Nebraska Cycling News

Kent McNeill competes in the L'Etape.

Despite being flatlanders from the Midwest in a stage that boasted over 15,000 feet of climbing, with 5 mountain passes over 124 miles, McNeill and Jarrett were able to finish with respectable times.  McNeill finished 129th overall with a time of 7hrs 34minutes while Jarrett finished 683rd with a time of 8hrs 32 minutes coming in just ahead of Greg LeMond who finished 812th in a time of 8 hrs 41 minutes. 

The alarm goes off at 3:45 am.  Sure that’s early, especially when your nerves and excitement have you up and awake until 1am.  We grabbed a quick breakfast of French pastries and coffee and headed out the door.  I started to get a bit nervous when we got stock behind a traveling circus on the way to the start line.  No kidding, here we are at 4:30am driving down narrow winding French roads with a clown sign smiling at us from the back of a bus going extremely slow.  After following them rather close for a few miles, they pulled the caravan over and let us pass. 

Upon arrival into Foix, Steve and I jumped from the bus, pulled our bikes out and arm warmers on and headed down the hill into Foix and past the base of Henry IV’s castle.  We found our way into the start gate with 30 minutes to spare.  This was a blessing as Steve looked down at this front wheel and there was spring sticking out.  He changed the flat quick in the start gate and we anxiously awaited the start.

Our riding partner for the week was a young French rider named David.  David guides for us on our High Gear Travel trips and was selected as a junior to ride with the Cofidis development squad.  Weighing in at near 130lbs soaking wet, he was built for a stage like this.  He climbed the HC climbs of the Tourmalet and Port de’ Bales prior to the race and we had seen his uncanny ability to not only ascend these mountains, but to descend them with speed and a sense of ease that we admired.

As the start gun went off, we worked our way up on the left side of the field quickly.  Starting 2,000 people back meant we had a lot of work to do before the first climb where the road narrowed and we would likely get pinched off from the first group if we had not make it up to the front. 

David lead us, moving effortlessly through the maze of riders.  We approached a climb that was steep and we were able to pass quite a few riders staying on the left side hugging the narrow passageway between the riders and the ditch.  Luckily we avoided flats as this line was not always the cleanest.

We crested over the climb and Steve and I looked at each other and said, “That wasn’t bad, only 4 more categorized climbs to go…”   David laughed at us.  Apparently that was not even a categorized climb and we had yet to make it to the base of the 1st categorized climb, the Col D’Port.

Interestingly enough, Steve and I almost every year, don’t see these little climbs on the course profile.  They catch us off guard and usually are at the end of the ride.  Fortunately for us, this year it was at the start.  This was much easier to handle mentally, needless to say.

We managed to pass a lot of folks on the climbs, but it happens every year, some grey haired French guy comes flying past us on the descents like we are just learning to ride our bikes.  David would disappear and Steve was not far behind him.  I was a bit more timid and would have to chase back 30 seconds or more at the base of each climb.  David was so relaxed he would be descending at 40+mph reading his map with no hands on the bars.  In contrast, I was white knuckled and eyeing each and every corner trying to figure out the best way to set up for the turn. 

The Col D’ Port went by and was tougher than we thought it would be.  There was a long flat section as we headed to the base of the Port D’ Mente.  Steve and I found ourselves at the front of the main pack taking turns pulling.  None of the riders really wanted to work.  Steve and I knew we had 4 more major climbs to go, and so we reluctantly rotated at the front while a handful of riders attacked off and formed a break.  Steve and I decided we would have plenty of time to pull them back on the climbs and so we decided to be content rotating at the front of the main pack.  David looked back and Greg LeMond was riding in our group at this point. 

One of the main attractions of this event is for amateur riders to experience what it is like to race in the Tour De France.  With a closed course of the actual route, Mavic support and fan support lining the climbs, it doesn’t get any closer than being in the TDF yourself.  Looking back and seeing Greg LeMond in your pack, you can have fabulous delusions of your ability if you so desire and no one will burst your bubble.

We came upon the base of the  Col d’ Porte d’ Aspet, a tough climb in it’s own right and a sketchy decent that claimed the life of Fabio Cassertelli of Lance’s early Motorola squad. 

The memorial was a fantastic, but eerie sight, as we rounded the final turns of the descent.  I had to clip one foot out during one of the corners as I went in too hot and at slightly the wrong angle.  The concrete pylons on the edge were enough motivation to go “moto” in the turn and keep it upright. 

Once at the base you roll right into the Col d Mente.  It was a short recovery coming off the Aspet, and my legs felt like they had just enough time to fill with blood.  As I started the Mente I noticed I had pulled away from Steve on the climb and David and I were catching the last of the early break away riders from our group.   I knew Steve was running out of water on the Aspet, and hoped he had found the feed station at the base. I learned after the event, he missed the feed zone there as well as did David and myself.   It was placed in a tough spot as we were rolling 40mph through it and did not see our guys doing the hand ups. 

We all decided we would catch our next feeds at the top of the Mente, but underestimated the heat of the rising son, and the length and difficulty of this climb.  We kept catching riders on the ascent and were dehydrated and tired by the time we reached the feed zone.  I knew we had the HC climb of the Port de Bales coming up next along with the Peyressourde.  I slammed down two bottles of water, filled up my two bottles, grabbed some gel packets and ate a cliff bar as we started down the descent.   David led me and I did my best to keep him in sight.  I lost sight of him by the base, but once we bounced out into the open, I could see him with a group, so I picked up my pace and bridged up to the group.  I had managed to drink another bottle by the base of the decent.

We rode a steady pace going towards the HC climb, and we had another feed zone there.  We came into the feed zone and our guys could not find our bottles, so we had to stop and dig through to find them.  We ended up making some fresh and then jumping back on the course setting out to catch the group we pulled off from. 

I was feeling good and had just snuck half a coke from a spectator as we started the HC climb.  David and I picked up the pace and quickly caught the group on the climb and dropped them.  We set a blistering pace up the climb.  David was drafting me up until the 8K to go mark.  The road kicked up to steady 10-12% climb and we then started climbing side by side.  As we finished the last 3K David started to pull away.  The 130lb body started to show it’s advantage on a long mountain stage.  My 150lb body was starting to really hurt.

We had climbed the Bales two days prior, and it seemed much easier that day.  I looked at my odometer and realized that we would be at 100 miles at the top.  There was one last feed zone there and once we crested the top, David was fueling up, so I did the same and we started the descent to the base of the Peyressourde.

David really pulled away on this one.  I was fatigued and with no barricades on the descent, I quickly realized one false move and I would be a few hundred feet lower on the next switch back.  Thinking how my wife and kids would not be very proud of me coming home in a wheelchair, I backed it off a bit.

By the time I hit the base of the Bales, David was out of sight.  I knew I just needed to get my aching body up this last Cat 1 climb and then I could descend to the finish in Loudenvielle.

Just as I started to climb I felt a slight cramp in my right hamstring.  I was able to raise my cadence and it went away, but I knew I was walking a tight rope as I made my way up the Peyressourde.  At 110 miles into the ride, this climb was more difficult than it looked on paper.  The heat of the day was upon us as well and folks were really starting to suffer.  It was rather quiet going up this final climb.  Everyone was suffering in their own house of pain.  You could see the pain in each pedal stroke as I came upon riders.  I was feeling the same way, but had just enough energy to keep the pace a little higher.   It was painful, because you knew if you passed someone, you could descend to the finish and not get caught, so everyone knew this was really the last chance to gain position.  I passed another rider back and forth several times.  The last time, it took me about 2 km to pass and drop him.  That was a very slow and painful way to drop someone.

As I crested the top, a sense of overwhelming joy knowing I had a 12 km descent to the finish and I could leave this house of pain.  I didn’t care to give up any spots that I had previously earned on the climb, so I descended a bit more aggressively.  I knew Ullrich had gone off course on this descent before, so I still did not go too fast.  45mph was my max on this twisty descent.  Two guys got passed me and as we hit the flats with 3k to go, I picked up the pace and caught back up to them and dropped them.   One more rider was hanging in the distance with 2K to go, and I put my head down and imagined it was he and I racing to the finish of a stage of the Tour De France.    As we came under the 1K to go pyramid (same as they use in the Tour), I caught his wheel.  The crowd was cheering as they saw us round the final corner.  I watched for the 200 meter paint on the road and stood up and gave my best effort at a sprint.  I pulled away from the other rider and for a short surreal moment, felt what it was like to win a stage of the tour. 

That is what this event is all about.  A personal challenge and an amateur’s way to experience the thrill of the Tour de France.   This is what keeps me heading back year after year.  As I rolled through the finish and checked my result, I was shocked.  I had ended up 129th out of 7,000 people riding a stage of the Tour de France.  I learned shortly thereafter that only 60% of the starters finished what is claimed to be the toughest Etape yet.  I checked my Garmin records vs. last years Alpe D’Huez stage.  They were right, we rode 10 more miles and had an additional 1,000 feet of climbing over last years stage.  I was glad just to have finished!

Vinokourov was the winner on the day for this course in this year’s tour.  The leaders did not attack the yellow jersey until just a few kilometers left on the last climb.  Phil Liggett suggested the reason for this, was that the riders were “on the rivet” just riding the tempo pace on this stage and they had nothing left to attack with until the very end.  In the end, Vino slipped away and Contador threw down several attacks too late in the stage. 

I am sure they will appreciate the rest day after this one.  I know I did.  I chose the elevator all day for my 3rd floor accommodations….