Hot, Hilly 'n Heavy

'Pain is weakness leaving the body.'

(One of the most frequently applied motto's in the Waakzame Vingers Assault on the Alpes 2006)

What follows is Part One of the--hopefully exhaustive and
co-authored--coverage of the Alpine exploits of Reno, Le Gitan, Il Boiaⁱ
and Bruco. This report deals with the first challenge: La Vaujany 2006
(Sunday 2 July 2006), from my perspective.

km 0 (Le Verney, Barrage Hydrelec) to km 21,5 (Sechilienne)

Given the circumstances (the long car drive of the day before in our systems,
the porridge still upsetting the stomach, the prospect of clocking 4500
altimetres in the boiling heat, the time chips around our ankles to
remind us of the fact that we were in a hurry), I would say that the
atmosphere at the start was rather relaxed. It wasn't too busy in our
start pen (right behind the 'privileged racers') and we didn't have to
wait too long before the race set off. The stretch to Sechilienne was
supposed to be 'neutralised', but given that it is all downhill and the
peloton feels the pressure to clock a good time, the pace was high. Le
Gitan, Il Boia and I kept in touch and we carefully negotiated our way
to the first climb.

km 21,5 to km 36,2 (Alpe du Grand Serre/La Morte)

Having scouted part of the Vaujany parcours last year with Reno, I knew that
the Alpe du Grand Serre suits me well. It is a nice, regular and fairly
mild climb. 39x25 material most of the way. I took a quick leak
(offloading on the first ascent would be a recurring theme the whole
week) and started overtaking quite a number of diesels, including Le
Gitan and Il Boia. The legs were fine and for the first time I felt
really confident on an uphill. The heart rate monitor (which would
collapse later on) showed a steady mid-D3; cadence was decent.

km 36,2 to km 63 (Valbonnais)

Sweating like an otter, I refilled the bottles and downed a banana at La Morte
(refuelling was paramount: it was well over 35 degrees Celsius). There
were hardly any Oppositionaries around, but I caught up with a grupetto
in the descent to the Valbonnais valley. Beautiful scenery, even if it
flies past you. The grupetto included 'JRacer', whom I 'know' from the
Wielertoerist.nl forum, riding a cool no-name Ti bike. We exchanged
some niceties and tactics, but our ways parted when he skipped the
ravitaillage at Valbonnais (he had a support car along the parcours).
The grupetto disappeared.

km 63 to km 82 (Col d'Ornon)

The southern Ornon ascent on paper is the easiest climb of La Vaujany:
short and not steep. However, I found it to be a bit of a mind f#ck.
Eyeballing a mild gradient, you expect to up the pace and turn a
serious gear. But in actual practice, I was struggling at about 14-18
km/h, which was aggravated by the lack of a cooperative field. On the
summit I happily grabbed one of the water bottles 'on the go' that the
race marshalls were handing out. Great service!

Here's two pictures of Bruco clinging on to an anonymous back wheel:

And here's a snap shot of Bruco descending the Ornon:

km 82 to km 100,6 (La Voute)

After the sensational, but conservately taken, descent from Ornon, the race
continues on the inevitable N91, the main road through the Bourg
d'Oisans valley. The tarmac was nearly melting and Brucopace didn't
come naturally. But as Tradition has it, I did some towing (if only to
counterbalance Chalet host Bryan's stance that 'the Dutch are
wheelsuckers').

km 100,6 to km 110,6 (Villard Reculas)

At La Voute, the parcours again goes up. The climb to Villard Reculas
(which is situated about two-thirds up the Alpe d'Huez) slowly, but
surely knackered me. The heat was getting to me and I lost rhythm. All
the time I was aware of the fact that the gradient allowed for a better
pace than the one I was cranking out. Now people were passing me, and I
didn't have the juice to 'counterattack' the Opposition, with a few
exceptions. The time chip around my ankle and the golden ambition kept
me going, but it didn't look pretty. In Villard Reculas (I dubbed it
'Villard Degulas'), I left the saddle and took a break for a 'bath' and
at least one litre of water, plus two of those disgusting fruit bars.
After about five minutes, Il Boia showed up, looking less wasted and
surely more cheerful than I did. When I decided to 'get on with it', he
enthusiastically followed.

km 110,6 to km 127 (Col de Sarenne)

Il Boia's enthusiasm will have lessened during the next km's, which made
us do a part of the Alpe d'Huez and the Col de Sarenne. A pretty awful
follow-up to the Villard Reculas slaughter, which we had to swallow
individually (Il Boia opting for a slightly more conservative
approach). Okay, the road first nicely curls around a cliff (not
recommended for those who fear heights), and then does a stretch of the
mythical Alpe (turning (very steeply) to the right, however, well
before the Tour finish, and then takes on the Sarenne. But I felt that
it simply took too long. So thought the five, six riders in my
vicinity. Salt and minerals were leaving the body; the awkward
sensation that crept upon me towards Villard Degulas now developed into
outright cramping.

km 127 to km 161,3 (Rochetaillee)

Eventually, I made it to the Sarenne summit. The ca. 12 km descent did not offer a
lot of recovery: the road is in terrible condition: cobbles, worn
asphalt and gravel in the hairpins. Creepy. Glad to have safely made it
back to the N91, and eagerly anticipating pedalling some high RPMⁱ's, I
soloed on. Usually this is a stretch where you step up the pace to,
say, 35-37 km/h, but the cramps didn't allow for more than 32 km/h.
This speed seemed satisfactory to a grupetto of about seven
wheelsuckers (different nationalities), which did not show any
initiative. Only Bettina from Denmark, after apologising for being
wasted, had the guts to do some towing.

km 161,3 to 168,8 (junction D43A to Vaujany)

I would have loved to spend more time with my new found honourable
friend, but the cramps (still there, despite the beloved 90+ RPMs on
the N91) dictated otherwise. At Rochetaillee, I swerved into a camping
site where I threw my wasted pistons into a swimming pool. I figured
that it was a 'customers only' venue, but did not expect much
resistance, given the horrific sight of a fully wasted Bruco going only
on primary instinct. I checked the clock; there was not much time left
for the Brevet d'Or... But the relief of being out of the Sidi's and in
the nice cold water was simply irresistable. I told myself that it
would be just about enough to prevent unforced errors on the last climb
to the finish line/chip mat. We had done the ascent by car on the
previous day; the Vaujany looked and felt like a nasty bastard. It was
waiting there to finish me off...

km 168,8 to 173,5 (Vaujany, arrivee!)

Back on the bike, I started punching the computer (the heart rate monitor
had meanwhile given up on me). This goldrush would be very, very tight.
With the last bit of brain power left, I established that there were 44
minutes left, which meant that I was to produce 8,8 km/h (supressing
cramps and not committing unforced errors). Once the Vaujany climb
started, I dug deep. Sick in the stomach, dizzy and feverish in the
head, weak in the legs. Stuff it, it was going to work!

Here you can see Bruco digging deep:

After a couple of hairpins, I spotted the familiar Peugeot checkerboard
jersey: Il Boia must have passed me during my 'reanimation' at the
piscine and now was slowly digesting the last km's. That was a sign of
encouragement. I kept on Suffering up, telling myself that hills always
seem steeper from a car than from the saddle, keeping a close eye on
the clock, ignoring the urge to stop and give in to the pain. At one
point, I noticed that it took me less than 10 minutes to grind my way
up to the x-km to y-km to the summit signs. Even though those minutes
seemed like an eternity, I knew that there wouldn't be too many of them.

When I finally crossed the finish line, there were 00:05:49 minutes left.
Close call. I zigzagged towards Il Boia, sat down next to him and
collapsed. Never have I felt so exhausted after a ride. A couple of
speechless minutes, some tears (I told you I was out of myself), and
recovery could begin. Once we could walk again, Il Boia and yours truly
hit a terrace and pain killers (i.e. alcoholic beverages). Not much
later, Le Gitan crossed the finish line and joined the celebration.
Reno, however, would not make it all the way to Vaujany, as we
were--and you are--to find out later.

Excellent ride!!! Helmets
off to Il Boia for his second Brevet d'Or and the Nr.1 Vinger Spot in
La Vaujany! Congratulations to Le Gitan for riding his first ever
Alpine cyclo in style. And a 'great effort' goes to Reno, too.

The Results:

1 ROUX MICHEL E Homme de 40 a 49 ans 05 h 51 mn 41 ss
2 LAINE CHRISTOPHE D Homme de 30 a 39 ans 05 h 52 mn 22 ss
3 BILLOT BENJAMIN C Homme de 18 a 29 ans 05 h 53 mn 46 ss
...
183 BOIA IL D Homme de 30 a 39 ans 08 h 03 mn 35 ss
...
186 BRUCO D Homme de 30 a 39 ans 08 h 05 mn 11 ss
...
255 GITAN LE D Homme de 30 a 39 ans 09 h 35 mn 18 ss
...
273 ROGY FRANCIS E Homme de 40 a 49 ans 10 h 25 mn 40 ss

The Data:

Brevet (d'Or): 08:05:11; 'moyenne' 21,76 km/h
DST 177,78 km; TM 07:37:20; AVSⁱ 23,3 km/h; MAX 68,8 km/h; AVGCAD 74.
No HR data, because the monitor blew up. But there was a lot of D3 going on.