Day 8.5. La Mer...

Did we make it ???

Here it is, the final day of riding, at the van for 7 am, finally a later alarm call as even Pugsatawney Phil had had enough of 5:45.  All packed at the hotel and after the usual ritual at the van we hit the road.  

I had mixed emotions, there was the excitement of a child on Christmas Eve wanting to get to Monte Carlo, then on to Italy (would we make it to Italy?) but then also the slight tinge of sadness that this was the last day and the adventure was ending.

Off we went, heading for the sea front at Nice.  It wasn’t long before the Garmin did it’s usual "slight detour" and as we headed through Nice airport we noticed the sign above the lane stated “KISS AND DROP”.  I had a giggle at that one as it was just a touch more romantic than the equivalent "arrivals" in Manchester.  

As we passed through we noticed that the fence was reinforced with razor wire and parked within feet of us were all the private jets, lined up ready for the next flight.  What a sight to see these amazing machines in a row all well capable of making our 8 day journey in under 2 hours. 

The peace was interrupted by an aircraft taking off, we watched as it gained height and banked right out to sea. The sun glistening on its wing and fuselage, I commented to Richard what a view it was as it climbed into the cloudless sky and he agreed. 

Oh I do like to be beside the seaside 

Finally we managed to get on the promenade, it was busy with cyclist, joggers, runners roller blades and long boarders.  The stoney beach was busy with sunbathers and swimmers and it was only 9 am. 

The sea looked stunning so we stopped, walked to the waters edge and let our front wheel touch the water. I have no clue why it just felt like the right thing to do to mark the fact we had arrived at the Mediterranean Sea.  We could go no further south without getting very wet and I paused to think what an achievement this was. 

Pictures taken, we set off through Nice heading to the target destination of Monte Carlo. My Gopro camera was working hard, so many memories to capture, including comments of the riders as we closed in on the famous city (enough said on that I think). 

We passed bays with large cruise liners and private yachts of the type a lottery winner may own.  Then looking for the sign to say we arrived, the harbor just appeared, that was it we were in Monte Carlo!

There were big smiles all round, hand shakes and pats on the back, Bob and Barry had followed us in by the most precise timing we had all trip to be there with us celebrating.

Donning our Tee shirts for the official photographs it was a free for all, with phones and cameras coming from all angles for the money shot by the yachts. 

Someone shouted "Beer!" and that was it; we were off to the first cafe/bar we could see. The beer always taste better for some reason when its been earned and after 8.5 days this was well and truly earned.  

Facebook was updated and the comments from friends and families at home were immense.  We were all very emotional as the sense of excitement and sadness was multiplied with the actual acheivement.

The beer was quickly drunk and to celebrate we thought of only one thing; A quick bike ride.  

We headed east along the coast to Italy, only a short 18 kilometers away but with the chance to add another country to the list why not?  The heat by now was intense and very clammy, we pressed on following the sign ITALIE, then in the distance we could see it, the border control. 

With our passports in our pockets we cycled through. It wasn’t the high we imagined as to our right along the sea wall was red cross gazebo’s full of aid relief for the refugees who we imagined had fled on boats and arrived in Italy.  We later learned France was not allowing them to cross the border, it wasn’t the best sight or time to celebrate. 

With pictures taken quickly at the Italy sign we rode back into France. The support bus arrived, Bob decided he wanted to cross the border, so he borrowed on of the bikes and he was off returning a short time later after the Garmin sent him the wrong way (joke!).  

Bikes loaded, Gary, Paul and Barry Williams were to be dropped off at the airport as they were flying home.  We said our farewells and we were off heading west initially then on to Lyon for our over night stay. 

The cycle ride was truly over, we had done it. 

EPILOUGUE

Day two on the journey home, I’m in the rear seats, headphones on, plugged into my iPod, listening to Green Day.  I’m then aware of Richard looking over from the next row, towards the rear of the bus, I take my headphones off and ask 

"Are You ok?"

Richard replied “yes. We’ve picked something up. There’s a strange noise coming from the back, Listen". 

I hear it.  It must be a rabbit, somethings alive in the rear, (maybe it's a banana skin?). Having seen the refugees at the Italian/French border, and then approaching the port of Calais, with the refugee camps there,  more serious thoughts may have been crossing people's minds. 

"The window wipers are on" I say calmly. They have been on all morning since Lyon and the glass is now screeching in protest. Crisis averted I put my headphones back in and settle back for the journey home. 

Day 8 - The Ibex Goats return

5.45 at the bus, for gods sake, will it never end!  I have learnt French, played at the charity concert and even had a playful snowball fight with annoying teenagers!  Still Andie MacDowell is just not interested in me... Sorry, I mean I have to ride my bike. 

We had a short journey today in the van to our starting point. With Mountains all around us draped in clouds and the sun rising to warm our backs this was our last full day of riding and spirits were high.

As much as the long time climbing of yesterday was painful, today we went downhill for 40 miles leaving the alps behind us. Well at least so I thought.  

A short time later we were stopping, Barry and Bob like the supreme hunter gatherers they are had found our breakfast croissants and lovely they were too. Very quickly we remounted the bikes and with Gary at the front, we made good time. Although some may say otherwise as the toll of our adventure was really beginning to bite. 

At times I really struggled to believe actually where we were.  We were heading to Grasse, our final destination before the finish, along the same route Napoleon’s took. This time last week we were in Chester Street, Wrexham. Is it really just a week ago?

Newtons law of cycling

As a cyclist, Newtons law of "what goes up must come down" is frequently front of mind. However today, like the tour, we had a mountain summit finish. So what goes down must come up and stay there.  

We finally reached the bottom of the descent, knowing we had to climb 9000 feet before the end of the day.  As the road started climbing up and up, I didn't know if i had given too much the previous day or not, i was about to find out.

We climbed up, but something didn’t seem right, the road was facing downwards.  We were climbing upwards, we know it. We had gadgets to tell us yet the river along side us, appeared to be flowing up hill.  How can that be right?  Had I been in the sun too long?   Whose idea was The Saturdays?  I digress but it was a bizarre feeling indeed. 

Speaking of the sun, the weather had been good to us all the way down, on this journey it looked like today was no different, it was blazingly hot. This is not ideal when you're about to climb 9000 feet whilst trying to keep your lungs inside your chest, but there was no complaints. It was better than the alternative for sure. 

We entered a pass to climb and suddenly we were sheltered.  No wind to cool our skin just the sun, like a scene from a western movie.  Motor bikes passed us as we slaved away one pedal turn after another. 

If you're not into cycling , let me explain, you either love mountains like Gary and I do, or hate them, there’s no in- between if you like them you are considered a goat!

Like the previous day it was up down up down gaining height all the time, Gary and myself after lunch left the team as we climbed at our pace. 

Sweating it out by ourselves, unbeknown to us what Paul Cooke was achieving, he climbed on his own up the pass refusing any assistance of the support crew, and finally made it to the top some time later, we were waiting of him, full of praise, well done Paul what a climb it was, we loaded the bikes up and made our way to the hotel. 

Only 50 miles to go now to our destination..

Day 7 - It's a long way to the top

5.45 at the van, is not getting any easier. I can't decide whether today I am going to learn the piano or how to speak French. The second may be useful.

  

We know today we ride to Grenoble to Gap through the Alps following Napoleons route. For those of you who don't follow Le Tour De France, Gap is a frequent stop for the professional riders as they traverse the Alps by his gives you an idea of the likely climbing we have to do during the course of the day. 

Setting off we climb through the countryside at a steady pace, passing cows with actual bells hanging from their necks.  We didn't see any purple MilkA chocolate ones though before you ask. They are in Switzerland. 

As we reached the first brow, there in front of us, rising into the blue sky, mountains. Big mountains and lots of them, we were at the foot of the Alps and it was a majestic view.

We then start to descend at quite a rate of knots towards Grenoble. Gary, as usual would guide us through the city, with his Garmin.   Having lost the support bus some time back, we stopped for a coffee as is the tradition of cyclists everywhere and carried on through the city, only coming to a stop, when Paul had a puncture. As with the morning starts, puncture fixing  fixing is again like a formula one pit crew, a far cry from the hour it took us to change Richard's puncture on the North Wales coast three weeks ago. 

Trigger happy

During our ride, Richard would frequently get phone calls from the support bus.  

It quickly turns into a scene from trigger happy tv, 

"HELLO WHERE ARE YOU?"

Mumble mumble mumble

"WE ARE ON THE D509"

Mumble mumble mumble

"NO THE D509 HEADING SOUTH, D509 HEADING SOUTH!"

I am sure you get the picture but like the Garmin Head Bob the ringing of Richards phone has become a tell tale sign that one of us is on a different route. In and around cities this is harder as we can progress far more quickly despite our aching legs. 

Heading out of Grenoble the riders need a comfort break and find a safe place, Steve again finds the opportunity for a forage, cherries are the order of the day and lovely they are too.

We leave Grenoble and onto the first Alpine pass of the day.  The agreed brief was to go at your pace as climbing is something you have a personal way to approach. Especially one of this length.  ,

From here on in, i can only really speak for myself and Gary as we went off together up the first climb. There were not so much S bends here but bends all the same, climbing up and up in the blazing sun, we pushed on to the top. The views were fantastic.  We waited for the rest to arrive just a short time later, admiring the view

We then had lunch.  Pretty straight forward you would think but at this stage into a draining endurance event remembering your name can be a challenge. Mike dropped his plate. It smashed on the floor!  With his toasty lying in the street, as quick as a flash he applied the five second rule; taking it in hand and eating it. This was much to the disgust of the waitress and to the support of the team. If only she knew what we had been through or maybe the cost of the plate came out of her salary?

So onwards and upwards we went with the return of the S bends.  As soon as you were around one it was a brutal climb again, it went on for hour after hour as we headed towards the cloudless blue sky. This will tell you something about cycling; it was the best climbing we had done!

Sweating in the heat, we continued.  Exotic cars flying passed us, Porches, Audi A8s, We even saw a fully functional Citroen. Looking into the ravine at our side we saw a military aircraft flying below us , it really couldn't get any better.

Gary and myself then decided to make a run for our destination at Gap climbing at our own pace. Off we went, climbing then descending. With some of the descents being 12% it was as brutal going down as it was going up. 

Really starting to struggle I told Gary to go ahead but he stayed with me, we pushed hard and finally met up with the rest of the team at 99.84 miles.  I looked at my watch and said, I’m not stopping now, its 100 or nothing, next lay by they said. So Gary and I agreed to do an additional climb. Off we went determined to get the 100, it was a brutal climb.  Around the corner we thought great they will be waiting, we rounded the corner no van!  Our long suffering teddies were once again ejected from the pram. In the works of Victor Meldrew  "we couldn't believe it!"  

They had done one, we had ran out of water about thirty miles ago and it was beginning to feel like a scene from Laurence of Arabia.  Determined to carry on we gave it our all, only to find the team waiting out on the road around the next corner, shouting encouragement to us. &£$^" !!

Like the end of a Pro race, Richard took my bike off me as I staggered across the road to the van. I downed a bottle of water, crawled in the van and tried to start some sort of recovery. I felt terrible, empty, hollow as if all my muscles were burning with the acid engulfing them. I gave it my all on that last mile and so did Gary, it was the best ride of my life.   I paid for it later, I felt awful..

I do hope that Paul, Richard and Mike will post a bit about their experiences today as it was the first time we split a little since the start. 

Day 6 - The ascent begins

"Maybe we're young and we don't know" - Cher 

5.45 at the van...its becoming an issue, its not healthy, I feel like Bill Murray waking every morning to the sound of Sonny and Cher's " I got you babe".

Still the Groundhog Day elements is over fairly quickly after short trip to our start point. The routine is getting slicker; bikes out, bottles filled with water, food eaten, as no breakfast at the hotel again. I am beginning to think breakfast on Sunday may be a messy affair.   

As we are standing next to the bus stop, Richard suddenly looks startled. He turns around and peers cautiously into the undergrowth warning people that he has just heard a noise and there is something in there! Is it a snake? a fox? the Ibex mountain goat that has recently returned to the Alps? an angry Rabbit seeking revenge for the unfortunate incident on day 2?

Steve however remains calm. Quietly eating his breakfast banana, laughing as Richard realises it was his banana skin being discarded into the bush he heard. There are frequent moments like this to make us laugh, and spirits are high as we set off.

"Run to the hills" - Iron Maiden

We set off in glorious sunshine, the weather gods in our favour again, as we began another climbing session. 

We stopped in a beautiful town with a river passing through the centre, it even had its own canoe course. The sun was beating down on us by now as we ate our croissants to restore the calories burnt already today. 

 
Had i known what was coming up, i would have put the go pro camera on the bike to save it. 

Up we went, the steepest climb of the morning, skirting the side of the mountain and grinning from ear to ear.   We reached our first set of alpine "S" bends, designed to take the gradient out of the hill but still like riding up the stairs in your house at points. 

The top took us to 100 miles so far for the day and after eating again and filling water bottles we donned our jackets for the 20 miles descent into Roanne.  

This was the best descent of the ride so far, fast sweeping bends on to long straights only stopping for pictures of the views.  It simply was amazing, the things you read about in cycling magazines. 

The sun beat down on us all day, but spirits were high, what a day. 

 

Day 5 - who dares wins

Up early again 5.45 am at the van. It's beginning to feel like being selected for the SAS selection tests. sleep deprivation, pressure points all day and scavenging for food at various cafes on the way.  I actually through this had been outlawed under the Geneva convention. 

Anyway bikes out the fun bus, suncream on, tyres pumped up and we are off. 

There were no big issues with this ride, until we noticed a white patch on Richards rear tyre. The distance of training and the ride so far has worn his tyre thin.  With the bus some miles away changing the tyre was not really an option.  

Richard asked Steve, “Any tips for blow outs”?, Steve’s replied “hold on tight don’t come off !!!!" Golden advice for cyclists of all ages. 

We then had some climbing to do up into a town with a church on a hill. The names all blend into one as for those who have travelled through France this description is application to most of the towns here.  

Panto 

The support vehicle was waiting so we stopped in a car park.  Richard required a toilet break so decided to press on ahead.  Unknown to him, he rode away to reveal two large letters on the wall "WC".  How we laughed.

We remounted to catch Richard and in the process Gary got into a race with a cyclist. It was a close thing but the guy wearing sandals, his bike laden with panniers, just had the edge. He wasn't going as far as we were. 

The downhill went on for ever and much like on a big hill, the group split as people ride at their natural speed.  Steve and Mike did a two man time trial reaching speeds of over 35 mph with the wind on their backs, which rounded off a non eventful day.  It has come to something that we now consider 116 miles is uneventful. 

In the distance we could see the shape of things to come; mountains. 

  

Day 4 - A New Dawn

Day 3 - Alternative endings 

There were two endings to day three. One with Barry leaving the team, heading to Paris to complete his cycle to work. The second is the rest of the team and how they finished.

It was with deep hearts, that we said goodbye to Barry, or "Red 1" as we know him. As we said our farewells and man hugs, there must have been a gust of wind, as everyone had issues with their eyes, and he was gone.

In the blazing sun over the River Seine, we were almost at the end of the route for that day at Maule. With plenty of time to spare, it was decided that we would take the sting out of day 4, by riding the first two climbs, which accounted for the first 10 miles. 

We crossed the main road into a disaster; our first puncture!   However, in an operation the McLaren F1 team would have been proud of , the slickness of the team and crew working in perfect harmony meant it was fixed in no time. 

Before we could get going three vehicles pulled up in quick secession asking for directions. We must by now look like the locals!  The occupants required directions but as they did not speak English.  With the expertise of the support crew, the vehicles left as quickly as they arrived.  Safe in the knowledge that the team was Welsh ("Pays de Galles") but no wiser as to how to get to their destination. 

Red 1 is gone, long live Red 1 

We continued to the end of day three route and then had to stop briefly to load the day four route in Gary's Garmin. With a new navigatior required to make sure more unnecessary hills will be climbed Gary was now Red 1. In the blistering heat we climbed 400 ft and continued towards the second climb, through quaint villages as we had the previous days, passing Chateau’s as we went.

Our final town Fortin, had a long climb up to it but the grand finale of classic cobbled streets was well worth it.  Barry would have loved it. 

We were collected by the support team and conveyed to our bed for the evening.

Day4 - A New Dawn. 

Another early alarm call 5.45, breakfast and in the van for six o’clock, to take us the point we finished on the day before.  A rare treat for Mike as we had stopped somewhere that served tea. 

Today was Monday, lots of traffic we thought, so we started early to avoid the rush hour and congestion on the edge of Paris. 

The customary bike checks completed and we were off.   Gary doing a fine job on the front, the traffic was light, no sign of the rush hour as we flew up the first incline of the day.  We were changing gear to go faster, not climb slower, the wind was on our back and we were flying. 

Looking up as the road climbed skywards we noted that at the top of each hill, a telecommunications tower appeared. As the day went on, these large man made structures continued on our route, so when we looked to start a climb we looked for the structures, it gave us a reference for the height of the climb we were about to undertake. 

We entered the village of Orphin, and in doing so going over cobbles Richard snapped a spoke on the rear wheel, a quick call to the support team and all was fixed within ten minutes. 

The Garmin route then took us down a track, which led into trees, possible on a mountain bike but not our road bikes. Suddenly we heard gunshots to our right, in the wood! 

As the team looked for cover, Steve shouted "Don't panic Captain Mannering" prompting lots of laughter and after a quick u turn we were soon back on the smooth tarmac. 

A long sweeping decent, led us out of the forest and into the Market Garden of France.  With large fields filled with wheat, barley , rape seed and then Steve spotted sweet peas in the pod. He jumped quickly off his bike and was picking the pea pods.  Munching on them like strawberries the team were quickly on the scene doing the same; foraging in France.

We pushed on, the road being so smooth we managed as a team over 20 mph across the open fields, much to the annoyance of Mike.
The towns and villages again were stunning, but quickly passed through.

It was soon time for dinner and to meet with the van however this was proving tricky. The Route programmed into the Garmin has been trying to send us down cycle paths only fit for horses or tractors, so detours were the order of the day.  The van is trying to follow the same route and was struggling more than us to go down some of the paths which resulted in the question of would we choose the same detour or not?  We must bring a 4x4 next time. 

Finally we met for lunch after 90 miles, and found a lovely looking cafe only to be told, they've stopped serving lunch. I've never seen so many teddies coming out of the pram. It was a scene that resembled a fork lift accident in Toys r us.  

Sensibg the rapid mood change and drop in the temperate, a short time later the waiter came out and said we could have pizza. Which was gratefully received and whilst we waited we rounded the Teddies up and reloaded the prams. 

The heat is on 
The sun was up now and really hot, suncream applied and back on it, and what a lovely ride it was.  Through forest roads again, trees for miles offering shelter from the sun and a scenic view. We were suffering by this point, so heads down and crunching the miles unit we finally stopped for the day and onto the hotel. 

Keen to sample some further local quisine after our kebabs on day three we found a lovely burger restaurant. 

Day 3 part 2. Barry to Paris

The last 40 miles – take 2

Continuing on my own journey was difficult.  The scenery in France had been so stunning that the temptation to keep riding with the group was massive and the sense of leaving a team I have been a part of is not something that ever sits well with me. Perhaps it helped therefore that there was no real time for long goodbyes and after shedding unnecessary kit into the van (the temperate was now in the mid 20s as opposed to low single digits I had started in) and checking I had the fundamental things with me like my passport and credit card I set off in an alternative direction.

Yet another stunning village

Fortunately for me, my colleague Allan Campbell had agreed to join me for the last forty miles into Paris and proved invaluable immediately by pointing out that the route I had planned on taking into Paris was actually the A13. The A13 is a main route highway which eventually becomes an N road equivalent to a British motorway.   At least I could have pleaded genuine ignorance but that may not have been much use to me by the time it became a real issue.  You live and learn.

Allan acting as a tour guide

Instead of dicing with death on a major arterial route, Allan planned a route along the Versailles ridge riding in the areas that he is used to riding in which proved to be far less frantic.  In fact it proved to be absolutely stunning and Allan’s company and commentary on the scenery were a very welcome distraction as the pain in my legs began to increase with every pedal stroke.  Particularly in my right knee that had started twinging about 5km before meeting up with Allan but was now becoming a dull ache as the effects of the weekend really began to take their toll.  I even got to see the tip of the Palais de Versailles which I now understand was built in a deliberately low area as the king had decreed that no other building was to be within sight.  I think that is called obeying the letter of the law if not the spirit but you have to applaud the ingenuity.

And so an admission, after a reasonable climb up onto the ridge which runs along the south west side of Paris, the pain in my knee was becoming a real nuisance.  For the first time since I started, I began to really wonder whether I could make it to the end and was beginning to feel quite relieved at traffic signals turning red where I could pour my water over the knee to try and provide some respite from the heat.  I took an energy sweet to try and stock up depleted reserves and found it had a surprising effect. 

I know professional cyclists often have a lot of caffeine in the final drinks bottle that they get…and that Geraint Thomas famously rode most of the Tour de France with a broken pelvis using Espresso coffee and a famous brand headache drug to dull the immense pain he must have been in but I had never known why.  As the lights turned green I pushed away, clipping into the pedals and trying to establish a smooth, relaxed pedal stroke to ease the pain in my knee.  Within a few minutes the pain had gone and we motored along the road into Paris at a great pace.  I even remember thinking maybe I had been pedaling awkwardly for some reason and I had corrected the problem but I was to find out later that was certainly not true.  The only logical explanation I can come up with is the caffeine in the energy sweet which is quite scary as I am a firm believer if you are in pain there is a reason and you should listen….just after I got to Paris.

Familiar friends

I saw a sign ahead of me that typically I would dread as a road user.  “Bus Lane” (the French to English translation is free of charge).

“Fantastic!” exclaimed Allan “we can use this!” and so we did through most of the town on the outskirts of Paris, the towns had nearly a full bus lane in that, being Sunday afternoon, was deserted as the volume of buses on the roads was reduced.  This really topped off the route as Allan and I could ride side by side and chat in relative safely as we approached one of the world’s major cities.  Even better, after having ridden along the ridge, the only way into Paris was downhill and down quite a serious hill at that and it was as we rolled down this hill an old friend came into sight.  

 

Le Tour Eiffel

Having worked in Paris for a fair amount of my career, I have quite a few photos of Gustav’s creation but this one is an instant favourite.  The end was in sight.  All we had to do now was navigate the streets of Paris itself which I didn’t know is only actually within the confines of  “Le Périphérique”.  Le Péripérique is the ring road that runs around Paris.  In a similar way to the M25 in London it bears resemblances to either a car park or scenes from the Wacky Races cartoons (ask your parents for most people) depending upon the time of day you hit it but here it was just ahead of me and I had never been more pleased to see it.  Normally, when I am on it I try to close my eyes and rely upon the taxi driver successfully delivering me to my destination. 

Setting the Champs Élysée as our destination on my bike computer, we carried on…5km left to go and I would achieve some ambitions in that distance which now was less than 1% of the entire weekends journey.

The first ambition was to ride on a cobbled road.  There are a number of bike races in the springtime in Northern France where we had ridden on where people take a sadistic pleasure in adding cobbles into the route.  Now, the first pass we had at these were actually relatively smooth but still under your grip the bike bounced and lurched a bit making contact with your palms in an irregular fashion which was just plain painful even before you even think about other contact points with a bicycle.

Whoever thought riding over cobbles was a good idea

The bus lanes continued to be our friend allowing us to make a steady reasonably traffic free progress into the finish and with around three km to go Allan asked me if I recognised the building ahead of us.  It took me  while to realise that we were approaching the Trocadéro where I had walked across almost daily in the summer of 2013 as our office was on the side I was currently riding and my hotel on the other side.  Approaching it from a different angle meant I just did not recognise it.   

The roundabout there is hectic with a mix of cars on a through route, buses dropping off tourists for a fantastic view of Le Tour’ Eiffel and the odd random cyclist wondering how exactly to get across what seems to be seven lanes of traffic but we navigated around onto Avenue Kleber and the Arc de Triomphe which sits at the top of the Champs Élysée as a tribute to war veterans was in view.

The Arc De Triomphe is in site

If I thought the Trocadéro roundabout was manic, navigating l’Etoille that surrounds the Arc de Triomphe was another experience altogether as the cars filtered around it like a swarm of bees around a honey pot.  I know there are rules for how people get around here but it is the epitome of organised chaos from my perspective.  Fortunately we only had two exits to get past and as you give way to all cars on your right (learning!) once the effects of the traffic lights 50 meters away took hold we could sprint towards our exit reasonably unhindered and there I was on the Champs Élysée… another ambition achieved.  

Made it

To ride the road that Le Tour finishes on every year and that I have made my long suffering family stand by for hours the last few summers to see the spectacle.  With the traffic lights, fatigue, lemming like pedestrians and emotion at having completed my personal challenge, Roy Jérémy's record on the downhill section of this road at around 42mph was never going to be in too much of a threat and so it proved as I came up just 41 mph short.

Just 41 mph slower than the Strava record..but I did stop for a drink or two

As I said above, being in a team is very important to me.  Having finished this ride over 500km away from home there were no family there to greet me or share in my enjoyment but the team I have worked in on and off for around 8 years were.  In addition to Allan who had ridden with me, Julie, Mickael and Gary had all made the journey on the Sunday afternoon to meet me and I know others wanted to but had plans that they quite rightly put first.  It all just reminded me how proud I am to be a part of this team.

Team mates

Mission accomplished

After a brief visit to the office to complete the actual mission of cycling to work, I rolled down the final 500 meters to the hotel where a very surprised receptionist had to deal with a person trying to check in with only their cycling kit.  She was a bit more relieved when I asked to retrieve my rucksack that I had stored there last week.

"I am through accepting limits, cos someone says they're so.  Somethings I cannot change. but till I try I'll never know" - Elpheba the witch - Wicked

If I wanted a final reminder of what I had done this for, as I was stopped in the small town of Magny en Vexin in Northern France, I heard that a good friend had received the all clear from cancer last week.   Until that point, I didn’t even know they had cancer.  

As I sat in my hotel room on the Sunday night a wave of exhaustion overtook me meaning that I struggled to find the motivation to go and eat despite knowing full well I had a lot of calories to replace.  The team I was part of is going on for another 600 miles, in less than six days and it wouldn’t be right if I didn’t thank all of them for letting me tag along on their excellent adventure and acknowledge just what a challenge they have taken on.  It is massive. 

I always knew that yesterday was pushing my limits in terms of endurance.  I expected I would not get much sleep on the Ferry and to then cycle nearly 120 miles was a daunting task.  As it turns out, with my knee being as sore as it is, maybe it was beyond my limits but I had to finish, the personal reasons that had influenced me to do this in the first place made not doing so impossible.  

The pain in my knee will fade in a few days time, the charities we are raising funds for assist people who have to go through far worse physical and, worse still, emotional pain on a daily basis for prolonged periods of time that make my aches fade to nothing in comparison.   

This team has raised just over £9,000 to try and help make changes.  That makes me immensely proud.  It is all about helping others in whatever way you can, and it turns out I can cycle to work in Paris. Just.

Until next time...