Buying coke Montgenevre

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Buying coke Montgenevre

My TCR was dominated by sciatica pain. Because I was mostly pain-free when riding, I hoped that I could get through the race without it affecting me too much, but I knew that was unlikely. I wanted to test myself and see what I was capable of when focusing on racing the whole way. Unfortunately, the sciatica problems had seriously dented my confidence that this strategy would be possible, but I still wanted to try. Sitting and not moving is one of the worst things for sciatica, so my first challenge was a total of 5 hours on TGV trains from Switzerland, with a change in Paris, and onto Belgium, but frequently walking around in the carriage worked well. In Brussels station, I met Jack, a friend who now lives there, and we rode the 40 km to the start in Geraardsbergen together. I soon discovered that their popularity was due to the sections of the famous Flandrian cobbles, which were a lot bumpier than I had expected. This year, I was responsible for my good friend Alain Rumpf entering the race. You can read his race report here. I started remembering what it was like for me the previous year when I had so little idea as to how my body and mind would handle the distances, how the racing aspect would be, and what the riding would be like in the farthest reaches of south-eastern Europe. This year, there were far fewer unknowns ahead so I was far more relaxed. The start time of midnight approached suddenly, so we lined up on the upper stretch of the infamous cobbles of the Kappelmuur and waited for the town mayor to start the race by ringing his bell. The race began with a loop around Geraardsbergen, descending down to the river then through the market square and up the famous Kappelmuur cobbled climb back to the start line. My video of the start is below. As the climb started, Juliana Buhring, the best female racer in the world for this type of event, came past and I rode most of the climb with her. In the video, she is the one with the white helmet and the headlight pointing straight down. Myself and Chris Bennett wearing our Noxgear Tracer light vests There was a good crowd of supporters at the top of the Muur consisting of friends and families of the racers, plus a few locals who just like watching a bike race while having a beer on Friday night. It was a far more festive send-off than the one at 8am on Westminster Bridge in London last year. Soon after leaving the Muur, we approached the first intersection. I was ready to go left, but I knew that many others would be heading right. I was surprised by how many people were thrown by already having to make a choice and started frantically fumbling with their Garmins and pulling on their brake levers. I hoped that this would be the first of many parts of the race in which my extensive planning and preparation would allow me to gain some time. I was into race mode and flying off into the Belgian night. This conservative strategy extended to the first night when he stopped after 20 km to get a few hours of sleep in a hotel, possibly the only person out of the starters to do so. Meanwhile, I wanted to get through one large Belgian and one large French town while the roads were empty at night, plus a long section on a big national highway in France, so I planned to ride km before 7am. I had a few mechanical issues along the way, with my front fender coming off due to being too shaken by the cobbles all day, my front derailleur moving out of line when I downshifted, and my headlight being askew. I spoke to a few riders during the first hour, including Matt Swain. We had been in touch thru the Facebook group, and I had given him some advice for which he wanted to thank me. I had met a few other people around the start who had said similar things, which was very satisfying. Rolling French farmlands with menacing skies By the middle of the night, I was riding on the same main road in France as most other TCR riders had chosen, so I could see a series of tail-lights up ahead, spaced out with a couple hundred meters between each. Being in a slow-motion individual time trial in the middle of the night felt quite odd. I tried not to push it too hard and just kept up a respectable pace rather than trying to race anyone. When the sun started to lighten up the sky in the east around 5am, my mood improved significantly. The threat of rain and the stiff sidewinds that had been with us all night continued, but each time it rained properly, I managed to find some cover to duck under for a few minutes and stayed mostly dry. I reached the end of the section on the national highway at the town of Vervins shortly after 7am and looked for somewhere to put my bivvy bag down once I was on the smaller roads. I got an hour or so of sleep and had something to eat before remounting my bike. The terrain was rolling hills through the farmlands of northern France and the stiff sidewinds continued, making the riding never easy. By 8pm I had been on the road for most of the first 20 hours of the race, so was really pleased to find a hotel with a room because there was nothing available in the region on the Booking. Some other racers had found the same hotel, and I had dinner with Gregory Barry, a French guy from Lyon who used to be a bike courier and so knows my colleague Blaize. I was on the road at 6am the next day and hoping for better feelings in my legs. I was now riding up the scenic upper Seine river, past the vineyards and wineries of the Champagne region, which you can see in one part of my video of highlights from the first 3 days above. I met Jim Cameron from the Isle of Mull on the road and it was again nice to talk to an excited rookie, but after a few minutes of exchanging stories he pushed on because he was riding much stronger than I was. Reaching the Seine By mid-morning, I started to get a migraine headache, which is quite rare for me. I stopped a couple of times to eat something, to have a lay down, and to try to recover, but nothing was helping. This made me seriously consider whether I should quit the race right there and head home towards Lausanne instead of towards Mont Ventoux. I told him that I was a mess physically and mentally and would be waiting in a bus stop for him to catch me. She was very upset for me, but was supportive in any decision that I made. I took an ibuprofen to ease the migraine and had something to eat, which finally made my head feel better. I made it to the top of the climb, near the official source of the Seine river, and I still had to wait for a couple of minutes before Alain arrived. We then descended down to Dijon together and looked for a restaurant to discuss what I would do. We were eventually served a very large plate of chicken, chips, and salad, which went down great while we exchanged stories from the first two days. Alain had met a lot of people as he moved up from the very back of the field, and was getting the hang of TCR riding. It was after 5pm when we got back on the road. Alain had made his goal an Ibis hotel near Bourg-en-Bresse, km away. As we exited Dijon, I met a pair of German riders who I had seen the previous day — Matthias and Matthias, and chatted to them briefly. Evening fairground snack I became confident that I could make it to Bourg-en-Bresse before it got too late, so I thought about staying in the same hotel as Alain. I continued at a gentler pace; then 15 km before town I found a village with a visiting fairground. Fairgrounds are great because they always have food stands that are open late into the evening and offer fast calories. I got a can of Fanta and a Nutella-covered crepe and waited for Alain to show up, and he soon ordered a caramel waffle. It was an extremely effective wind and rain shield for his entire legs, but did look rather odd. We told him that ingenuity and problem solving like that would get him a long way in the TCR. I found one listed on the far side of town, not far from my planned route, but when we were almost there, Alain announced that he had booked at the Ibis Budget instead of the regular Ibis that we were approaching. So I decided to try the Formule 1 hotel that my Garmin GPS showed to be 2 km out of town in the direction that I needed to head in the morning. After a fast evening of riding, I was in total race mode so wanted to make the optimal decision for my race, so I said goodbye to Alain. Upon arriving at the Forumle 1, I got a cheap room and was very satisfied to have ridden just over km that day despite the terrible middle part and almost quitting. I was on the road before sunrise again at 6am and was happy that my legs and energy were continuing to feel good. The wind was still a slight hindrance, but I was looking forward to entering the Rhone valley where it would become a tailwind for the first time. Classic French road lined with Plaine trees I expected that Alain would catch me soon and when I stopped for a short break after 80km, he was only a few kms behind, but he took a break around the same time. I was now confident that I could make it to Bedoin that evening, so phoned a hotel to reserve a room. After refueling, the anticipated wind was fully behind me and I kept up a good speed all afternoon. Alain and I had ridden this section of the route together back in March, which was handy because there were several options along the Rhone — the large national road, the quieter regional road, a bike path, and occasionally a small back-road that went on and off some of the islands in the middle of the Rhone. We had learnt which parts of the bike path to avoid and which to use, and had a pretty good route plotted using many of the smaller roads. A mole that came to explore where I stopped for the previous photo After riding km along the Rhone and crossing it several times, I had to leave it behind and climb towards the base of the Giant of Provence, Mont Ventoux. The road rolled through the Provencale farmlands on some absolutely fantastic roads. It looked like I would arrive at a reasonable time at the hotel, not much after 9pm. I texted Heather and kept my phone out to take a few photos of the beautiful roads and scenery. I turned around and went full speed back into the wind that had been pushing me along all afternoon. I sped through Suze-la-Rousse, the town with the best name on the whole route, and saw a couple of other racers, including Gregory who had been in the same hotel as me two nights earlier. I started to feel slightly better about my predicament because his was so much worse, but I felt terrible for him. I put my head down and rode hard for two hours to get to the hotel. The roads were empty of traffic and everything was beautiful in the evening light, but I arrived a bit after dark, significantly later than I had hoped, and having ridden much harder than I should have for the last few hours. Despite this problem, things were looking much better for my race prospects. I had done almost km in the previous 29 hours and was feeling fewer and fewer effects from my sciatica while riding. I was still hobbling around when off the bike, but on the bike I had somehow managed to get back to being almost on my initial schedule. For how long could this continue? Unfortunately, my legs were far from the ideal temperature. I had to get straight into the climb with no chance for a warm-up. I was amazed by the number of other people doing the climb, none of whom were TCR riders — they were just there to challenge themselves against this legendary monster. On the upper stretch, the wind was mostly kind and I waved to a few other TCR riders as they flew down in the other direction. On top of Ventoux with Heather It was wonderful to see Heather. I was waiting until lunchtime for the big grocery store that I had found on a previous ride in the region. An hour after lunch, I stopped again to say hello to a TCR rider who was hanging out at a roadside fruit stand who turned out to be Martin Cox. It was great to finally chat to him about his adventures the previous year. A strong tailwind blew me up the Durance valley. Things had certainly turned around since my struggle up Ventoux in the morning. They had a table with drinks and snacks and were watching the tracker to see when people were approaching. They were disappointed that only 1 in 10 riders were taking this more scenic option. This pass was a significant point geographically because it not only meant crossing from France to Italy but also moving from the region that drains via the Rhone river towards the Mediterrannean Sea into the drainage basin of the Adriatic Sea via the Po river. Having attacked the Montgenevre climb quite hard, I took the final climb up to Sestriere very easy. It was pm by the time I started and the moon was almost full, so I turned off my front lights and climbed the empty mountain road by moonlight. It was one of the most beautiful moments of the race looking at the mountains and valleys that surrounded me in the moonlight. The control hotel in Sestriere offered riders a good price for sharing a room with other racers. After a solid 6. At breakfast, there were many other racers who stayed in the hotel and some had just arrived and were paying to enjoy the buffet. The buffet had started a couple of hours early for us, which meant that several options had already been completely finished, including the eggs and the chocolate cereal. Before getting on the road, I restocked my supply of sports drink powder and energy gels. The pharmacy sold what I would later discover were the most disgusting gels ever. I dropped my tire pressure to maintain some degree of comfort, which was possible without risking pinch flats due to having tubeless tires, I ran 65 psi 4. I enjoyed the view from the top of the first climb for a couple of minutes with two other riders as we took photos of each other. Soon after, the reasonable dirt road became much rougher. I love these kinds of roads, so had a great time bouncing my way down the descents and crawling up the climbs. I passed many people who were either walking or were stopped to fix punctures. You can see what a lot of it was like in this video from my action camera above. One of many very rough sections of the Assietta After a few hours, I was getting tired of the rough dirt, so was relieved when I reached the short paved climb up the Colle della Finestre at the end of the Assietta road. Halfway down the Finestre, my luck with avoiding punctures finally ran out as the sidewall on my front tire got cut by a stone — something that even having tubeless tires cannot prevent. I repaired the tire with an internal patch and put an inner tube inside. Lasagne and almost 1 litre of Coke finished, time to attack the pizza I expected that trying to ride around the northern edge of Torino during rush hour, about pm, was going to be terrible, but it was not at all bad and once I escaped the city I spotted a place to eat. They had large slices of lasagna ready to be put in the microwave and served hot almost immediately, so I ordered one of those while they cooked me a pizza, half of which I ate there and the other half I saved for later. I enjoyed my evening ride through the small hills just south of the Po river while most other people took the flatter and less interesting roads north of the Po. After it got dark, I crossed to the north side of the Po and resigned myself to not going over another climb of more than a few meters until Slovenia, about km away. Vineyards just south of the Po river Around pm, I found a park in the center of a small village where I sat down for a rest and to eat some more pizza. One of the kids showed my where to find the water fountain, so fully refueled, I got back on the road to do a couple more hours before deciding to get some rest in the bivvy bag just off the side of the road at around 1am. The temperature never went below about 23 C, so I had no need for my sleeping bag, but the bivvy bag was essential to keep the mosquitoes away. Milk vending machine While getting ready to hit the road again at 5am, I saw a few separate TCR riders go past. Due to the ideal conditions, and the time lost on the Assietta section, many people had decided to sleep even less than me. Riding at night had been good for two reasons. First, the roads around Pavia are way too narrow for the amount of traffic that uses them during the day, whereas they are very quiet at night; second, the forecast was correct and a strong headwind picked up a couple hours after it got light. I resigned myself to the fact that I would be riding dead flat roads straight into this wind all day long. I set my target at km because I would then be mostly done with the flat northern Italian plains and would be almost in Slovenia, where I always love to ride. My Spring training rides in Italy had taught me how to more easily find supplies. When it started to get dark, I was in the suburbs of Venice. Many sidewalks had been painted to be bike paths, but I avoided riding on those because they always slow me down significantly, and the danger from cross-traffic is greatly increased because drivers are not used to looking for fast-moving vehicles using the bike paths. I was not enjoying riding in the suburbs in the dark and the headwind was still blowing, so I disappointedly found a hotel 20 km before reaching my target distance. I was definitely on schedule to reach the finish in time for the party in under 15 days. Despite having more than enough energy to continue with the pace that I had been doing, I was never sure how much more my sciatica problem might start to hinder me. I was about to find out. Typical Italian village I was doing well at getting up early, often waking after only 5 or 6 hours of sleep, minutes before the alarm I had set for 5am. I again got on the road by 6am to get out of the Venice suburbs before the traffic increased and the wind picked up. Off the bike, I had to limp around with minimal weight on that leg to avoid the worst of the pain. By halfway thru the second hour, I knew I was in serious trouble because every pedal stroke caused pain to shoot down my sciatic nerve. I stopped every few kms for a few minutes to find some relief, but the pain was at least as bad when off the bike. I had no hope of being able to complete my second Transcontinental Race, and if I tried I might continue to do damage to my back. I was devastated but I had no choice but to stop. I slowly made it to the next major town 25 km away, where I laid down on a park bench and called Heather. She was relieved to hear that I was scratching from the race, which was quite a contrast of emotions to the tears she shed when I talked to her about quitting on Day 2. However, I really wanted to see Alain that evening before he set off on the rest of his TCR adventure. On the way out of town, I found a grocery store where I stocked up on food so that I could have a feast once I got to the hotel. Outside the store, I found another TCR rider, Martin Nietzke, and it was good to talk to someone about my disappointment. I was just cruising along, going as fast as my body would allow without causing too much pain. I found a gelateria and enjoyed the sumptuous ice cream without feeling guilty that I was wasting time. The server was worried that I was limping around due to a bike accident, but I assured him that my problems had nothing to do with cycling, which was the frustrating part. Four weeks before the start, I was feeling great and was ready to go then, why did all of these problems have to start? I arrived at the hotel by 2pm and spent the afternoon resting, catching up with race news, and announcing my scratch on my Facebook page and to the race organizers. Alain had been pleased to have such a firm goal for the day to focus on while battling into the headwind along the flat roads. Having dinner with Jayne, Alain, and Katie After Alain got cleaned up, we went over to the pizzeria across the street, and by chance, a few minutes later the ladies came in. They seemed to have worked out a good strategy of getting on the road at 4am every morning and doing long, steady days. No-one seemed to be in a rush to finish dinner and get to bed, which I was slightly surprised by, but I discovered when talking to them after the race that this had been an important evening for all of them because they relaxed and left race mode aside for a short time and just enjoyed the adventure and the company. For most people in the TCR, these moments are far more important than is the exact finishing time in Istanbul. During the afternoon, Heather had decided to drive out from Switzerland to pick me up the next day. Lower section of the Soca valley Instead of waiting around at the hotel for Heather to arrive, I decided to go for a gentle bike ride and see how I felt. If I could do that then I could probably also get 30km to a motorway pull-off to make it easier for Heather to find me. In addition, riding in Slovenia is always awesome: great roads, great views, nice drivers, etc. This at least confirmed that I had no option but to quit the race. I still had plenty of energy in my right leg to plod along at a slow pace, so I decided that the more ambitious option of riding into Slovenia was possible. Heather had run into some pretty bad traffic on the Italian motorways, so since I was still feeling good and was loving being in Slovenia, I decided to keep going to the next town. My parents were also there because they had been hoping to congratulate me crossing the finish line. I wanted to bring a bike on the plane to get around the city and region without walking much, so I brought my folding bike, an Airnimal Joey, to avoid paying oversize baggage fees. I therefore spent a day rectifying that by riding all the way to a beach on the Black Sea on the Asian side as part of a km-long loop. I still had just one leg doing most of the work, and the route was quite hilly, so it was tough but I managed it. The length of the route and the tough weather conditions headwinds most of the way meant that many people had to quit due to being too far behind schedule, picking up injuries due to riding so hard for so long, or had other issues that prevented them from continuing. Fortunately, the 30 or so finishers who did make it in time for the party were supplemented by many of the riders who had scratched but had got themselves to Istanbul by some other means. Everyone had stories to share from the previous two weeks, so I had a very enjoyable day. Some of the guys who completed the TCR in 15 days Katie was one of the others who had scratched but still made it to Istanbul. Jayne eventually became the only woman to finish the race, with all 3 of the women who started as solo riders failing to reach the finish, as did the two women who started with male partners. In fact, only about half of the starters managed to complete the entire race. This compares to the previous year in which 64 of 89 starters finished, 52 of whom did so before the party on Day Mike Hall, the race organizer, stated that this will likely go down in race history as being the toughest edition ever with the highest dropout rate. You can read more about his adventure here. Having been responsible for him signing up for the race in the first place, I was pleased to be able to ride out to meet him 25km from the finish line and do the last section through the forest and along the Bosphorus together, which you can see in the video above. The next day, we flew home to Switzerland. The map on the left click to enlarge it shows my in complete route, with the start, and intermediate checkpoints marked in yellow and overnight stops marked in blue. More detailed maps for each day are shown with the daily descriptions, so click on the links above to see those. I rode a total distance of 1, km 1, miles during the race with 13, metres 43, feet of climbing in 6 and a half days, at an overall riding speed of I did an additional 40 km riding to the start and km riding from the point where I withdrew from the race to where my wife collected me, so the trip total was 2, km. My average daily distance was km miles with metres of altitude gain, which I completed in an average of 16 hours elapsed time and almost 13 hours of that being on the bike so 3 hours of breaks during the day. At night, I stopped for an average of 8 hours, of which I slept for about 5 hours. Day 3, in the Rhone valley in France, was my longest, managing km miles in Day 4 was my biggest climbing day with metres of accumulated altitude gain across the French and Italian Alps. I achieved this by riding for almost 2 hours more per day, reducing my stops slightly during the day and stopping for 1 hour less each night. The race results are on the official race website here. I analyzed the data to breakdown how I did, and here are my placings:. I started relatively slowly for the first two days, but then had two very good days, including riding from Mont Ventoux to Sestriere in the fourth best time of the people. By the time my back really went, I lost all the strength in my left leg, and had to scratch, I was actually in the front third of the field and was on schedule to finish in under 15 days, which in the end only 36 people were able to do. Withdrawing from the race was obviously a massive negative, but the way I rode until that point gives me massive confidence in what I could do when healthy, but obviously serious regret for what could have been. Hopefully I can learn from my experiences to do even better in This page is in the My Bikepacking Race Reports section. The next page in this section is: Transcontinental Race Report, part 1 Personal race report of the first half of my Transcontinental Race. Read More Page Contents:. Personal race report of the first half of my Transcontinental Race. View on Strava.