Another morning straight into a climb, this time the Col du Port. I wait for David Maher who is a late starter today. We make our way steadily up the climb, where Valdis is bitten by a dog.
Then the worst part of the journey - 30km along busy national roads, the main route to Andorra. James is suffering with an ab tear, so I mosey along with him for a while.
Elevenses in a bakery, with lunch bought for later.
The Col du Pailheres passes with laughter and banter - Peter’s bosom-filled film, giving riders quick pushes to relieve their legs, or for science. A quick race with Lynda on the run-in to the KOM line, which I lost. The shelter at the top.
Then the most technical and coldest descent of the week, to the warmest but slowest café in France. We eat our food and cake in their heat, but there wasn’t much complaining from the proprietor, who was constantly out the back making tea, coffee, and lukewarm chocolate.. Siobhán broke out a delicious home-made cake, and everyone got the giggles.
Then more descending, which David and Ronan didn’t want to end, so they kept going down, when the rest of us took a right turn. I dove after them, hoping they had noticed the lack of followers and slowed. I caught them within 10km while they had stopped to look for directions, and we turned around and got back on track. The image of Ronan’s windscreen wiper is forever scorched into my mind’s eye.
Valdis and Pat were also AWOL, and during the long trudge home, we worried that they were lost in the French wilderness. Until we hit the final sweeping descent through a gorgeous valley. The two boys were home ahead of us though, so all was well, and that night we celebrated Peter’s stag with champagne and toasts (no toast though).
Then the worst part of the journey - 30km along busy national roads, the main route to Andorra. James is suffering with an ab tear, so I mosey along with him for a while.
Elevenses in a bakery, with lunch bought for later.
The Col du Pailheres passes with laughter and banter - Peter’s bosom-filled film, giving riders quick pushes to relieve their legs, or for science. A quick race with Lynda on the run-in to the KOM line, which I lost. The shelter at the top.
Then the most technical and coldest descent of the week, to the warmest but slowest café in France. We eat our food and cake in their heat, but there wasn’t much complaining from the proprietor, who was constantly out the back making tea, coffee, and lukewarm chocolate.. Siobhán broke out a delicious home-made cake, and everyone got the giggles.
Then more descending, which David and Ronan didn’t want to end, so they kept going down, when the rest of us took a right turn. I dove after them, hoping they had noticed the lack of followers and slowed. I caught them within 10km while they had stopped to look for directions, and we turned around and got back on track. The image of Ronan’s windscreen wiper is forever scorched into my mind’s eye.
Valdis and Pat were also AWOL, and during the long trudge home, we worried that they were lost in the French wilderness. Until we hit the final sweeping descent through a gorgeous valley. The two boys were home ahead of us though, so all was well, and that night we celebrated Peter’s stag with champagne and toasts (no toast though).
No comments:
Post a Comment