The Pimple of Provence

 

Mont Ventoux towers over Provence and from a distance appears to be snow-capped. In actual fact the upper sloped are sun-bleached rocks that result in the description of a lunar landscape.

 

I have been aware of the importance of Ventoux in the world of cycling since when I first started riding in the mid 80's. Most famously it is known as the mountain on which British cyclist Tom Simpson died during the Tour de France in 1967. He had previously been World Champion as well as BBC Sports Personality of the Year and was competing in Le Tour with a genuine chance of overall victory. Sadly a combination of ill-health, extreme temperatures, dehydration and amphetamine use saw his collapse just before the summit and despite medical treatment on the mountain and a helicopter to hospital he was pronounced dead adding further to the legend of the mountain.

 

 

My own ascent started from Bedoin in the company of John Myburgh and Mike Evans. I was able to sit on their wheels through the lower slopes and part way through the steeper wooded section before a lack of fitness and breathing difficulties saw me sit up and take things at my own pace. Exiting the woods and riding the barren moonscape of the upper slopes was an emotional experience - knowing that I was riding in the tyre-tracks of legends and heroes gave me goosebumps. Riding past the Simpson monument I chose not to stop, but decided that once I had summited I would ride back down to pay my respects. To be fair after a very tough 19km climb to then descend the steeper last kilometre or so to have a picture taken and then ride back up wasn't perhaps the most sensible choice, but it still felt like the right thing to do.

 

Mike had made the climb in 1hr 34 to my 1hr 43 and so I can't be too disappointed.

 

 

The descent off Ventoux to Malaucene was ridiculously quick and I was grateful for the large display of the Garmin 1030 I had borrowed from The Green Jersey in Clitheroe. With the route displayed in front of you it was possible to judge which corners needed to need the brakes and those straights that were long enough to be brave and let go. One of these moments resulted in a 54mph maximum speed - plenty quick enough when the only other options for deceleration involve the use of skin and lycra.

 

Having stopped for lunch in Malaucene we rode on to Saint Jalle via the cheeky Col d'Ey which for something I'd never heard of represented another good challenge and took our shortest day of 52 miles to a fairly ridiculous 7,900 feet of climbing.

 

As usual the Colnago V1-R performed flawlessly, as did the matching example of Graham Elleray. The two of them look happy in each other's company in the picture below ...