Etape 2010 Report - Start to Marie-Blanque Summit

This is the first post in a 3-part series (second post, third post)

Unusually for me I was up like a shot when the alarm went off at 4:30am. A huge bowl of Alpen, a quick shower and change and we headed into the dark to make the journey to Pau. On arrival, we saw lots of riders on the outskirts of the town and we decided that it was best for Em to drop me here so I could ride to the start with the others. It was the blind leading the blind as we tried to find the only designated route to our start pens. Eventually I found the right route and made it to my pen albeit not until 6:30am. This was later than I'd hoped and meant that I was quite far to the back with closer to 7000 rather than 4000 riders in front of me. It was quite a nervy atmosphere, there were several attempts at conversation but mostly people were quiet, contemplating the day ahead (and probably wondering if the people next to them spoke the same language!).

Eventually there was movement ahead and to a chorus of pedal clip sounds we were off. The pent up energy and enthusiasm had clearly got the better of some as they sprinted away taking crazy risks in the process. A woman came from behind and plunged into an impossible gap, locking bars with riders on both sides. I've no idea how everyone managed to stay upright. Thankfully things began to settle down and I tried to settle into a rhythm.

I had a number of quotes rolling around my head that I'd read or heard on the lead up to the event:

"You should get to the Marie-Blanque, having done basically nothing", CycleFilm Recon DVD

"On the climbs back off to what feels like a manageable pace and then dial it back another 5%", BikeRadar Forum

My plan therefore was to ride within myself and take it steady - I didn't want to blow up early and ruin the ride. I was forced to take it a little steadier than I'd wanted however through some of the early villages as bottlenecks forced the peloton to slow down and in one case stop. Perhaps not a bad thing, I thought to myself.

The ride profile is dominated by the big mountains and therefore it's easy to dismiss the rest as flat. I was struck early on how this wasn't the case at all. There were plenty of rolling hills to contend with and a category 4 climb, which would be notable on a typical UK ride. I noticed riders breathing heavily on this one and wondered how they could possibly hope to finish if they were already in the red. I learnt afterwards than nearly a third of riders didn't finish so I guess there's the answer!

My knee injury had been a major concern in the lead up to the event and before even reaching the foot of the Marie-Blanque it had become tender. This was a real worry as all the work was yet to come. I was excited to reach the climb though and put these worries out of my mind. "Here's where the fun begins - this is what it's all about".

I settled into a good rhythm on the climb and was feeling good. All the climbs in France have signs marking each Km with a few statistics: distance to summit, altitude, gradient of the next Km. I was ticking these off nicely looking forward to the steep last few Km and summiting my first col. However, the further I went up the mountain the narrower and more crowded the road got. Some riders had dismounted and were pushing on the right, ambulances and mechanics were pushing up the left and I had all on to avoid contact with other wheels and to stay upright at 4mph! "Get that fucking car off the road", came the increasingly infuriated shouts from behind. Eventually, the ride came to a dead stop as the road ahead became a sea of riders pushing their bikes. It was incredibly disappointing to have to dismount. I felt robbed. I'd come all this way to climb mountains like this and enjoy the scenery and instead I felt like I'd found the cycling equivalent of a busy M25 in London. We pushed for over 2Km until finally being able to mount again to finish the final few hundred metres.



The feed station was just over the summit and was packed with equally frustrated riders and all social niceties had disappeared. If getting here felt like a busy M25, this felt like I'd reached the shops on the first day of the sales. "A victim of its own success?", "Wouldn't it be better to just come and cycle the cols with your own group?" were some of the thoughts going through my mind.

On top of this the delays here and getting over the start line meant I only had 25 minutes on the broom wagon. One mechanical and the ride would likely be over for me. Needless to say my impressions of the Etape weren't great at this point. However, I then left the feed station and started the descent proper with an amazing panoramic view of the Pyrenees ahead. My frustrations were soon forgotten and I got on with enjoying the ride....