Day 6

More croissants, cereal, yogurt, orange juice and coffee consumed in the courtyard of this mornings hotel. I got chatting to Ceri who was asking about the blog and how it was going. Sometimes it can be slow and the days events are not always captured that evening because, by the time we roll into town, get our rooms sorted out, shower, recover, rub cream into the undercarriage to prevent the onslaught of saddle sores, get briefed and eat the evening meal, I am knackered and eventually run out of time. We discussed the benefits of the blog as a permanent record for all of the group should they wish to read it and reminisce. Also there is the benefit of linking other charitable causes other than my own, so Ceri asked me to link his JustGiving page into the blog as he is riding for The Royal Marines Charity, hoping to raise a total of £1200 for which he is 95% complete. The link to donate is as follows:

https://www.justgiving.com/fundraising/ceri-davies24

If the Sun God was particularly wicked to us for yesterdays long day in the saddle, then the Wind and Rain Gods thought it their turn to get in on the act today. It started spitting rain just as we set off however it still felt like it would be a pleasant day. Once we started the first climb, things would get wetter and windier the further we climbed. Because things did not appear to be too bad at the first peddle stroke, most (if not all) riders were clothed in short sleeved jerseys and gilets. Quite a mistake, as the further we got to the summit, the more miserable we felt. There was a group of five in my group including Brian, Dean, Aaron, Jason and myself. We worked together, taking turns on the front to keep the relentless struggle of riding against the wind and ever increasing rain. I was taking less and less interest in the views on offer, concentrating only on reaching the top, where refreshments would be served by our ever eager and friendly support group. As it happens, the only place for them to stop was about 4Km from the summit, but to see them and the ensueing rest was welcoming. The climb in question was the Col de Port which is 15.5Km long and an average gradient of  6%. It took one and a half hours to climb in the constant precipitation and wind. I can safely say that this was NOT one of my favourite climbs. At the refreshment stop, I was soon frozen once the pedalling had ceased.

Jason forcing a smile at Col de Port

It had stopped raining by the time that I started to warm up and decide to climb the rest of the Col and then descend it. I put on my overshoes, rain jacket, armwarmers, long fingered autumn gloves and neck over. If it was cold getting to the top, then it was a sure fire bet that it was going to be even colder on the way down.The road for the descent was wet and made even more slippery because of the cow mess and I found myself taking more care than normal, trying to avoid that seconds lack of concentration in the conditions. I soon passed Jonathan who looked as if the cold had bitten into him, as he gingerly took each bend in a controlled and very deliberate manner.

There was hardly any respite before we would be hitting our next climb of the day. I cycled through a small town torwards a square, where a woman was stood atop a soapbox preaching something to a very small gathering. All of a sudden, out of the corner of my eye, I saw Neil frantically waving directions to me. This was just as well because I had no idea which narrow lane to take from the square, and would have probably chosen the wrong option. The directions that he gave led me to Col de Agnes. If the previous Col was my least favourite climb, then this one was the complete opposite. It was stunning in every sense. The road was completely closed in by trees and greenery with a fast running stream that sped down between rocks on my right, while I steadily climbed on it's left. At the foot of the Col there were houses and dwellings that looked as if they had not been modernised for centuries. Old Renault and Peugeot cars rusted outside some of these dwellings and a small van was covered in undergrowth on the edge of the left hand side of the road. I wondered whether it had crashed or broken down in the 1950s and just left there, or whether it had been used to follow the Tour de France and forgotten about. Very small farmers or hunters huts made of stone laid atop of one another dotted the landscape. Pink heathers and different mosses grew on the rocks, and there were clumps of lilac scabious and other wild flowers in abundance. I was starting to think that this was my utopia. I passed a couple of enclosures in the rock that had effigies of what I presumed to be the Lady Madonna surrounded by candles and on my right I passed a crucifix of Christ as the stream still babbled away in the distance behind him.

 If the wide mountainous vistas of the previous days climbings were stunning, this Col just gave more to the senses. I had the sense of riding in nature untouched, the smell of the earthy dampness, the colours of the vegetation, the sounds of the birds and running water and the sense that this had remained the same way for hundreds of years past. It did not seem to be a particularly long or strenuous climb. I gradually pedalled to meet Richard who was cycling with John, one of the tour guides from AQR. We were greeted by a herd of bulls who were being looked after by a farm hand who appeared from a hut, who gave us a cheerful greeting in his flip-flops. Richard and I again rode to the top of the Col, as we had done so on at least one previous occasion.

For those of you who have been interested in the statistics of our climbs, Col de Agnes was a 11.6Km climb with an average gradient of 6%. The gain in elevation was 653 metres and is classified on Strava as a Category One climb. To explain categories: *When the mountains classification in the Tour de France originated in 1933 , there was only one type of mountain categorisation. Points were given to the first cyclists to cross the mountains, starting with 10 points for the first cyclist, going down to 1 point for the tenth cyclist. After the Second World War, the mountains were divided into two categories. The first category mountains gave 10 points to the first cyclist, similar to before 1939, and the second category mountains gave only 5 points to the first cyclist. The division in categories was successful, and two years later a third category was added. These were even smaller mountains, which gave 3 points to the cyclist reaching the peak first.In 1962, the fourth category was added. In 1979, four categories was considered not enough, and another category was added. Instead of adding a fifth category, the Tour organisation decided to add a hors catégorie, which is a French term used to designate a climb that is "beyond categorization". The term was originally used for those mountain roads where cars were not expected to be able to pass.

When we got back to our hotel Jonathan asked the group who they thought was the overall best climber. Without hesitation, eveyone agreed that it was Paul who had shown beyond doubt that this accolade was his over the five days. Paul was presented with a small victory trophy of a cyclist astride his bicycle.

*Some parts taken from Wikipedia