes SB 488
BUT, here’s another perspective that might merit thought and pause. Me? I WANT EDUCATION! EDUCATE MORE CYCLISTS!
http://cycledallas.blogspot.com/2009/06/reason-prevails.html
19
Jun
09
Elkhorn Classic Day 1 – 73 miles
Oh man. I am BEAT. Beat, but UP beat!
The view from the first feed zone
I’m up here in Oregon, in Baker City, attending the Elkhorn Classic, a 4 stage race held on the solstice weekend annually. Spencer, my buddy that lives up here, brought two teammates with him, David and Matt, and we all hit it off immediately. On Thursday afternoon, we actually drove the course for Stage 1, showing the two newbies, Dave and Matt, the nuances of the course.
The first 35 miles are mostly downhill, as you leave Baker City and follow some green farmland and basically parallel the Interstate, though you can’t hear it. Then, you cross under I-84 and head out in to some hills, where the real action begins. There is a wind farm at the head of the valley, so we ride right underneath them, and then get in to a canyon which takes us to another tiny village, and then IT IS ON, with a 14-mile climb, the last of which is at maybe 7 to 10%. After that, though, it doesn’t get any easier, because you end up on the high prairie desert, and there’s this black ribbon of road that just winds its’ way back to Baker City, over hill and down dale, following creeks, climbing up rolling hills, until it finally drops you down in to a flat runout to the finish line, which is near the Baker City airport.
Spencer (left) and Matt (right)
I had prepared for this since November. I had followed a strategic plan to show up stronger than ever, and to compete, rather than just survive. Spencer was also ready, and from the conversations with David and Matt, I was convinced that they were in great shape as well.
We started off at 1:40pm from Baker City High School, and within a mile, a friend I’d made here last year, George Chiou, showed up at the front of the race, and started setting a HIGH pace. Spencer stayed up there with me, and together, we took roughly 2 minute pulls, keeping the pace high, keeping the pack single-file, and basically screaming down the valley. Others took some good pulls, but George and Spencer and I were the instigators. However, both George and Spencer pointed out, after about an hour, that a storm was brewing in the EXACT direction we were headed.
Mountain storms in the summer are nothing to sneeze at. I remember one time in July of 1994, when my friend Jeremy and I were mountain biking in Montana, and we got stuck in a storm that dumped snow, ice, and lightning, in our midst. It scared the absolute bejeebers out of me, and I remember being cold for days afterwards, when we were essentially rescued by a neighbor. Anyway, that’s a digression.
On the first real climb up to the first feed zone, I OWNED IT, and I pulled and guttered as many people as I could. Spencer later told me that I actually SPLIT THE FIELD! 90 people started this event, so I was STOKED that this flatlander was able to climb at least somewhat with the locals. But as SOON as we hit the feed zone, the rain started. Now, this is not typical Oregon weather. Usually, when I come out here, it’s dry and hot. But this year, the weather pattern was different. It had started raining earlier in the day, and had not let up until the start of the race, so we had a nice break from the weather for about an hour, maybe longer. But when this stuff hit, it hit hard, it hit dark, and it came down in a cold, quarter-size drop DELUGE.
Instantly the pack went on the defensive. Gaps betwen wheels were longer, and we single-filed to the center of the road, to try and avoid the deeper wheel wells, which were quickly filling with 4+cm of rain. For a short while, George told me that we had a gap of about 10 seconds, so the two of us, with about 7 others, tore it up through some tight, twisty roads, and tried to get a gap. It lasted maybe a minute. Damn. The rain kept coming down, though, and I was glad I had my leggings on, because for a while there I started quaking. That settled down, however, when we got to Union, and started the climb that would define the race.
The climb is about 14 miles long, and it starts gradually, but then pitches up to the point where the gradient is about 8% or more for short periods of time. But it is relentless, and the rain, accompanied with the short range of vision due to the twists and turns, really sort of hampered our ability to predict what was coming around the next corner. But about 4 miles in, Matt came up to the front, and within a mile, with two riders about 20 seconds off the front, I launched him and he was able to bridge up to those guys, and form a working break. It was AWESOME! I stayed at or near the front, but my pulls were so-so, as Matt pulled away with the other two guys. Several attacks to try and close the gap were nullified by me, and I found that as we near the crest, I was actually holding on to the leaders pretty darned well.
But about 1.5 miles from the top, maybe 1.2, after urging myself on and on and on, I just couldn’t hold on with the leaders, and I fell back. I hate getting gassed, and I hate getting passed. But this hill, at this gradient (one of the steepest parts), and given my flair for pushing and pulling from the front too early, too much (man, Jason, what was I thinking?), just combined to make my legs and lungs swell up and lock. Well, not really, but it was just enough to fall back. David passed me, but I was too out of breath to tell him about Matt being up the road. It took about 30 seconds for me to get my head back in to the game, but by then, the pack had slid past and I was fighting for scraps.
But this time, I didn’t lose my head. I kept pushing, and I rallied, and I got over the pass less than a minute away from the pack, which was down to less than 30 riders. There was another group in between, and then scattered riders in 2’s and 3’s. I grabbed a bottle, left a bottle, and then raced like a demon down the back side of the pass and on to the plain in between the area where the rolling hills are. George rejoined me (he had also been dropped – still no sign of Spencer, though, which was surprising), and we all grouped up to try and paceline it back to the main field.
We were doing pretty well at this, when, weirdly, my right calf, and my left hamstring, started to give me some weird sensations of pre-cramping. What made it weird was that they never seized outright, and the weather (wet and cold, yet the legs were wrapped in a pair of leg warmers, nevermind the fact that I’d been religiously holding to my schedule to drink my EFS every 15 minutes, finishing a bottle an hour, just so I wouldn’t cramp) should’ve been more to my liking. I did everything I could, but my legs were definitely ‘off’, and I communicated this to the grupetto that I was in, trying to stay with them and contribute, but unable. Everyone was great about it, however, and they let me try to massage my hamstring and calf, and eventually, maybe 2 minutes later, the twitching went away, and I freakin’ climbed the first 1-minute hill from the front!
With 20 miles to go, the agenda now was to do everything possible to mitigate time losses, and try to bridge with the larger pack. Slowly, we reeled other riders in, but our efforts were just always a little off, and try as we might, we never got inside a minute on the front pack. The good news is that we were just a minute or so off, maybe a little more, but the bad news was that we were never good enough at reeling in the bigger fish, nor were we strong enough to keep the pack together. Riders dropped off like flies, leaving us with a core group of 6 + 3. Somewhere on one of the 3-minute hills, George and two others got away, and stayed about 30 seconds ahead until we got within 3 miles of the finish.
When we finally regrouped, I told everyone that we were now riding for nothing but time, and that we could minimize the gap by working together. We actually sort of did, for a while, but in the end, I think I finished about 4 minutes off the front, together with George. However, the entire pace of the race had been so high over it’s entire duration, that we were FIFTEEN MINUTES faster than last year, and I know I was somewhere in the mid 30’s or 40’s, well above the 86th position that I got in the Stage 1 race last year. Matt finished slightly ahead of me, and David was in that main pack at the front, or just behind it.
But where was Spencer?
Sadly, Spencer, who had been having a banner day at Elkhorn in the first half of the race, fell victim to a flat, on the main climb, just feet from where the gradient went from moderate to steep. He lost a minute in the wheel exchange, then soloed in the rest of the way, finishing 7 minutes down. He’s had a lot of flats this year, and he’s got some of the most puncture proof tires in the business, and whatever Karma he’s ticked off, his debt has been more than paid. BUT, we were all still in good enough spirits, and we all animatedly talked about the race, our strategy, and what we should do next.
I could go on, but I’m exhausted, and this is detailed enough. Placings haven’t been posted, but I’ll put up what I know when I know it, and I’m going to bust patootie on the TT and crit tomorrow, in the hopes that I’ll move up in the GC. Of course, that’s everyone’s strategy, so you never really know. Still, I’m satisfied with my effort, feel like I came here strong enough to do well, and I did.
Sidebar – unfortunately, I have no wattage information. Apparently the flight up here affected the PM on my road bike, via the compression/decompression of the cargo hold in the aircraft, so I’ll be sending in my unit come Tuesday. That means no wattage info on Stages 1,3, and 4. The TT bike’s unit still works, but I’ll be ‘going commando’ for the duration of the weekend on my road bike. It’s unfortunate, but it hasn’t dampened my enthusiasm for the Quarq or for the race.
See ya’ll tomorrow after the TT, and then again after the Crit!! Pray for drier weather!!
Covering France
Tags: Marty Jemison, Tour de France, Travel
View of Paris' Les Invalides
The 2009 Tour de France cycling trip that Amy and I took last month was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done on two wheels. The rides were epic, with long, steep cols, variable weather, unbelievable crowds, and limited options. I’m proud of my wife for riding as much and as well as she did, but we both think this will be our last “Tour” trip for a while.
The trip started out pretty well. Amy was due for a relaxing time, and the three days that we spent in Paris, adapting to the jet lag, and temperature changes, were fantastic. We slept, ate at small cafes, walked all over the city, finally went to the Louvre, visited the French Air & Space Museum, and watched the Tour de France, in French, on television. We had the pleasure of staying at the home of one of Amy’s friends while she was out of town, so it was even more comfortable and quiet.
Carpaccio!
I think we slept for hours every day. Napping, sleeping in, etc. The town was almost too quiet, though, and we speculated that it must have been because of vacations or maybe even the economy. The tourist sites were busy as usual, but the residential areas were sparse, kind of peaceful, kind of creepy, too. It rained every evening just a bit, and the cooler temps were welcome, coming from our hotter ‘n hades home in Texas.
I have to give two quick shouts out about some things. First off, our host had a ‘Nespresso’ machine, which completely rocked! Here’s a photo of it.
Mmm! Nespresso!
Second, we ate a great meal in MontMartre area, and watched a stage finish of the Tour at the restaurant. The proprietor, however, was a cyclist, and he couldn’t wait to show us his new mountain bike! So here ya go, Frankie! And thanks for the good time!
My friend Frankie
Amy and Richard in Montmartre
The second half of our trip began on a Monday, when we went in to the Gare de Lyon train station, bike boxes in tow, and loaded up on a TGV headed to Annecy. For those of you who haven’t traveled via TGV bullet train, you really do have to experience it. Smooth and fast transit, with comfortable seats, are the rule, and everything in France is literally within 4 hours of Paris. Amy slept most of the way, but I read a book, and watched the world pass by. I got especially interested once the terrain became more and more mountainous. Several other cyclo-tourists were on the train, and it was a bit of a jumble to get the bikes out, with all the people pressing to exit. But no worries.
We arrived in Annecy right on schedule, and were met by two of our guides, who helped us carry our luggage to the “Hotel d’Annecy”, an awesome 4-star establishment right in the heart of the city. Annecy is a spectacular and scenic town, in the heart of the French Alps. Lac d’Annecy is a cold, clear, glacier-fed lake that is a small version of Lake Tahoe, complete with some casinos. We got our room, moved our bike boxes up to the mechanics to assemble, grabbed a salad at a cafe, and then rested up for an afternoon ride.
Heading out
Marty Jemison and his wife, Jill, have been hosting bike trips for almost a decade now, and they still make an effort to personalize each event, and accommodate everyone. While it doesn’t always turn out that way, they certainly do try. However, I think the enormity of this year’s Tour, with the return of Lance Armstrong bringing over a million extra people a day to the stages, led to logistical issues that no one could have adequately prepared for. For us, the tour was good, but it did leave us with fewer cycling options, and the physical demands conspired against Amy the whole week.
Amy at Lac d'Annecy
Our first ride was a tour around Lac d’Annecy. It was mostly flat, and mostly on the region’s extensive bike trail system. The day was gorgeous – sunny, warm but not hot, and mild breezes. Everyone stayed together, except on the one significant hill, where Marty and I got up to our old game of ‘rabbit’, where I would go, he would chase me down, and I would then work doubly hard to stay on his wheel. This time, it worked, and I passed him before the final hairpin to get to the top of the hill first. It was awesome! We waited for everyone to arrive up the hill, took some photos, and then descended for the hotel, a quick shower, and a great meal.
Richard in his VES jersey
One of the fun things about taking a trip like this is that you get to meet new people and make new friends. This is exactly what happened that first evening with the group. We walked to a great restaurant, were seated randomly, and ended up dining with a couple from Cincinatti, as well as one from Durango.
New friends
Throughout the course of the evening, Amy and I learned that the Durango couple were native Texans who had fallen in love with the Western Slope, and the Cincinatti couple included a Level 2 coach for USAC. So we had a great evening getting to know each other. The coup de grace was that it was Michael’s birthday, and the restaurant had a unique tradition for celebrating those, which you’ll see in the photo below.
Um....
We woke up to a cloud-covered, cool day, ate a decent buffet breakfast, and then headed out from the hotel for a trip along the lakeside to Albertville. Once there, we stopped, had some food and drinks, and then Marty led us up a quiet road, surrounded by dark green trees and tall grass, and for the next 93 minutes, we climbed… and climbed… and climbed… AND climbed… up the Col de Roselend. It was awesome! It was epic! It was… SO FREAKING HARD!!! WOW! Holy Cow I never thought I was going to see flat terrain again! At one point, Marty was pulling us, and we went around a left-hand hairpin, and BAM. He just rolled away. One foot became five, then ten, as he and several others passed me, and I had to start dialing it back. I was embarrassed. I was angry with myself. But there was no stopping now! We passed through a town famous for its’ cheese, but I didn’t really see too much else except trees, pavement, grey sky, and other riders’ wheels.
Slowly, and surely, I started to reel people back in, and by the time we got to the ‘Chateau de Roselend’, the first flat spot, but NOT the end of the climb, I was 3rd, behind Marty and a fantastic rider named Victor, from Durango.
Victor made it all look easy
RW at the Chateau de Roselend
I’d climbed most of it alone, but had ridden with some people from our group as I came up on them. We stopped, got some water, waited for a few people, and then Marty and I rode up to the crest of the Roselend Pass together, while Victor basically cruised up past us, finishing first and getting to the sandwiches a good 10 minutes ahead of us. Average power for the first part of the climb was 229w, a solid Tempo pace, for 93 minutes. It still felt like the hardest thing I had done on a bike. Ever.
Roselend Pass
We ate lunch, waited for others to make their way up the mountain, and then descended down the back side, over what must have been about 4 dozen switchbacks. We landed in Bourg St. Maurice a few hours ahead of the racers, found a great spot to sit, drink some soda, and soak in the atmosphere, and watched the circus.
And the Tour de France really IS a circus! It’s a 3 week festival of sweat, scenery, support, and unbelievable sights. Think of the race course as a 90 to 120 mile parade route, and almost every meter along the way, you get to see people celebrating and rooting for their team, their favorite cyclist, or just enjoying the spectacle. Motorhomes abound. Children cheer with their grandparents. People from dozens of different cultures around Europe, the US, and Latin America set up tents, listen to commentary on the radio, watch fuzzy TV’s, and wait patiently for the caravan of promoters to come by and deliver what must be thousands of pounds of goodies along the way. And the racers? Um, you get to see them for maybe 2 to 5 seconds, and the whole thing is over in less than half an hour in most cases. Then they pack up and head out and do it all over again somewhere else along the way!
What is that? Oh, a YETI.
In Bourg St. Maurice, we were stationed at the 300m mark, and we saw the caravan come through several times. They tend to do this at finish areas – the parade will loop through multiple times before the racers get close, so that everyone gets a chance at a free cap, some “Livestrong” chalk, etc. It’s kind of fun, even if it’s people-watching. And again, the racers? Um, we barely caught their jerseys as they flashed between crowds on either side of the barricades. The cars were there, and we heard the crowd’s roar, but that was kind of it. Not a letdown, just a different perspective of the race.
After that was over, we were all packed in to the vans again, for a climb back up the Roselend Pass, and a descent and turn off to a part of the course for the next day. We then climbed and descended through two more villages, perched on some REALLY steep terrain, and beside some REALLY steep gullies, and some REALLY narrow roads, to get back to Annecy. It had been a long day, and I was definitely ready for the hotel room and some dinner.
Easy way to get carsick
I’m going to stop here, and post this, along with a few photos, so you can read it and enjoy. I’ll try to catch up some more tomorrow if time permits.