September 2001
September 2001
ALPE D’ HUEZ (continued from last month)
The approach to the climb, unlike a regular mountain pass, is a dead flat road that heads towards the rock face, then turns sharp left and immediately begins to climb, at about 1-in-10 (or so they tell me!). I say goodbye to my big chainring, and say hello to my big sprocket. Blood pumping in my ears, and because I'm getting boxed in, I sprint past Les and settle in to a rhythm. Nine years ago I'd done the same thing and stayed ahead until the first hairpin. This time I find myself struggling before I'm halfway there, and he comes past. I won't see him again until the hotel.
39x26 or not, I'm really fighting the bike for the first few stretches. I've forgotten that it's at its steepest at the bottom, and will ease off later. On the plus side, I'm overtaking almost as many people as are overtaking me. On the downside, most of them are walking! Another policeman holds his hand up at the second bend, and repeats his colleague's request that I dismount and walk. "But my hotel's at the top!" I protest, to no avail. This time I walk about 10 yards before getting back on. No warning shot is fired across my bows, and so I continue.
Each bend is numbered, counting down from 21 as you climb the Alpe. Some people feel this is disheartening, but I find it encouraging to be able to mentally tick them off. What was not encouraging, last time I did it, was to go round bend 14 and think "great, one-third done", only to pass straight under the 10km banner and realise "bad, less than a quarter done". This time I am expecting it, and I stop for a minute. An Alpine stream is cascading off the hillside, and I refill my bottle from it. Who cares if it's not 100% clean? I'm hot, it's cold, and I'll pour as much of it over my head as down my throat. The gradient has eased and I am getting more comfortable. A boy hands me up a bottle of water, which I grab from his hand to a cheer from the crowd (for him or for me, I'm not sure which). I swig from it, pour some over my head, and offer it to the next guy I pass, but he's not interested, so it gets chucked.
The road may be closed to traffic, but there are enough official vehicles going up to make sure you stay to the right. Press cars, publicity cars, even a few team coaches, they all go past at a speed slightly faster than I'd like. One spectator waves as I pass him, which I think is odd until I realise there's a TV motorbike going past me at the same time! Then I start to hear a siren further up. Some five minutes later I come across a traffic jam. An ambulance -which has been holding up vehicles for a good few minutes - is turning round in the road and heads back down the mountain. This doesn't look good, and I learn the following day that somebody died of a heart attack: this is probably him. A terrible tragedy on what should be a day of sporting endeavour.
In the village of Huez is what has become known as Dutch Corner. About 30 or 40 orange-clad supporters, good-naturedly drinking, singing, dancing, and blocking traffic. I have to stop, whether I want to or not, and walk my bike between them. Some 20 yards beyond them are a smaller group of partying Danes, with a life-size cut-out of Bjarne Riis. Not the time to call out "Mr Sixty Percent" I feel. There are more Dutch at the next bend as well, and I am passed by a Rabobank team car who throw a cap out, but I decide not to grab it from under their noses.
It's all starting to go so well, when, just after bend 4, the police are directing us off the course! After Guerini's encounter with a fan two years ago, the last four kilometres are all barriered off, and we are being forced up the other road that coaches take. At this point the enthusiasm wanes a little bit. The sun's gone in, I'm starting to feel cold (after pouring so much water over me!), and I'm getting a twinge behind my knee. It takes about another 15 minutes to reach the top, and I make my way towards the hotel, which is actually on the course. Getting to the route, I realise there's a big gap in the barriers, and no-one preventing me from riding through! Game back on! I ride past the hotel, under the red kite, get on to the fast stretch in town and can reacquaint myself with my big ring. I hurtle round the roundabout with 500 metres to go, and there's another policeman, with his hand up - stop! No "get off and walk" here, this is "turn around and go back.". This time it's definitely back to the hotel. We watch the stage on TV in the local Irish pub, and then, after seeing Armstrong attack Ullrich, run out and stand by the barriers as they go past. Whatever your suspicions about the riders, there's no better way to appreciate the mountains than to ride them yourself.
Ruaraidh Gillies
BNE 13 v MW 19
Beaten again in the Wild Wales, this time by Macclesfield Wheelers. We reconoitred half of the course the previous day. We were fortunate that our Leader led us off course, accidentally, so unwittingly we were spared the most fearsome of the ascents of the of the Trawsfynydd Mountain Road. We did wonder what had happened to the six gates. We found them the next day.
We also found six climbs that beat us, descents that had our rims overheating and bends so acute that riding on the wrong side of the road, with brakes hard on was the only way to negotiate.
But the scenery compensated, particularly on the Mountain Road, and also inland from Harlech and the weather was glorious. It made us wonder why we spend six months abroad. Perhaps it is the weather.
This year's 82 miles event was the toughest ever. Former member Kevin Moreland 'sped' round and was second to finish in seven and three quarter hours. Marina rode round with minimum stops to finish first of the North Enders in eight and three quarter hours. AJ was first in his category -'with saddlebag' and the cream of the BNE, plagued with punctures were well down.
But where were the other seven?
AJ
CLUB WEEKEND
The club weekend will take place on the 27th and 28th October.
If you would like to take part contact Mel Vasey on 0151 608 9397, or 0151 228 6262
£10 deposit required.
CHESTER ROAD CLUB OPEN 50 mile TT
The North End was well represented this year. The event got under way in torrential rain and blustery winds, everyone who started deserved a prize!
Jeff Vernon 1:56:37 (first 50)
Pete Davies 1:57:34 (PB)
Peter Kay 2:02:23
Mike Daly (apologies didn't get his time)
Ian Hawkins DNF (puncture)
John Moore DNF (forgot to eat breakfast)
Jeff Vernon
CONGRATULATIONS
The Walmsleys have a lot to celebrate this month.
Clive won two bronze medals at the National Track Championships, and Claire got engaged!
More details when I have them, hopefully next month.
STILL WANTED
Ian Hawkins is still looking for a winter hack bike 21 inch (max £100)
Phone 691 0939
Andrew Christie is also looking for a winter bike 22/22.5 inch
Phone 342 5833
Previous Newsletters:
2001 January February March April May June July August
2000 January February March April May June July August September October November December
1999 January February March April May June July August September October November December
Email Pete about
anything in here