This time last year, I was here:
Today (and lately), I’m here:
Tomorrow, I’m supposed to be here:
Kind of wondering how it’s all going to work out…
I’m here… I’m here.
Category: Travel
10.
Oh! Right! I have a blog.
Where was I?? It’s been *crickets* around here lately, haven’t been very inspired to write. Fell off the training wagon (that big THUD you heard a few weeks back). Trying to claw my way back on, but it keeps rolling about 3 feet away like that annoying big brother would do when you were trying to open the car door to get in and all the cool kids were watching.
Anyway, moving on. I was thinking about something to write and figured that if the expression”a picture is worth a thousand words” is still true, then I’ll do a photo post and be miles ahead.
Ever wonder if you can define your life in photos? In 10 photos or less? I pretty much can, I think these sum up my day-to-day nicely these days. What about you?
Edited to add: I wrote this post on Thursday of last week… On Monday I started a new job. So! Add a shot of a different deskin an actual office with humans and a water cooler and a boardroom and a shot of an alarm going off at 5:30am and there you have it. My life.
Kona
In my humble opinion, there are very few redeeming qualities to the month of February. Possible exceptions are the skiing and the fact that it has fewer days than other months. I tend to find myself willing the days to lengthen and surfing the inter webs for last minute travel deals to warmer climes, despite knowing I’ll likely never book one. This winter has been particularly grey in pemberton, which isn’t helping my relationship with February.
This time last year I knew I had a are in Kona to work towards and look forward to. Thinking about this the other day, I realized I have never posted the race report…which I wrote on the place ride home from that race! I then considered posting it on the anniversary of the race but that seemed silly, even for me. So without further delay… Kona 2011!
We’d been planning this race for about a year… So to finally get on the plane and head to Kona was a bit of a relief. Training had been different from what I had hoped. I am generally pretty good about following a training plan to an 85% “t”: I do exactly what I am told 85% of the time and the next 15% I either blow the training off completely or do exactly what I feel like it, which is frequently nothing. This time, however, it was more like 60/40. A combination of life, kids and some pretty atrocious spring weather conspired to make it a little harder than I had anticipated to get everything done that I had hoped. That said, I know that when I race I pretty much never want to make a fool of myself or let myself down so I knew what I had to do come race day.
Our trip over was smooth and we were completely spoiled by the ultra fantastic accommodation thanks to Sarah allowing to share her beautiful Kona home. W arrived, settled in and rested up.
It was my first time in Kona and it was pretty great to see the infamous ironman sites that I had seen so many times in magazines and on tv. Lava Java did not disappoint! The days leading up to the race were spent getting race ready, getting in a few last minutes sessions, taking in some of the scenery, getting Sarah immersed in the world of triathlon and basically turning her into a tri nerd. 2 things during the lead up stand out: my most favorite was without a doubt swimming next to some dolphins at the pier ( this despite the fact that when I first saw them I thought they were sharks, oops. Swallowed a lot of water there). Next was attending the pro meeting which Chrissy convinced us we would enjoy and “blend right in!” Uh, yeah. We didn’t exactly blend in (hi, Chris Lieto! You’re pretty cute) or learn much but it was fun…
Race day morning came, as it always does, much too early for my taste. I always have to fight the desire to roll over and say ” meh, I’ll just race later”. We did eventually all pile into our sweet minivan and make our way to the transition in the dark.
A few last minute tweaks, load up nutrition and check the bike and it was finally down to the beach for body marking and the swim start.
I dazzled with my focus at the start. So much so, in fact, that I was so intent on looking at my watch that I didn’t even notice the big wave that rolled in and literally knocked me into a sweet backwards somersault! Awesome. That certainly took the edge off.
It’s no secret that I am not exactly Summer Sanders and I did not disappoint! I came out in a nice casual time of that which shall not be mentioned in print. If you care, you can google it. I certainly didn’t care, I was just so damn happy to be done (and see my friend Danny and his son Tyler!) That swim was rough! Crowded and messy. Oh well, I managed to run up the long hill to transition and get to my bike relatively quickly.
Once onto the bike I knew it was important to stay conservative until the turnaround and I did. I didn’t particularly enjoy the ride and found it hard to kick my own ass on the way to Hawi. I saw Sarah on her way home from Hawi and decided I should probably put my head down for a while to try to catch her. I finally caught her on the hill back to the Queen K and was happy for us to ride back to the transition together.
Handed off my bike in a rather disorganized fashion and put on my shoes and grabbed some sunscreen to start the hot-very-hot run. The first 2 miles felt amazing. I can do this! I am winning this thing! And then… Miles 3-7 not so much with the winning… I was hot, kind of over it, my mind was wandering. Saw Chrissy running just back of Bree and cheered her on, it was great to see her running strong. I was also quite jealous that she was almost done. By the time I hit mile 8 I got some energy back and had quite enjoyed weaving up and over and through the golf course. 5 miles? Pshh. I got this. So easy. And then, I went to what Danny affectionately calls “hell’s kitchen”. Yeah, pretty much the most miserable stretch of pavement anywhere. A brutal 2 or 3 mile out and back that seems to never end.
Well, end it finally did and I made it back out onto the golf course and could taste the finish line. However, not before a lovely little Japanese racer passes me whilst running in his crocs. Sigh. That was humbling.
Finish chute! So long! Such a teeny finish arch! So happy to take off my damn shoes! Race done and dusted. I was happy with my time but not ecstatic. Pleasantly satisfied?
I did thoroughly enjoy the post-race-beer-and-chips-lying-on-an-ocean-side-massage table. Doesn’t get much sweeter than that…
So there you have it. That was the last real race I did in 2011! That was a bit unusual for me, but I was ok with it. After several years of racing, it was time to give my mind and body a break and focus on doing sport for fun. Which isn’t to say I didn’t miss it somewhat because I’ll be back out there this summer… As tanned as ever!
That thing I said I did
Early on in the Games, I opened my big mouth and said I’d jump from the 10m platform. I was all bravado until Todd and I went up to take pictures… and then all of a sudden I just wasn’t so sure.
The final day of competition came and my big mouth came back to haunt me. Luckily, I had company. Rachel and I went through with it… twice!
I can confirm that I couldn’t really breathe up there and that I never have to do this again.
And the proof:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NeLDlUGGT3A
New York!
It’s hard to figure out where to start to describe this race and this experience! I can safely say that EVERY ONE of my runner friends should put this race on their “must do” list. It was fun, hard, eye-opening, humbling and exciting. There’s nothing quite like running by 2.5 million people to make you feel like some kind of hero!Jay flew to the East Coast a few days ahead of me and met me in New York. I landed in the evening so after checking in, we had to walk around and see some sights. We had yummy Chinese (not readily available in Pemberton…) and went to Times Square to check it out. Even at 11:30pm it was crawling with people.
Country folk in the big cityI broke every “pre-marathon” rule I could think of: stay off your feet, don’t eat anything new, rest, hydrate… didn’t matter though. It was NYC, I had to plans to spend the day in a hotel room watching Oprah! Friday we walked around, did some shopping (first stop: F.A.O Schwartz!) and ate a hot dog. We had dinner with some friends and met up with Erin who was in town to run, too. Her first marathon!
This looked a little different on Sunday, too…
registration!
Sub-Elite E and me. See that behind us? That would be DARKNESS.
Elite women headed to the start
Everybody else headed to the start
Me and Mel
Minutes before the start
Brooklyn!
Finally!
I was actually looking forward to this.
Big Piano at FAO Schwartz
Yummy
Scoping out the course on Friday. It didn’t look anything like this on Sunday.
Couldn’t do this Sunday!
This looked a little different on Sunday, too…
Sub-Elite and me.
Times Square
Saturday was reserved for marathon stuff. We went to pick up our packages at the Javitz Center (our plans to get there first thing were slightly foiled by more shopping…) The closer we got the more the sidewalks got clogged with runners. I couldn’t believe how huge the center was and there were big line-ups to get to registration. Amazingly, we blew through there in about 15 minutes: you can tell the organizers had done this before! After a quick tour through the expo it was a bit more sightseeing then back to the room for some rest and race prep.
The international flavour of this marathon is undeniable. Our hotel was filled with Italians, Germans, Andalusians (!) and others, all there to run the marathon. Every official kiosk had translators available. It certainly makes it feel like a big race.
registration!
Race day! We had a 4:30am wake up call for a race that started at 9:40am. Slightly bleary-eyed we made our way to the lobby (as Jay rolled over and went back to sleep – smart man) which was teeming with people. Grabbed a coffee and headed to the subway which took us to the ferry to Staten Island. It was dark and raining and the best part was that there were as many people coming home from Hallowe’en parties as there were marathoners headed to the start.
Sub-Elite E and me. See that behind us? That would be DARKNESS.
Statue of Liberty in the dark
Verrazano Narrows bridge, the first part of the race
Getting off the bus to Fort Wadsworth. I had to pee and had my pick of locations…
A fraction of the UPS (“oopays” in spanish, apparently) which carried our gear to the finish
Again, lots more line-ups but everything went amazingly smoothly. Erin and I settled in for a long wait when we got to Fort Wadsworth. Drank some water, read the paper, people watched. We had over 2 hours to kill till start time. The funniest part was when 2 Italian ladies sat next to us, opened up their coffees and lit their cigarettes. Runners!
Elite women headed to the start
Everybody else headed to the startErin and I parted ways about 40 minutes before the start – she was classified as “sub-elite” and I was a lowly “local competitor” (a source of endless comedy for us), so we were in different corrals. I dumped my bag at the UPS truck that would deliver it to the finish line and amazingly, met up with Mel Day – another Whistler runner. I couldn’t quite believe that amongst 47, 000 runners we found each other! More standing around until finally the national anthem played and the canon sounded and we were off!
Me and Mel
Minutes before the start
Course map (click to enlarge)
The first thing we do is run up and over the Verrazano Narrows bridge. The first mile is uphill, the 2nd downhill. During the downhill people went sprinting by me. Needless to say, I caught them about 3 miles later as they started cramping! As soon as we turned into Brooklyn we ran down the main boulevard and the crowds started, it was truly amazing. Loud, boisterous, encouraging… People in their jammies, kids, babies, people “cheersing” us with Champagne, music.
Brooklyn!
1st ave. That’s Jay over there on the left in black.
The race itself is a bit of a blur. I felt really great until about mile 20, when the wheels promptly and rather painfully came off the bus. I was very conservative with my pace (I am afflicted with a condition commonly referred to as “pregnancy” and as such had to keep my heart rate, body temp and such things in check). It also probably didn’t really help that I think I had done a grand total of 4 long runs leading up to this race. I grabbed a 4:10 pace bad and was well on track until Mile 20 when I started having to walk a bit more than I would have chosen. It didn’t matter though – I knew I wasn’t in this race to set any records, I was there to enjoy it.
Amazingly, I was able to see Jay and Bobby on the course twice. I had arranged to see them around mile 17 so that Jay could give me some real food and again 2 miles before the finish. When you come off the last bridge down into Manhattan and run onto 1st ave the crowds seemed to swell, to the point that spectators were anywhere from 2 to 6 deep behind the barricades. I was able to spot Bobby and Jay right away and grabbed my food. Smiled, kept going. When I saw them again at mile 22 I was walking but still smiling! Everything hurt at that point and I was looking for a piggy back to the finish! I saw the best sign at that point: “stopping is not a fucking option” – ain’t that the truth!
In the last mile, there are signs that countdown the yards… 800, 400, 300, 200, 100… literally the longest mile of my LIFE. The crowds were truly deafening and it was amazing to run by them. In true “me” fashion, I had to jump across the finish line, haha!
Finally!
This is what finishing the NYC marathon sounds like!
This was the first time I finished a race like this that I felt truly great once it was over – no stomach issues, legs and feet were tired and sore but I was able to walk around, head to the subway, eat, etc… a novelty for me, really. Back at the hotel I had my ice batch, some chips and watched Oceans 11 in bed!! Same thing as my last marathon! I think this is a fantastic tradition to try to maintain.
I was actually looking forward to this.
I can’t say enough about how well run this race is run. Even though there were always crowds around, I never felt crowded, everything went so smoothly. Kuddos to New York Road Runners.
Monday was spent forcing Jay and Erin to get up early so we could go buy some finisher souvenirs , then I met up with Karl for lunch and spent the rest of the day walking and, as promised, shoe shopping!
And how did Erin do in her first marathon? Oh you know, a 3:30. Amazing!
Time to get on the plane home, more pics and details to come as I can think of them!
Avignon to Paris and THE END
We decided to pull the pin on the Ventoux and take everyone to Avignon instead.The clients enjoyed a free day while Ryan and I raced through town shopping for the train ride, returning rental vehicles and generally feeling like we were starring in our own version of the Amazing Race.
True Story: before the bus left, I announced to everyone that a good spot to find a screen to watch the Tour on could be found in Place Pie/Les Halles, and open air plaza surrounded by bars, cafes and restaurants.A client complained to me that I had “promised open air but this place was full of people and establishments and thus I misled her”.I didn’t even have a comeback for that one.
Eventually we got everyone to the TGV and we were off to Paris.Ryan and I wisely loaded up on beer and wine and that made everything a little easier for us.We spent the ride playing bartender/waiter and it went by very quickly.
Once in Paris we split the group between our 2 hotels which overlooked the course, Le Regina and Le Crillon (where Lance and the OLN crew stay, including Phil and Paul).Another few hours of ironing wrinkles out of our plans, sorting out guests and generally putting out fires meant that it was a while longer before we could sneak off to our fantastic suite and pass out.
Night view from our room
On our first morning in Paris, we planned an early morning cruiser bike ride through the streets of Paris, including up and down the Champs Elysee. This was definitely a highlight for me, it was super fun and a great way to see the city before the mayhem really got underway.
Self portrait, Champs Elysee, 8am.
Les Champs
We rode till about 11, and then Ryan and I snuck off to the “Breakfast in America” for a greasy pile of food.We made it back to our hotel, sorted everyone out with balconies and viewing points and watched the final stage of the Tour de France 2009 roll by our window.It was incredible!
Caravan
Peloton
We capped off the day with a dinner at the restaurant on the first floor of the Eiffel Tower.What should have been a great send-off was marred by the fact that the restaurant RAN OUT OF FOOD but really?At that point, it just seemed fitting…
I spent my final day in Europe wandering the streets of Paris, visiting the Louvre and the Opera House, walking the Champs Elysée and sneaking down as many side streets as I could find to take it all in.The best part?I was all by myself.
All in all, it was a pretty surreal week.At times it felt like it would never end, at other times it felt like it flew by.I missed my boys terribly.I didn’t get to do as much riding as I had hoped but the rides I did do were fantastic.The stress of managing 110 people in VERY logistically-challenging conditions was hard on us.The fact that we were doing it on no sleep and less food made it all the more difficult.I lost 7 pounds (IN FRANCE.How is that possible?!)
I kept my cool throughout (despite 1 or 2 meltdowns…)I was even polite to everyone until the bitter end (except maybe when someone snatched a dinner ticket out of my hand and the Eiffel Tower without even looking at me and I was compelled to snap “you’re welcome!” and then mutter obscenities under my breath at him.)
Tour guiding may not be for me, but I am keen to go back and tackle all the routes again in better conditions.Anyone want to come?I can drive you around and almost guarantee I won’t get lost!
Le Mont Ventoux
The morning we were to go up to the Ventoux began perfectly for me despite on getting a few hours of sleep: all alone in the Château courtyard with a croissant and some good coffee.Let’s just say that the next 4 hours after that were particularly trying and leave it at that.
Once Ryan finally met me with the bikes in the parking lot of La Route du Ventoux (a bike shop with the loveliest staff who took wonderful care of me), we opened the back of the moving van… a one ton truck that held no less than 110 bikes.People were stopping to take pictures!It took about 2 hours to unload every bike.Thankfully that would be the last time we’d have to do it.Even the owner of the bike shop chuckled when he saw all his rental bikes crammed in.
I ended up spending 12 hours in the parking lot wrenching bikes, filling water bottles, getting filthy and generally making sure clients made it safely up and down the mountain.I am sad that I didn’t get to ride it myself but really, that just means I’ll have to go back another time.
The town itself, Bedoin, felt like a huge street party.Camper vans and trailers had been arriving for over 10 days to secure a spot on the mountain to watch the tour come through.There were hundreds of cyclists making their way up the mountain and through town.We realized that our plan to take clients up the mountain the following day to watch the stage would have been an exercise in futility, especially since we were meant to catch the TGV back to Paris from Avignon that night.It took people all night to get down!
Thankfully, all of our riders who chose to go up enjoyed their experience of riding through hundreds of thousands of people and everyone made it down safely, in time to enjoy cocktails and a dinner at the Château.
The funniest part of the day for me was when the taxis arrived to take some clients back, I asked if I could follow since I didn’t have my GPS.The driver said no problem, he’d go slowly and wait for me.The fact that he was driving a 600 series Mercedes might have tipped me off that our ideas of slowly would differ.I ended up driving a moving van at 120 kph through the back roads of Provence.Good times!(Sorry, mum!)
I got home in time to clean up, eat dinner and *surprise*!More planning.All I wanted to do was collapse on my lovely ironed sheets in my lovely ironed PJs, but it was not to be.Clients wanted to leave earlier/later/go elsewhere/needed translation/hand holding/someone to yell at, etc.So of course, I obliged, hahaha.Eventually I did make it to my ironed sheets and enjoyed every last minute…
Annecy to Provence
After another late night of planning, organizing and generally trying to dig this tour out of the hole we seem to have collapsed in, we had an early morning departure planned.The goal was to load up the buses and vans with everyone’s luggage and cycle the group from Megeve to Annecy via Albertville.It was only about a 45K ride and the first 2/3 of it were downhill on a narrow, twisty mountain road.The dark tunnels made it interesting, that’s for sure!The road is so narrow that when a bigger vehicle meets another, they stop to inch by each other.Once we go to the flats near Annecy we merged onto the bike lane and I had to tuck in behind a client because 1) there was a ridiculous headwind and 2) I was completely shattered.
The crowds in Annecy were amazing.The road circling the lake was closed for the Time Trial and the halfway mark clock was a few hundred meters up the road from our viewing point, Chappet House, a quaint hotel on the lake.
TT Half way point
The crowd
The clients all eventually arrived at the house and although it took several hours, lots of scrambling, some money spent and some calming down of people, everyone eventually was fed and nicely liquored up and they enjoyed watching the racers come by at blistering paces.It was incredible to see just how teeny tiny the riders had gotten after 2 weeks of racing.
Skinny fast dudes
When Armstrong went through the Americans in the crowd went bananas (embarrassingly so…) but I will admit that it was impressive to see the caravan.I got to see George Hincapie and a few of the Italians I really like so it was worth it.
http://www.youtube.com/get_player
Armstrong coming by, can you tell?
A few more hours of relaxing for the guests meant it was time for us to scramble to get clients back to the buses parked 2K away (in, of course, a last minute torrential downpour).We also had to pack 110 bikes, luggage, clean the hotel and then drive 4 hours down to Provence.All in a day’s work, HAHAHA.
I drove our trusty 9 passenger with Crystèle, another coordinator.She was lovely but, holy hell, the woman is a TERRIBLE driver.Unfortunately for me, she had to drive while I scrambled to coordinate buses, driver schedules, 5 separate hotel drop offs/pick ups for the next morning.Long live blackberries, that’s all I’ll say.I have never before experienced the feeling of completely running out of hours in a day to get things done and I hope to never again!
We finally arrived in Provence at the MOST spectacular Château I have ever had the privilege to stay in, Château de Rochegude.Thankfully we managed to arrive about 30 minutes before the bus so I had a few moments to take it all in, chat with the concierge and his dog and prepare.Of course, as was de rigueur for this trip, the guests arrived at 1:30AM and everything went completely sideways for about an hour until they were all in bed…I finally fell into bed at about 3, knowing that Ryan was somewhere on the road with all the bikes and having promised 3 riders that I would take them to the Mt. Ventoux the next morning to meet the bikes and send them on their way before awaiting the arrival of all the other riders a few hours later.I wanted everyone to enjoy the Château for a few hours in the morning!
http://www.chateauderochegude.com/
Parking lots, climbs and delirium
When Ryan finally arrived to pick me up with the 30 bikes, it was about 10:30pm. I had been sitting in the parking lot waiting for him for over 3 hours at this point. I was hungry, chilly, getting swarmed by mosquitoes and sitting close enough to a French karaoke bar that I could hear every terrible word being warbled. Ryan’s phone was off so I had no way of knowing where he was… By the time he rolled up I was ready to skin him alive and then run him over with the moving van he was driving. I yanked the door open and Ryan said “All right Cogs, lemme have it”. And of course, we both dissolved into hysterical giggles.
Some of the 21 switchbacks
After loading all the bikes into the moving van and searching for food (nothing says recovery like a Nutella crepe and a beer at 11:45pm, right?) we started the long drive home. A wonky GPS and construction in Grenoble got us home at about 4am. I washed my face and collapsed into bed – how gross is that?
The next morning I had planned on sleeping a bit, but decided to get up at about 6:30 to check on Ryan and make sure the group was ready for the day: the plan had been to bus the group to the base of the Col de la Colombiere. They would then ride up to the restaurant at the summit and watch the Tour come through. My plan was to send them off and go back to bed.
Of course, Ryan had other plans for me… Because many in the group had been unable to ride l’Alpe d’Huez, the group split. Most would go up the Colombiere, some would take the day off, the rest would come with me to l’Alpe d’Huez. Which of course meant that I got to drive a 9 passenger vehicle on 2 hours sleep through mountain passes! Yay!
I slurped down a coffee, threw some gear in a bag, loaded up my passengers and off we went. The nerves were getting to me – I was determined not to get lost or sheer off the mirrors of the van through the passes. I succeeded!
Once in Bourg-d’Oisan, we got everyone organized and off they went up the mountain. I waited for one last client to arrive from another hotel and got my co-guide organized with the “sag wagon”. I finally decided that rather than sit in the parking lot all day (did I mention that at this point there were thundershowers?) I might as well suit up and ride the damn thing. So I did.
Some of the 21 switchbacks
Alpe d’Huez was a really spectacular ride. The grade around the first turn is at about 12% and there are signs at every turn counting down the turns from 21. The view of the valley was incredible and the reward at the top was crossing the official “Tour de France” finish line. Everyone was high-fiving and celebrating so it was a really nice end to the day. Coming down was a little nerve wracking (to say I was shaky at this point is like saying sometimes it rains on the west coast). The difference in drivers is remarkable though: someone honked at me and I got all upset – but he was honking to cheer me on!
After feeding my gang at a local pizzaria, we loaded up our van and headed back to Megeve. We made it back in time for the group to have dinner and in time for me to get bombarded with questions about the following day, for me to make maps, lists and plans and for me to miss dinner… again!
Yeah, I’m too cheap to pay for the orginal.
Hot tip: if you want to go to France and make friends, wear a Canadian jersey. People will love you and give you food.
Climbs and more climbs
It’s hard to believe that less than a week ago we were in the Savoie, riding up the (in)famous Col de la Croix de Fer and l’Alpe d’Huez. I’ve decided to spare the details of all the bad stuff that happened because in retrospect it doesn’t seem like such a big deal (or maybe my sleep-deprived brain just doesn’t want to think about it anymore).
I can say that riding on that first day was QUITE an experience… Our bus dropped all the riders just outside of St-Jean-de-Maurienne ON the climb (no warm up here!) It was a ridiculous way to start but everyone was antsy to get going, so they did… right passed the turn off for the Col de La Croiz de Fer. I tried to catch the lead group which had gone up about 30 minutes before me (I didn’t know they missed the turn and in fact at that point, *I* didn’t know I had missed the turn). After about 2 hours of climbing the lead group turned and caught me as they were descending: a local had told them that they were not headed to the Croix de Fer, that in fact we were riding the Col de la Toussuire. Evidently there is a way to link the Toussuire to the Croix de Fer but the road had recently crumbled… So back down to our starting point we went. At least the descent was fun!
It was now about 1pm and it was HOT. People were getting hungry and they were quite pissed off at having gone 2 hours in the wrong direction – uphill! It was definitely our “bad call” to not have tested the ability of the riders before hand because this became an EPIC day.
The sign in St-Jean-de-Maurienne said that the next town was a mere 5K away, in the direction of the Croix de Fer. A very long story short: the sag wagon had disappeared with all our water/food (he was waiting at the top… kind of defeats the purpose), riders were walking, the bus was trying to get to us… Turns out the town ended up being 15k up the road. And I mean
UP.
self portrait up the road…
Seems pretty obvious.
Personally, I was having a lovely ride (despite being yelled at, cursed, etc). I like to climb! Unfortunately, the stress of trying to find people, vehicles, etc fried my brain and I forgot to eat. By the time I got to the last town before the Croix de Fer I was desperate for something — anything. I met up with a really nice group and we stopped at a little café for some nice cold Cokes. When I asked the owner how far to the top he said “15K”. I almost punched him. Turns out he was joking!
We were 5K to the top and they were pretty damn spectacular! I was SO happy to get to the top and grab… a coke. It was all that was left! Damn! After a quick photo op we hopped back on for the 25K descent into Bourg-d’Oisan which is the base of Alpe d’Huez.
Done! I was STOKED!
When we finally got to Bourg-d’Oisan, we were still hoping to be able to ride l’Alpe d’Huez, or at the very least catch a bus to the top. However, the very strict transportation laws prevented our driver from being able to go anywhere but back to Mégeve (this particular AMAZINGLY talented drive drove a 63-person bus up and over the Col de La Croix de Fer. It’s kind of like driving a bus , well, I have no comparison. Suffice to say he said he’ll never do it again). This transportation restriction led to me sitting in a parking lot (waiting for Ryan), with 30 bikes, for 2.5 hours in the dark. Oh yeah, in my chamois. Gross.
I still can’t believe the bus went up this – the image doesn’t do it justice.
I still can’t believe the bus went up this – the image doesn’t do it justice.At the end of the day, my heart rate monitor/computer showed that I had ridden for a total of about 6.5 hours, fueled by 4 water bottles, 2 cokes and 1/2 a powerbar. Not exactly ideal. Didn’t bonk though, which I am still trying to understand.
Day 2 led us back to l’Alpe d’Huez on 2 hours of sleep, but that’s a whole other story! Time for me to get some much needed sleep!
The SMO's stories 