Wed 24th September.
Many thanks for visiting my fundraising page and a huge thank you to those who have helped me to get this far with my sponsorship campaign.
Its 4.30 pm on Sunday 20th September 2009 and the enormity of what has just been accomplished is beginning to sink in and with it an overwhelming sense of emotion. In just 3 days, together with 60 other cyclists of varying ages and abilities, I have just cycled 190 miles and taken on 6 of the toughest Mountain Cols (passes), including three Hors and one Category 1 climb, the toughest categories on the Tour de France and in the process we have raised £150,000 for Macmillan Cancer Support.
I felt that for this week’s message, the following brief summary of my adventure would help one or two of you who may be struggling with your own challenges in business or in life generally.
To try and put this event into some kind of perspective, try sitting on an exercise bike in your local gym or at home, turn up the resistance to a level where you can barely turn the pedals above 4 miles per hour and cycle to the summit of Mount Everest. Without question this has been the most challenging undertaking I have ever experienced and the sense of overwhelming achievement of conquering the 21 hairpin bends to the summit of Alp d’Huez on the final day is almost impossible to convey.
Macmillan arrange many expeditions to raise funds for the incredible work they do in providing support for cancer victims and their families and this, their first ever Alps Cycle Challenge, is the most extreme event they offer and is definitely not for the faint hearted.
Here I have provided an account of just how tough the challenge was..
‘We are at the top of the Col du Télégraphe in the French Alps. It is one of the classic mountains used in the Tour de France and we have just cycled up it at a brisk pace. The climb to the 1,566 metre summit, has left my legs aching and my lungs burning as I meet up with the remainder of my group, who, with marginally more stamina than myself, had managed to reach the summit a few minutes ahead of me.
We are half way through a three-day organised bike ride to raise money for Macmillan Cancer Support. Our trip takes 50 cyclists over six legendary climbs that have witnessed countless battles and dramas in the sport of professional bike racing.
Today, we are engaged in our own personal battle – with ourselves. Welcome to fundraising by bike, the hard way.
Sponsored rides are in vogue. Charities are tapping into the boom in UK cycling, offering organised trips to cater for all abilities. Our own ride, the fabulously named “Legends of the Alps”, is set to raise more than £150,000 for Macmillan, so it isn’t difficult to see why charities are so keen on cycling.
Not everyone is impressed. Some hardcore cyclists turn their noses up at the idea of being packaged on a trip, where the food, drink and accommodation are sorted. It’s cycling for softies, they say.
In his recent blog for the Guardian, Matt Seaton, a self-certified cycling nut, dismissed charity rides. They are a “walk in the park”, he said. “Almost literally, you can't move for charity bike rides.” His point was why should anyone sponsor a cyclist to have a holiday doing what they love?
However, I would challenge even Mr Seaton, author of a cult book on amateur cycling, The Escape Artist, to describe our trip to the Alps as pootling.
The mountains that are used in the Tour de France are categorised by their severity: 4th category climbs are the “easiest” and 1st category are very tough. There is a further category of uber-climbs labeled Hors Catégorie, or “beyond categorisation”, which are the elite of the extreme mountains.
Our three-day trip took us over one 2nd category, two 1st and three HC climbs.
The first day included the 1,487 metre Col des Aravis that gave us a taste of Alpine climbing: the smooth French roads; the changeable climate; and the wooded foothills which thin out, teasing the rider with glimpses of dramatic vistas.
We then went onto the Col des Saisies. At 1,650 metres, this is a longer, more challenging climb that includes a sweeping descent south that reveals a stunning view of the snow-covered Mont Blanc.
On day two the serious business began. It opened with the longest climb of the trip, the 24.5 kilometre ascent of the Col de la Madeleine, a beautiful 1,993 metre mountain that requires the rider to find his rhythm and stick with it.
I ‘d be telling an untruth, if I didn’t own up to the fact that this particular climb saw me, more than once, stopping to rest my aching legs for a few seconds before grinding out another slow and laboring rhythm on those two pedals that at times were beginning to hypnotise me.
Often on each of these climbs I was left with my own thoughts, sometimes counting white lines on the road beneath my bike, other times having make believe conversations with my deceased mother-in-law, who had been looked after by Macmillan nurses, whilst my wife and I nursed her at home.
The day’s climbing ended on the Télégraphe, which, although relatively short in its ascent felt almost vertical at times but I quickly recovered on the descent into the ski-resort of Valloire, where we spent the night, ready for an early and immediate climb of the Galibier the next morning.
To day three, the big one – straight onto the foot of the most imposing and the highest climb of the trip – the Col du Galibier. The mountain, first used in Tour de France in 1911 and which includes a stone monument to the founder of the Tour, Henri Desgrange, has captured the imagination of the French.
They call it “the roof of the Tour” and the “the sacred monster”. A few kilometres into the climb it is clear why. It’s a rugged, exposed, foreboding beast of a col with snow-capped, saw-tooth peaks that bear down on the rider as he climbs through the mist into the mountain’s chilly microclimate.
Reaching the 2,646 metre summit of the Galibier is only half the story, on the other side is a long, technical descent south that pulls the rider down the mountain at over 65 kph through the cloud base in sub-zero temperatures.
It’s difficult to explain the sheer terror you feel as you hurtle downhill at such speeds, with little more than two small blocks of rubber on each brake to slow you, before another hairpin suddenly looms upon you and I was glad of the final lunch stop, now in warm sunshine in the valley below, to relieve my uncontrollable shivering.
Refuelled and warm again, we reached the most iconic mountain – Alpe d’Huez, made up of 21 hairpin bends each marked with a signpost that bears the name of a famous cyclist that has triumphed on the slopes.
It isn’t the longest, highest or steepest, and it certainly isn’t the most beautiful climb. But this 1,815 metre mountain-top finish is steeped in history and has shaped the results of more Tours than any other.
It’s where teammates Bernard Hinault and Greg LeMond staged an epic dual in 1986 before agreeing a truce, crossing the finish line arm-in-arm. It’s where Lance Armstrong famously duped rival Jan Ullrich into thinking he was suffering before giving him “the look” and sprinting off to seal the win and the 2001 edition of the Tour.
Being the final mountain of our trip, there was now no way I was not going to finish, even though my body had other ideas and when I finally reached the summit, sometime after many of the other riders, the elation soon gave way to tears of sheer emotion and exhaustion. I had done it and the good news was I could let my family know that their fears of my premature departure from this life, due to the extreme nature of this challenge, had fortunately not been realized.
There are many people I have to thank for making this trip possible and for their generous support.
If you, or someone you know has a question related in any way to dealing with cancer, Macmillan Cancer Support has just launched a new free hotline on 0808 808 00 00 or visit www.macmillan.org.uk anytime
Best wishes
Steve
