Walkin' On The Moon

Hello from Bedoin, France!  We're currently bunking at the La Garenne campsite.  A nice enough place that's right next to the town and supermarket, has a nice swimming pool and warm showers.

View from our tent:

Laundry line:

Bikes DO grow on trees...

We arrived in Bedoin Friday from Avignon (where we spent two nights doing absolutely nothing but resting), and today we rode up Mont Ventoux, which looks like the surface of the moon when you get to the top because of the lack of vegetation and the expansive white rocks.

I hadn't ridden since Wednesday when I had a miserable time trying to climb the Col de La Croix de Fer near Bourg d'Oisans.  Needless to say, I was a little nervous that my muscles or lungs wouldn't be up to it and I would feel super stiff.

We were supposed to embark on the 21km climb yesterday, but I wasn't quite feeling it as I looked up and saw a cloudy sky with no sun in sight.  So we waited.

And I'm so glad we did!  We drove up to the top in the car yesterday anyway and I was freezing by the time we got there.  I watched the car's thermometer drop 15 degrees Fahrenheit from 70 degrees to 55 degrees as the altitude rose.

The weather this morning could not have been more perfect for cycling.  Blue skies, sunshine and crisp air.  Ahh.

I set off about an hour before Ged this morning in an attempt to time our arrival to the summit just right.

THE RIDE

The first half of the climb was just what I was expecting--it sucked.  The gradient pretty much stayed around 10% and the road didn't offer many breaks from that steepness.  But even though I knew what was coming and what to expect, I don't think there's any real way to genuinely enjoy a hard climb.

A hard climb is just a hard climb.

All you can do is try to put yourself in the best mentality possible at the start because your spirits are likely to dampen as the tough parts come.  I think it's better to start happy and end exhausted than to start miserable and end exhausted.

I noticed I wasn't the only one riding in the lowest gear...EVERYONE was.

After the first 10km or 11km, things started to look better.  I could feel the gradient easing up in certain spots and I felt like there was hope in sight.  I started counting down the kilometers from that point onward.  Always seems to help me mentally.  I also sang some songs, whatever came to mind, really.

Then with 5km to go, I started to get into a nice rhythm.  And I started passing more and more people.

I could see the antenna of the oservatory at the top and I felt good.

Got in a bit of a slump 2km from the finish but my energy sprang back during the last km.  A few guys who had passed me early on flashed a smile or mumbled "bravo" as I rose out of the saddle for the last turn leading up to the stores and pastry stands at the top.  

I climbed 21km in 2h40m.  Ged's time was 1h46m. 

Seems we both had a good ride.

A DIFFERENT KIND OF MOUNTAIN

I think every mountain has personality and you find out a little bit about that personality when you climb it.

Big climbs are meant to be painful.  They're a test of one's fitness, stamina and dedication.  

Given those postulates, I think each mountain decides how much it wants to make you suffer in order to reap the reward of breathtaking views and a feeling of accomplishment.

Mont Ventoux is on the meaner end of mountain climbs, I would say.  This mountain imposes pain and strife all the way up, allowing no room for flat bits to catch your breath.  

The feelings of enjoyment and pleasure come ONLY once you've reached the top.  The work you're supposed to do to reach your reward is NOT to be enjoyed because that's exactly what it is:  WORK that the mountain has placed upon your shoulders as a test of whether or not you're worthy enough or not of receiving the grand prize at the end.

This may all sound abstract and silly, but I want to put this thought out there anyway.

The descent was really lovely.  Despite feeling really chilly while waiting for Ged at the top, the temperature slowly crept up as we retreated to the valley.  We passed sprawling vineyards and cruised on rolling roads that were rich with the pungent fragrance of baking pine needles--one of the best smells I think nature makes.

We're off to the Pont du Gard tomorrow then the Pyrenees.

Safe Travels,

~Amanda

Col de FAIL

Yesterday, I was supposed to ride 80km (round trip) with Ged to Le Col de La Croix de Fer (“The Iron Cross”) near Bourg.  I made it to about 20km before turning around. 

Before you begin thinking What a weakling! or She’s so lame, let me explain why I didn’t finish the ride.

Gentlemen, you might not want to read further because this post contains material about lady parts.

That said, yes, my crotch was the reason I had to turn around.  The first 10km of the ride was flat and enjoyable, completely misleading of what the rest of the ride was going to be like.  After climbing Alpe d’Huez twice in the last few days, I really wanted a rest from hard climbs.  Well, this ride was anything but a rest from steep gradients.

As the flat part began to end, I turned a corner and WHAM!, the road kicked up and the climb began. 

In all truthfulness, my legs were feeling strong, a sensation that I don’t normally feel.  And I was moving at a good pace.  But as I began to dig deeper and lean forward, all that pressure ended up on my hooha, and after about 10km more, I told Ged I had to stop.  The pain was just too much.

It felt like I could feel the nerve endings dying as I climbed.  Not a good feeling.  I know that probably sounds really dramatic, but guys, I was in some serious discomfort, the kind where your body is deliberately telling you to stop or else you might cause permanent damage.

So Ged kept on while I headed back to the campsite.   I honestly think I just need a couple days of rest before going on another ride like that again.  We're in Avignon for a couple of days, so it's a perfect time to take a break from the saddle.

Here are some pictures Ged took when he reached the summit.  He said the gradient rose to 11 percent and that the climb was a bitch (Almost 30km in total).  

I don’t like giving up, but I don’t look at this ride as raising the white flag.  I see of it more as me listening to my body and respecting the messages it’s sending. 

Where is the line drawn between listening to your body’s discomfort and pushing yourself further despite the pain?

Can We Stay Here Forever?

Our original travel plans have changed.  

Instead of staying three nights in Bourg d'Oisans, we’re staying five.  Why?  Because this place is awesome.  I couldn’t ask for more from a cycling mecca if I wanted to.

The tourism office, which is full of friendly people, gives out free nifty booklets with about 35 maps of different cycling routes in the area and has free WIFI.

The atmosphere of this place is great:  There’s always something going on (fireworks last night), people smile at you or cheer you on as you cycle by and the cycling is A-MA-ZING.

And our campsite, Le Colporteur, is fantastic.  Clean showers and toilets, close to a big supermarket, ping-pong tournaments and socials, friendly Dutch neighbors and cyclists galore.  What more could you ask for?

Today's Ride

We climbed Alpe d’Huez again today.

Ged wanted to beat his Saturday time of 1hr 7 min.  I set off 40 minutes before him so that we could finish around the same time.  

I felt better today than I did on Saturday.  My muscles weren’t as tight on the ride up and they didn’t lock up at all at the finish like they did before.  It was definitely hotter today, though.  I had a good sweat going on by the second turn.

Unfortunately, Ged didn’t accomplish his goal, which is OK.  I think it’s a big feat to ride up Alpe d’Huez twice in three days.  He got the same time of 1hr 7min.

He said he “didn’t have the legs today."  His lungs, legs and back were aching.  While he did feel good during the first bit of the climb, he lost the power by the second part. 

Something interesting he said was that he thinks of himself as a diesel engine, able to reach a certain point of acceleration and not surpassing that level but able to keep going for a long period of time.

Fuel For The Body

A ride like this can really take a lot out of you, and I think that’s what I’m beginning to realize. 

Our diet has changed significantly.  We eat loads more than we usually would, which is to be expected.  I find it so fascinating how much more our bodies demand.  I can eat half a loaf of bread with jam for breakfast, a baguette with peanut butter for lunch and a plate and a half of pasta for dinner.  Holy carbohydrates!  

Granted I feel very full after these meals, but my body is working damn hard and burning lots of energy to get me to the top of Alpe d’Huez and the surrounding mountains.

Not sure what tomorrow's ride will bring but I'm looking forward to lying around at the municipal pool in the afternoon...

~Amanda

We're Not in Kansas Anymore

Today was a ride like no other.  I climbed my little heart out.

Twenty-one hairpin turns later, I was on top of Alpe d'Huez.

Here's what the profile looks like:

The ride through pictures:

The climb was labeled with signs indicating how many hairpins were left, sort of like a countdown.  I really  appreciated that because it helped me mentally push to the top without stopping.  I always knew where I was and how much I had left.

By the time I reached the top, my groin muscles and crotch were beyond sore.  I had to stretch for several minutes before getting back on the bike.

Standing on the podium, which you can't really see...I had some trouble stepping up there because my groin hurt so badly.

The way down was so cool because we got to see how twisty and turny the roads were.  They kind of looked like something out of Salvador Dali's sketchbook--like the roads were melting.

Another climb the pros do on Le Tour:  Check.


~Amanda

Why I Love France

Today was a "travel day," which means we pack up all our stuff and move from one campground to another, making several stops in cute towns and at scenic vistas for pictures and pure enjoyment.

I might have mentioned it before, but I’ll say it again:  I love French towns.

Yes, they are all the same in that they follow a similar layout (church, bank, pub, butcher shop, bakery, post office), but this simplicity and organization works!  And I don’t care what anyone says, they’re all unique to me.

We stopped in a town called Nevache on our way from Briancon to Bourg.  Adorable place that makes you feel a bit isolated from the rest of the world—kind of a nice feeling. 

Tons of hikers were waiting for buses to take them away on their adventures, but the rest of the town was essentially empty.

The natural beauty of these places always amazes me.

Flowers in blossom.

Potato field.

Yellow Labradors waiting patiently.

Fresh mountain water for anyone to drink.

Sketchy English guy staring at mountains…

Once we left Nevache, the views seemed to get prettier and prettier.  We passed the Col de Galibier (a scary freaking climb that I’m not doing on this trip), and I just had to take pictures.

Alp d'Huez tomorrow.  Twenty-one hairpin bends!

Au revoir,
Amanda