MARATHON RUNNERS get a lot of publicity in the local media, as do those who cycle from John O’Groats to Lands Ends for instance for charity, and deservedly so. But for club cyclists, one of the classic challenges is to follow in the tyre treads of their Tour de France heroes and take on the mountains of the high Alps.
Especially tough is La Marmotte
which takes in three of the most gruelling mountain ascents and is a real challenge, even for the hardiest of cyclists. But when you are about to turn 60 years-old its an unusual target to set yourself and one that beats most ‘extreme sports’ (which generally only require either nerves of steal or suicidal tendencies) for shear physical and mental stamina.
A Thame member of Wycombe Cycle Club, John Francis, recently completed the Marmotte 2009, and won himself a Silver Award, completing the course in 10hrs and 31 minutes. Here is John’s story of that epic, achievement.
A TWENTY minute ride from our gite to the start. As I get nearer Bourg D’Oisans, every possible parking space is occupied by cyclists assembling bikes and preparing themselves for the ride ahead. I tag on to the back of a group making their way in my direction. There is a quiet tension, an expectation in the air.
On arriving in Bourg we are directed down a side road and from there through several filters to sort the riders into three groups according to start numbers. Luckily I have an early start number and soon I am joining a group about 20 yards from the front. There is a buzz of conversation from the crowd, supporters taking pictures from balconies and advantage points. I take my place bizarrely next to a rider I was chatting to on the Dragon Ride a couple of weeks earlier, we exchange a few words. Thirty minutes to the off. Because of the buildings and the mountains around us it?s still quite chilly so I am glad of my race cape.
With fifteen minutes to go the rider in front of me decides to take his front mech. apart, embarrassingly he appears to be English, I look towards a tall, tanned and athletic looking Italian. He raises his eyes to the heavens, I shrug.
With surprisingly little ceremony we shuffle forward and we are away, past the town band whose instruments hang redundant at their sides whilst the PA system blasts out ?Eye of the Tiger?.
One of my concerns was that with 7,000 riders, I would be jostled along at a faster pace than I was comfortable with, but as I tuck in behind a rather well built German the faster riders stream past down the centre of the road.
My big fear is not completing the ride, but with no broom wagon there is no need to run the risk of blowing up by starting too quickly, so I am happy to spin along in the slow lane.
We arrive at Rochataillee and swing right to start the climb to the Col du Glandon at 1924 meters. At 23 Km this is officially the longest climb of the day. We snake our way around the Barrage du Verney and into the woods to start the climb proper. As I warm up I decide to stop to take my race cape off and take advantage of the stop to eat an energy bar. Through the village of le Rivier and we get our first sight of sunshine, as the road levels out here it?s a chance to eat more and grab a drink. A short downhill and then the climb steepens as we make our way up to the Barrage de Grand Maison. There is little conversation now, the riders concentrating on the task in hand, just rasping breath. The gradient levels off as we pass the lake then we are out of the woods and into the open. The road divides then it?s a short climb up to the Col.
After refilling the water bottles it?s the descent to St Etienne de-Guines. I have been warned to take the first few hairpins carefully, which is no problem for me. As I get my confidence I raise the speed but I am amazed by the descending skills of some riders as they fly past me.
We pick our way through several villages and the road flattens out as we arrive in St Etienne. There are a few locals about now to cheer us on our way. It feels good to stretch my back and spin my legs out after the long descent. Eventually we join the main road and there are plenty of strings of riders to join as we ride the long drag through the industrial setting to the base of the climb to Col du Telegraphe.
A water stop at St Michel de-Maurienne and a chance for some food and water before taking on the climb of 12km to the Col at 1566m. It?s a constant gradient and the shade is welcome as the temperature is steadily rising. Occasionally you get a glimpse into the valley below which gives you a bit of a lift when you see the height you have climbed. Without warning the summit appears. Another water stop and then it?s the short descent to Valloire.
As we climb away from Valloire I spot a rider who?s lost his saddle, his bottom dangling dangerously over his unprotected seat post. Although it?s only a few minutes since the last water stop, when the feed station comes into sight I can?t resist the chance of more food before we take on Galibier. After all the sweet stuff I go for the cheese sandwhich, gulp it down and it?s ?Encore? and then off. The road is long, fairly straight with a steepish gradient, until we reach Plan de-Lachat. I know what?s coming so I pause where the road takes a sharp right and kicks up towards the Galibier at 2642m. More food, gels etc and I strain up the 8-9% gradient. Ahead there is a long ribbon of riders. There?s a distant rumble of thunder and a few large raindrops fall, but luckily it comes to nothing, the sky is largely overcast which shelters us from the worst of the heat.
It?s a long hard relentless drag, although I have had a compact fitted since I last did the climb it?s still not enough, and I grind up the mountain at a cadence that seems to be in single figures. I pass a few riders slumped over their bars, some furiously rubbing their cramped up legs. After what seems like an eternity I arrive at the caf