Marmotte 2011 - my ride

We arrived as part of a group of 20 in France the day before the ride. Our bikes had been driven down so we all jumped in a mini van at Lyon airport and set off for our hotel at the top of the Alpe. It was about a 2 hour drive and as we approached the foot of the Alpe the friendly banter gave way to an air of nervous anticipation. I'll never forget turning round that first hairpin and seeing the "wall" in front of me. It took a couple of seconds for everyone to compute what they were actually witnessing, and then in unison we all let out a collective groan knowing that we'd have to tackle this beast tomorrow with 100 miles and 3 cols already in our legs. In fact, the groans continued every time we went round a bend. TV just doesn't to it justice; the scale of the mountain is like nothing I've ever seen before, you have to see it to believe it. Thank god I'd been to Butlers the week before and invested in a 25 sprocket, I thought. It was gonna be one hell of a finale!

Race day: We rose at 5:30am, trudged down to breakfast and proceeded to force feed ourselves knowing that we'd need every last bit of fuel to get us over what lay ahead. Trouble was, neither Dave or I had any appetite; the nerves were already taking over! 45 mins later, and fully laden with 6 gels, 4 energy bars, a bag of energy powder, a tube of electrolite tablets and a box of salt tablets, not to mention tubes & tools, we rolled out of the car park and into a crisp dawn breaking across the mountain. The ride wasn't due to start for another hour and yet the day’s first challenge was just around the corner - descending Alpe D'huez to the start in Le Bourg D'Oisans! Hearing stories of exploding tyres on the way down some of the guys we were with bottled it and decided to get the van down, but Dave and I opted to ride. We figured that if we didn't make it up the mountain at the end, we could still tell people with a straight face that we'd "ridden" Alpe D'huez. But I’m glad we did; it was an almost surreal experience. Hundreds of shivering cyclists - some in bin bags - snaking down the mountain in near silence as dawn broke, punctuated by the squeal and smell of brakes and the odd violent bang as yup, tyres exploded!!! Not a great start for the 5 or so riders we passed at the side of the road.

We all made it down without incident and lined up in our allocated pen which happened to be in the first half of the 8000 strong field. 7:30am arrived and we were off! Given that this was our first Marmotte Dave and I had planned to just "ride it". My longest ride in training had been just 7 hours (across the flatlands to Rye as well) and I was pretty confident I wasn't going under that. After about 5 miles the first climb began - the Glandon. Now Harry called it "just a taster" in the pack he'd put together for us. Personally, I'd call it a full blown 5 course meal! - probably, in hindsight, because it came early, and I wasn't warmed up. But it seemed to go on forever and ever. Being the first climb of the day meant that everyone was still together - one big line of riders as far as the eye could see, grinding out their lowest gears in near total silence. Worryingly for both David and I we had resorted early on to our bail-out gears; 34x25 for me, and 39x29 for Dave. Alas though, we made it to the top in reasonable shape and immediately got our first taste of the many bun fights that were to come - the first feed stop! This was my only criticism of the entire organisation. Sure, they're restricted on space at the top of the climbs but it was pure chaos! 5 mins later, and with Bidons full again, we descended the other side. Due to numerous crashes over the years on the organisers have now neutralised this part of the course for timing. Everyone gets the same time - roughly 25 mins. But that didn't stop some riders coming a cropper! Dave and I saw 2 separate riders at the side of the narrow track who looked to be in a bad way. At the bottom of the decent it all came together again and we were sucked along in the Groupeto to the bottom of the Telegraph. This was my favourite climb of the day as I quickly got into a rhythm. I put 2 minutes into Dave on the climb but it didn't make much difference in the grand scale of things as we spent 15 minutes at the top filling our bottles! Given my time again I would have passed this stop and made the 7km decent to Valloire where there was another feed stop which was relatively calm.

Valloire marked the start of the Galibier - or as Harry called it "the beast". He wasn't wrong on this one. The climb snakes up 18km to an altitude of 2646m - it honestly felt and looked like we were on the moon at the top. This time I put 5 minutes into Dave who was by now regretting that he'd made the move to the flat-lands of Essex. The top of the Galibier also marked another feed station. By now I was getting sick and tired of sweet gels and bars so after a few mins of pushing and shoving and elbowing my way to the front of the feed I devoured a salami-filled baguette. Never has something so simple tasted so good! Keen to push on & stay warm I left Dave at the top of the Galibier and made my to the bottom of the Alpe alone. But before the Alpe came a 46km decent! Yes 46km!! I dropped like a stone early on and then managed to get on to the wheel of a Lee Staples/Paul Callaghan type bloke who powered down the lower slopes. The tunnels, of which there were many, were pure dangerous as most had no lights (neither did I) so it was just a case of follow the wheel in front and pray!

So came the final climb of the day - the Alpe itself! I stopped at the final feed at the bottom which was relatively quiet and had a quick stretch. The legs felt OK but I had no idea how I’d find it. I started cautiously and found it difficult to get into a rhythm because of the constant changes in gradient. About a quarter of the way up I saw a familiar face - Maurice Burton from DeVere Cycles who was riding with his youngest son. This spurred me on a bit but I soon dropped back to a 5-6mph pace which I managed to hold for most of the climb. I wouldn't say I suffered up the climb - not once did I ever feel that I’d have to climb off - but somewhere deep down I can feel it's left its mark. 100 yards from what I thought was the finish I decided to sprint for the line. For a split second I got a taste of what it might be like to ride the Tour as the crowds roared their approval, but I’d been duped! The banner across the top of what I thought was the finish was a banner for tourists doing the climb and wasn't the official finish for the Marmotte. That was up under the tunnel round to the left and through the middle of the town; the Alpe had got the last laugh.

My official time was 9 hours 19 mins (Silver) but my computer time revealed 8 hours 28 mins of riding time (Gold). Dave came across the line half hour later; the Alpe had got the better of him. As we sat down at the post race meal we both swore that we'd never do it again but by the evening we'd started to come round. By the next day we were already planning our return :)

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