Day 5 - Snow, snow, thick thick snow

Some legs still hurting today, so with the sun beating down again we split into two groups.

Tim, Dewi and Paul head out on the back road through Argentiere to Guillestre, returning home on the main road. The back road is another hidden gem, short (in alpine terms) shallow (it's all relative) climbs and twisting descents with panoramic views along the valley below.

(This pic, Shelley and Meirion at the foot of the Galibier)

The water main running alongside the road is a distraction as it crosses a ravine...two years ago we rode down here in rain so hard the road surface was invisible, but the sprinklers were still on in the fields, go figure.

The rest of take a plod up the Col de Lauteret, with the exception of Gareth who has finally succumbed to a sore throat (unless he has gone out alone to ride up the Izoard on 53x12, time after time until he loses consciousness, also known a a recovery period, before doing it again)

The cafe at the top is my favourite, we are 2000 metres up here and the clear air and snow capped peaks make it a relaxing spot for a coffee.
Coffee done with we take a stab at the Galibier after watching the snow ploughs come down to call it a day. We only get 3kms and meet the snow, the road chiselled out for us, marmots darting across every 100 metres or so, until a kilometre later we are stopped dead by the snow, 2 feet deep and so much of the climb left to go.

Turning round Shelley and I pick up Meirion on the descent, his knee has been hurting on the climb so he played safe, and sweep back down towards Briancon, turning in Serre Chevalier for the Col De Granon. I'm told this is the hardest climb here, and it tries to live up to its reputation with a steep first 3km before the road breaks out of the trees and opens up to reveal a narrow, snaking exposed climb that meanders steeply until we are stopped again by snow after just 11km...Steve tells me that the 4km after that are awesomely steep and we have missed the best bit. To be honest, it has been steep enough, I haven't hit a tempo anywhere and have been in and out of the saddle all the way up on my lowest gear.

Another adrenalin inducing descent, steep hairpins and stunning views then back to town while Alan cooks for us again, Spicy Tomato Pasta this time, and much appreciated.

Simon Miles: 55

What we learned today: You can't get close enough to a marmot while riding a bike to actually photograph it.

Day 4 - If your legs don't hurt today they will by tomorrow.

The sun has disappeared, it seems an opportune time to throttle back and have a short steady day, let the legs recover and make sure you have enough energy for the rest of the week.

Not everyone has the same idea though. Myself, Alan, Meirion, Shelley and Mark head towards Haut Vallee, a 20 mile steady road that actually climbs to almost 2000 metres, but just never feels like that. It is the most pleasant option in the area for a ride with very little climbing.

Above is Tim demonstrating how to protect yourself from the sun at altitude...go out in the rain wearing everything you own.

Out along here we see the damage caused by a recent avalanche, and eventually turn round at 15 iles as Mark has to leave today and needs to get back, packed and moving. I grumble a bit, the rest of the road is superb...surrounded on all sides by steep wooded slopes, dotted with waterfalls, and barely a car in sight, a treat if you usally ride in the tourist packed Peak District with heavy quarry traffic all over the place. It turns out to be the right choice though, cold rain starting to fall before we are halfway back.

Everyone else heads up the Briancon side of the Izoard, staying together for the climb before splitting up to either enjoy the descent back and chill out for the rest of the afternoon (Rich and Dewi), or complete the 65 mile clockwise loop down the other side, along the gorge to Guillestre and back to town. They get wet, actually quite wet...now I think about it, cold too...just look at the pics, doesn't look so nice on the Izoard today.

Today's reward though is tea in the old town, the walled part of Briancon at the top of the hill, the bit favoured by race organisers for stage finishes of the Tour and the Giro.

The pic here is Dewi doing his best to look ferocious, this is to ward off cattle, dangerous things y'know. That merits expanding I think.

My training partner and team mate, Steve Gibson, had a very nice carbon TT frame for sale, so I mentioned it to Shelley, and Dewi appeared as a buyer almost immediately. The frame was duly posted and lovingly built by Dewi.

Several weeks later, perhaps a little concerned that he hadn't been paid yet, Steve called Dewi to check up, only to find that Dewi, on the bike's maiden voyage, had tried, and failed, to get through a gap in a herd of cows in the first mile of the Ystwyth Club 10 TT. He hit the cow, followed by a gatepost, snapped the frame in two and ended up with the bruising you see below as a pointer for where the broken bits of his body were...2 vertebrae, a few ribs and so on.

Steve would like to apologise for pissing himself laughing on the phone while trying to sound concerned, he isn't always very good at that.

There is very little, if any, truth in the scurrilous rumour that Shelly, as the first rider on the scene of the accident, hesitated and checked his stopwatch to see if he was on for a personal best before deciding to go to Dewi's aid. Just not true, really.

Simon Miles:30

What we've learned today: French brides to be, apparently, tour the town seeking signatures on a petition of some sort. I must look this tradition up and debunk the only other theory I could think of, that being that the bride presents it to the groom if reports of the stag night were too wild and proclaims it to be a list of all the men she slept with on the hen night.

Tim signed out of politeness, we all declined having no wish to be named later in an international divorce or paternity case.

Day 3 - Alpe d'Huez - Revenge of the old fella

This is the big one for most of the boys really. As Phil Ligget says, there are bigger climbs and steeper climbs, but the Alpe has to be done really.

The last tme I rode over here it snowed lightly on the Alpe, just enough to bring on mild hypothermia for the descent. The whole ride was spent layered up...today the sun is out.

The breakfast club is developing quickly, my morning croissant run is expanding to the point that the bakery has to take on another member of staff. Just to note here, there are 5 boulangeries nearby, the one in the market square is by far the best...I've tried them all.

I've done this ride so many times now that I have a good feel for where people need to start the ride to survive it comfortably. The fanatics can ride straight out over the Col de Lauteret (27k), descend to Bourg d'Oisans (another 43k) then start the climb (13k, just a baby). For the first time I have company, Gareth, Mark and Meirion joining me for the full 100 miles. Tim generously offers to take the van over the Lauteret to La Grave, 11k down the other side, where we will all meet up for the rest of the ride.

So, Gareth takes us up the Lauteret at a blistering pace until first me, then Mark, are forced to sit up. Regrouping near the top we drop quickly down this fastest part of the descent to La Grave and install ourselves with a coffee in the most visible bar terrace. We only have to wait 5 minutes for a perfectly timed Tim to pull up nearby, and the group is together for the easiest start to any ride...30km of descent and flat before the climb. This is a stunning valley, punctuated by long, dark cold tunnels, and delayed by just one puncture for Mark when he clips a small rock, we are soon at the foot of the Alpe.

This will be the 4th time I've climbed this in the company of Meirion, and true to form he sets off like a rocket in the hope of crushing my morale completely. Everyone else takes their pace from Meirion, except of course for Gareth who is already at the top doing power intervals on the big ring before we have hit the 2nd hairpin.

Fact time, 21 hairpin bends on here, all numbered in countdown, and each one named after a previous stage winner on the climb. The first 3 bends are, in my opinion, the steepest, and after that I settle into the climb a bit. So, as is traditional, I overhaul Meirion after the 3rd bend and lay that one to rest for another year, still got Mark in sight but Gareth is long gone. Richard and Alan have sensibly given themselves a head start when we stopped earlier for some long forgotten reason, and are benefitting from a steady start to the climb.

It passes, as it always does, slowly, interupted briefly by the official photographer who snaps then passes a card with the web address for your overpriced pic. Follow the signs through the ski resort, past the only open bar, and if you are not too delirious you can follow the 'Itinerary du Tour de France' signs to the official finish line. I get there to find Gareth waiting, Mark, who I passed at half distance, has been overhauled by a turbo charged Tim who is just a couple of minutes behind me, and well ahead of the younger, lighter racing members of the Ystwyth CC. This has to be the ride of the week, shame on the rest of you.

When Dewi and Paul arrive I am suitably impressed by their suggestibility. They actually ride back down for 1k so they can sprint it out for the finish linetat they managed to miss on the way up...leaves me wondering what else I might be able to get them to do.

Lunch in the bar, vegetarians take note, the girl there struggles desparately with the concept of meat free and on her 2nd attept simply peels the ham off a croque monsieur ad hands it back.

We split up now, Gareth wants to torture himself some more and ride harder, so heads back the way we've come, while Mark leads us over the back road to the bottom of Les Deux Alpes...superb, bit more climbing but followed by 15k of manic, narrow, gravel strewn scenic descent...2 punctures for Meirion. Back up the interminable Lauteret where Tim loads half the group back into the van while me, Paul, Meirion, Mark and Shelley continue over the top, filling the bottles on the way from a variety of very dubious sources.

The descent off the Lauteret gives me a chance to make up for blowing on the climb as I let my fairly hefty body take me down the other side so quickly I don't pedal for 15k but put a minute into a hamster like Mark.

This evening we will dine on a huge curry, prepared by the resident chef, Alan (who did in fact used to be a chef, handy huh?).

Simon Miles: 98

What we learned today: Meirion didn't bring any extra tubes...again.

Richard is cold!

Day 2- In the wheeltracks of Chiapucci!

Aiming to start at 10.00am each day seems easy, but we are all aware of the Shelley factor and the knock on effect it can have for days. In light of this, 10.30 ain't bad.

Now, Briancon is already quite high up, some 700m above sea level, and sits at the foot of the Cols de Lauteret, Izoard and Mongenevre...there is a steady road out though. And so we go along the road to Haut Vallee to the foot of the Col d'Echelle to warm the legs up before introducing the Alpine virgins in the group, Paul, Tim and Dewi, to some proper scenery.

15km out and the climb starts, the bodies start to stretch out as you can see above, but just 3km of climbing here takes us to a plateau, then straight onto the breakneck descent to the winter olympic town of Bardoneccia...11km of tight hairpins and sweeping straights, finishing with an 80kph run into Italy...Dewi's ear to ear grin at the bottom sums it up.

Tim Johnson, to your left here, needs putting into context early on. 6'2" and 14 solid stone with wrists bigger than my ankles, I fear for him on the longer climbs, he isn't made for this...bwuhaahaaahaaa, what a ringer he turns out to be.

The valley road to Oulx is over quickly, and with less traffic than usual, then to Cessana where we fill the bottles from a fountain, douse heads and necks to cool down, cos it's hot already, then onto Sestriere.

The climb to the ski resort is just 11km, but starts at 12% and after an easy middle section, kicks up again to the town. Gareth takes off for some solo training leaving the rest of us to grind up in 1s and 2s. Sestriere, for those who don't know their 1990's cycling histrory, is where Claudio Chiapucci sealed the King of the mountains with an epic solo ride, and Indurain sealed the fate of the rest of the peleton with his brutal solo chase behind.

Seen here is Dewi Hughes, lucky to be out really. Just 8 weeks ago Dewi was lying in Intensive Care with 2 fractured vertebrae, broken ribs and a folding TT frame after his midweek encounter with a cow (he was looking at her pint).

Of all the bizarre sights, we found the General Lee on the summitt...no sign of Daisy though.

Lunch in the french version of the Terminator classic bar, Tech Noir (judging by the soundtrack), and then the glorious descent off the mountain...fast straights, sweeping bends and a hot wind before the final few hairpins at the bottom, then onto the climb of Mongenevre to return to Briancon.

This climb is my bete noir, never been able to ride it comfortably, much to Meirion's amusement.

Just 7 km of climbing with a couple of tunnels though, then sweep into Briancon for the first post ride mass cafe stop in the town square.

Training camps are hellish, don't you think?

Simon Miles: 65

What we've learned today: Gareth McGuinness, current TLI National Champion for his age group, started racing just three years ago. He lists his previous interests as drinking, smoking anf fighting, and reckons he was better at all three than he is at racing...scary thought.

Day 1 - The dark side of the Izoard

Question. How hard is it to get from Geneva to Briancon? Mark Stanley managed it in just a few hours. Meirion and Gareth though managed to stretch out a 6.30pm eta to a final arrival of 2.15am.


For those in the Ystwyth CC who missed this, this is the 5th time I've managed to convince people to come out to the mountains for some fun, 4th time in Briancon...lack of imagination? Perhaps.




Back to Meirion...Apparently there are no signs on the north side of the Col de Telegraph telling you that the Col de Galibier, the next climb on, is shut...there were at least 4 on the side Alan Broadbent and I drove on.


After getting to the top only to turn round again, they opted for the tunnel through to Italy instead...can you guess what was closed for repairs. And so, fast asleep at 2.00am my phone went off. "We have finally made it to Briancon, actually about 45 minutes ago, but we can't find the house", says Meirion. Just to put the icing on the cake, they had lost their document pouch in the airport...maps, addresses, flight details and so on.

After greeting them and pointing gruffly towards an empty bedroom I spent the rest of the night trying, and failing, to block out Alan's snoring. Be thinking of a particularly distressed wart hog trying to blow a loaf of bread out through it's nostril.


Saturday morning and the sun comes out, the croissants are fresh and we are actually feeling restrained. The valley road to Guillestre through Argentiere and Champcella is a rolling road with breathtaking views and short climbs that whets the appetite for the even more dramatic gorge that takes you to the foot of the Izoard.

First and only mechanical of the week is down to Alan after just 5 miles. We've already done some remedial work so that he can perform some basic operations...y'know, steering,braking, but his first change onto the 27 sprocket puts the gear mech in the wheel. Quickly saved, we are off again.


This side of the Izoard is the most dramatic, but just not funny. Gareth big rings the first 5km and disappears into the distance. The next time we all meet up will be at the bar at the foot of the mountain, after 17kms of beautifully smooth descent. Sheffield City Council take note...THERE ARE MORE POTHOLES BETWEEN MY HOUSE AND ANDY JONES', 600 METRES AWAY, THAN THERE ARE IN 34 KM OF MOUNTAIN ROAD THAT SPENDS 6 MONTHS OF THE YEAR COVERED IN SNOW...thanks, I feel better now.





Dwarfed by the scenery here is Meirion.



















We get back to find the Ystwyth boys have arrived safely after driving all the way in Tim Johnson's van, and have gone out to loosen off the legs on the short side of the Col d'Echelle. It seems only fair at this point to apologise to the beleagured waitress at the restaurant we chose that night...sorry, we were all very hungry and excited, I know it was hard work, and pidgen french in snowdonia accent is never easy.

Simon miles: 62

What we've learned today: Ferme means shut...Meirion!