L'Etape du Tour

Etape du Tour, 6^th July, 2008 - written by Andrew Slade

I had always ridden my bike as a child, 5 miles to school and back, then 13 miles to my first job and home late at night.  I was fortunate to grow up in an area where traffic was limited, and the pace of cars slow and respectful.  Growing up I was fascinated by the Tour de France, my first real memories were of Miguel Indurain equalling the record of 5 victories and then subsequently failing to win his 6^th.  I would rush home to watch the highlights.  A few years later I got hooked by the Lance Armstrong story and that’s where, like many people, my love for cycling (and the tour) really grew.  Although his story is now tainted by the reality that the constant denial of cheating was proven a lie, we still have to be grateful that his legacy brought cycling into the popular and televised sport that it is today.  I’ll come back to Lance later. 

In 2007 I was playing amateur rugby, a 16+ stone backrow forward with a passion for tackling hard and stealing the ball in rucks, I was fast, powerful and very difficult to move once locked onto a ball winning opportunity.  However, age was getting the better of me, and following a recovery from a knee injury I started to find it harder to get back to fitness and with a change of job coming I decided it was time to call a halt to my rugby playing days. 

The idea of the Etape du Tour, a chance to ride the same roads as my childhood and current hero’s, was first given to me by one of my customers who’d just failed in his first attempt because of the soaring heat and high mountains.  In my interview for my job in a general discussion about hobbies we somehow got onto the discussion of the Etape.  The hiring manager had just completed it, but one of his colleague had crashed and wanted to return to complete it the following year.  In a presumptive close, I said if you hire me then I’ll do the Etape with him. 

I was hired for the job, and didn’t think much more about it for a month or two until the Christmas party when I was introduced to Chad, a superbly fit (also rugby loving) South African sales manager, ‘Andy, Let me introduce you to Chad, he’s the chap you’re going to do the Etape with’.  That was it, no going back, I had to enter and accept the challenge.

 Now my new job took me to Boston for two weeks for a training course.  The problem with training courses in America is that you eat all day, and not healthy snacks.  Full fat coke, coffee, Hershey Bars etc.  I put on a stone in 2 weeks, weight I knew I couldn’t afford to have for the Etape.  I returned home in mid-January and set about planning my attack on the Etape, finishing was my only goal but I knew I had to lose the weight.

The biggest worry was the cut off time of 10Hr 30mins. I knew I needed to be quick, but also to  have endurance. I set a hard training plan to increase my endurance every weekend and speed work during the week, using the Etape du Dales as a pre-race trial event. 

The 2008 Etape was from Pau to Hautacam, via Lourdes and the Tourmalet.  Chad and I travelled down to the Pyrenees by car, sharing the driving and control of the music(!). We did our pre-race check in on the Saturday and following dinner tried to get some sleep.  The air was really humid, and a massive thunderstorm in the night meant I slept very little.  The Sunday came and we woke early for Breakfast, then into a car to collect our bikes.  We rode about 10km to the start line in the pouring rain, my legs felt like jelly, my stomach was in nervous knots, and even though the preceding nights rainstorm was continuing, I was super excited.  As we lined up in our assigned pen I could see the broom wagon busses pull up.  I thought this was very cruel to tease us with the thought of what failure would be.  Then pen by pen we set off, we were unleashed like a pack of hunting dogs, flying through the streets of Pau at over 25mph, my legs felt alive and I was flying.

We hit the first cat 3 climb at Labatmale, a fairly steady and shortish climb to warm the legs up, I felt really good, not really needing the small chain ring and once over we headed on the straight roads to Lourdes.  Lourdes would be about the halfway mark.  The course was 103 miles, and in the first 50 we just had to tackle the single cat 3 climb.  The course had a real sting in the tail including the slightly harder but still cat 3 Loucrup climb.  We then hit the town Campan and for those who know the area, you start the steady ascent to the foot of the Tourmalet to a town called St Marie de Campan, famous for rider Eugene Christophe re-welding his forks only to be given a time penalty for getting assistance. As St Marie, I stopped to take off my rain jacket as did an Irish man who I’d been chatting to from Campan up through the valley. 

Now things were getting serious, I had the Tourmalet and the final ascent up the Hautacam climb to finish with.  I set off following the Irish rider up the lower road of the Tourmalet, as we reached the first waterfall I could already see riders were starting to struggle, I kept my target man in sight.  The first big hairpin is a big right-hand turn, I took the outside line to lessen the gradient and passed my Irish friend shortly after, I was still feeling ok, getting myself into the rhythm of the climb.  Riders were passing me, I was passing others but I felt ok as we entered the first snow shelter tunnel. My Irish friend past me again so I desperately tried not to lose the gap, again I passed him.  This went on back and forth until we got to the feed station in La Mongie, a ski station 4km from the summit.  Skiing is my other passion and it was nice to be in a ski resort.  I could barely make out the ski lifts because of the low cloud and drizzle.   The temperature in la Mongie was cold so I put on my rain jacket and my new Irish friend and I headed off into the mist to tackle the final 4km of the climb.  As we neared the summit a camera person got a photo of us both:

Rider number7098 and I finished the Tourmalet climb  together.  I stopped to take a photo and tried to call my  parents who were somewhere on the course watching the  race.  My Irish friend disappeared off into the freezing cold  mist down the mountain.    After a couple of photos and an  unsuccessful phone call, I zipped up my jacket and started  to roll down the mountain.  I’d never ridden up a Col before and was just as nervous about the descent as well.  The rain, mist and freezing cold didn’t help.  I’d prepared for scorching temperatures, not 2 degrees at the summit.  The higher sections were steep, wet and scary so I took my time.  More experienced riders bombed past me.  I think the fact I couldn’t see where the road edges went too because of the mist made the descent even scarier.  As I got further down the mountain the roads dried and opened a little and I let the bike roll down much faster and as I got towards the village of Luz St Saveur I was in a nice group of about 6 riders flying through the town, hearing the crowds cheer.  I didn’t realise my parents were there trying to pick me out of the 9000 riders as I flew with my group through the village and down through the valley towards the foot of the final climb.

Like the Tourmalet, the Hautacam was a HC categories climb, and although shorter, the varying gradients and fatigue in the legs, back and arms were going to make this a much tougher climb.  I used the feed station to fill up my bidons knowing even though it was cold I was still sweating and the sun was starting to come out a bit.  We entered into a small village at the foot of the climb and the crowds were 4 deep cheering on every rider, I had a tear in my eye as I rode through the crowd, I knew I was well inside the time limit and it was only if my body allowed it would I finish.  I turned the corner and started the climb, riders again flew by me knowing there was just a short 14km to the finish.  Those 14km were my most painful on a bike ever.  The fatigue from the Tourmalet and the stiffening of my legs and back on the descent meant my body was starting to really hurt.  My back was so sore I had to ride out the saddle to ease the pain, but my legs hurt so much that I had to ride seated.  I battled riding in the saddle and out, my face grimacing in pain.  The only satisfaction was that some of the riders who’d passed me at the foot of the climb were now paying the price for their efforts and were walking.  Time for a bit of Lance Armstrong.  No I didn’t take EPO or any other illegal substance, but I kept saying to myself ‘The pain will go as soon as you are at the top, if you quit the pain will stay with you forever’.  So, in true Jens Voigt style I told my legs to ‘shut up’ and concentrated on each peddle and each Km.  As I passed under the Flamme Rouge I knew I was going to make it, even if my bike was to break I knew I had time to carry it to the top.  The pain disappeared from my body. I looked up and could see the finish line, just two more corners, one more corner and a very slow sprint finish to beat the rider closest to me.  I stopped the clock in 8hours 36, well inside the time limit.  I collected my finishers medal and phoned my parents to find out where they were. 

Upon hearing my voice my Dad cried because he was certain, having watched every single rider pass him on the road and not having seen me, that I had crashed! He was firstly delighted I was ok and secondly amazed that I was already at the finish. 

I queued up with the other successful riders to start the cold but joyous descent down to the finish village, I called Chad who was still a couple of KM’s away from finishing.  Just before I started my descent Chad crossed the line.   I rode down with all the confidence of pro and waited for Chad to make the descent down before we had a celebratory meal at the finisher’s village. 

My first son was just 8 months when I did the Etape.  11 years later I returned to the Tourmalet, with my 12 and 10 year old sons.  On a family holiday I first rode up the Tourmalet with my 12 year old, then a few days later I did the same climb with my 10 year old.  We started each climb in the famous St Marie de Campan via La Mongie ski resort up to the summit. I was more proud on each of those climbs than when I first did it as a novice rider years before in the Etape.  It was wonderful to share the same road with the boys, the only downside was that they made their first time up a Col look much easier than I did those 11 years earlier.