Stage fright

Saturday arrived overcast (again) and a morning of considerable faffing meant we were later starting than we wished. Bikes were dumped in the Parc-Ferme at the start, and we were off through Pau, in pretty rough traffic.

It seemed to take ages to exit the town, but the route to Gan was still a promising straight, slightly downhill road. After Gan, the rollers started, and I started to think about how much this was going to slow me down.

And then Rebenacq arrived. This village merits not a mention in any DVD reviews, and doesn't make it to the Etape profile at all. However, the Rapha review promises that this is the point where 'the peloton with blow apart'. Nearly right (more later), but it does have one of those 140m climbs that seems to go on forever when you're in the car. Labatmale follows, Category 3 K-O-T-M climb, and long. Doubts surfaced about my ability to make it to Lourdes with any lead over the broom wagon. We made it to Lourdes, tired and fractious. Food was needed, McDonalds obliged.

Slightly more upbeat, we headed out over Loucrup, Category 3 K-O-T-M and more immediate than Labatmale. The next few miles drag gradually uphill to St Marie-de-Campan and the promised Tourmalet. At another 17km of distance, and 1300 meters of climb, this would be the longest, highest climb I had ever experienced. At least I would be doing it in the car. Some 5 km up the road, we reached the cloud line, and visibility dropped to under 15 metres. Sometimes it was almost impossible to pass bikes going up, as we couldn't see far enough to tell if anything was coming down. Gradients seemed immense, and unrelenting in the fog. We almost saw La Mongie, but both sides of the road were hidden in the mists, and 4 km later we arrived at the summit, and parked up. By this time, my head was spinning, and knees wobbling. Getting out of the car, I looked over the edge.
Big mistake. Head spinning turned to nausea, knees failed completely, and left me clinging to the car. My old friend vertigo had returned. I had no choice but to phone my wife and inform her that my completion of the Etape was impossible. Even if I got to the top, I could evidently not descend the mountain.......and live.Thankfully, she gave me a good talking-to, and raised my spirits a little.

The descent was helped a little by not being able to see the drop-offs, and by the time the cloud abated we were back amongst the meadowlands further down, but I was no longer under any illusions of what lay ahead, and I didn't like the thought of any of it.

By the time we reached the Hautacam turnoff, we no longer had time to drive up and back down. Hautacam would have to remain a surprise.

Parked up, caught the bus back to Pau, Pasta-partied, and returned to the Gite for a night of failing to sleep. One way or another, tomorrow was going to be one hell of a day.