Oct
4
The 2007 Brevet de Randonneur des Alpes
Filed Under Cycling
From time to time, we have good days on a bike, and from time we have great days. I know that this is all relative and the world of cycling is a big pyramid and that I’m near the bottom, but from time to time, we can ride and feel satisfaction from our accomplishments. You know, the kind of day that I’ll look back on when I’m old and sat on a veranda in a rocking chair and think that this was a good day.
On a bike, my great days include the Grenobloise in 2001 where I finished 8th and 13 minutes behind the winner. I’d also include the Marmotte in 2001, where I finished 105th and an hour behind the winner in horrible conditions. I’d now like to add the 2007 Brevet de Randonneur des Alpes to that list and I may even put it at the top of the list. I don’t know where I found the energy to make it around the course as well as I did, especially the last 70 kilometres, but it turned out to be one of the most satisfying rides I have ever done. I had good legs on all the climbs, and in the final 60 kilometres, and when I expect to fade, I kept finding energy. It was an amazing feeling.
I hadn’t ridden a big event in the mountains since the Marmotte in 2004, and at the start of 2007, I’d set myself the goal of riding the Brevet de Randonneur des Alpes. I had ridden regularly since the end of February in 2007, I’d lost five kilograms, and managed a few longer rides. However, I had only ridden more than 200 kilometres in a day on two occasions in my life. 1997, I’d ridden 240 kilometres through England and mid-Wales on rolling roads rather than the high Alps. In 2001, I’d ridden through the Vercors for a 200 kilometre day ride.
The Brevet de Randonneur des Alpes is a cyclotourist event, where the emphasis is on completing the course rather than racing for a position. There is no classification at the end, and there are mulitple departure times that allow people to guage the best time for them to leave to make it around the course. Each rider has a route card that needs to get stamped at various key points along the route. Some riders chose a Saturday departure and ride the route in two days with an overnight stop halfway around the course, and the majority chose a departure at some point on the Sunday morning to complete the course on the same day.
The 225 kilometre course started in Vizille, a small town close to Grenoble, and 280 metres in altitude. The four cols on the route included the 2067 metre Col de Croix de Fer, the 1630 metre Col du Mollard, the 1566 metre Col du Telegraphe and finally, the 2646 metre Col du Galibier. From the Galibier, it was a 75 kilometre descent back to the finish in Vizille. A similar course to the Marmotte, but without the Alpe d’Huez at the end. In total, it added up to over 4,650 metres of climbing.
The first two groups had already left at two’o'clock and three’o'clock in the morning, and I was ready in Vizille at five’o'clock for the departure at 5:30 am. It was still dark, although we were not required to have lights on our bikes for the five thirty departure. However, we had a motorcycle escort for the first 30 kilometres. Thick cloud hung on the mountainsides just above the valley, and I was pleased as this was the kind of weather that suited me. It wouldn’t be too hot at the start although the weather forecast was predicting that the clouds would disappear in the afternoon.
The departure was a quiet affair and a few hundred cyclists left Vizille at a steady speed that allowed the group to cycle together for the first 10 kilometres before we reached the village of Livet. I’d worked my way to sit behind the first ten riders, so that I was near enough to the front to go with any splits in the group, and far enough back to shelter in the group. The pace did jump up as we rode into Riouperoux a few kilometres later, and I realised that I had a choice to make. I could do the sensible thing and let the other riders go, in order to save my legs for the next 210 kilometres. Or I could jump across and not miss this faster group, but I may have problems later with tired legs. I’m afraid I’m somebody who finds it difficult to sit still, and I jumped across and went with the faster riders.
By the time we reached foot of the Col de la Croix de Fer after Allemont and with 30 kilometres in the legs, the group had been reduced to about 50 riders. I had a little Canon Ixus camera with me, and had taken various videos of the group, which bemused the cyclists around me. We had already climbed 400 metres.
The group kept a steady pace on the first kilometres of the Col de la Croix de Fer, and didn’t split as quickly as I expected. I found myself at the back of the group, with riders leaving me behind, but I then found my legs after around three kilometres and started to climb back and pass riders. I didn’t ride too fast but at a comfortable rate, and a pace that I thought would allow me to still have legs on the Col du Galibier. I knew that I would be okay until at least the Col du Telegraphe, but after feeling completely drained on the Col du Glandon a week before, I knew that eating and drinking would be the key to getting through the day. Things were more relaxed than in the Marmotte, and I chatted with a number of cyclists. Like me, most were riding the BRA for the first time.
The riders around me decreased in numbers and at the Barrage du Grand Maison, at 1,700 metres, I was riding with three other riders. The sun showed it’s face in the last five kilometres of the Col de la Croix de Fer, and lush, green mountainsides with rocky peaks were starting to appear amongst the clouds. My legs felt fine and I rode the last three kilometres alone with a rider just ahead, and a rider around about 100 metres behind me.
The BRA is an event where you need stamps on your route card on the way around, and the second stamp was at the 2067 metre Col de la Croix de Fer. I ate some dried prunes and filled my water bottle before starting the descent.
I set off on the descent from the Col de la Croix de Fer alone and immediately felt chilled. The pass had been bathed in sun, but the air was still cool and I could feel the cold wind blowing up the sleeves of my rain jacket. I descended into thick cloud and it was often difficult to see the road ahead. I passed through the ski resort of St-Sorlin-d’Arves, and yet again, didn’t find a good route through the town as the ruts and bumps on the road made it uncomfortable riding. I had to stop a few kilometres later on the descent as my back bottle cage was starting to bounce around as the bolts had worked loose, and it took a few minutes to find the pocket that had the tools in before I was able to tighten the bolts and be on the road again.
The southern side Col du Mollard was a climb that I’d ridden for the first time a week earlier, so it was fresh in my mind. I knew that I’d have 400 metres of vertical ascent with six kilometres of climbing to the 1630 metre mountain pass, and then a thousand metre vertical drop to the valley. I then had 12 kilometres of valley riding before the feed stop in St-Michel-de-Maurienne. I felt good on the Mollard, as it’s never too steep in the first half and easy to spin up, and then the steeper sections in the second half don’t feel as bad as you can see the pass on the mountainside above. I passed riders on the climb, often in small groups that were chatting away. I could see two riders climbing at a similar pace to me on the hairpins below, and I’d get to know these two riders later in the day, on the descent of the Lautaret.
The drop down from the Col du Mollard was shrouded in cloud, and at one point, I took a right-hand bend a little too fast, only to meet a car approaching, and I was thankfully quick enough to get back on my side of the road. I should have remembered the corner from the previous week but it wasn’t a particularly pleasant experience to have known that was so close to flying into his windscreen.
I rode alone on the 12 kilometres on the valley road from St-Jean-de-Maurienne to St-Michel-de-Maurienne, and enjoyed the slight tailwind pushing me to the foot of the third climb. This is a road I know well from the Marmotte event, and was pleased to climb up and pass the petrol garage with three kilometres to St-Michel-de-Maurienne as I knew it would be downhill and flat for the next few kilometres to the bottom of the Col du Telegraphe.
At St-Michel-de-Maurienne, the feedstop was busy with cyclists and I got the stamp on my route card and sat down for 15 minutes to eat the meal provided. I knew that one of the key things to making it to the Col du Galibier was to eat and drink well here, and I took the time to eat everything except the cheese.
The steepest gradients on the 1566 metre Col du Telegraphe are in the bottom half of the climb, and I kept my rhythm steady here. The number of riders on the road had increased and I was constantly catching cyclists. These were riders that had left Vizille at two or three in the morning. It took me about four kilometres to catch a rider that I had seen climbing ahead of me, and we rode together for another two kilometres before he increased his pace to a speed that was too fast for me, and I didn’t see him again until the Col. I chatted with a young girl who was climbing at a good speed, and she’d let me know that it wasn’t her first BRA before I was again on my own.
Over the last four kilometres, I was aware that I was being caught by a cyclist behind, and with a kilometre to the summit of the 1566 metre Col du Telegraphe, the rider passed me. However, it wasn’t a steady overtaking, but an acceleration to put a gap between us. It pissed me off immensely and I jumped across immediately and sat on his wheel. I could hear his heavy breathing .so I knew that he was on the limit, and after a minute, he glanced back and saw I was still there. He accelerated again to drop me, I reacted and attacked him. Here I was on a 225 kilometre event, racing for pride on the Col du Telegraphe. The good news is that I did roll over the Col a good distance ahead of the other cyclist.
There are five kilometres of flat riding and descending into the ski resort of Valloire and I used the time to eat and drink before the start of the Col du Galibier. I had the impression that we had a slight tailwind as I climbed out of town, and in Les Verney, I filled my water bottle at the fountain by the hotel, and span up the first kilometres of the Galibier. Valloire is situated at 1,500 metres, and the Col du Galibier is 17 kilometres away and 2.646 metres in altitude.
As I cycled out of the ski resort, it was starting to feel warm. I had coated myself in suncream at four thirty in the morning, and I was hoping that it would still be doing it’s job as the sweat rolled down my arms. .
The road winds its way up the left-hand side of the valley until a big hairpin at a place called Plan Lachat. This is where the Col du Galibier really starts. The gradient ramps up, and the scenery becomes more spectacular. I’d studied the profile of the Galibier over the last few days to really understand where I would expect it to hurt. It’s a climb that I’ve ridden on five Marmottes and on other occasions, but it had still been three years since I’d raced up it. I was amazed that I’d reached the Plan Lachat, and that I still had good legs.
A few hairpins later, the Col appeared on the horizon, and I could see a stream of cyclists climbing up the mountainside above me. The gradient didn’t feel too bad until I reached the final kilometre, where the gradient increases to ten percent. I filmed myself with 500 metres to the Col, and again in the final 250 metres, and realised that I didn’t have much energy left. I tried to talk to the camera as I filmed but I found it difficult to speak as I felt quite emotional as I’d reached the Col du Galibier. It was the spectators this time who were bemused at me filming as I cycled.
I collected my stamp at the Col, as well as taking a few minutes to eat at the food stop. The air felt fresh so I needed to be quick and to get back on the road.
I descended the first kilometres of the Galibier feeling rejuvinated. At the feed station at the top, I’d eaten bread and cheese, as well as numerous quarters of orange. There is only so much fruit and liquid energy drink that I can take on a long event and I felt I needed something solid in my stomach.
There is something special about dropping down a big mountain pass in an event. It was sunny, the air was cool, but nowhere near as cold as the Croix de Fer had been, and I felt great. The views were stunning, the road wasn’t busy and I used the whole road where possible, and kept my pedalling to the minumum for the eight and a half kilometres drop down to the Col du Lautaret.
I had been warned about the headwind from the 2058 metre Col du Lautaret, and today was no exception. My wind jacket is relatively tight, compared to the parachutes that some people seem to enjoy descending in, but I could feel the wind pushing me around the road. I passed cyclists regularly, most of whom were taking part in the BRA, and who had started earlier in the morning as their bikes had one or two headlights on the handlebars. I used the whole road when I could see that there was no traffic so that I could keep as much speed as possible, as the wind was acting as a natural brake.
After 10 kilometres of descending from the Lautaret, I passed through the village of La Grave. I had been passing numerous cyclists, but after the village, I caught two French guys, Deny and Gilles. There was another rider with them, but he soon disappeared when we started working together into the headwind. Both Deny and Gilles were tanned, with shaved and toned legs, and riding nice bikes and were working together. It was a huge pschological boost for me to catch them both as I’d been alone and they were two working together.
It felt good to be riding with them, and the longer I rode with them, the better I felt. The headwind was horribly strong, but we were three and had the time to recurperate between our turn at the front. Each time it was my turn, I came to the front and buried myself to push us along. The headwind was strong, but I was having fun and determined to get to the finish with nothing left.
As we dropped down to the valley and Bourg d’Oisans, we stopped for our last stamp on our route card and the chance to quickly fill our water bottles and eat some food. It was only 33 kilometres to the finish in Vizille, and although we had over 400 metres of vertical descent over the distance, the headwind was as strong as it had been near the top of the Col du Lautaret. We continued to work together and passed numerous groups of cyclists on their way back to Vizille.
I was starting to feel tired, but I still had energy and continued to take my turn at the front. I was amazed that after 200 kilometres, I was able to push big gears and to keep the speed going when I came to the front. The kilometres quickly dropped away, and after nine hours and 57 minutes, we arrived back in Vizille. I’d been lucky, if I hadn’t caught the two French guys, I’m sure that I would have still been near Bourg d’Oisans.
We congratulated each other and picked up our certificates before saying goodbye. I turned out that I’d met Gilles a few years ago on the Col des Ayes in the Belledonne, but I couldn’t remember, and we’d also ridden together in the Marmotte in 2001. He’d finished 50th, and I’d finished about 15 minutes later in 105th.
I’m finishing this diary entry a week later, and I can still feel the BRA in my legs. I knew that the event would hit me two days later, and it did. I felt shattered for a lot of last week, but I also feel a lot of pride at riding so well. We don’t have too many days like that, and I’d ridden well on all the climbs, and then had amazing luck to catch Deny and Gilles and to then work with them for the final 60 kilometres. There had also been a nice atmosphere over the day and I’d had the chance to talk to a lot of cyclists, which had never happened in the Marmotte.
I had been filming over the day on a little Canon Ixus camera to try and capture the scenery, and you can find my video diary online here.
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