If
you're sitting in a motorhome on the Col du Lauteret around 5pm on a
chilly Friday evening wondering what to do, why not cycle up the
nearby Col du Galibier? At least that was what we thought. After
returning from our lovely hike that morning and enjoying a tasty meal
we had put our feet up for a while but now felt a little restless.
So, given the time of day we quickly pulled on our lycra, took our
bikes off the back of the van and set off upwards.
Thanks
to the Tour de France the Col du Galibier is one of cycling's most
famous mountain passes, where the legends of cycling have often
raced each other over the 2642m high point in the bright sunshine of
July on their superlight bikes. However, this Friday evening in
August it got Esther and I riding our Halfords hybrid bikes in
weather I would kindly describe as horribly cold. Also, we had
started out at 2000m already, so 'only' had the final 600m or so to
ride which was a lot less than some of our rides the previous week.
However, this was the Galibier, where fans camp for a week to see
their favourites ride past and paint their names on the road to spur
them on.
It
was all pretty inspiring to us and with just 9km of riding between us
and the top we went hard. It was just like the Tour de France (in my
head at least) except the one nagging detail, it was just so cold.
The views were the same as on the TV and we did pass all of the
famous names painted on the tarmac, but you can't see the temperature
on the telly. As we rode around the switchbacks and bends looking out
over the surrounding peaks we pushed hard on the pedals to keep warm
if nothing else and so arrived at the summit in a little over 45
minutes, which was pretty quick going on those bikes (none of the
road cyclists passed us this evening).
Pausing
at the summit for photos and to put on our windproofs, as the sun
left the mountainside completely in shadow we began our descent.
Freezing would be an understatement for the descent. At one point we
had to stop as we couldn't bear the icy wind any more and Esther
could no longer pull on her brakes at all. Having let her warm her
ice cube fingers in my previously warmish armpits (my new definition
of true love) we managed to complete the ride by gritting out teeth
and tensing our muscles against the chill. And so it was with a mix
of both exhilaration and relief that we arrived back at our motorhome
to pick up our relaxing evening where we had left off just a couple
of hours before.
Except
that now we could say we'd cycled up the Col du Galibier.
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