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Wonderful stuff MrO. Good luck and keep going. Apologise to Jenson's missus for me.
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Did the Col de la Bonnette today. Awesome climb. The descent was my worst 20 miles on a bike. Totally scary but not in a nice way.
I held my brakes firmly in my hands and my hands went numb. I stopped frequently to revivie them. Once when I was stopped in a lay by a peloton of very fast riders shot by followed by a support car. The car suddenly braked and then reversed 50 metres up the hill to where I was. The driver got out and said that he could not pass me without saying that my bicycle frame was the most beautiful frame in the world. It transpired that he had met Ben Serotta, the maker, recently in the States and believed that the Titanium Serotta Legend was the perfect frame. He saw mine and wanted me to know. I thnaked him and explained that I was a middle aged over weight cyclist who probably did not deserve such a wonderful object. And then I remembered. "But then again" I said "I have just climbed the Col de la Bonnette"."Exactly" he replied.
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Good work Clive, glad to hear you're enjoying it all other than the hairy descents.
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awesome Clive
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Did the Col de la Bonnette today. Awesome climb. The descent was my worst 20 miles on a bike. Totally scary but not in a nice way.
I held my brakes firmly in my hands and my hands went numb. I stopped frequently to revivie them. Once when I was stopped in a lay by a peloton of very fast riders shot by followed by a support car. The car suddenly braked and then reversed 50 metres up the hill to where I was. The driver got out and said that he could not pass me without saying that my bicycle frame was the most beautiful frame in the world. It transpired that he had met Ben Serotta, the maker, recently in the States and believed that the Titanium Serotta Legend was the perfect frame. He saw mine and wanted me to know. I thnaked him and explained that I was a middle aged over weight cyclist who probably did not deserve such a wonderful object. And then I remembered. "But then again" I said "I have just climbed the Col de la Bonnette"."Exactly" he replied.
exactly indeed clive. nice one fella
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Day 1 & 2
Eighteen nervous souls, clad in lycra, met at an unearthly hour in Lime Street on Saturday. With them were two drivers (one doubling as a cook), a physio and a mechanic. At 08:00, pedals turned and the party set off towards Dover on the first stage of their ride to Monte Carlo, raising funds for Combat Stress, the charity that cares for service men and women affected by post traumatic stress disorder ( http://www.combatstress.org.uk/pages/cs_tv_advert.html ).
The ride to Dover is not an easy one. A quick glance at the map shows both the North and South Downs stuck in the way. Nasty leg punishing climbs followed by technical descents along pot holed roads presented themselves, one after the other. The riders rode through them without mishaps apart from losing one of their number (later recovered) a few punctures and a couple of minor crashes. A flooded road by a cattle farm ensured that all the immaculately cleaned and serviced bikes were soon coated in a delightful smelling layer of cattle dung.
Every 30 miles or so, the peloton was greeted by a cheery support team providing water and food to fuel to southward rush.
The ride to Dover followed, for a considerable time, the Pilgrims Way and it is tempting to start this blog with a Prologue in which Chaucer's characters are presented as members of our party. The temptation is strong but my memory of medieval literature fails me. Suffice to say that Peter Harris, the ride organiser and leader does have a passing resemblance to the Wife of Bath.
Although there was a temptation to hammer the hills, sense prevailed and a gentle pace saved legs for the coming days. A delightful ferry crossing was followed by a charming ride through the industrial heartland around Calais to an equally charming hotel whose care and consideration at the time of check-in ensured that we were in our rooms within a couple of hours of arrival.
The Calais Hotel proudly announced that on Sundays it served breakfast late. Too late – and so it was that our cook and driver, Steve Hall, set up his kit in the car park of the hotel and cooked porridge and coffee for us all before our 7:30am departure. French roads are a joy to ride on after training in south east England: smooth, with considerate drivers and gentler gradients. In England, because hills are generally smaller, our forebears felt able to drive their sheep straight up providing us today with roads that rise straight upwards. Gradients of 20 and 25% are not uncommon and on Saturday we hit one long drag that rose to 17% In France, climbs are longer but less sharp and so it was on the second day of our ride that we undulated up and down for most of the day.
A stop for bacon sandwiches and eggs was followed by a long haul into a head wind. Every (but there were few) flat stretch and all the downhill sections were straight into the wind. A gruelling leg sapping sort of day. Forty miles from the end, after some 90 miles, the party stopped at the monument to the unknown fallen of the Somme, a poignant reminder of the reason for the ride.
When I say "the party stopped", I should clarify. Having been dropped from the bunch on a climb and having failed to catch them on the fall or descent, I was alone hoping to regroup at the memorial. I sailed straight by it and ended up riding the last 50 miles alone. Sundays in northern France are very quiet occasions. No shops or cafes appeared to be open and so it was by chance that I found the only one in 50 miles that was and managed to get water just as I was fearing terminal dehydration.
And so it came to be that I managed to arrive in Saint Quentin ahead of all the others who were still waiting at the monument for me. Hopefully I can regain some of my erstwhile popularity before the end of the trip.
Tomorrow: 140 miles and an early start.
If you’re interested, here’s the route:
Day 1
http://www.bikeroutetoaster.com/Course.aspx?course=222465Port to Hotel
http://www.bikeroutetoaster.com/Course.aspx?course=300610
Day 2
http://www.bikeroutetoaster.com/Course.aspx?course=301290
Day 3
http://www.bikeroutetoaster.com/Course.aspx?course=301190
Day 4
http://www.bikeroutetoaster.com/Course.aspx?course=301072
Day 5
http://www.bikeroutetoaster.com/Course.aspx?course=300933
Day 6
http://www.bikeroutetoaster.com/Course.aspx?course=301044
Day 7
http://www.bikeroutetoaster.com/Course.aspx?course=246813
Day 8
http://www.bikeroutetoaster.com/Course.aspx?course=300498
Day 9
http://www.bikeroutetoaster.com/Course.aspx?course=251961 -
**BLOG: The Tour de Monaco, day 3 **
06 September 2011
**Clive O'Connell, of the law firm Barlow Lyde & Gilbert, is cycling to the Monte Carlo Rendez-vous with Lloyd’s Cycling Club. He’s writing a blog so you can share his pain. **Day 3
Do not be fooled into thinking that this is a jolly jaunt down to the coast – 140 miles into a raging and unrelenting headwind is a firm test of any rider. Most people would have been impressed with a ride that just took the simple and scenic route to Monte Carlo. Impressing most people was far from Peter Harris' mind when he set the route and this third day could well be the hardest test of them all.
Two days of riding already felt on legs and minds and so the ride headed off into more unnecessarily undulating hills. The problem now was that with a frenzied headwind, descents were no longer freewheeling respites from the climbs but had to be fought for all the way down as the cover of the hill left the rider exposed to their force.
Whoever planned the route might have noticed that it appeared to take in every windfarm in north eastern France and that might have been a clue to the likely conditions. The wind blew hope from the soul and hurt heads as well as muscles. The psychological battle within raged. Setting off at 7:30am, we knew that we had to complete the 140 miles by sunset at 8:30pm, a simple enough task in normal conditions but not into that headwind.
After 80 miles the manicured vineyards of Champagne gave way to endless and hedge-less fields. The wind attacked with venom.
But we all made it. Only one rider, Peter Harris, came off his bike after a lengthy café break. He bounced back up only to fall over his prone bike. Luckily he was wearing a helmet but sadly not on his elbow or thigh.
Some riders took the day's course at a gentle pace but others, such as Michele Guinn of Willis and Neo Combarro of Lockton only know one pace and that is fast. I fell into the energy preserving camp.
Tomorrow should be a gentler ride and hopefully with more shelter. A mere 100 miles – but 100 miles closer to the Alps. -
The Tour de Monaco, days 4, 5 and 6
09 September 2011
**Clive O'Connell, of the law firm Barlow Lyde & Gilbert, is cycling to the Monte Carlo Rendez-vous with Lloyd’s Cycling Club. He’s writing a blog so you can share his pain. **
Day 4After an epic 140 mile drive into the wind, Tuesday's ride was supposed to be the kindest. A mere 100 miles or so and relatively flat. Relatively is, of course, a term that can disguise a number of sudden climbs but it is fair to dsay that the ride was easier that what had come before and no doubt what was to follow. We ar e heading south from Troyes to Dijon.
After three long and hard rides, however, the riders' bodies were finding new ways of expressing themselves. George, the physio is massaging aching limbs until after midnight and conversation has turned to subject normally considered personal.
Backsides have been the main subject of debate. Sore bottoms have taken grip of the peloton and everyone is forgetting pains in the muscles and focusing their attention and conversation on the part of the body that poerches on their saddle. Some of what is said perhaps should not be. When cycling, thoughts circulate through one's mind and some of those thoughts can be dark in nature. Steve Fletcher might have considered this before making suggestions which involved my bottom, an inner tube and a degree of inflation. While he says that he was trying to be helpful, the image lingers.
Three of us have formed an elite slow group, playing tortoise to the hares that are the other 15 riders. We set off early and ride steadily. Steve Fletcher, Roddy Caxton-Spencer and I are perhaps not the greatest athletes on this tour but our achievement will be all the greater should we arrive. Some people, when they feel like taking up cycling will aim for the 26 mile leukemaia bikeathon or the 53 mile BHF London to Brighton ride. Not Roddy. He went our, bought a new bike and is riding to Monte Carlo. The again, he is a man of extreme pursuits and is daily showing himself to be a strong rider.
We arrived reasonably early in Dijon and were able to enjoy a late afternoon washing bid shorts and eating for the next day. Sudacreme applied, an early night was in order.
Day 5: Dijon to Lyons - 130 milesAfter a decent rest, there appeared to be a little more optimism this morning before setting off for the last ride before the Alps. On the map it looked like a decent but untesting ride. 130 miles and not too many climbs. Of course, maps don't show wind and as we ride south the wind is driving from the south west. The wind sucks energy from legs and makes long days longer still.
The slow ride was made slower by seemingly sludgelike road surfaces that pulled back on tyres. Long café stops punctuated the journey as some riders sought solace in the bottle. Relief was provided after 80 or so miles with a roadside paella cooked by Steve Hall and containing many nutritious ingredients not all of which accounted for a decline in local fauna.
Flat countryside and fields of drying sunflowers have relaced vineyards but no one was discussing local culture. As the miles grew, the main subject was once again saddlesores and the various types that are available.
Finally the outskirts of Lyon arrived and some swiftl descents through rush hour traffic. Tiredness is starting to show on the faces and in the souls of all involved.
Day 6: Lyon to Alpe d'HuezThis was the day I have been fearing for months. 100 miles out of Lyon, into the foothills of the Alps and then up into the Alps proper and then an ascent of one of the most famous climbs in cycling.
We, the slow group, set out early. Over an hour negotiating the traffic of rush hour Lyon while squinting at the little red line on a satnav screen. A few false turnings and a route that led us into an alley and up some steps. Finally the countryside and some climbs. Using my carefully purchased ultra low gear (34X29 if you are technically minded), I coasted slowly up climbs and tucked in for swift descents. It is amazing how fast an obese man can move down a steep hill if balanced on two wheels.
Almost fifty miles and we stopped to be fed and arrived just before the two swift groups and left them munching on bacon sandwiches and scrambled eggs. Towards Grenoble, the route flattened and diverted up onto a smooth cycle path along the river for almost 20 miles and then out of town through industrial estates and then a search for the next feed at 80 miles. We reached it just after the group led by Neo Combarro and Paul Higgins among whose number Richard Panter was nursing the closest shave of the trip so far. The support drivers who witnessed his departurre over the handlebars and a wall, expected to have to mop up his remains (an added ingredient for tomorrow's paella perhaps). Richard was, luckily, unscathed.
We pressed on and up, now climbing into the Alps and now falling behind the faster groups. Even Peter Harris passed us at pace.
By now, it was apparent to any but the most deluded that the prospect of this aging and large chap cresting the Alpe d'Huez was only to be the subject of fantasy. My calculations indicated that if I was going to do the climb I would need at least two and a half ours and there wasn't that much time before sunset. The prospect of being alone on a dark and cold mountain did not appeal and so I waved the other riders off and went to the hotel to wait.
Some time later, as the sun was setting, they arrived. Freezing, exhausted but exhilerated. Darek the mechanic had achieved the fasted time of one hour, only just over 20 minutes more than the posssibly drug assisted record. Paul Higgins and Neo Combarro managed it in an amazing 1 hour 16 minutes and all the riders made it up in under 1 hour 30 minutes . All truly amazing times. I felt ashamed but rather grateful not to be still climbing.
Tomorrow a couple more Alps but in daylight. I shall see what I can manage.
Over 700 miles and six days gone. Two more climbing days and then it is literally downhill all the way.
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Day 7 The Alps
We woke in the beautiful town of Bourg. A town overshadowed by huge mountains and dominated by cycling. At 7:15am, the three "stragglers" rode off. I was leading as I had a Garmin GPS and was trying, in the half light, to follow the pink line on the screen. I failed. After two miles, we realised that we had set off in entirely the wrong direction and had to turn around and start again. By the time we were back at the start, the better riders (and there are many) had left and so we faced a long and lonely day in the hills.
As the gradient increased, the athleticism of my two companions showed and Roddy Spencer and Steve Fletcher moved more swiftly upwards than my colossal frame could manage. I turned the pedals slowly in my lightest gear and moved forwards; agonisingly slowly but forwards none the less. The sun rose over spectacular landscapes but I stared at the tarmac ahead and the data displayed on my cycling computer. My heart was still beating, I was moving, the gradient was increasing and my cadence was woefully low. Tunnels were cold, dark and disorientating and lorries rushing through them were scary. Gradually the gradient lessened and then turned into a descent. I changed up my gears and pedalled easier and faster. I was exhilarated after my first Alpine climb.
And then I realised something about underwriters and brokers. I had been told that we were doing a 20 mile climb at an average of 5% gradient. I had not been told that the average gradient consisted of some descents and so as I descended I was allowing the actual gradient after the drop to rise more swiftly than 5%, considerably more.
Hours passed. At a speed of less than 4mph, hours do pass. Suddenly I saw some of the "faster" riders perched outside a café enjoying a break. I carried on. I passed Roddy beset with a mechanical problem. I carried on. The faster riders passed me later but occasionally I would pass some resting ones as I carried on climbing until I saw the support vehicles surrounded by a group of riders. A camera was pointed at me and I struggled to zip up my jersey and failed.
A rest and food and a choice. An 8 mile detour up Galibier or on. I chose to go on as did a number of others. Roddy chose to go up and conquered one of the iconic Alpine climbs only a few days after discovering how gears worked and having botched a mechanical solution by disconnecting his rear break, a brave move before Alpine descents.
My first Alpine descent was horrible. I bottled it and came down clawing at the breaks.
Lunch at the bottom and then a gentle climb. Another 20 miles. Another road decorated with names of Tour legends. Heat was the problem as I plodded away. Others rode faster and then rested. I was keeping pace in my tortoise-like manner.
The climb up L'Isier took me around four hours. Heat and altitude took their toll. I left something of myself on that mountain but thankfully below the tree line.
Eventually the summit was reached. A huge feeling of achievement. A huge debt of gratitude to everyone who gave me support and help.
And then the descent. The most horrifying 20 miles of my life. I cannot even bear to describe it. Roddy did it without brakes.Day 8
The Alps continued.
I have never felt so tired as I did this morning. The morning routine. Shower, chamois crème, bib shorts and jersey. Cram food in. Pack, load bags, check bike, fill pockets, fill bottles and off early; earlier than the good riders.
The plan was for us to ride together. I was too slow and Steve and Roddy dashed off up the hill. Steve is the oldest member of the party. He is also a lot stronger than me. I was soon over taken by others as we climbed the Col de Var. A game plan had been adopted where other riders were taking breaks in order to keep in touch with my slowness and be around to support me. A beautiful, if long, climb through the ski resort and up to a wonderful summit and café break.
Another horrifying descent. I cannot do Alpine descents. Fear of roads which have nothing on one side and that descent through hairpins over voids means that I went slowly down burning rubber on my brakes with increasingly heated rims. A puncture; my first of the trip. I was really scared. I eventually, long after the others, reached the bottom and ate a quick lunch before the afternoon's entertainment.Col de la Bonnette.
La Bonnette has only been used four times in the Tour de France and most of those in days when drug use abounded. It is too hard, especially from north to south. It is, at 2,802 metres, the highest mountain pass in Europe. The scenery, I am told is awesome but I did not see much of it. The gradient rose as high as 12%. With huge encouragement and support, I managed to lift the 17 and a half stone of my obesity to the top despite soaring heat and altitude issues, sheep wandering onto the road ringing their bells, German motor cyclists bombing up and down and classic car rallyists belching oil laden smoke behind them. I made it.
What goes up must come down and this was the scariest descent of them all. I held my brakes firmly in my hands and my hands went numb. I stopped frequently to revive them. Once when I was stopped in a lay by a peloton of very fast riders shot by followed by a support car. The car suddenly braked and then reversed 50 metres up the hill to where I was. The driver got out and said that he could not pass me without saying that my bicycle frame was the most beautiful frame in the world. It transpired that he had met Ben Serotta, the maker, recently in the States and believed that the Titanium Serotta Legend was the perfect frame. He saw mine and wanted me to know. I thnaked him and explained that I was a middle aged over weight cyclist who probably did not deserve such a wonderful object. And then I remembered. "But then again" I said "I have just climbed the Col de la Bonnette"."Exactly" he replied.
After the down a vicious four mile ascent at an average of 7% to the hotel and a weary but happy final night dinner.
Tomorrow, the ride to Nice and Monte Carlo.
Oh, and if you see him, please remember to ask Neo Combarro about how he managed to bunny hop a dog... -
Day 9
The last day of our ride was something that we had dreamed of since the route was published. 60 miles downhill to Nice and then a pleasant ride along the coast to Monte Carlo. My determination to ride the last day had driven me through the Alps, through the windy plains of northern France and through the agonies of hours on the bike.
We woke later than usual, or at least we were allowed a slight lie in. Packing and arranging the logistics of luggage to go back to London or to stay for the RendezVous. A more relaxed breakfast and then we were off.
The ride was not simply all that it had promised, it was more. After the horror of Alpine descents the more gradual and less precarious road to Nice was a joy to ride, tucked low over the handle bars and moving at speeds that challenged the little Sunday morning traffic that there was. Sheer bliss. We negotiate Nice and rode along the Promenade des Anglais. A couple of near accidents as riders eyes were averted from the road ahead by sights that they saw on the beach. A cold drink over looking the port and then on and along the coast road to Beaulieu sur Mer for a last relaxing lunch.
We paused at 3pm to remember the events of 10 years ago; those that had lost their lives and those whose lives have been affected since then by the war on terror that was the response to the attacks on the WTC. The ride was raising money for Combat Stress and on so many occasions, the start on 3 September the anniversary of the outbreak of the Second World War, the visit to the cemeteries of the Somme and now, the anniversary of 9/11, we were reminded of what service men and women had had to endure at the request of their country for the good of others. Our pain and suffering were nothing in comparison. This had helped many of us drive forwards.
After lunch we rode together for the last six miles of our journey. A 5% gradient up a long tunnel into Monte Carlo was a last kick from the road to weary but now buoyant cyclists. I found a degree of fitness outweighing any exhaustion and climbed with ease. At last the sight of the principality. Monaco Ville, the port and its floating gin palaces, the Hermitage and then the Casino. Dead on the arranged time of 4pm we rode in to applause from waiting supporters. It was over and the ending was emotional. The next day the Reactions daily newsletter carried a picture of me hugging a broker. Something, somewhere, had changed for ever.
After saying farewell to my riding companions and packing my bike away, I checked into the Hermitage (a little more luxurious than the hotels were visited en route) showered changed and rushed to my first appointment. Over fifty appointments followed over the next three days. Dinners lunches and breakfasts as well as drinks parties punctuated meeting every half hour without respite. An endurance feat in itself. Yet, I felt able to cope and never tired or stiff. My only physical complaint is numbness in my hands following gripping my brakes in the Alpine descents. A week before my 54th birthday, I had completed the most arduous physical challenge of my life and done sop successfully.
I could not have done it without the support of all of the team who rode or drove in support.
The team was:
Andrew Bradley - Unicredit. A friend of the club not from the market but an excellent rider, supporter and companion.
Neo Combarro - Lockton. An awesome rider and athlete. His rendition of "Bread of Heaven" as he passed me on a col will haunt me forever.
Roddy Caxton-Spencer - Besso Insurance Group. An inspiration.
Rick Welsh - Aspen. Charming, strong and ever supportive. He helped me conquer the cols.
Dave Davies - "The Riddler" - The second oldest rider, Dave's unselfish support over the first few days, got me through the dark times before my fitness kicked in.
Stephen Fletcher - Vectura Underwriting. The oldest but (other than me) the best equipped rider. Strong in the climb.
Michelle Gwynn - Willis. The only woman but stronger and more determined than most of the men.
Ben Galloway - CV Starr. Always cheerful; always fast and strong.
Jamie Stewart - Inteq. Another "ringer". A great rider and hugely supportive every time he sped past me.
Peter Harris - Ride leader, secretary of the LCC without whom nothing would have happened. The true star of the occasion.
Paul Higgins - Gibbs Hartley Cooper. One of the strongest climbers.
Richard Jones - Baker Hughes. A "ringer" and wonderfully cheerful companion.
Geoff Wilkinson - Swiss Re. Light as a grey hound and strong as an ox. The only other rider with the stamina to do the RendezVous as well.
Stuart Maleno - BLG and soon to be Clyde & Co. The youngest rider who rode with determination through a viral complaint.
Richard Norris - Novae. A veteran of many LCC rides who used his experience to inspire.
Clive O'Connell - BLG. The heaviest rider although 9 pounds lighter even after the RendezVous.
Richard Panter - Catlin. A hugely experienced rider who encouraged and cheered me in some dark times.
Darek Pokojowczyk - Mechanic, Evans Cycles. The strongest rider who ensured that all our bikes made it.
Steve Hall - Catlin, Support Driver and cook. His feed stops were gourmet in standard and fuelled the ride.
Gavan Connolly - MLW Associates, Support Driver. The architect of all the support without whom we would not have arrived.
George Labor - Physio. His cheery smile, unquestioning assistance and manipulative hands so often saved the day.A huge thank you to them all and to those who sponsored and otherwise supported us.
Norman Tebbitt famously exhorted us all to get on our bikes and look for work. My next challenge awaits.
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massive chap to the fucking eau Clive - not just for the ride itself but also for the amount of training you put in beforehand
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About
London to Monte Carlo 03-09-11 to 11-09-11
Posted by
@cliveo
Get up Col de la Bonette, enjoy the descent, keep the momentum, and do a looong skid into MC