One thing that wasn’t cancelled last year was that bike race in France. The one that shot to fame in the rest of the world (i.e. the US) when some guy from Texas started winning it with improbable ease and then turned out to have been cheating all along.
The Tour de France is on again right now. I’m aware that to many, it’s just too weird and esoteric for their tastes, but once it’s got its hooks into you, it’s addictive. The history, the traditions, the riders’ incredible endurance, their bravery are utterly compelling. And then there are all the personalities, the sub-plots, the tactics . . . only a five-match test cricket series comes close to the Homeric scope of the event. You even have utterly bonkers supporters to add a bit more colour to an already colourful cavalcade.
So anyway, all fired up by young Aussie rider Ben O’Connor’s victory in the mountains yesterday, it was off on the old road bike for me today. That’s just about where the similarity ends, however: yesterday’s Tour stage (one day out of three weeks, let me stress) was 144.9 km and included 4,500m of climbing. Today, I essayed 23.4 km with a breathtaking 182m of climbing.
Hey, it was enough for me – O’Connor is, after all, less than half my age. And once, long ago, your blogmaster did complete a stage of the Tour. The year was 2007; in line with Tour tradition, the Grand Départ took place in one of France’s neighbouring countries. In those halcyon pre-Brexit days, the UK had the honour: on 7 July the peloton raced 203 km (126 miles) from London to Canterbury. Chaucer himself would have applauded.
The day was won by Aussie sprinter Robbie McEwen even though he crashed with 20km to go. But my own little peloton didn’t see all that – our adventure on the course happened the day before the pros went down the road. I think the organisers did this so we’d clear all the crap off the road after heavy rains the previous few days. My four punctures saved four hardworking professionals from suffering that fate on the big day.
I can only add that the pure hunger you experience when slogging 200km under your own power must be experienced to be believed. Pro riders on the Tour burn between 5,000 and 8,000 calories a day; anywhere close to that requirement has you hoovering down pretty much anything edible in sight. We battened on the Soreen Malt Loaf that was available at every stop – until there came a point when just the sight of the sticky brown lumps threatened to induce projectile regurgitation.
Today’s leisurely pedal was unremarkable in almost every way except for the 10 kph headwind that sprang up as soon as Braidwood fell behind; the temp was 10oC and this niggling zephyr made it seem colder. But then not only did O’Connor triumph in the mountains despite torrential rain, but my own 2007 Tour experience, true to the UK summer, required a rain jacket, gloves and those bootees you pull on over your shoes to keep your toes warm. I, too, have suffered.
Oh, and it may be worth mentioning that today’s exertions were done on the same bike as those of 2007, which has provided sterling service in the UK, Singapore, South Africa and now Australia. It’s an oldie but goodie – which I think is quite a good soubriquet for anyone to go for, particularly when it comes to athletic exertion.