Tour des Deux Sevres

Wow! What a busy couple of weeks. I returned to France last Monday night and being a man, I began packing on Monday afternoon, one hour and seventeen minutes before I had to leave for the ferry. Amazingly I didn't forget anything too major. Just passport, helmet, shoes, bike... Jokes! The night ferry was as fantastic a life experience as ever and I disembarked on Tuesday morning having racked up a solid zero minutes of sleep. Still, France was sunny and fresh and all new to me again.

Ferries: don't forget your pillow!

Onwards to Wednesday and I was on the road again, returning for a second year to the Tour des Deux Sevres. Last year I was 3rd overall so I was looking forward to it, although having been 'en vacance' in England for a while it was going to be a bit of a form tester as my first race back.

After the team presentation on Wednesday night, where you basically get kitted up and get on stage in front of some wrinkleys for five minutes, the race proper kicked off on Thursday lunchtime with a solid 165km. It was hot and little did I know it was going to get hotter! After a pretty mental four hours it all but came down to a gallop. Two blokes escaped just off the front by six and three seconds respectively. I did a fair bit of suffering to hang in the front quarter for the whole day; energy wasted unfortunately.

The time trial was the next morning and I was hoping the legs would return as the tour went on. As it was, they were coming back but I wasn't exactly comfortable in the TT and after nearly stacking it on the final corner I came in 3rd, eight seconds back. I was disappointed but kept reminding myself that I had been off the bike with illness not long ago. Anyway, the afternoon stage was only 88km and so sure to be fast and furious, you would have thought. Well it wasn't at the start! We pootled around with various nutters trying to clip off unsuccessfully early doors and in the end it came down to the inevitable bunch sprint, despite my best attempts at slithering off in the final few kilometres. The circuit had several technical bits but also some nice smooth, wide roads perfect for a big ol' gallop. Naturally the finish line was 50 metres after the most dangerous set of corners. I kept the bike rubber-down and myself out of the ambulance so... Successful day!

Best 2nd category rider = podium time.

Day three and 110km in I thought I'd try and win the cycling race. At this point I was 3rd on GC, a mere eight seconds back. I countered an attack over a climb, Sam was with me and we forged a group of 15 or so guys. We got 40 seconds and I was yellow jersey on the road but we got shut down by Nantes Atlantique, the strongest team in the race. We tried. Hard. When we got to the finishing circuits, having been away for about 15km going full whack I wasn't feeling so splendid any more. A small group ground off the front nearing the final and I couldn't make my legs work to get me there. I lost nine places on general classification very quickly, down to 12th overall. Gutttttttteddd.

Worse smile everrrrr as I slip down the GC.

Nothing to lose in the final stage then. I was only 29 seconds down, but with riders from two strong teams ahead of me it wasn't going to be a doddle. My plan was to sit tight all day, clip off at the end and use others to win the stage and maybe move up on general too. Easy peasy. The problem is: cycling is never easy. If it's easy, you're not doing it right! There was a humoungous crosswind section after about 5km and, obviously, we didn't get told about this. Cue: massive shredding of the peloton. I was in the second group and thinking that was race over I broke my own personal racing mantra of 'Never Panic'. I panicked. I tried to ride across a 30 second gap, to a group of 35, with one other guy. Cyclists will understand what this situation means well. It means you've lost your mind! To any normal people imagine the pain of shutting your finger in a door. Then imagine doing this to the beat of a song, or the beat of your pounding heart, repeatedly squashing those digits. Left crack, right crack, left crack.... Foolish! We didn't make it and then, and THEN, it came back together later anyway. Oh man, I was happy about that. I toasted my legs and then we all got toasted later by mother nature. It was 37 degrees and there was a hot wind; people were bombing out left and right. Again a small group escaped annoyingly late in the stage, about 4km from the finish but I couldn't get there. 

I suppose cycling has a few perks.

I finished the tour 10th overall, which isn't bad and I got plenty of podium time for being first 2nd category rider which is all good fun. My tan is looking sick and the form is returning, which makes me happy.

The final podium.

le Fleche d'Armor

This weekend was a really successful one for me: my first stage race win! It was in Fleche d’Armor, a 1/2/3 category race in the Cote D’Armor region on the north coast of Brittany. The scenery was very beautiful (I spent a fair amount of time enjoying it whilst sitting in the bunch all day on Stage 1) and despite warnings from my slightly crazed housemate the weather was good!

Stage one was 130km, rolling all day with a pan flat finishing circuit with about three corners, all very straightforward. A break went away early on as expected with my teammate Sam Allen in it, so I had the perfect reason to sit in all day and try and relax. The bunch was pretty nervous all day with lots of fresh legs and I actually felt pretty poor, but as we entered the finishing laps my legs suddenly came to life. The break’s advantage was dwindling rapidly; it split with Sam having some bad luck and getting on the wrong side, as three riders continued to push on. At this point it was around 8km to go, so I counter attacked, hoping to sly my way up to the three in front and perhaps gain some seconds on general classification or even have a shout at the stage win. It wasn’t to be, as everyone seemed very content to follow me yet rather unable to do any work. I tried a few times but they were fruitless efforts and in the end Fabrice Seigneur, a rider who last week won an Elite National race unsurprisingly won the break sprint three seconds ahead of the bunch. After a brief episode post-stage involving a broken down team van, a lack of clothing, food or drink we got to bed as early as possible on Saturday night.

Sam 'the bigdawg' Allen en route in the break on Stage 1

Sunday morning was a very fast 7.5km time trial with a climb of about 1% and minimal corners: it was right up my street! I did my best effort and headed back to the headquarters for a shower and some food. As I was just getting into the shower I got a knock from Sam who said something along the lines of “Mate! You ______ smashed it!!!” I chucked my clothes back on and turned up to the podium fashionably (painfully) late. I was leading the tour now by eight seconds.

You know the expression "keeping it under your hat"? Well I took that to another level this stage with an interesting mitt storage solution. Yes that's correct, my gloves are in my helmet here.

The afternoon stage was 120km and according to the DS had some tough climbs in. The first half was quite sedate with some crosswinds, but it was child’s-play compared to the Belgian gusts last year so I quite enjoyed it really. The second climb of the day was around 90km in (I think: my wheel had no magnet and the course info sellotaped on my stem was a little misleading!) One of the riders high up on GC attacked as I was getting a bottle, which was nice of him, and a few others clipped off with him so I put the hammer down over the top and got across. This group had myself and most of the favourites in, so it was guaranteed to stick, and get a bit tough near the finish. Various riders attacked me at this point and to try and take the initiative I clipped off myself to make them chase. This backfired rather horribly when we rounded a corner and hit a 20%+ climb: for me the stuff of nightmares! The guy second on GC attacked, I couldn’t go with it and the group shredded.  A group of five formed up front, then three behind them, then there I was, hacking along on the front to bring them all back. Luckily I had some help from 'Sammoth the Mammoth' who had somehow bridged across to us and we pretty much went full gas for 8km or so.

One of the few photos I can find online (disappointed!)

I bridged the gap as we entered the finishing circuit with 12km to go and then of course someone else attacked me. Four or five riders went up the road and we worked to keep them within 20-30 seconds as I waited and waited for the guy second on GC to attack me again. He did so at 2km to go (Sam shouted “Doug!”) and I put out more or less my maximum power to follow him. He was pretty strong. I clawed him back and then had to get on the front to keep closing the gap to the guys in front and inadvertently lead out the sprint. Two guys jumped me at 150m to go but I managed to more or less hold onto them to finish 6^th in the stage and just save the tour, by 5 seconds!

Of all the photos they took and I'm blinking in this one.

I was a little sore yesterday (Monday)! I've got an Elite National RR tomorrow up near Saint-Brieuc so I'm planning to try and roll around for a top 100 finish, get some tanning in and NOT do anything stupid. I hope it's sunny. Peace out.

Vlaams Brabant

We had a great team race at Vlaams Brabant last week. We finished the race having very convincingly won the climber’s jersey with Bjorn, the best Brabant rider and second place overall with Sibi and 3^rd, 4^th, and 8^th  on various stages.

Being a newly self proclaimed GC rider I sat in well on day one until the final 6km when I put in a do or die attack when I thought I was in with a shout of a stage win. It was too far out though and the sprinters caught me and my breakaway companion on the long wide road to the finish. Stage two was another scorching hot day and after being in a break for some of the day I suffered in the sun, cracked a bit at the end and lost 1:04  as the race shredded. This proved to be annoyingly decisive as I finished on Sunday 1:11 down on GC on Sunday.

Stage three was a flat, 9.4km time trial which was right up my street. I did everything right, felt like a TANK, thought I was going to win it easy peasy, but sadly finished 8 seconds down on the winner in 4^th place. On stage four I attacked down a cobbled descent after 25km, thinking that I could be first to the sprint line, win 10 euros and maybe be in with a shout at getting up there on the Sprinter’s jersey. I went much too early though! 4km later I was still off the front alone, wondering where the line was, so I decided to wait for the little group forming behind. We combined to make a group of 5 riders and worked well together up to the finish when I led the sprint out to take the points, much to the other rider’s disgust. We were joined a few kilometres later by another 10 riders (including the leader of the Sprinter’s competition with 3 teammates!) so that was my hopes for a jersey over with. We worked well together as a group but it was another sprinter’s stage and we were swept up by a breakneck speed peloton at 9km to go.

The final stage was another one destined for a bunch sprint, despite plenty of valiant efforts; particularly a team split when we had the ENTIRE TEAM in the break of 10! We went pretty deep to try and get us all to move up on GC, but it wasn’t to be and we were chased down by three or four teams back in the bunch. It was a futile effort, but the team bosses loved the spirit of it, and were raving about it for the rest of the day. It’s pretty special to get the entire team in a breakaway, particularly on a flat sprinters stage and it’s a nice memory to have from the race.

France: parts one and two

The last few weeks have been quite labour intensive on the bike: a labour of love of course! We’ve been back and forth to France four times which has meant I’ve seen the inside of a lot of different hotels and spent copious amounts of time counting the hairs on the back of my hands in the car. I even read a book.

Standard car activities: phone subwoofer and crisp & salami sandwiches.

First up was a one day called the GP Beauchamp where we fairly successfully cleaned up: we got four riders in the break of twenty, dropped some strong riders in the crosswinds and then claimed 1^st, 3^rd, 10^th and 11^th.

"This is the best echelon ever!"

Then after two days respite, casually spent driving the width of France and back, we returned to frog territory for the Tour de la Manche. My personal recollections of this race are few and far between (consigned safely into my black box of past torments, to be unlocked no doubt through extensive therapy in future years). It was quite hilly (ha!) but I was holding out for the time trial on day three which, unsurprisingly, turned out to include an ascent or two. Being a filthy tester I put massive amounts of pressure on myself (all bottled up, obviously) to perform despite it not suiting me, and conveniently ignoring the fact that my current form was worryingly errant. I took myself apart and, despite being most probably the slowest up every one of the three climbs, managed a respectable 12^th. I was moderately pissed off, but at least my white skinsuit looked snazzy. I finished the final stage and headed home for some Nutella based healing.

Another weekend in France

I spent another long weekend racing in France and actually enjoyed some good weather this time! I’ve definitely gone a nice shade of Umpa Lumpa from the bicep down which is nice. I managed to pick up a stomach bug or something for the first few days of the tour so that made things considerably less enjoyable. I got in the break on day one but was feeling sick as a dog and ultimately I went out the back door on a little climb, before actually being sick. I got caught by the group behind and clung on to them before realising 30km from the finish that my pedal had completely seized up and the team car was ahead so it couldn’t help me. I stuck it out in the group until the end, when I was on the wheel of an attacker who I followed off the front. Unfortunately there was a dodgy corner 3k from the end and drifting out too wide I had to hop over a ditch and ride down a grass verge to avoid wiping out. I got back on the road, chased for the final section and finished just off the back of the group. It was a pretty poor race all round for me.

Day two involved most of our team getting caught out at the back in the crosswinds when our rival team smacked it at kilometre seven (so bloody early) and having to drag our hinds back to the business end of the race. It was a full blown suffer fest which my dodgy stomach did not really enjoy. It was nice and sunny though so I worked on some great tan lines.

Teeeeeam camp!

Day three was a double day – the Frenchies favourite! It was breakfast at 6am, stage at 9am, lunch at 12 noon, race at 3:30pm. Unbelievably I felt amazing! I got in an early break with two teammates and drove it to try and take the yellow jersey for Llewellyn, and we got a minute on the bunch, but the Frenchies behind eventually got their act together and pulled us back. I did lead-out duties at the end for Kinch and he got a strong 3^rd place. 

The afternoon was a crit of about 80km and Gus got in an early break (which ended up staying away) so we had no obligation to work. He did a great job, getting 2nd on the stage, but unfortunately our idea of putting time into Kinch’s rivals for GC went wrong when he lost my wheel in the choppy run in to the line.

Sweet tree-house or what?!

I learnt a few things at the weekend: even when you think the race is over because you’re off the back after 25km, it’s probably not. Long journeys are great for reading books: I’ve read 288 pages in two car journeys and I’m pretty slow (at reading). Make sure you tighten all your bolts because when your bottle cage falls off at 55kph it’s a bit unnerving. Speedplay pedals are crap! (I’ve broken three pedals in about three weeks). Racing in the sun is a LOT more fun than racing in the rain.

Yaaaaay, we finished!

Off to France again for Franche Comte in two days!

Le Tour de la Manche

It was a successful weekend for the team in France! I’d like to say at this point that I played a ‘team role’ which roughly translates as – I didn’t have the legs to do anything good so tried to help the bigger boys.

Beach break! We never actually went though: it was too far to walk.

The first stage was quite twitchy and nervous and there was a big ol’ tumble 35km in that took down a lot of the bunch, including me. I snapped my forks in half and my front wheel folded itself nicely around the guy who was lying down in front of me. I was pretty unscathed though; I just took most of it on my head, so no harm done. I chased back on, but then the race was neutralised anyway as 80% of the field were off the back. Then it was game on again.

Well at least I didn't puncture.

Bjorn convincingly won the stage in the end, after infiltrating the break of the day and climbing like an absolute demon. This meant we were holding the yellow jersey! Llewellyn was also up there the whole day but Lady Luck had other ideas, and he came back to the bunch after getting the slowest wheel change since cycling was invented. I got in a counter attack near the end but went so deep up the climb that I was on my knees, and then we got caught anyway. Classic!

Dream team.

Day one had been sunny and rather pleasant, but from then on it was a much damper event. It rained every day. Llewellyn was in great form and was in the break on day two as well, claiming a strong third place after a gritty stage.  

Enjoying the view from our 'balcony'

The morning of day three was the time trial and I was hoping for a decent result to pick up my spirits and justify the team’s confidence in my abilities. We drove the course beforehand and it turned out to be three hills in a row with some descents in between: not in my favour really. I bashed out a twelfth place though which in hindsight is quite good, but at the time I was disappointed. Mostly I was just confused as to how the winner took a whole minute out of me. Animal.

The second stage of the day was fast and furious and Llewellyn was again in the action, in the break, up the road, and first over the line - awesome win. At this point he was sitting second on General Classification so on the final day we had some work to do, dragging breaks back and generally trying to help him out. I did my job for the first 90km or so but once we got to the finishing circuits, which turned out to be hilly and seriously sketchy in places, I was toast. I clung on until 11km to go and then rode to the finish alone. Kinch lost a second on the line and so slipped to third place on GC but it was a strong performance, and a big bonus on top of the stage performances.

Sufferfest 2012: final stage, finishing climb, three laps to go.

We’re back to France on Thursday for le Tour de Loiret which should be a bit less hilly but no less aggressive or dangerous. You can always rely on the French for that! Bonne Journée.