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Euro Cycle Sportives
by Aodan Higgins
Ronde Picardie, Normandie
The first event was the Ronde Picardie held
on the first weekend in September in Northern France. When I first heard
of this a week before it happened I hadn't been too keen, 180km around the
largely flat farmland of Northern France, not exactly inspiring. Anyway,
during the week I thought why not and booked the ferry.
It turned out to be quite an experience,
I've done a few cyclosportives before but generally these have been based
in mountains, never on the flat. After a last minute rush to sign on we
joined the back of the group at the start line. After the obligatory
speech by the local mayor and a the local sports personality the klaxon
went and we were off. I was conscious of being at the back so made an
effort early on to move up, easier said than done with the average speed
being just over 40kph. Soon, I gave up trying to move up and settled into
a group which seemed to be maintaining a good pace. I was surprised just
how little effort was needed to stay in a group which occupied most off
the road. The group was big enough (about 50) that I didn't feel any need
to do any work and just hid out off the wind.
After about 2 hours of this I looked at the
computer and saw I had covered the best part of 80km in the 2 hours. This
frightened me a bit and I thought surely I'm going to blow, so I thought I
should start eating. I fumbled in my pocket for a bar but in the
confusion, my rolled up windshell fell out onto the road. By the time I
negotiated my way out of the group and turned around to retrieve it, the
group was gone. I looked both ways along the road, my group has
disappeared and there was no sign of anybody behind, just me, some empty
fields and a wind that I hadn't noticed before while I was cocooned in the
group, there weren't even any hedges on the side of the road for shelter.
I decided to chase for a few minutes but I knew there was little chance of
maintaining that speed on my own.
It was now I became conscious of the amount
of marshalls on the course, all the junctions were manned with marshalls
stopping traffic even on quite main roads and large roundabouts where most
exits were covered. As always happens though at one point the main road
turned right and up a hill with a smaller road continuing straight on.
With no marshalls in sight I carried straight on down the minor road.
After a few k I came to a T-junction with a main road and again no
marshalls. I tried asking two people but I probably couldn't have made any
sense in English, not to mind in French, so I turned back. When I got back
to the original junction there were hundreds of people streaming up the
hill, where were they when I needed them.
By the end of that hill I had managed to
work my way to the front and it became obvious this group was quite a bit
slower than my previous group. In frustration I began to cycle about 50
yds ahead to see if anybody would join me. Luckily there were two other
takers and we were on our way again but working much harder this time in
such a small group.
For what seemed like an eternity we worked
our way along the coast into a now vicious wind that was getting stronger
as the day got hotter. We picked up some more riders at the feed station
to share the workload but it was a real war of attrition with everybody
trying to shelter from the wind and also desperate not to allow any gaps
to develop. This is the first time I been part of that through-and-off
type fromation with riders spreading across the whole widtn of the road
and taking turns on the wind ward side.
After about another two or three hours of
this we saw a large group ahead and put a fresh effort to bridge the gap.
When I got there I started to recognise some jerseys from the my original
group at the start of the ride. Soon after this we turned a corner away
from the wind and the group started to split up again. This didn't matter
as much this time as the going seemed easier without the wind to contend
with. Eventually about I crossed the line to stop the clock at just under
6 hours, an average speed of 31.5kmph.
If you're looking for a new experience, it
is possible to do a cyclosportive without the mountains. This is well
worth a trip, it's not too far away and well organised. Just be prepared
for the wind.
Gran Fondo Carlo D'Apporto
A slightly differrent experience was the
Gran Fondo Carlo D'Apporto on the Mediteranean coast just over the French
border from Nice. The event was the last of the cyclosportive season in
Itally and was billed as an easy wind-down with relatively good weather,
well for October anyway. The ride itself had the option of a 80km or 140km
routes. Obviously, after coming such a long way we had chosen the 140km.
It involved a few 500m climbs in the second half of the course but nothing
too monumental.
Organising the trip turned out to be fairly
straightforward. Just book a flight to Nice, jump on a train and get
collected by some friends who ran a cycling holiday company in the hills
nearby.
I arrived a day early to give time to
unwind and get in some local cycling before the day itself. A suitably
relaxing ride was had, spinning down to and along the coast in a
comfortable 20 deg, the perfect antidote to the approaching winter in
South London.
The return trip that afternoon took in the
(in)famous Poggio climb and descent just outside San Remo. It was a
surprisingly "local" road, no more than a car width wide in
places (that is between the parked cars and wheelie bins). It's hard to
believe a probike race goes up there. The road on the descent is,
thankfully, a bit more regular and organised even if it is wickedly steep
with high granite walls looming above the road at every hairpin.
The next morning started bright if chilly
with a bits of mist hanging around the woods just above the town. The
bikes were loaded into the van and off we went on the hours trip to the
start. Typically it's impossible to park near the centre of town so we
jumped out of the car at the town hall and ran in to register while our
hosts looked for a parking spot.
We made our way to the signing-on desk only
to be told the entries were closed because the race started in 5 mins. (It
turned out later that the start had been brought forward by half and hour
the previous day to try to avoid the thunderr forecast for the afternoon.)
After a bit of pleading and flashing of BC licences, the message got
through and the rules were bent a little to allow us to sign on. All
around the townhall the roads were now filled with cyclists waiting to
start. All we had to do was find the van, assemble the bikes and join in.
A frantic 10mins later we were back on the
road out side the town hall with our bikes but the road was now empty.
Thinking everybody had already left we tore off out the road feeling a bit
uneasy that we were already at the back with no one in sight. 5 mins later
the truth became obvious as the lead cars passed us followed by the lead
group tipping along at well over 30mph, and this was in the supposed
"neutral zone". We kept in to the side of the road to let the
mayhem pass before joining in later with those coming through at a more
sensible pace.
The first hour or two passed quietly
enjoying the sunshine and scenery. It's amazing how a hill or two can take
the jitters out of any cycling group as everyone settled into their
stride. With about 50k done I found myself in a 50 strong group travelling
along the valley floor to the next climb. Imagine my surprise when the
turn off for the hill road came and everyone kept going straight on. I had
forgotten totally about the long and short courses. I had to double back
to the junction and saw two other cyclists heading up the road. "The
lazy b******ds" I thought, as I adjusted my pace to suit the
increasing gradient, 95% of the people here had chosen the short course.
With so few people on the climb I pushed on
more than I would normally, just to see if I could catch anybody going at
a similar pace. It seemed like those who had chosen the long course were
intent on getting their moneys worth and ambled up the hill with no
specific urgency or stress. Near the top of the climb the atmosphere
seemed to change as people prepared for the descent and what a descent. It
was quite a wide road which curverd along below a ridge from the col. For
the next 20k the gradient was a steady 3 or 4 % down. This meant only one
thing, prolonged speed. Groups quickly formed as riders tucked in behind
the good descenders. There was not much recovvery on this section as it
was sometimes a struggle to stay in contact with people much more
accustomed to these types of roads. The effort though was worth it as
descents like this don't come round to often.
The rest of the ride passed without
incident, a few more hills, one with a stupidly steep cartoon-style
gradient, which thankfully didn't last very long.
I arrived back at the finish, one of the
last riders back because of course the "lazy b*****d" short
coursers were already tucking into the post-race pasta and wine that was
laid on in the town square. It did make me wonder about whether I had the
right priorities but then I thought back on the ride I was really glad I
had taken the long option.
I would just like to thank Jo and Aidy for
putting us up and showing us around their new home. Just north of San Remo
they have set up in the Liguria hills on the southern edge of the Alps.
The sea is only a half-hour cycle down the valley and looking further up
the valley, there are hills a plenty and local trails for the mountain
bikers and cols a plenty for the roadies. The area is not in the tourist
spotlight yet but with terrain like this and good travel connections it's
only a matter of time. For more details check out their website on www.rivierabike.co.uk
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