Cycling: Mont Ventoux3 – It’s the slope that’ll kill you
The big day finally arrived and Yahoo Sport’s intrepid reporter set off for southern France and a date with destiny.
Day One
Fresh from a hair-raising cab journey to Gatwick Airport. I met up with seven of the brave/stupid riders who would be joining me scaling Mont Ventoux, the giant of Provence. Three brave souls had the bright idea of doing it on a Brompton folding bike. Probably better sponsor them here and not me. Ludacris people.
Having arrived at our Avignon base and caught up with the other 13 riders, around 15 of us decided that ,a nice 45 minute ride around the town to loosen the legs was a good idea. After about five minutes I started to realise that while it was a good idea in theory, in practice we appeared to be utterly doomed. First, a rubbing brake block caused an exploding tyre for someone at the back of the group. Ride over for him, and there was more to come.
Poodling down a quiet country rode, three riders at the head of the group were met with a local driver turning left without looking. Cue a massive collition, cuts, bruises, and very very broken bikes. What followed was about 45 minutes of trying to work out insurance protocol in French and making sure everyone was in one piece. Although one unfortunate had to abandon the following days big ride, they were very lucky to be able to walk away from the crash. Quite the drama for a first night.
Day Two
We set out early and were ready to roll at the base of the first climb in Bedoin at 7am. Then the drizzle started. But that was okay, I planned for drizzle. Knee and arm warmers, gilet, no problem. The general consensus is that doing Bedoin first, then Malaucene, and finally Sault which is allegedly the easiest, is the way to go.
So off I went at about 50% effort. I figured that it was going to be a 9 hour day in the saddle with 6 hours of climbing so probably best leave something in the locker for later. At this point a couple of us seemed to be going about the same pace and company really helps on these long lonely climbs we stuck together. Plus his name was also James and I’m terrible with names.
We tapped away for just under two hours, nothing awful but a few taxing 10 and 12 percent stretches but we kept ticking off the road markers and with 6km to go at Chalet Reynard we emerged from the forest, into the iconic open moonscape at the top of the mountain. It’s this section that has been made famous by Armstrong and Froome in the Tour de France. It’s also a section, which saw the untimely demise of British rider Tom Simpson in 1967. Simpson rode to his death in the Tour so doped that he did not know he had reached the limit of his endurance. He died in the saddle, slowly asphyxiated by intense effort in a heatwave after taking methylamphetamine drugs and alcoholic stimulants.
On the spot where Simpson passed away is a memorial. It’s a spot that it’s traditional, especially for British riders, to salute and say hello to Tommy, and leave a bottle or cap on the decent from the final climb.
We had caught up with a third rider, from the group, and the three of us paid our respects with a wave and would leave a donation of the way down. From then on it was a slow, pretty tough grind to the top. It keeps switching back on itself and I’m sure the road markets are less than accurate for the last 3kms.
But arrive we did and it was some feeling. A toilet stop and a brief refuel and we were on the road back down to Malaucene. The decent was fantastic and I was back (via a wrong turn) for coffee and cake ready for the second climb.
A couple of guys who have done the ride before assured me the first climb is the worst so I set off in good shape and feeling confident of the next 21km of climbing. How wrong they were. The slope started similarly to the Bidoin climb, eight or nine percent, which was fine. Then, it ramped up, 12 percent for a kilometre, then another, and another. It went on for seven kilometres of grinding out a rhythm and hoping it would flatten out eventually. Then it started raining. Not your normal English rain, but some kind of hideous, torrential downpour, which didn’t let up. We reached the top of the mountain, drenched to the bone with the temperature now sitting at three degrees. Thankfully the support vehicle was at the summit and I put on every item of cycling clothing I had with me and prepared for the decent.
Getting this out there early, the decent was the worst experience I have had on a bike. Ever. And I've ridden Paris-Roubaix. It took about five minutes for the fresh layers to be soaked through and then I was riding at 60 kmph into a freezing wind. Teeth chattering, shivering and my numb fingers struggling to operate the less than functional brakes.
Finally reaching the bottom of the mountain and the small village of Sault, I got into the nearest café and drunk a lot of coffee and consumed a bowl of pasta in three minutes, shovelling it in during the moments when my teeth took a break from chattering. Having warmed up if not dried out, most of the riders in our group had arrived and the discussion began as to whether it was safe to attempt the third ascent.
The top of the mountain had dropped below zero and ice was forming and snow falling. At the bottom it was still bucketing down, but we was keen to carry on as far as was safe. After a while and with a few people withdrawing, we set off again into the rain. One thing that was true was that the ascent from Sault was the easiest.
Without the freezing rain, it would be a fantastic ride. It’s a steady six percent in beautiful surroundings and we got to the junction at Chalet Reynard in decent form. At that point the kind people from Parkinson’s UK came out and a informed us that the last six kilometres of the mountain were too dangerous to ride and we had to stop. It was a bit gutting but if it’s not safe, then there is little that can be done.
Freezing cold and a touch frustrated we made our way back down the mountain and back to a warm shower. It was an amazing day, but best thing was the amount of money raised for the amazing people at Parkinson’s UK. I wrote previously about the tireless work they do so please donate if you can.
In less important good news, due to the inclement conditions we were given stamps and qualified for the Club des Cinglés du Mont-Ventoux
We never to got drop off a cap for Tom, but I think I’ll be back to finish it off in the future
It was an amazing experience and one I would recommend to anyone. Jusy try and avoid the rain and train, train train!
