24 Hours With Gordo
We hop out of the van and he gets the jack out. I start to jack the van up and he tries to get the spare tire out. Once I get the car up, I look around for the spare. He is having a little bit of trouble so I help him release it from under the van. We take the tire around the van and it starts to rain lightly. I am still doing pretty well. Calm, working through the situation. The driver gets the tire iron out and starts trying to remove the wheel bolts. Seeing he is tightening rather than loosening them, I take over and get the bolts off. We try to pull the wheel off and nothing happens. Turns out that there is a small lock bolt on the wheel. The driver can't find the key for this bolt and now I start to get a little frazzled. I ask him to call me another car. He makes a telephone call and speaks Chinese for a while. The guy on the other end of the line must have told him where the bolt key was because all of a sudden he appears with it and the wheel is off. New wheel on, flat into the van and we are off. I now have one minute to go 6K and check in for the flight. It's not looking good but I am not sweating it because there is not much I can do to change my situation. The South of France is calling but maybe not until tomorrow. Arrive at the airport, give the driver a good tip - he was out to lunch but he was trying hard and friendly. Roll into an empty airport with only one desk open. Two nice things about arriving late - #1: you have five people to check you in, and #2: they are in such a rush they do not weight your luggage. Bike goes on, monster bag goes on but wait..... my ticket is issued for another airline. Oh no! After we all have a good panic, they punch me into the computer and see that everything is OK. Resume normal breathing. Obviously, no time to hang around. Straight to the gate (with a short stop at the gents to wash tire grease off my hands and arms) and on to the plane. Walking down the ramp, I am whistling to myself. Safely on the plane, with little fuzzy socks on my feet, I start to laugh. It may have been close but I made it. A little test to see if I can stay calm under pressure. I give myself a nine out of 10. Take off, blanket on, ear plugs in, eye shades down... Nine hours later I wake up. I am stoked as it is the most I have ever slept in one go on a plane. Here is my secret to a restful flight. If you have a late evening flight then #1: wake up at 4:00 a.m. the morning of your flight, #2: get 2-3 hours of hard cycling in before you go to the office (be sure to include hills as well as a little adverse weather), #3 work a full day at the office, #4: save packing until the last minute, #5: do something physical (like change a tire) before you get on the plane. Next to my taxi catching fire on the way to the San Francisco airport (I'll tell you at Vineman if you ask me), this is now my best getting to the plane story. For the rest of the flight, I alternate between reading and writing. I also munch my way through my fresh fruit stash. This is something I only started to do recently. Airplane food is not the greatest and is normally full of things that I'd rather not eat. So, I bring a big bag of fruit with me on the flight. Yum. Now we are at T+14 hours and I have landed at London Heathrow. Make my way to the lounge, sign up for a shower and see what is on offer in the food department. Did you know that the BA Lounge has draft Guinness cans? Probably the only lounge in the world. As a point of general principle, I grab a can and a few pretzels. Sure it is only 6:15 a.m. in London, but it is lunch time in Hong Kong and I feel like having a Guinness for lunch. Looking around the lounge I am not the only one partaking. However, I am the only one wearing shorts and sandals as well. I guess I am the only guy transiting from Asia to the South of France. My Guinness is gone far too quickly - they have the slightly smaller cans in the lounge. I head over and pull all my e-mail down from the net. A few messages from the TNO tri-hotties (you ladies made my morning) await, as well as one from the Craigmeister. There is a stack of business related stuff but I stick with replying to the TNO stuff first. Kind of like eating dessert before your main course but I am on quasi-vacation so why not. Time flies and I realise that I had better head over to the shower area if I am going to get cleaned up before my flight to Nice. T+17 hours and I am on my way to France. More reading and writing on the plane. The further we get from England the thinner the cloud cover gets. Soon, there are no clouds and then we are on the ground. Nice Cote D'Azur! Sunny, low humidity and perfectly warm. I check my watch 12:30 p.m. local time, my dinner is at 7:15 p.m. I run the numbers, look at my bike case and smile because I know that I am going long. T+20 hours and I am in my room assembling my bike. Everybody thinks that it is a real novelty that someone would bring a bike all the way from Asia just to ride in France. Well, I have been here before and know what to expect. Soon, I am up out of town. All I have is a small sheet of paper, it shows the main autoroutes and a few towns. I know where I am trying to get to (Gourdon) and manage to make it on to a route that I rode about three years ago. Climbing up out of Cannes there is no shade, lots of traffic and a hot sun. I am soaked and wondering how long I will last. The moments of doubt don't last long as I get myself on to a side road. There is shade as well as a cool breeze from my awesome pace (not really but I was feeling better). Now the fun begins, climb, climb, climb. Very small climbs at first, mainly small rollers. I get to Opio and the real fun begins. I am in my 39-23 and really grinding it out. I stay in the saddle but only just. What happened to my legs? Where did all my power go? Later I would see the sign at the top warning people heading down that it is a 15% grade. Of course, that was later. Soon, the hill off and I am climbing normally again. Climb, climb, climb - the climb is fantastic. There are cliff faces to my left and we are slowing traversing upwards. To my right is a steep drop and beyond the gorge I can see the towns below as well as the coast and the sea. It is a bright day but there are thin clouds above me keeping the temperature down. Lots of trees and bushes are flowering and I can smell the flowers. This region of France has a big perfume industry and perhaps it grew out of all the local flowers. While still heading up, the grade backs off considerably and I am able to start pushing a more respectable gear. The Ks click down to Gourdon and I notice that there are some very dark clouds above the taller peaks. I figure that I will worry about them when I have to and keep rolling. Soon I am at Gourdon. It is a Chateau and small village that sits at the head of the valley. You can see all the way to Nice as well as Cannes from the lookout and I decide to stop and eat a powerbar while enjoying the view. I am riding quite well today and while my HR seems right for the speed I am going, it feels effortless (no doubt due to the fact that I am not dying in HK-style heat!). Back on the bike and I notice that I have two choices at Gourdon, down or up. No prizes for guessing my next move... Climb, climb, climb. This road is even less used and it is a beautiful ride. Now I am traversing the other direction so the hills are on my right and the valley/sea is on my left. There aren't many trees here and I tell myself that I have cycled above the tree-line (actually it is more likely due to the rocky soil). After about 10K I am at a sign marking a col (1140 meters - Col De l'Ecre ?), not 100% sure on the name. I think about turning around but figure that I might as well keep going as the sun is out and the nasty clouds are heading away from where I am. A short descent and I am in alpine fields. The sun is shining off the golden grass, butterflies are cruising around and I can hear the occasional bird. One car every 10-15 minutes only. In short, I have achieved roadie nirvana. Open roads, the sun on my back, no destination and plenty of time to get there. I keep riding and soon find myself on a monster descent into a town. Switchbacks and a little gravel on the road keep me honest. I recently changed my rear cassette to an 11-23 from a 12-23 and the extra gear is quite useful in this terrain. Cruise through the town, stop for a quick Coke and Ice Tea at a roadside stand and then another short climb to a col (750 meters or so). I realise that I have not dropped very much from the first col and am soon rewarded with a wide, high speed drop on a highway. Pass a couple of cars and am really hauling. My HR is the same level as when I was climbing and I am pushing the 53-11 for all it is worth. A short climb sees the cars blow by me and soon I am in Grasse. Another drinks stop to refill my water bottles and I find myself back in Chateauneuf. This is the town where the climb to Gourdon starts, I look at my watch, say why not, and head back up for round two. I am properly warmed up this time and it while it certainly feels a bit tougher, I am able to ride a little quicker now that I have a better idea on the grades and the places where I can recover. See a few fellow riders (am I the only cyclist in the South of France who wears a helmet?). The older guys all wave, the younger guys tend to ignore me. Clearly my DeSoto tri shorts and sleeveless top have me marked as a tri-poseur. That said, it was one way traffic and none of these boys pass me (although I did see one guy who looked extremely fast heading up when I was going down). Before too long I am back at the Chateau, no break this time and no further climbing. I head straight and down towards the Wolf's Throat. I'd give you the French version but I can't spell it. This part of the ride is way cool as there are markings from a cycle race on the road. I see several Virenques (sp?) on the road and get a kick from riding the same hills as the top guys. No history like that in Hong Kong! Soon I am in the valley, screaming downhill, passing a few cars and really leaning through the turns. There are tunnels that I shoot through - bright sun, total darkness, bright sun - pray that no one is coming through on the wrong side of the road. Fantastic riding, very fast. Soon I am at the turnoff for Vence - I decide to save that for Sunday and head back to Cannes. I get seriously lost on the way back to Cannes. I am within 5K but make a wrong turn and find myself on the Autoroute. Headlines flash through my head - Dumb Canadian Run Over By Pissed Off French Truck Driver. I get out of there in a hurry. Using the sun to navigate (yes it was that bad). I head South, figuring that once I hit the water I can just follow it back to Cannes. Luckily, I pick up a main road and soon find myself in Cannes. It is the wrong side of Cannes but at least it is Cannes. I do the math and see that I might be able to squeeze in my run. Back to the hotel, shoes on, hat on - I hit the boardwalk. What a pleasant surprise! A nice wide boardwalk, plenty of room to run. It is quite hot but my hydration is good. My legs feel great, a little too great and my HRM tells me to back off a little. After a little cruising, I am back at the hotel. Stretch shower and off to dinner. This place rocks. gordo |