A wise man once said: “It’s good to question your practice often. The moment you stop questioning is the moment you get it wrong.”
I’ve tried to live by that maxim for many years, but sometimes, I fall into a knowing sense of security and invariably that is when it all goes wrong. Despite several decades of cycling experience my getting it all wrong moments on the bike happen more frequently than I would like.
A recent example was on an early morning ride on the Col de Peyrosourde in the French Pyrenees. I often start my day of guiding cyclists with a 4.30am pedal up the col that happens to be nearest the hotel we are staying in. When the rest of my day is going to be in a van supporting riders, it’s good to grab any opportunity I can to get a ride in the bag.
At this time of the morning I’m starting off in the pitch black and often it’s not until I get near the summit that the sun starts to rise.
On this occasion the weather was mild and I started off with a long sleeve jersey, gilet and thin waterproof jacket. The previous morning I’d ridden on the Col de Pailheres and worn short-fingered gloves, so automatically did the same on this morning. The Peyresourde summit was lower after all.
On the way up I felt a little chill in the air and wondered if I should’ve worn more clothing and taken long-fingered gloves, but as I had to take off my rain cape, and unzip my gilet and jersey as I climbed, I thought nothing more of it.
Upon reaching the summit I realised my error. It was decidedly chilly and the minute it took for me to take a selfie shot at the summit cairn I was already shivering. Below me I had what I consider to be one of the best descents in the world – 15km of smooth, winding and very fast tarmac.
I had dreamed of riding this descent for many years and now my time had come, but as I rolled off from the top my fingers were already starting to go numb.
One kilometre further on and they were starting to ache. I managed another 500 metres before I gingerly a manger to stop, pulling on my brake levers with aching fingers.
It was the first of several such stops on the way down. I set off downhill again, slightly slower this time to try and reduce the speed the cold air was hitting my body. I managed another two kilometres before stopping again. This time, as I descended, my front wheel had actually been bouncing on the road surface as I descended, agitated by my whole body in spasms of cold shivers.
I was cursing my lack of forward planning. Yes, I was riding my bike and I loved the peace and quiet, but my raison d’etre for that specific early morning departure had been the descent. What could have been a fast and beautiful flowing drop from altitude, became a painful and shuddering.
I eventually made it to the town of Luchon in the valley floor and rode along to my hotel. It took me a few moments to punch in the security code in the door of the hotel – I was shivering so much by this point I couldn’t hold my hand steady enough. When I eventually got the code right I sprinted up to my room and instantly jumped in the shower – it took a long time to thaw out.
It had been a schoolboy error and one that I was determined not to make again – until the next time at least.
Where to Ride: Distance: 18 miles/ 29km
Details: Join the Blazing Saddles Strava Club at: www.strava.com/clubs/BlazingSaddlesWeekendCourier
Where to Ride: Col de Peyresourde, French Pyrenees
Distance: 9 miles/15km
Details: Starting in Bagnéres-deLuchon the climb of the Peyresourde starts from the edge of town and winds its way up slopes that reach a maximum gradient of 9%. It can also be climbed from Arreau in the valley on the other side, but whichever way you do it, it is the descent into Luchon that makes this climb worth doing.
