Cycling In The Alps

Alpe d'huez

22nd/September/2012

After a poor night's sleep, I was woken by Barry's phone which for some reason he planted on my pillow and set the alarm. The lanky git found it funny as I was completely confused trying to turn the alarm off, not knowing where it was coming from. I dragged myself up, had a shower got dressed and staggered across the room and then the view hit me like a sledge hammer. I wandered out of the patio doors from our room with Barry and met Derek and Colin on a communal veranda. In one word 'Outstanding!" Chalet Michelle is situated on the side of steep valley in the small village know as Venosc. There were waterfalls, mountains, villages on the valley floor and a giant glacier high up in a mountain range. We stood in awe for several minutes as we felt like we had struck gold. The only thing that moved us from the veranda was Barry's stomach, it needed feeding. So off we went up a spiral staircase and into the welcoming arms of Michelle, one of the two owners. We had our fill, fixed up our bikes, loaded them up in the cars and headed out to do Alpe d'huez. We parked at a local supermarket in Bourg D'Oisans, off loaded our bikes and then we looked up.

Alpe D'Huez loomed in front of us; it climbed into the sky and disappeared into the clouds out of view. The weather wasn't looking to good so we wrapped up. This turned out to be a big mistake.

"It's a beast!" blurted out Derek,

"You're not joking," said Colin,

"I need a poo!" Barry announced (he goes about five times a day).

After a swift trip to the toilet, we mounted our rides and rolled out of the car park. Anticipation and adrenaline was flowing through our veins as we approached the foot of the famous mountain climb. We started steady, observing all the famous riders names on every hairpin bend. Barry and Derek stopped to admire each other's clothing as they removed layers. Colin and I plodded on, hoping to open a gap against the better hill climbers. After a few more hairpins Colin decided to take some photos and this gave me a chance to get ahead. I needed all the help I could get; I was full of a cold and struggling. I dropped into a rhythm and crawled up the mountain at what I thought, was a reasonable speed. It wasn't, Colin was steaming up behind me and easily caught me and passed. What really surprised me was around three quarters of the way up, Derek the mountain rocket stormed past,

"Morning Wolfy," is what I think he said.

And not far behind him was Barry, pushing his Cube hard. It wasn't long until I found myself, sweating, cursing and alone. I was all out, finished and struggling with the altitude. This mountain threatened to relieve me of my passion for cycling, but I pushed on. Alpe d'huez is completely unforgiving; it's up, up, up all the way. And when you hit a wall like I did, it laughs in your face, knowing the climb will just continue until you crawl across the finish line.

I lurched on, struggling to breathe and rounded the last bend which led up to the resort at the top. Derek was ready with his camera, standing with Barry and Colin; I crossed the line and collapsed in heap on somebody's door step. The weather, in the end was kind, once I realised I was still alive I began to appreciate the fantastic views and that I had actually managed to ride all the way up. We had lunch at a cycling friendly cafe, mounted our bikes and Derek turned and headed further up the mountain.

"Up???" I questioned, "Where to exactly?"

Derek explained that we had not technically finished and so we headed up, through the resort and out towards the ski runs. The thin air was killing me; I instantly struggled to breathe, yet again. It was about another mile of tortuous climbing until the yuppie was satisfied that we had reached our goal. We turned our bikes around and now it was my turn to disappear.

The descent is extreme. Fast, twisting and demanding, you have to be on full alert as the hairpin bends approach at light speed and the tarmac angles around tight corners that getting it wrong is really not an option. My brakes were burning as I fought for control at each turn, Derek was flying as well, he was a mere hairpin length behind me, but I managed to recover some pride and hit the bottom first, followed by Derek, Colin and Barry.

Back at the cars, we packed up and headed back to our Chalet and this is when things went from the absolute fantastic to really bad. Poor old Derek, the financial whiz kid had had a tough year and today it finally caught up with him. He had developed the dreaded flu, yuppie flu. He was burnt out and toast. We were in a bar in the hillside village and he declared he wasn't too good, thus heading back to the chalet and bed.

And that was the last we saw of him for the next two days!!