Mt. Ventoux is a mountain in Provence, France with a road to the peak. The Tour de France used it for years in decades past, and most recently in 2009. It is a mountain climbing stage categorized in difficulty as "beyond categorization" (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hors_Catégorie). When I was looking for something to add to my trip with Susan and Dixie (who only needed me as a rental car driver for one week), this stood out. Susan needed me starting on Saturday, so I scheduled Friday for my attempt on Ventoux.This was to be my annual physical goal -- the event that I have to prepare for far in advance to ensure I don't destroy my body attempting it. Unfortunately, I had too much fun playing squash, and I really don't enjoy long hours of riding alone on the busy roads around home. I figured: Ventoux is only the elevation gain of Enumclaw to Sunrise (5000'), that's less than half of RAMROD's total, pièce de gateau n'est-ce pas?
Only a few days before I was to fly to Provence and attempt the climb, I decide to look for some gps tracked maps of the route by others. That's when I finally realized that a) this ride isn't so bad, it's only 13 miles long! And b) that means it has the toughest altitude climb of RAMROD, but it has only a tenth of the distance. Err... Doesn't that mean the slope is just crazy steep?
I might have been a bit relieved to see that thunderstorms were predicted on that special Friday. I could imagine explaining it: "Oh, my attempt on Ventoux? I was all psyched, but thunderstorms after the 50mph Mistral winds forced me to cancel...". There really were mistral winds on Wednesday. Ask Susan or Dixie who lived through the Mistral of 2011 and considered printing T shirts for it. Nonetheless, I packed my biking gear, in case weather.com was wrong.
We had found a great deal on Icelandic Air for Seattle to Paris. I guess it was because no one wanted to fly anywhere near that volcano that erupted in 2010 (Eyjafjallajokull). I thought, how could a geothermal event like that happen the next year? Well... This time, the other Icelandic volcano, that erupted for the 2 weeks before Susan and Dixie flew out, wasn't as severe. Maybe someone was trying to look out for my knees....
Flying into Paris gave us an excuse to use planes, trains and automobiles during the trip. S & D would take the TGV train to Aix to meet up with their guided tour group. I would take an open jaw on Air France from Paris to Marseille. Then I would drive a rental to the Tour de France stage start town of Bedoin. Due to this itinerary complexity, we had to book all these legs separately. I was very happy to learn that I could checkin my luggage from Seattle, through two long layovers, all the way to Marseille. At least that is what Icelandic air told me. Even the lost baggage rep in Marseille didn't think it was unusual or improper. But alas, my bag with all my biking gear was left in Paris. He says: maybe my luggage could be delivered to my hotel by Friday morning. At least I have now learned two useful things about lost baggage by airlines. First, Air France will reimburse me 100 euros for any necessities I have to buy immediately (not so for some other airlines). Second, there is an Internet based tracking system for lost baggage; kinda like the UPS package tracking system.
I was keeping in touch by email with Susan, and updated her in my Bedoin hotel when I finally arrived late Thursday night. Susan had been trying to convince me to drive an hour through tight & curvy mountain passes to have dinner with her really cool tour group. I had declined because of the extra 2 hrs of driving before my climbing attempt. She could see mt. Ventoux from her hotel room even though she was in a town an hour away, with a small mountain range in between. I wonder if that impressed her a bit.... Now hearing about my situation, her very excellent tour guide/operator invited me to join them for a special winery tour & lunch Provence-style. Not fair, appealing to my stomach, btw. The thunderstorm weather forecasts were not good for Friday afternoon or all day Saturday. So, Friday morning was best for my ride. I didn't want to see if carbon fiber bikes could attract electricity on an exposed mountain top. The baggage tracking website told me on Friday morning that my luggage was supposed to arrive on the 9:30am flight. Hmm, it took me 1.5hrs to drive from the airport via the super speedway. After triple confirming the times couldn't line up, I caved in and agreed to join the tour for lunch, abandoning my dream of summitting this cat 1+ climb.
Well, not completely. I made sure the airline could reach the hotel manager's cell phone, and deliver my luggage to their usually locked doors. I also checked availability with one of the bike rental shops. I got the impression they weren't having as much business as normal with all the rain that morning. I told myself that there was still a chance I could ride on Saturday morning, if the rain stops (I had not packed any rain biking gear), and if my luggage actually arrives.
Then I drove off into the French countryside with a half charged gps to find the winery. It was a wonderful Provence experience. Great wine, food, and several new friends made me decide to join them for a hike, and then the fabulous tour-closing French dinner that I had previously declined. I figured I could finish dinner at 9pm, and then drive back to my hotel by 10 where I hoped my luggage would be (the online luggage tracker did say it was delivered late that afternoon).
Well, as you can guess, it was kinda hard to drive dark curvy narrow mountain passes after an amazing French dinner. It didn't help that my gps battery life was near the end, and therefore I only turned it on just before the next scheduled turn. Did I mention I checked-in the car charging cable in my luggage? [Don't do that.] I got back to my lonely hotel at 11pm.
It helps sometimes that I don't need much sleep. At 7am Saturday morning, I check two forecasts and one of them says the morning is looking partly sunny, cloudy and rainy at various hours of the morning. Thunderstorms forecasted all afternoon. I ignore the other forecast. Two different hotel managers say I have to check out by eleven. Ok, it is still doable. A permanently installed timing service for anyone that wants bragging rights for the mt. Ventoux course told me the best time up was 1hr 15mins. I figured, I should be able to do it in three hours. Bike rental shops were supposed to open at 8am. If I couldn't make it back in time, then the worst was I'd have to drive back to pick up S&D, wet and cold. I gobble down my hotel breakfast of baguette, yogurt, and croissant, and am ready for the ride at 8am.
My first choice of bike rental shops wasn't open yet. I walk to the next one where the owner just drove up. I follow him around as he unlocks the doors and starts placing merchandise outside. I think he finally sees my urgency when I start helping him move the clothing racks outside. ;)
I don't have a bike reservation, so he sizes me up and we find a bike for me in his warehouse. [Eddie Merckx carbon with a triple crank and a big cassette]. He needs a copy of my driver's license, and can't take my credit card instead. Ok... He puts my pedals on, and lets me ride back to the hotel for my license. The rain starts pouring. I wonder if I can still cancel the rental as I fill my water bottles.
After I hand him my license, I ask if the route up the mountain is as obvious as I imagine. He says yes, especially with the 1000 Belgians riding today for their charity event. Oh? Cool!
The rain has stopped temporarily, as I head up the mountain around 8:15am. At least that's what the big start line clock for the Belgians reads when I pass it half a mile up the road. Unlike any other long road ride I have ever done, this climb has absolutely no rolling hills and almost no flat elements. I was in the bike's second easiest gear after 3kms. Uh oh. I was in the easiest gear by the 4th km. There were maybe 5 times on the rest of the climb where I could shift up to an easier gear.
It helped a lot to have so many other riders with the same goal. They foreshadowed our presence to all the car drivers. They gave me some idea of my pace. I passed some of them, some of them passed me. They had a lot of supporters lining the course. It didn't feel like I was in the tour de France (that's a unique scene), but there was a lot of positive energy from them. There were also several photographers shooting every rider, and someone would hand out cards to find your photo on the Internet. Maybe they paid the right guy, because the sun came out and stayed out until 6 km from the top.
It turned out to be a glorious day in Provence! Maybe I was amped up on adrenaline from all the days stressing over this ride. Maybe the rain darkened the colors of the fields, and cleaned the air. Maybe it was that golden morning light. This road winds over vineyards and lavender fields. Ah! If only this could be my training road....
The ride was tough for me. I was taking endurolytes to prevent cramping; more when each leg started to cramp (salt and other electrolytes in pill form; really works for me). I was taking ibuprofen to prevent knee pain; more when each knee started to twitch (thankfully, there was only one painful moment for each knee). I was basically riding for two hours on the easiest gear and chainring at around sixty rpm, trying not to let any 10% incline reduce my rpm while watching my form so that I wouldn't hurt my knees.
When I finally escaped the forest and reached the limestone bald top of the mountain, I only had 6 km left. There was a permanent road marker in the shape of a tombstone telling me that the next 6 km had a 6.5% incline. What a relief! This section is the easiest to recognize on TV during the Tour de France. This is where Lance or Contador would be staring their nearest competitor in the eye to show him who could ride through the most pain. The Belgians had set up another of their transponder timing points here. Lots of their supporters were here. There were lots of messages painted on the road; some for superstar riders, and now, some for today's Belgians.
The mountain top was shrouded in fog. So, I couldn't see the famous tower building to gauge my distance to the top. On the other hand, there wasn't a huge amount of wind either. That's lucky for me on Mt. Windy (venteux = windy in French). As I passed the photographers that would document my climb in unfoggy glory in this limestone section, I had to wonder: if I already have the picture of the day, do I really need to go to the top?
Mais bien sûr! The fog was heavy enough to worry me that some car would come up or down too fast and not see me. But, it seems there weren't tourists to the foggy peak today, only Belgian supporters. They had even started to walk down from the peak to see their athletes. That was kind of encouraging, I mean how far could the peak be, if these folks were willing to walk down? I felt pretty energized the rest of the way. I could hear a PA system blaring down from what I guessed was the finish line at the top. When I felt i was directly underneath the PA, I guessed there must only be one more switchback, and I sprinted up the final "wall" and across the Belgians' finish line with a guy that was pacing me earlier.
I couldn't see much in the dense fog. I was trying to make sure this really was the peak and not an early finish line for the Belgians. But I recognized the tower building, and found the peak monument. Yay, I really had summited Ventoux!
I didn't find any public water source, but I had maybe a cup of water left in my bottles. So, down I went. There was a long trail of riders still climbing up. In that way it felt very much like RAMROD: you get to see your place in the pack. My original goal was to make it down slow and safe. I was on a rental bike that I did not double check. It had a shiver when I got up some 30mph. Or, it could have just been me. The rental bike shop owner told me I should put on all the clothes I had for the descent as it was likely to get cold. I had only put on my half fingered bike gloves, that was all I had packed. My legs were cold from the wind, shivering a bit when I stood on the pedals, but my fingers seemed to modulate the brakes fine. I was also watching the time, as my hotel checkout was in less than 30 mins. There were a lot of support vehicles sharing the road with us. Fortunately, they all seemed to be looking for crazy tucked-in descenders like me. About two thirds of the way down, it started to rain slowly. It was only after reaching the last three miles that it started to downpour. But by then, I was ready to pedal, and that kept me warm. I raced back to the hotel to sneak in my room for a hot shower just before 11am checkout! Ahh! 10 minutes later, life was dry, warm and good -- even though it was raining. Soon enough I set out to meet Susan in Bonnieux. I thought of the remaining riders, as the rain turned into a big thunderstorm.
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| The proper recovery drink in Provence |
More interesting facts about this mountain on http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mont_Ventoux
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