Col du Tourmalet

The Tourmalet is a must do for a cyclist who loves to climb.  At 2115 metres above sea level, it is the highest road pass in the Pyrenees and featured 87 times in the Tour de France. So it was one of the definite climbs on my list to do.  

Woke early to brilliant sunshine, cool still air.  I was nervous, difficult to eat the beautiful breakfast spread. I have had this feeling before, so just took my time and managed to drink 2 cups of coffee, juice, beautiful porridge, croissant and a cup of tea. I toasted two pieces of wonderful fresh French bread with butter and apricot jam, grabbed a banana, all for ron....

We left The Pyrénées Cycling Lodge with cheers and 'go get em' from Mark and Niamh and headed down the hill, then started the long gradual climb, along beautiful fast flowing rivers, under open sided tunnels, to the bustling town of Luz-Saint  Sauveur, where the climb starts proper.

There was quite a steady stream of riders making the same journey as us, some I passed (that always makes me feel good) and getting passed by others.  I notice all men.  With an average grade of 7.5% for just under 20km, we keep our pace steady.  It's warm today, feels like summer is well and truely on its way.

I have to undo my centre front jersey zipper, check that the rolls of skin and muffin top are hidden behind my bib Knicks and continue on, keeping my heart rate steady in the mid 130's range.  Kilometre markers tell me I'm in the 8.5 or 9% grades but I feel ok.

The roads are fairy straight, few switchbacks but it's what looms above that scares the shit out of you.  

Not pretty, but a great mother of a mountain that fills the sky before you, with ragged cliffs and steep vertical drops, surely we are not going up there (I say to myself).  I decide not to look up, but focus on the beautiful countryside around me, rushing water everywhere, birds of prey souring above, sing the alphabet even, anything to tune out.  We are well above the treeline now, pass a ski resort open for mountain biking, hear distant cow bells and see the stock trails criss crossing across the steep hillsides

I don't stop much but keep going and happy that I have passed the 5km to go mark.  'Wow I'm actually going to do this' I think.  'Now wait a minute, don't get cocky' I remind myself. It's now very hot, sweat is dropping onto my knees from my chin, I can feel drips trickling down my back, I must be loosing a lot of water and take a few swigs in the hope that I am replacing the sweat.  I nibble on a bar but strangely don't feel like eating. Switchbacks are now coming thick and fast, I look up in awe at what's above me, (strain the stiff neck) then down the valley road behind me, smile at myself, wow, I'm doing this.

This climb is steady all the way, 8 or 9% but it's the last two kilometres that really hit hard, 10% and above, just when your legs are done, it feels cruel.  The air feels thinner too and I struggle to fill my lungs. I try and calm myself and I breathe in hard, to try expand them.  I think, 'shit I should've had my puffer this morning'. I am struggling and start to gulp at the air and as I am out of the saddle, pushing to get over the last pinch, see lots of riders ahead at the top, the road below me is painted with Tour de France colours and famous riders names, don't ask me who they were, its all blurry now, and there's Dave, with the camera out.  I fake a smile, like it was fun.

By the time I stop at the Col du Tourmalet sign, I am seeing black spots, feel dizzy and struggling to calm my breathing.  It takes a few minutes, Dave comes along all happy and excited, and I ask him politely to give me a minute.  I hang onto the rock wall while I try to steady myself, then get off the bike and gingerly walk to a chair, where I put my head between my knees and control my breathing.  Riders ask if I'm OK, 

I nod and the dizzyness passes after a few minutes. I quickly get dressed so I don't get chilly. 

Then I'm ready for photo's.

I am verrrrrry happy.  Never thought I would be able to ride this climb.  Dave tells me to look around at the cyclists milling around the finish.  I do, not sure what he is trying to tell me.  'What is it?' I say.  "They're all men"  Apart from two young girls in their early 20's, it's me, amongst about 50 male cyclists. That makes me pretty chuffed with myself.

Wind has picked up, buffeting around the summit so we don't hang around.  Down the steep bits gingerly, around the few tight switchbacks, then onto the fairly straight roads, back to town, past beautiful big white cows lazing in the sunshine. Its a fast, long descent, not technical and you realise, wow, that was a long steady climb. 

I sing 'Happy birthday to me, happy birthday to me' on the way down.  I did it, best birthday present ever.