Day Five: 1st July 2015
Crest-Voland to Talloires
The
final day of our tour saw us observing another of our customs - the donning of
the tour shirt by all; we emerged from our rooms resplendent in our black Col
Baggers attire, ready to tackle the final day.
The
breakfast at Le Caprice des Neiges featured the standard French faire with the
additional option of boiled eggs. The recommended six minutes in the boiling
basket resulted in an egg that was best eaten with a soup spoon and which rendered
the toast on which it sat somewhat soggy. Having been last at virtually every
undertaking during the week, this was not the one in which to be first.
Subsequent eggs spent a little more time in the water bath and those of my
fellow riders who exercised a little more patience than I got to enjoy an
altogether more solid experience.
One of
the benefits of not having to ride to a timetable or a route that is governed
by carnet stamping requirements, is that changes can be made to reflect the
general mood and condition of the group. Whilst we were all still capable of
riding the full route planned for the final day, we decided to alter the
planned course; instead of riding the Col de la Colombière, we opted instead
for the more nostalgically-named Col de la Croix Fry, in honour of 2012’s
errant Andorran explorer.
Before
re-routing took place, we still had the Col des Aravis to despatch, which was a
587m climb over 11 km from the town of Flumet. Although not many of our party
knew it at the time, the Aravis was one of the first cols that Lord T scaled on
the back of a bike and was therefore a landmark; it could be rightly considered
the col that led to the germination of an idea that a tour of mountainous
regions by a Lycra-clad party of middle-aged men was a wise and sensible thing
to do. At the top Paul explained how difficult that first climb had been, how
it had rendered him nauseous to the point of vomiting. Once again I had pause to
reflect on why, after such an experience, he would want to tackle more of the
same.
So
thinking, I embarked on the second last descent of the day to I know not where,
as we had by now departed from the planned route on our day cards. At the base
of our final climb, rather than risk delaying the boys too greatly at the top,
I set off a bit earlier than the others. Caroline and Sarah advised that the alternative
route we were taking was a few short kilometres up a gentle four or five degree
incline. They lied.
The road
began to rise steadily; 8, 9 and 10% gradients becoming the norm. The sweat
began to flow but the distance between me and the next rider began to lengthen.
After five days on the road I was feeling strong and the rest of the group were
struggling to maintain my pace. I looked over my shoulder and saw the
desperation in first Paul’s, then Max’s, Rob’s, Stuart’s, Keelan’s, Diesel’s
and Richard’s eyes as they realised that this final col was mine. Even Phil
looked pained at the pace I was keeping, and he was in the van. I eased back to
give them all half a chance, allowing them to recover their breathing, knowing
that I was able to boss the mountain.
As the
summit came into view, I could feel them jostling for position, all wanting to
be the first man up the last col. First Max, then Keelan, followed closely by
Paul and Rob went past me, setting off to claim victory with a final sprint.
It was a
brave but pitiful effort – I eased past them all, reeling them in one by one with
a demonstration of athletic prowess that left them stunned. It was exhibition
cycling at its best; a display of power and poise at which they could only
marvel. At least that’s how I remember it, some of the others might recount a
slightly different version of events but one thing is for certain, the Col de
la Croix Fry was mine!
For the
remainder of the day we rode together, yet more generosity from my fellow
riders making concessions to my more usual sluggish pace even though much of
the final distance was downhill, save for a cheeky wee flat as we neared
Talloires, our final destination. We arrived largely on schedule and completed
the final acts of the tour before disrobing and donning our togs for a swim in
Lac d’Annecy.
We
entered the beautifully manicured Plage de Talloires where holidaying families
were enjoying the sun and the cool mountain waters from the surrounding alps,
their peaceful afternoon just moments away from destruction as I demonstrated
the ‘Deffy’ to all who cared to witness. The Deffy is the antithesis of an
elegant dive into the water; it is designed to deliver maximum displacement,
and with my ample frame I duly achieved my goal, much to the fascination of
some of the younger lads who attempted to emulate the splash but, lacking the requisite
bulk, their efforts were somewhat lame.
We all
paddled for a time, enjoying the cool of the water after suffering in the sun
for the previous five days; it was a welcome alternative.
Swim
complete, we decamped to a restaurant for lunch. There were nine varieties of
pizza on the menu and we decided to have them all, and more than one of some
options, sharing them by taking a piece and passing the plate on. The manoeuvre
was vastly more successful than our rider circulation in the peloton, and
accomplished with aplomb, without a morsel left at the end of the session.
It was
washed down with beer, presentations and anecdotes, a disconcerting number of
which involved Stuart’s man-parts and Keelan ‘exploding like a puffer fish’ in
what I hope referred to the pizza rather than a reference to Stuart’s anatomy.
Sarah
and Caroline provided their summary of the trip and broadly speaking we were
generally well behaved, with the best behaved being yours truly, earning a particularly
fine bottle of fizz for my saintly endeavours.
With the
exception of our marvellous support crew, who would continue toiling on the
French roads for a further day and a half, we were all returning to the UK on
an evening flight from Geneva. The chattering in the van that had been the
hallmark of previous journeys yielded to the snuffles of weary men taking the
opportunity for 40 winks, as the equally weary support team once more ferried
us along French and Swiss roads. Happily the border guards didn’t challenge us
for passports as we entered the neutral territory of the Swiss; there may have
ensued a degree of unpacking that would have delayed many a car behind us had
that eventuality unfolded.
At the
airport we said our farewells to Caroline, Sarah and Phil and entered the terminal
to discover, in what is becoming a recurring theme bordering on conspiracy,
that ours was the only flight experiencing a delay. It afforded us a little
more time for duty free shopping and the ubiquitous Toblerone and gin found
their way into my hand luggage.
When we
eventually took off for home, we encountered an uneventful flight and set down
at LHR for the last rights. Evidently no emotional farewells were required;
Lord T and Rob had cleared customs and security, and were probably tucking into
the butler’s cucumber sandwiches before Stu, Keelan, Richard, Max and I had
returned to the Office Depot carpark to retrieve our cars for the drive home.
Diesel at least managed a cheery wave.
On the
drive home I had time to reflect upon this year’s ride. At many times
throughout the build-up I bemoaned my increasing age and waistline, arguing
with myself that this would be the last grand tour I’d do, my commitment to
training waning as other priorities emerged. Much of the training I put in was
of a solitary nature too, and my propensity to cycle in the garage rather than
on the road if the elements were not entirely favourable (as they weren’t for
much of the year) removed much of the enjoyment from the sport for me. As I
pulled into the driveway though and saw the sign flying from the eaves that
Alex and the children had once more made for me to reflect this year’s achievements,
I idly considered that there may yet be a little more pedalling remaining in my
legs, and a shade more weight that I can reduce.
Perhaps
next year will be the last…
Craig’s trip statistics
Day 1 27/06/2015 6hrs,
25mins, 39secs 73.09 miles 9,542 feet
Day 2 28/06/2015 6hrs,
31mins, 25secs 83.12 miles 7,448 feet
Day 3[1] 29/06/2015 2hrs, 57mins, 17secs 24.02
miles 4,298 feet
Day 4 30/06/2015 6hrs,
50mins, 47secs 62.90 miles 9,951 feet
Day 5 01/07/2015 3hrs,
01mins, 44secs 36.07 miles 3,504 feet
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