Left and bottom: The results of the bee sting ...
Rapha (ruined) racing
6 years ago
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
And ... to top it all off ...
OK, why would this adventure NOT end like this? We arrive in Minneapolis yesterday and, in order to pass through customs, you need to do the pre-requisite passport check, but you also need to collect all your checked luggage and recheck it as it's your first stop in America. We get through passport (they didn't ask me if I had "anything to declare" so I couldn't give them the comment I had rehearsed ... "I declare that I will never drive a motor home in France again." Dang. Anyway, we went to get our luggage and ... none. Not one piece of luggage made it. Dave's bike box and three pieces of checked luggage. Nowhere to be found. Great ...
Couldn't do anything about it there, so we head on to Green Bay where we were exhuberantly greeted by my dad and Aunt Windy. Yes, I kissed the ground, too, glad to be home. But again, no luggage. Yeah, I think the luggage decided to spend another day in Europe!
So, here we sit ... no luggage save for the carryons (thankfully, I kept all the camera, laptop and other electronics with me). We have to leave early today (Tuesday) for Omaha, so they're going to have to fly everything to Omaha. This will be fun. Stay tuned for how quickly it takes to get everything!!
Like I said before, why WOULDN'T it end like this!??
- Julie
Couldn't do anything about it there, so we head on to Green Bay where we were exhuberantly greeted by my dad and Aunt Windy. Yes, I kissed the ground, too, glad to be home. But again, no luggage. Yeah, I think the luggage decided to spend another day in Europe!
So, here we sit ... no luggage save for the carryons (thankfully, I kept all the camera, laptop and other electronics with me). We have to leave early today (Tuesday) for Omaha, so they're going to have to fly everything to Omaha. This will be fun. Stay tuned for how quickly it takes to get everything!!
Like I said before, why WOULDN'T it end like this!??
- Julie
Monday, July 27, 2009
Read 'em all
We just posted about 7 stages, so if you've read through the trip to Switzerland, scroll down through the blogs and read backwards to keep our adventure in order!! More when we get another connection! We're in Nice at the airport, ready to fly home and face the credit card company.
- Julie & Dave
- Julie & Dave
Top 10 Mo-Ho Moments
10. Dave and I get into Marseilles a bit late and finally find a pizza/pasta joint that’s still open at 9 p.m. After dinner, we decide to camp overnight in a nearby shopping center parking lot. We place ourselves in the most remote corner, next to a store, but are kept awake part of the night by a bar scene in an area of the shopping mall. We finally fall asleep between 2 and 3 a.m. only to be awakened at 6:30 a.m. by a semi that pulls up right next to us to unload his truck into the store that we’re parked beside. Oh, and the guy was whistling as he took his dolly up and down and up and down the ramp!!
9. Worse, the night we had to drop Freddy off for his bus in Tarbes, we decide to camp out in the bus station parking lot since his bus left at 2:30 a.m. At about midnight, a group of soldiers arrive to also wait for a bus. They were so loud we didn’t really need to worry about falling asleep and not getting Freddy out of the mo-ho in time! Thankfully, they left on the same bus as Fred.
8. Gerry and I rename a town to Rhode-Rage after we try every road to get out of it except the correct one. The GPS saves us when it points us toward this teeny, tiny, out-of-the-way road with a teeny, tiny, out-of-the-way sign pointing us finally in the right direction.
7. In another battle of “where do we go,” Gerry and I take a 20 km error out of our way. Unfortunately, when we each finally got that “I don’t think this is right” feeling, we were on a very narrow one-lane road leading up a mountain with no turnaround in sight. We finally found one and worked our way back to civilization.
6. Gerry and I decide to inadvertently take the "non-scenic" route, which included a very, very long tunnel through the Col du Grand Bernard, which cost us valuable time in meeting Dave at the top (we had to come back the opposite way) and 30 Euros, because they're still paying off the loan on the damn thing!
5. Just in general, we can’t even list – or count – the number of laws that we broke in the mo-ho. In particular, going the wrong way on a one-way street, doing U-turns (the mo-ho turns on a dime!), and pretending that we don’t understand what the road signs say, especially if they indicate that trucks aren’t allowed!
4. Freddy decides to take on a pylon going 80 km/h. Only later did we learn that he left a bit of the mo-ho behind.
3. Dave picks up Gerry in Toulouse, we stop to fill up with gas and a quick lunch and get on our way to Issoudun only to have the mo-ho give us some serious trouble. No acceleration!! We call a contact at the dealership and he says to turn around and get to their post in Toulouse. We discover there that Dave filled the mo-ho with a lunch of gasoline rather than diesel! A second forced rest day ensued. Thankfully they were able to repair quickly and didn’t have to replace the engine! What a way to welcome Gerry.
2. I, in my first and last moments as a Mo-ho driver, take a right when I should have taken a left around a roundabout and winds up with the mo-ho hung up on a curb. Only the help of four French men and the town Gendarmerie could get me out of this snafu. One man graciously takes the wheel, the Gendarmerie directs traffic, which is now at a standstill in this little town, and Dave – thankfully- pulls up on his bike. He takes over the driving on that day. The mo-ho was never the same after that … especially the metal step, which never again went down!
1. Gerry decides to take us out to dinner in a quaint little village near Bedoin that he knows about from a previous visit. The village, and its roads, is tiny!! We finally get parked and Gerry discovers that, since we have no reservation, they’re full. Little did we know how personally he would take it and he tries to drive right through the outdoor seating and down what we now know is a pedestrian path. Lessons in backing up large vehicles paid off for Gerry that evening, but I decided that I needed a lot of alcohol that evening!!
9. Worse, the night we had to drop Freddy off for his bus in Tarbes, we decide to camp out in the bus station parking lot since his bus left at 2:30 a.m. At about midnight, a group of soldiers arrive to also wait for a bus. They were so loud we didn’t really need to worry about falling asleep and not getting Freddy out of the mo-ho in time! Thankfully, they left on the same bus as Fred.
8. Gerry and I rename a town to Rhode-Rage after we try every road to get out of it except the correct one. The GPS saves us when it points us toward this teeny, tiny, out-of-the-way road with a teeny, tiny, out-of-the-way sign pointing us finally in the right direction.
7. In another battle of “where do we go,” Gerry and I take a 20 km error out of our way. Unfortunately, when we each finally got that “I don’t think this is right” feeling, we were on a very narrow one-lane road leading up a mountain with no turnaround in sight. We finally found one and worked our way back to civilization.
6. Gerry and I decide to inadvertently take the "non-scenic" route, which included a very, very long tunnel through the Col du Grand Bernard, which cost us valuable time in meeting Dave at the top (we had to come back the opposite way) and 30 Euros, because they're still paying off the loan on the damn thing!
5. Just in general, we can’t even list – or count – the number of laws that we broke in the mo-ho. In particular, going the wrong way on a one-way street, doing U-turns (the mo-ho turns on a dime!), and pretending that we don’t understand what the road signs say, especially if they indicate that trucks aren’t allowed!
4. Freddy decides to take on a pylon going 80 km/h. Only later did we learn that he left a bit of the mo-ho behind.
3. Dave picks up Gerry in Toulouse, we stop to fill up with gas and a quick lunch and get on our way to Issoudun only to have the mo-ho give us some serious trouble. No acceleration!! We call a contact at the dealership and he says to turn around and get to their post in Toulouse. We discover there that Dave filled the mo-ho with a lunch of gasoline rather than diesel! A second forced rest day ensued. Thankfully they were able to repair quickly and didn’t have to replace the engine! What a way to welcome Gerry.
2. I, in my first and last moments as a Mo-ho driver, take a right when I should have taken a left around a roundabout and winds up with the mo-ho hung up on a curb. Only the help of four French men and the town Gendarmerie could get me out of this snafu. One man graciously takes the wheel, the Gendarmerie directs traffic, which is now at a standstill in this little town, and Dave – thankfully- pulls up on his bike. He takes over the driving on that day. The mo-ho was never the same after that … especially the metal step, which never again went down!
1. Gerry decides to take us out to dinner in a quaint little village near Bedoin that he knows about from a previous visit. The village, and its roads, is tiny!! We finally get parked and Gerry discovers that, since we have no reservation, they’re full. Little did we know how personally he would take it and he tries to drive right through the outdoor seating and down what we now know is a pedestrian path. Lessons in backing up large vehicles paid off for Gerry that evening, but I decided that I needed a lot of alcohol that evening!!
Home again, home again
Well, we made it. Dave’s performance was nothing less than awesome. My performance as navigator … awe-inspiring (awwww, look at the puppy; awww, look at the sheep and cows; awwww, listen to the cow bells!!!). Dave couldn’t say it any better – we experienced a lot during this trip, learned a lot during this trip, discovered a lot (including small towns that aren’t on any map and small roads that Mo-hos should NOT be on).
We spent our last three days in Bedoin. It’s a quaint little town that was incredibly fun. It was filled to the brim with bikers of all ages, shapes and sizes – all either attempting to climb Mont Ventoux or just seeing if they could pick up chicks in their spandex. We drove Gerry to Nice on Wednesday and, upon getting trapped in traffic by the airport and finding absolutely no place to park the Mo-ho overnight, decided it would be best to say our good-byes to Gerry at a hotel near the airport that had a shuttle for him the next morning and make our way out of the city. Not fully knowing where we were headed (only OUT of the chaos called Nice), we set the wheels to the pavement, started back toward Mont Ventoux and didn’t stop until we reached Bedoin around 9 that night. We actually parked in the same camping ground that we stayed the evening before, which turned out to be extremely convenient (a 5-minute walk to town), quiet and peaceful. We went into town, had dinner and wine and settled in for the evening.
Dave rode around the area, checking things out. He came home feeling great. I did, too. I was able to go into town and shop while he rode. Yee-hah! We decided to rent a bike for me for Friday so I, too, could enjoy the area. He threatened to take me up the mountain. I threatened another panic attack, followed by a heart attack!
Friday dawned HOT. Regardless, we went and got my rented bike – a Giant with a triple chain ring (granny gears!!). Perfect! Off we went. Did I mention how out of shape I am … no? Well, halfway through the ride, I thought I was going to keel over and die!!! Luckily, I have a very patient husband who stopped and poured water over my head. That revived me enough to get back home. Thankfully, it was also downhill to get home!! He, of course, had plenty of energy, so he went out and did a mere 75km around the area. I returned the bike and … went shopping!
Saturday – RACE DAY!! Dave decided he needed to climb Mont Ventoux yet again. Will this ever end?? He got up early and rode up, meeting and riding up with a guy from Denver who kept good pace with Dave. He got down in time to meet me to watch the caravan that precedes the racers. I don’t know how many of you have seen, or even know about the parade of sponsors that come before the racers, but there’s a parade of about an hour of vans, cars, “floats” and motorcycles who throw out everything from caps to keychains, musette bags to t-shirts. FDJ (a team) even threw out a few jerseys. We were lucky enough to score a couple of things, but I had to trample the little kid next to me to get them. The kid was ruthless!!!! Then, along come the racers. A breakaway group of about 9, then the pelaton with Lance, Alberto and Co., followed by the rest of the riders. They were there … then they were gone. In a matter of about 15 minutes, all that we waited for was over. We, along with the rest of the fans, rushed into town to the three or four TVs set up near bars to watch Tony Martin and Juan Manuel Garate duke it out to the top in an exciting finish not to be outdone by the cat-and-mouse game put on by the Schleck brothers, Contador and Lance. Outstanding and so exciting to be there. Race done, we got some food, beer and then I shopped some more … J
Sunday, our final day, Dave decided to … what else? Climb Mont Ventoux again. This time, he found the north route and rode up that way. He arrived back at the Mo-ho with a huge smile on his face. That’s what it’s all about!! He was feeling great, relaxed and full of satisfaction! It took a few days to sink in, but he now was extremely happy with his accomplishment. We packed up and started back to Nice. Which is where we sit … in a rest area about 25 minutes from where we return out Moho-away-from-home tomorrow (Monday). I must admit, I’m excited to be getting back home. We miss our kids, our dogs, our family, the phone calls, our friends. We’ve had such a great time and experienced so much, it’s just not possible to write it all in this blog. We can’t wait to share (bore?) everyone with out pictures, memories, mementoes, etc. We are so thankful for all of your support – especially during the uncertainty that was the first week-and-a-half. We can’t believe how fortunate we are to have friends like Fred and Gerry, who both stepped in to save this venture with little notice. And to our family and friends who never stopped encouraging and supporting, without you, this trip wouldn’t have been possible.
We’ll have more to post when we get back to the States, so watch for pictures and the “aftermath.”
-Julie
We spent our last three days in Bedoin. It’s a quaint little town that was incredibly fun. It was filled to the brim with bikers of all ages, shapes and sizes – all either attempting to climb Mont Ventoux or just seeing if they could pick up chicks in their spandex. We drove Gerry to Nice on Wednesday and, upon getting trapped in traffic by the airport and finding absolutely no place to park the Mo-ho overnight, decided it would be best to say our good-byes to Gerry at a hotel near the airport that had a shuttle for him the next morning and make our way out of the city. Not fully knowing where we were headed (only OUT of the chaos called Nice), we set the wheels to the pavement, started back toward Mont Ventoux and didn’t stop until we reached Bedoin around 9 that night. We actually parked in the same camping ground that we stayed the evening before, which turned out to be extremely convenient (a 5-minute walk to town), quiet and peaceful. We went into town, had dinner and wine and settled in for the evening.
Dave rode around the area, checking things out. He came home feeling great. I did, too. I was able to go into town and shop while he rode. Yee-hah! We decided to rent a bike for me for Friday so I, too, could enjoy the area. He threatened to take me up the mountain. I threatened another panic attack, followed by a heart attack!
Friday dawned HOT. Regardless, we went and got my rented bike – a Giant with a triple chain ring (granny gears!!). Perfect! Off we went. Did I mention how out of shape I am … no? Well, halfway through the ride, I thought I was going to keel over and die!!! Luckily, I have a very patient husband who stopped and poured water over my head. That revived me enough to get back home. Thankfully, it was also downhill to get home!! He, of course, had plenty of energy, so he went out and did a mere 75km around the area. I returned the bike and … went shopping!
Saturday – RACE DAY!! Dave decided he needed to climb Mont Ventoux yet again. Will this ever end?? He got up early and rode up, meeting and riding up with a guy from Denver who kept good pace with Dave. He got down in time to meet me to watch the caravan that precedes the racers. I don’t know how many of you have seen, or even know about the parade of sponsors that come before the racers, but there’s a parade of about an hour of vans, cars, “floats” and motorcycles who throw out everything from caps to keychains, musette bags to t-shirts. FDJ (a team) even threw out a few jerseys. We were lucky enough to score a couple of things, but I had to trample the little kid next to me to get them. The kid was ruthless!!!! Then, along come the racers. A breakaway group of about 9, then the pelaton with Lance, Alberto and Co., followed by the rest of the riders. They were there … then they were gone. In a matter of about 15 minutes, all that we waited for was over. We, along with the rest of the fans, rushed into town to the three or four TVs set up near bars to watch Tony Martin and Juan Manuel Garate duke it out to the top in an exciting finish not to be outdone by the cat-and-mouse game put on by the Schleck brothers, Contador and Lance. Outstanding and so exciting to be there. Race done, we got some food, beer and then I shopped some more … J
Sunday, our final day, Dave decided to … what else? Climb Mont Ventoux again. This time, he found the north route and rode up that way. He arrived back at the Mo-ho with a huge smile on his face. That’s what it’s all about!! He was feeling great, relaxed and full of satisfaction! It took a few days to sink in, but he now was extremely happy with his accomplishment. We packed up and started back to Nice. Which is where we sit … in a rest area about 25 minutes from where we return out Moho-away-from-home tomorrow (Monday). I must admit, I’m excited to be getting back home. We miss our kids, our dogs, our family, the phone calls, our friends. We’ve had such a great time and experienced so much, it’s just not possible to write it all in this blog. We can’t wait to share (bore?) everyone with out pictures, memories, mementoes, etc. We are so thankful for all of your support – especially during the uncertainty that was the first week-and-a-half. We can’t believe how fortunate we are to have friends like Fred and Gerry, who both stepped in to save this venture with little notice. And to our family and friends who never stopped encouraging and supporting, without you, this trip wouldn’t have been possible.
We’ll have more to post when we get back to the States, so watch for pictures and the “aftermath.”
-Julie
Mission Accomplished!! Mont Ventoux
Stage 20 Recap: Mont Ventoux
I may have mentioned that when Greg Lemond won the Tour in 1989 by just 8 seconds in a come-from-behind victory on the final day of the race over his rival, Frenchman Laurent Fignon, I became captivated by this event. I have spent countless hours every July since tuned in to whatever TV or Internet coverage was available to track the progress of the race and the eventual winners. Lemond, three times a winner in ‘86, ‘89 and ‘90, and Lance Armstrong the seven-times champion from 1999-2005, have put the race a bit into the mainstream of American consciousness. Of course, for the Europeans, bike racing, and this race in particular, are the basis of legends, holidays and national pride. People of all ages, shapes and sizes come out of their homes, fields and businesses to catch just a glimpse of the tour riders as they make their way around France. The Grand Boucle (Big Circle) follows a different course each year but always finds a way to captivate the interest of cyclists from around the globe. We all probably have fantasized about being someone or something we are not. Surprise, surprise, I have imagined that being a professional bike racer in the Tour de France peloton would be the pinnacle of the sport. Funny thing happened on the way to turning 50 this year - I couldn’t shake the fantasy so I finally decided that the next best thing was to just go ride the crazy thing from start to finish in 21 days and just pretend for a month that I could handle whatever this experience could dish out. This was not about racing; I did not obsess over my time or my speed; the goal was to simply cover the distance in the same amount of days as the pros would follow just 4 days ahead of the actual race. It meant getting up everyday, rain or shine, and starting what I set out to finish. I’ll be the first to admit that I was at least as skeptical as anyone aware of the trip. Julie and I, and our support crew of Fred and Gerry, have had quite the experience. It has not been easy. It has not necessarily been fun in the way most people would define the term. It has been an experience that has tested our limits. We have certainly discovered that most limits are self imposed and we have stretched them hard, but we did not break. So here we are in Bedoin, at the base of Mont Ventoux. The stage is over, the climb has been completed and we are all left to ponder what all of this has meant. When I got to the top, I was not sure what my own emotions would be: euphoria, happiness, melancholy?? I found myself sitting at the edge of the climb looking out at the mountain ranges surrounding Mont Ventoux and I just felt numb. I think the combination of physical and mental fatigue just got in the way of emotions. I felt fulfilled but also empty. It reminded me again of Dr. Sheehan’s comment to me that “there is no finish line.” I hope you have enjoyed the journey with us and can recognize that I’ve shared a bit of my soul along with the experiences of the day. I’ve been fortunate to have experienced a number of “life-changing events” during my first 50 years and this will certainly make Dave Rogers’ Top Ten List! I hope the next 50 will be just as enriching!
Peace,
Dave
I may have mentioned that when Greg Lemond won the Tour in 1989 by just 8 seconds in a come-from-behind victory on the final day of the race over his rival, Frenchman Laurent Fignon, I became captivated by this event. I have spent countless hours every July since tuned in to whatever TV or Internet coverage was available to track the progress of the race and the eventual winners. Lemond, three times a winner in ‘86, ‘89 and ‘90, and Lance Armstrong the seven-times champion from 1999-2005, have put the race a bit into the mainstream of American consciousness. Of course, for the Europeans, bike racing, and this race in particular, are the basis of legends, holidays and national pride. People of all ages, shapes and sizes come out of their homes, fields and businesses to catch just a glimpse of the tour riders as they make their way around France. The Grand Boucle (Big Circle) follows a different course each year but always finds a way to captivate the interest of cyclists from around the globe. We all probably have fantasized about being someone or something we are not. Surprise, surprise, I have imagined that being a professional bike racer in the Tour de France peloton would be the pinnacle of the sport. Funny thing happened on the way to turning 50 this year - I couldn’t shake the fantasy so I finally decided that the next best thing was to just go ride the crazy thing from start to finish in 21 days and just pretend for a month that I could handle whatever this experience could dish out. This was not about racing; I did not obsess over my time or my speed; the goal was to simply cover the distance in the same amount of days as the pros would follow just 4 days ahead of the actual race. It meant getting up everyday, rain or shine, and starting what I set out to finish. I’ll be the first to admit that I was at least as skeptical as anyone aware of the trip. Julie and I, and our support crew of Fred and Gerry, have had quite the experience. It has not been easy. It has not necessarily been fun in the way most people would define the term. It has been an experience that has tested our limits. We have certainly discovered that most limits are self imposed and we have stretched them hard, but we did not break. So here we are in Bedoin, at the base of Mont Ventoux. The stage is over, the climb has been completed and we are all left to ponder what all of this has meant. When I got to the top, I was not sure what my own emotions would be: euphoria, happiness, melancholy?? I found myself sitting at the edge of the climb looking out at the mountain ranges surrounding Mont Ventoux and I just felt numb. I think the combination of physical and mental fatigue just got in the way of emotions. I felt fulfilled but also empty. It reminded me again of Dr. Sheehan’s comment to me that “there is no finish line.” I hope you have enjoyed the journey with us and can recognize that I’ve shared a bit of my soul along with the experiences of the day. I’ve been fortunate to have experienced a number of “life-changing events” during my first 50 years and this will certainly make Dave Rogers’ Top Ten List! I hope the next 50 will be just as enriching!
Peace,
Dave
Closing in on the end
Stage 19 Recap:
My mind has begun to process that this ride is soon to be coming to an end and today’s stage (from Bourgoin-Jallieu to Aubenas) was relatively easy by comparison to what has come before and what will finish tomorrow. The Cat 3 and 4 climbs are now starting to feel “easy” and don’t get my attention the way they did earlier in the trip. It’s kind of like when you take your first trip to Yellowstone and you get all excited when you start to see antelope or buffalo roaming the hillsides and you point and stop to take pictures, but after your 400th sighting you stop noticing quite so much. Today’s ride was hot (90s), 110 miles long and relatively uneventful except for the usual assortment of wrong turns and confusing little towns that somehow continue to leave one with no sense of direction coming in or going out. The roads remind us of spaghetti. If there is any form of grid system to their road planning it completely escapes us but we manage to find our way. Sometimes the Moho is more lost than me but we manage to end up at the same place each night. Tonight that location is Montelimar where I will begin my final stage in the morning to the famous climb up Mont Ventoux. It is historic in the annals of the tour with many grand battles taking place on its slopes that rise up from the small village of Bedoin for 20 kilometers at relentless grades of 9-14%. A famous rider died on the climb (Tom Simpson) and a memorial in his honor is just 2 kilometers from the summit where he collapsed. The mountain is often referred to as the “Giant of Provence” or “Mount Baldy”. It is eerily barren and lunar like over the top ¼ of the climb where the mountain was deforested for lumber that was used for ship building. The rock is almost white in color and a communication tower and weather station sit at the top. I have seen it many times watching the tour on TV, but tomorrow I will get my chance in person. It will be exciting to tackle the climb many tour champions consider to be the most difficult of all. Good stuff to sleep on!
-Dave
My mind has begun to process that this ride is soon to be coming to an end and today’s stage (from Bourgoin-Jallieu to Aubenas) was relatively easy by comparison to what has come before and what will finish tomorrow. The Cat 3 and 4 climbs are now starting to feel “easy” and don’t get my attention the way they did earlier in the trip. It’s kind of like when you take your first trip to Yellowstone and you get all excited when you start to see antelope or buffalo roaming the hillsides and you point and stop to take pictures, but after your 400th sighting you stop noticing quite so much. Today’s ride was hot (90s), 110 miles long and relatively uneventful except for the usual assortment of wrong turns and confusing little towns that somehow continue to leave one with no sense of direction coming in or going out. The roads remind us of spaghetti. If there is any form of grid system to their road planning it completely escapes us but we manage to find our way. Sometimes the Moho is more lost than me but we manage to end up at the same place each night. Tonight that location is Montelimar where I will begin my final stage in the morning to the famous climb up Mont Ventoux. It is historic in the annals of the tour with many grand battles taking place on its slopes that rise up from the small village of Bedoin for 20 kilometers at relentless grades of 9-14%. A famous rider died on the climb (Tom Simpson) and a memorial in his honor is just 2 kilometers from the summit where he collapsed. The mountain is often referred to as the “Giant of Provence” or “Mount Baldy”. It is eerily barren and lunar like over the top ¼ of the climb where the mountain was deforested for lumber that was used for ship building. The rock is almost white in color and a communication tower and weather station sit at the top. I have seen it many times watching the tour on TV, but tomorrow I will get my chance in person. It will be exciting to tackle the climb many tour champions consider to be the most difficult of all. Good stuff to sleep on!
-Dave
Annecy - SHOPPING!! Finally
Annecy – Sunday, July 19, 2009
I get to write about Annecy, because most of the Annecy stage was spent doing what I love best – SHOPPING! We awoke Sunday morning to clear skies – finally. We stayed overnight in Bourges Saint-Maurice after a wonderful dinner of cheese fondue (Gerry and me) – a specialty of the Alps, and grilled beef with zucchini and pommes de terre (potatoes) for Dave. We thought we were headed to a campground but wound up in yet another parking lot, which was nicely isolated and quiet (by a cemetery once again!), so we stayed. Gerry awoke in the morning and found the requisite Patisserie for bread and pastries and, while we ate breakfast, the local gendermarie (police) arrived to tell us we could not stay. Whoops. Oh well, at least we weren’t still sleeping like the folks on the other side of the street! We finished up, did the dishes and closed up shop, headed for Annecy.
We had been told lots about Annecy. The route surrounds a large lake and Dave’s friend from the states, Phil Van Valkenburg, had told him that we needed to spend extra time there if we could because it was an outstandingly beautiful city and area. Phil, you were absolutely correct! We found a parking spot early (thankfully – they were absolutely non-existent by the time we came back to eat a bit of lunch around noon!) and set out. The streets are small and narrow, cobblestone-lined with old fronts and lined with restaurants and shops. On Sunday, they’re lined with markets full of fresh vegetables, fruit, cheese, sausage along with all other wares to buy (clothing, shoes, etc., etc.). Heaven to me after so many days in the mo-ho!! I spent a few Euros on gifts and fresh fruit (going to be difficult to go back to Wonder Bread and HyVee!), ogling the oldness of the city along the way.
Dave stayed with us for a little while, but we decided at 11:30 that he should set off on the stage so we could be done in time to watch the Tour today. They are riding the Pontalier to Verbier stage as I write this, which was such an exciting stage for Dave to ride that we didn’t want to miss it. Gerry and I scoped out a bar in the middle of the restaurant district, had a coffee (milkshake for me) and primed our spot. Gerry and I kept shopping (OK, I dragged Gerry – he was reluctant!) and got back to the mo-ho around 1. Dave got there shortly thereafter. Funny little tidbit … we were told by a German man in a motor home who had initially parked next to us that we needed to move because we all were parked in a bus parking spot and the police were very vigilant and would ticket us. So we did. When Gerry and I returned, the are around both of out motor home had several police, so we just kind of mosied around until they left only to find out that they ticketed the German man for not being in the white lines. We were fine. Whoops!! We eeked out a win on that!
Anyway, Dave returned shortly thereafter, having had a great ride today. He said the route was absolutely gorgeous and there was one little kicker one the route – a Cat 3 climb – the Col du Bluffy - that would be interesting for the racers. We headed back to town and have been able to sit and enjoy 120 km of the Tour. It’s been interesting to only catch bits and pieces of the tour here, even though we’re riding/racing the entire route. It’s also been difficult to place ourselves when we DO see the Tour – where are they racing? When did we see that? How steep/narrow/difficult/easy was that?
I spoke to my friend, Bonnie Ford, yesterday. She’s a reporter for ESPN.com for the Tour and was in Besascon waiting for the racers to come in. It was so good to hear a friendly voice. We are going to try to see her at the Mont Ventoux stage on the 25th. She assured me that even the press corps on the tour are having issues with directions and navigation. I’m sure that happens every year because it’s always different, but it makes me feel not quite so stupid!
2 more stages … can’t believe this trip is nearly to its successful end. So proud!
We miss everyone and are looking forward to hot showers, dishwashers, tall ceilings and more room than the mo-ho provides!! Soon!
-Julie
I get to write about Annecy, because most of the Annecy stage was spent doing what I love best – SHOPPING! We awoke Sunday morning to clear skies – finally. We stayed overnight in Bourges Saint-Maurice after a wonderful dinner of cheese fondue (Gerry and me) – a specialty of the Alps, and grilled beef with zucchini and pommes de terre (potatoes) for Dave. We thought we were headed to a campground but wound up in yet another parking lot, which was nicely isolated and quiet (by a cemetery once again!), so we stayed. Gerry awoke in the morning and found the requisite Patisserie for bread and pastries and, while we ate breakfast, the local gendermarie (police) arrived to tell us we could not stay. Whoops. Oh well, at least we weren’t still sleeping like the folks on the other side of the street! We finished up, did the dishes and closed up shop, headed for Annecy.
We had been told lots about Annecy. The route surrounds a large lake and Dave’s friend from the states, Phil Van Valkenburg, had told him that we needed to spend extra time there if we could because it was an outstandingly beautiful city and area. Phil, you were absolutely correct! We found a parking spot early (thankfully – they were absolutely non-existent by the time we came back to eat a bit of lunch around noon!) and set out. The streets are small and narrow, cobblestone-lined with old fronts and lined with restaurants and shops. On Sunday, they’re lined with markets full of fresh vegetables, fruit, cheese, sausage along with all other wares to buy (clothing, shoes, etc., etc.). Heaven to me after so many days in the mo-ho!! I spent a few Euros on gifts and fresh fruit (going to be difficult to go back to Wonder Bread and HyVee!), ogling the oldness of the city along the way.
Dave stayed with us for a little while, but we decided at 11:30 that he should set off on the stage so we could be done in time to watch the Tour today. They are riding the Pontalier to Verbier stage as I write this, which was such an exciting stage for Dave to ride that we didn’t want to miss it. Gerry and I scoped out a bar in the middle of the restaurant district, had a coffee (milkshake for me) and primed our spot. Gerry and I kept shopping (OK, I dragged Gerry – he was reluctant!) and got back to the mo-ho around 1. Dave got there shortly thereafter. Funny little tidbit … we were told by a German man in a motor home who had initially parked next to us that we needed to move because we all were parked in a bus parking spot and the police were very vigilant and would ticket us. So we did. When Gerry and I returned, the are around both of out motor home had several police, so we just kind of mosied around until they left only to find out that they ticketed the German man for not being in the white lines. We were fine. Whoops!! We eeked out a win on that!
Anyway, Dave returned shortly thereafter, having had a great ride today. He said the route was absolutely gorgeous and there was one little kicker one the route – a Cat 3 climb – the Col du Bluffy - that would be interesting for the racers. We headed back to town and have been able to sit and enjoy 120 km of the Tour. It’s been interesting to only catch bits and pieces of the tour here, even though we’re riding/racing the entire route. It’s also been difficult to place ourselves when we DO see the Tour – where are they racing? When did we see that? How steep/narrow/difficult/easy was that?
I spoke to my friend, Bonnie Ford, yesterday. She’s a reporter for ESPN.com for the Tour and was in Besascon waiting for the racers to come in. It was so good to hear a friendly voice. We are going to try to see her at the Mont Ventoux stage on the 25th. She assured me that even the press corps on the tour are having issues with directions and navigation. I’m sure that happens every year because it’s always different, but it makes me feel not quite so stupid!
2 more stages … can’t believe this trip is nearly to its successful end. So proud!
We miss everyone and are looking forward to hot showers, dishwashers, tall ceilings and more room than the mo-ho provides!! Soon!
-Julie
This one's for Liz!
Stage 17 is in the books and will go down as the most climbing in one day anyone should think about doing unless their life depends on it. After yesterdays hypothermic experience you can imagine my despair when I awoke this morning to a cold and dreary rain, low gray clouds over the mountains and storm and wind warnings for the evening. I looked out the window of the Moho at 8 am and wanted to crawl into a hole. Stage 17 had 180 kilometers with four Category 1 Climbs and one Cat 2. It was going to be insane on a sunny day but this was just too much. I rolled over, covered my head and thought this may be the day I take a ride in the passenger seat. The bathroom in the campground we were staying at was just 50 yards away so I eventually got up reluctantly to the call of nature and slogged my way over to the restroom. While I had a few moments to myself, I reflected on a topic my family and I had discussed at length before the trip: what would I consider a success on this trip? Would success be defined as finishing all the stages? Would success be doing as many as I could and then just following the race as a spectator? Was it a success just to be here to give it a try? We all (Julie, Mike, Liz and I) agreed that this fundamental question needed to be answered before leaving for Europe. The answer came to me one day in a sole searching phone conversation with my daughter Liz. The answer to success that I could convince myself and my family of was simply to get up every day and start. No matter how sore, how tired, how crappy outside, how unmotivated, simply start. I believed inside that once I started that anything after that was possible and at that point I would be in control of my own destiny. We all know how difficult that first step can be. It plays out everyday in our lives at home, at work, even at play. The first step is often the most difficult. A very motivating physician I became acquainted with in the early 1990’s, George Sheehan MD, was a cardiologist, author, motivational speaker and nationally recognized marathon runner. He once autographed a picture for me that says, “Remember Dave, there is no finish line!” The dichotomy of a start without a finish seems somewhat unfulfilling on the surface, like purgatory in a way. But the more you think about it, it helps you focus more on the beginning and the journey without the finality of an end. Perhaps that’s why “endings” can tend to be anticlimactic or less fulfilling than the body of the story. So after this moment of deep thinking I slogged back to the Moho and I just quietly started putting on my cycling clothing. Julie looked at me and asked me what I was doing and I simply said “I’m riding”. She and Jerry both looked stunned, I think they too thought this was the day that would push me back under the blankets. It rained almost all day, it sleeted on the climb up the Col de Roseland, that is until I got toward the top when it turned to snow, I was frozen again. I put on every layer I could on the decent and I froze some more. I had to stop twice because I could not feel my brakes. The next 4 climbs offered more of the same, After 8+ hours of riding I climbed off my bike in the village of Le Grand Bornand, France. The day was over, “success” was in hand, all because I simply started. Every day on this trip has taught me something and today’s lesson was simple, “just start”. Thank’s Liz!
Liggitisms
Stage 16 Recap, 7/17/09
Today’s stage was from Martigny, Switzerland, to Bourg-Saint-Maurice, France, and totaled 160 kilometers (or in my case today 130K). It took in the high point of this year’s tour (2,473 meters), the “beyond category” ranked, Col de Grand-Saint Bernard, essentially 40 K uphill from the start and the Category 1 climb, the Col du Petit-Saint-Bernard (2,188 meters). These are mountains in the true sense of the Swiss Alps, above the trees, above the clouds, above most of humanity. The environmental changes today were dramatic. We could not start the ride until almost 11:30 a.m. due to torrential overnight and morning rain. It finally “cleared up” but it was a short-lived reprieve for the day of rain that was to follow … mild sprinkles in the valleys that turned into a downright nightmare on the second climb of the day. I’ve had a lot of “alone time” during this trip and I described how the mind occasionally wanders. Today I was thinking about the theme for this summary and I had decided it was going to be about “spots.” I had it all figured out. I was going to talk about hot spots, sweet spots, raw spots, wet spots, black spots, water spots, etc., etc. However, that all changed on the climb today up the Col du Petit-Saint-Bernard. This is where the word Liggitism came into play. For those not familiar with the Tour de France, the commentary team who covers the race for the U.S. broadcast is made up of a British journalist, race announcer and former rider, Phil Liggit; Paul Sherwin, a South African and former pro racer; and, in recent years, Bob Roll “Bobke”, an eccentric former pro from the U.S. This team provides an exceptionally entertaining and informative broadcast to the tour and I have certainly missed their coverage of this year’s race. The little I have been able to watch has been on French TV 2 and, other than picking out the riders’ names, I don’t have a clue what the announcers are saying. Phil Liggit has been covering the tour for well over 20 years and as one might imagine after that long, he has developed some expressions that repeatedly pop-up over the years and within a broadcast. My favorite has always been that “so and so rider is suffering like he has never suffered before.” Usually it is reserved for those special efforts when a rider is in a long solo breakaway and is trying to outrace the charging pack mile after mile into the finishing town. These exploits usually don’t succeed, but when they do, they are epic victories that are well earned and gain the respect of the racers and fans. I have always wondered if I knew what that would feel like. Surely I have suffered on the bike. I have been at my limit many times; every racer, whether they be pro or amateur, regardless of ability, has gone to that spot where the body just says “stop.” The question that is sometimes hard to pinpoint is whether that stopping point is physical, psychological, fear induced, momentary pain, etc? I’m not sure finding the true end point is as easy as it sounds. I was kind of hoping that at some point on this trip I might find that point. A mixed combination of factors that could not be overcome by easier gears, or a momentary break, or even climbing off and walking (god forbid that option). Well today I think I found it at the top of the final climb. I don’t really have the words to paint the picture like it felt in my mind and body. It goes something like this. …
The last 40 K became increasingly cold. The rain became almost like sleet and whipped horizontally across the entire climb, which was mostly above the tree line offering no protection. I was riding with just a short-sleeve jersey and shorts and was soaked from 7 hours of sweat and rain. The climb went on for eternity and I tried long periods of climbing out of the saddle in an attempt to generate more body heat but there was none to be had. I was increasing hypothermic and could not grip my bars tightly or hardly feel my shifters. I tried counting 1-10 with my pedal rhythm but it felt like high level math. I knew that Julie and Gerry would be at the top but where was it? I kept passing motor homes parked for the actual race to follow in a few days but even these fans were bundled up inside. There was an occasional car going up but they just looked at me like I had lost my mind. I knew I needed help but it would only be found at the top where Julie and Gerry waited, and when I finally reached the summit I looked in vain at the motor homes parked in the lot and they were not there. I tried to think what to do and actually started to descend but surely they would not have gone beyond the top. The conditions were horrible and I needed refuge now! I pulled over out of the wind behind a small hut at the top and tried to get out my phone from my seat pack. My hands could barely open the zipper and I had to really concentrate to dial the number and hit the right keys on the phone. Julie answered and they were actually behind me on the climb having just reached the summit moments ago, but assuming I was somewhere below them still on the climb. I think they realized I was in big trouble and made it to me within a few minutes. Julie had to help me out of my clothes and I toweled off and wrapped up in blankets. She made me hot soup and hot tea and I shook like a leaf for over an hour. I’ve swam in Lake Michigan in 32-degree water on New Year’s Day “the Polar Plunge” and I have frozen in tree stands during hunting deer in Wisconsin, but nothing compares to this. I have never been so cold, so numb, so completely wasted that I could not think or act other than to lean against a wooden door hoping that help was on the way. Today I suffered like I have never suffered before. Now I know!
Tomorrow is another day.
Dave
Today’s stage was from Martigny, Switzerland, to Bourg-Saint-Maurice, France, and totaled 160 kilometers (or in my case today 130K). It took in the high point of this year’s tour (2,473 meters), the “beyond category” ranked, Col de Grand-Saint Bernard, essentially 40 K uphill from the start and the Category 1 climb, the Col du Petit-Saint-Bernard (2,188 meters). These are mountains in the true sense of the Swiss Alps, above the trees, above the clouds, above most of humanity. The environmental changes today were dramatic. We could not start the ride until almost 11:30 a.m. due to torrential overnight and morning rain. It finally “cleared up” but it was a short-lived reprieve for the day of rain that was to follow … mild sprinkles in the valleys that turned into a downright nightmare on the second climb of the day. I’ve had a lot of “alone time” during this trip and I described how the mind occasionally wanders. Today I was thinking about the theme for this summary and I had decided it was going to be about “spots.” I had it all figured out. I was going to talk about hot spots, sweet spots, raw spots, wet spots, black spots, water spots, etc., etc. However, that all changed on the climb today up the Col du Petit-Saint-Bernard. This is where the word Liggitism came into play. For those not familiar with the Tour de France, the commentary team who covers the race for the U.S. broadcast is made up of a British journalist, race announcer and former rider, Phil Liggit; Paul Sherwin, a South African and former pro racer; and, in recent years, Bob Roll “Bobke”, an eccentric former pro from the U.S. This team provides an exceptionally entertaining and informative broadcast to the tour and I have certainly missed their coverage of this year’s race. The little I have been able to watch has been on French TV 2 and, other than picking out the riders’ names, I don’t have a clue what the announcers are saying. Phil Liggit has been covering the tour for well over 20 years and as one might imagine after that long, he has developed some expressions that repeatedly pop-up over the years and within a broadcast. My favorite has always been that “so and so rider is suffering like he has never suffered before.” Usually it is reserved for those special efforts when a rider is in a long solo breakaway and is trying to outrace the charging pack mile after mile into the finishing town. These exploits usually don’t succeed, but when they do, they are epic victories that are well earned and gain the respect of the racers and fans. I have always wondered if I knew what that would feel like. Surely I have suffered on the bike. I have been at my limit many times; every racer, whether they be pro or amateur, regardless of ability, has gone to that spot where the body just says “stop.” The question that is sometimes hard to pinpoint is whether that stopping point is physical, psychological, fear induced, momentary pain, etc? I’m not sure finding the true end point is as easy as it sounds. I was kind of hoping that at some point on this trip I might find that point. A mixed combination of factors that could not be overcome by easier gears, or a momentary break, or even climbing off and walking (god forbid that option). Well today I think I found it at the top of the final climb. I don’t really have the words to paint the picture like it felt in my mind and body. It goes something like this. …
The last 40 K became increasingly cold. The rain became almost like sleet and whipped horizontally across the entire climb, which was mostly above the tree line offering no protection. I was riding with just a short-sleeve jersey and shorts and was soaked from 7 hours of sweat and rain. The climb went on for eternity and I tried long periods of climbing out of the saddle in an attempt to generate more body heat but there was none to be had. I was increasing hypothermic and could not grip my bars tightly or hardly feel my shifters. I tried counting 1-10 with my pedal rhythm but it felt like high level math. I knew that Julie and Gerry would be at the top but where was it? I kept passing motor homes parked for the actual race to follow in a few days but even these fans were bundled up inside. There was an occasional car going up but they just looked at me like I had lost my mind. I knew I needed help but it would only be found at the top where Julie and Gerry waited, and when I finally reached the summit I looked in vain at the motor homes parked in the lot and they were not there. I tried to think what to do and actually started to descend but surely they would not have gone beyond the top. The conditions were horrible and I needed refuge now! I pulled over out of the wind behind a small hut at the top and tried to get out my phone from my seat pack. My hands could barely open the zipper and I had to really concentrate to dial the number and hit the right keys on the phone. Julie answered and they were actually behind me on the climb having just reached the summit moments ago, but assuming I was somewhere below them still on the climb. I think they realized I was in big trouble and made it to me within a few minutes. Julie had to help me out of my clothes and I toweled off and wrapped up in blankets. She made me hot soup and hot tea and I shook like a leaf for over an hour. I’ve swam in Lake Michigan in 32-degree water on New Year’s Day “the Polar Plunge” and I have frozen in tree stands during hunting deer in Wisconsin, but nothing compares to this. I have never been so cold, so numb, so completely wasted that I could not think or act other than to lean against a wooden door hoping that help was on the way. Today I suffered like I have never suffered before. Now I know!
Tomorrow is another day.
Dave
Yodel-la-de-WHO?
Friday, July 17, 2009
Yesterday we completed our trek into Switzerland, ending Stage 15 in the high mountains of the Swiss Alps. The stage finished in the amazing ski village of Verbier with a panoramic view of Mont Blanc in the background. The climb to Verbier was grueling, with the steepest pitches over the last 8.5 kilometers. The total ride day was 200K and was among the most beautiful once I made it to the Alps, but was made difficult by very hot conditions and lots of traffic throughout the day. Climbing was nearly constant with four Category 3 climbs, one Cat 2 and the finale up to Verbier - a Cat 1. Following my usual cold spritz shower in the back of the Moho, we settled in for a delightful meal on the terrace of a restaurant in Verbier, surrounded by mountains and a beautiful and relaxing setting. Gerry treated last night, which was very generous and I will not soon forget the fresh berries and ice cream I had for dessert. We all decided that the climb was so difficult that this will be a high-impact stage on the GC in the Tour and there were already numerous motor homes and spectators gathering on the climb. In two days this place will be swamped with the tour faithful. On the day the tour arrives here, I will be doing Stage 18, a short 40.5 kilometer individual time trial in Annecy, France. This will allow us the rare chance to watch a stage on French television and we should be able to do some sightseeing and shopping. I have been told that Annecy is one of the most beautiful places on the planet so we all look forward to that day.
Today’s ride is currently being delayed by a thunderstorm in the start town of Martigny, where I depart from for two of the most difficult climbs in this year’s tour. The climbing begins immediately up the relentless slopes of the Col du Grand-Saint-Bernard. Starting at 547 meters and ending at 2,473 meters, it is the high point of this year’s tour and rated HC or “beyond categorization”. The grade goes up for 40 kilometers before plunging down for a nearly equal distance and then starts the second climb of the day, the Col du Petit-Saint-Bernard. Nothing “petit” about the second ascent as it goes up to 2,188 meters and is rated a Cat 1 climb. The finish is graciously downhill to the conclusion in Bourg-Saint-Maurice, France, a total of 160 kilometers. The rain is ranging from horizontal to vertical and we are holding tight for now, hoping for a break. Julie has woken with her first major headache of the trip (other than me) and we are hoping it is not a migraine but rather due to the altitude and barometric pressure changes from this storm. The weather in the mountains is very unpredictable, with conditions predictably worse as you go uphill and into the clouds. For now we wait. Hope to enter more at the end of the day. It will be a fitting test to the grades of Mont Ventoux later in the week.
My best from the Swiss Alps!
Dave
Yesterday we completed our trek into Switzerland, ending Stage 15 in the high mountains of the Swiss Alps. The stage finished in the amazing ski village of Verbier with a panoramic view of Mont Blanc in the background. The climb to Verbier was grueling, with the steepest pitches over the last 8.5 kilometers. The total ride day was 200K and was among the most beautiful once I made it to the Alps, but was made difficult by very hot conditions and lots of traffic throughout the day. Climbing was nearly constant with four Category 3 climbs, one Cat 2 and the finale up to Verbier - a Cat 1. Following my usual cold spritz shower in the back of the Moho, we settled in for a delightful meal on the terrace of a restaurant in Verbier, surrounded by mountains and a beautiful and relaxing setting. Gerry treated last night, which was very generous and I will not soon forget the fresh berries and ice cream I had for dessert. We all decided that the climb was so difficult that this will be a high-impact stage on the GC in the Tour and there were already numerous motor homes and spectators gathering on the climb. In two days this place will be swamped with the tour faithful. On the day the tour arrives here, I will be doing Stage 18, a short 40.5 kilometer individual time trial in Annecy, France. This will allow us the rare chance to watch a stage on French television and we should be able to do some sightseeing and shopping. I have been told that Annecy is one of the most beautiful places on the planet so we all look forward to that day.
Today’s ride is currently being delayed by a thunderstorm in the start town of Martigny, where I depart from for two of the most difficult climbs in this year’s tour. The climbing begins immediately up the relentless slopes of the Col du Grand-Saint-Bernard. Starting at 547 meters and ending at 2,473 meters, it is the high point of this year’s tour and rated HC or “beyond categorization”. The grade goes up for 40 kilometers before plunging down for a nearly equal distance and then starts the second climb of the day, the Col du Petit-Saint-Bernard. Nothing “petit” about the second ascent as it goes up to 2,188 meters and is rated a Cat 1 climb. The finish is graciously downhill to the conclusion in Bourg-Saint-Maurice, France, a total of 160 kilometers. The rain is ranging from horizontal to vertical and we are holding tight for now, hoping for a break. Julie has woken with her first major headache of the trip (other than me) and we are hoping it is not a migraine but rather due to the altitude and barometric pressure changes from this storm. The weather in the mountains is very unpredictable, with conditions predictably worse as you go uphill and into the clouds. For now we wait. Hope to enter more at the end of the day. It will be a fitting test to the grades of Mont Ventoux later in the week.
My best from the Swiss Alps!
Dave
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
The pros do it, too
Just read that Bob Roll - commentator for the Tour and former Tour rider and pro cyclist - also did the gasoline/diesel error yesterday. Not that we still don't feel foolish, but at least we feel more human! Thanks, Bobke.
- Julie
- Julie
900 K in 4 days
Greetings to all. I wasn't actually sleeping as Julie said, I was passed out! I am enjoying a day of rest after pushing through the last 5 stages in 4 days. For those uninitiated to cycling or the metric system 900 Kilometers is approximately 560 miles and it's been a combination of up, down, hot, cold, wet, smooth, rough and every other weather and cycling related comparison one could muster. I have had a lot of hours alone and while your mind does drift there is a quite a need to stay focused on the task at hand. As simple and repititious as pedaling a bike would seem, there is one disaster or another waiting to grab you at anytime and I'm doing my best to avoid any mishap that could derail this ambition. The small laminated daily route maps that Julie made for me before the trip have allowed me to navigate the entire route and get through the towns and side roads that the tour ventures through on its way around France and in and out of neighboring countries. I have been lost so many times despite this that I stopped counting but it adds in the few K's that I may be missing from the start or finish of the rides. These departing and ending locations are very difficult to pinpoint and without the benefit of signage, motor escorts and road closures, it is most difficult to pilot my way into and out of the bigger cities. I have asked for directions from shop owners and pedestrians along the way and all have been very courteous to help direct me but few can speak but a few words of English. I know about as much French but somehow with a combination of words and hand signals, we communicate and I head on down the road with blind faith and dumb luck as my guide. Many of the small towns that the tour passes through along the way are decorated with banners, flowers, bicycles, etc. I enjoy the color but of course there are no waiting crowds to cheer me on as you see on TV. Mostly just people out going through their daily routines or tidying up their town for the arrival of Le Tour! Julie has mentioned the role that Fred and Gerry have played in this trip and for the three of them (Julie, I love you) I am eternally grateful. It is amazing what generous people they have all been to combine their time and energy on my behalf. I know their are moments of enjoyment for them but frankly I also realize that going everyday from point A-B worrying about a solo cyclist on the road for 8+ hours is probably not it. I mentioned that there is time for the mind to wander a bit and typically what happens is that people just pop into my head while I'm riding and I somehow draw a smile or some inspiration from something they have said to me before I left, a post left on the blog or just from the relationship that we have. I could not mention everyone but I have laughed over John Kugler's remark to "bee safe", Sheila Urbach told me I have "big balls for just trying this", Matt Landen told me how "jealous" he was and Chris Spence told me I was "an inspiration". My Father-In-Law causes me to live in fear for the "adventure" I took his daughter on and my Mom, the ultimate lover of travel and adventure, just reminds me of the energy one can draw from the spirit of adventure. Julie is my rock of encouragement and is always there to wish me off in the morning, make me a water bottle, find me a pastry or help with my daily rituals. I have promised her our next vacation will not involve a bike! Tonight we will shortly go to dinner at the hotel restaurant in Pontarlier. France. With my last rest day nearly complete, I will begin Stage 15 of 21 tomorrow into the high mountains of the high mountains of the Swiss Alps. My ride is 207 kilometers and includes 4 Category 3 climbs, 1 Category 2 climb and 1 Category 1 climb to finish the day in Verbier, Switzerland. All that is a bunch of biker talk meaning I'm going to be going uphill a lot tomorrow. When I started this trip I had a lot of self doubt about what was and was not possible. I kept most of those thoughts to myself and will continue to do keep them tucked away for now. I go into the final week knowing that the toughest is yet to come but my morale is high and my determination is strong. Keep your kind thoughts coming and I'll continue to draw on your collective strength.
Oh, and one last thing! I have saved this for the end of this post and don't know when I will get to write again but for all those I have mentioned I just wanted to say a special thanks to my kids, Mike and Liz. It's funny how a family supports each other during times of "high and low tide" and I have two kids who have given me every ounce of encouragement and support back that I have ever given to them. I mentioned all the people who pop into and out of my head during the ride and they are the ones who I visualize and listen too most often. Mike (also a cyclist) and his wife, Jenny, proud new parents of my grandaughter, Lucy, in Baltimore! And Liz, my favorite daughter in Minneapolis. To both of you I just want you to know that I'm going to nail this thing and you will be there with me at the top of Mont Ventoux.
Love to all.
Dave
Oh, and one last thing! I have saved this for the end of this post and don't know when I will get to write again but for all those I have mentioned I just wanted to say a special thanks to my kids, Mike and Liz. It's funny how a family supports each other during times of "high and low tide" and I have two kids who have given me every ounce of encouragement and support back that I have ever given to them. I mentioned all the people who pop into and out of my head during the ride and they are the ones who I visualize and listen too most often. Mike (also a cyclist) and his wife, Jenny, proud new parents of my grandaughter, Lucy, in Baltimore! And Liz, my favorite daughter in Minneapolis. To both of you I just want you to know that I'm going to nail this thing and you will be there with me at the top of Mont Ventoux.
Love to all.
Dave
Catching up ... we're off to Switzerland tomorrow...
We apologize for not being able to keep everyone up to date a bit more. We've not had as much access to the Internet as we initially thought we would have. We finally are changing our schedule a bit and are taking a rest day, catching an evening in a hotel in Pontarlier, France, (on the far eastern side, near Switzerland) and catching up.
First, things are going better. Since our gas/diesel experience, we've not had much to report in terms of that type of "excitement," thank goodness. I think there's only so much excitement a trip can take, and we may be at the peak of it!! We retrieved the mo-ho from the Renault repair shop in Muret for much less than we initially thought it would cost us. The engine was NOT damaged. They just had to drain the gas and clean the tank and a few pieces and then we refilled with DIESEL!! My dad told me that he heard of someone doing the reverse (filling gas with diesel), so I'm hoping this isn't the most uncommon thing.
We left Muret (near Tolouse) late Friday evening and traveled to Limoges. We made an agreement with Dave that he was going to try to do 5 stages (Stage 10, 11, 12, 13 and 14) in 4 days, adding about 50K to each day. Gerry and I were supportive, but worried that it would take too much of a toll on him before the high mountain stages in Switzerland, but we said we'd give him a shot. We all did agree, however, that his start time needed to be early - like before 8 a.m. each day in order to finish before dark and that we would transport him through the larger towns, at least the ones that we could ascertain. On Saturday, he left Limoges for Issoudun - leaving around 7:45 a.m. He had a fantastic ride, finishing in Issoudun by 3:45 - 194 km. We got him in the car, fed him a bit and traveled the short distance to Vatan, intending for him to ride 60 km to Menetou-Salon. Unfortunately, we encounted a roadblock at Allogny, about 44 km into the route. The French National races were being held in that town and the tour route was actually part of the race, so the route was closed both Saturday and Sunday. Since it was getting to be around 7 p.m., and we weren't certain where we could drop Dave, he climbed in and we traveled the way the officials pointed to get us around the route. We found a great campground in the next town (Neuvy sur-Barangeon) and decided it was destiny. Dinner was in a tiny hotel and we were entertained by a bachelor party where the bachelor (who we found out was 40 and getting married in 8 days) was walking around with a cart and passing out vegetables from his garden for drinks and serving wine that he made from his own grapes. It was quite hilarious and Dave really got into it, getting sprayed several times by a fire extinguisher filled with wine.
Sunday we traveled around the detour and dropped Dave at the corner of D-20/D-25. He only missed about 6 km (but he makes that up every day on reroutes!!) at 8:41 a.m. Another great day and he finished this stage (the final 158 km) in Saint-Fargeu around 2:30. Jerry and I had found a little bar in the middle of town and were enjoying the Tour as he arrived. No time to waste ... OK, a little, as it was difficult to pull two avid Tour enthusiasts out from in front of the TV ... we loaded Dave in for the transfer to Stage 12, starting in Tonnerre - about an hour away. He started the second half of his ride at 4:35 and we stopped him when we saw the cool Charles de Gaulle monument in Columbey-Les-Deau-Eglises, a little over 102 km into the stage and a little after 8:15 p.m. Again, another town with a camping area and some cool monuments. It's the town where de Gaulle died, though we couldn't find his burial plot (I tried!!!). Dinner was in a nice hotel, but we arrived at 9 only to be told that they were closing by the waitress, but the guy behind the bar (owner?) said to serve us anyway. THANK GOODNESS as we were all famished! And, besides, the dinner was excellent - we all had the same thing ... salad with cheese and mozzarella, fish with rice (or it might have been barley) and dessert.
Monday we ferried Dave around Chaumont, a little bit larger city, and dropped him at 9:45 in a small town called Le Puits-des-Mezes. Time got a bit later as Dave was getting a bit more tired, but still ready to continue. Once he got on his bike, he trekked on the final 72 km to just outside Vittel with no problems. We took him to the other side of Vittel and he took off on Stage 13 at 1:35. This was a tough day with several mountains in the stage. We decided just to see how far he could get before it got dark and we'd stop there. He got through a Cat 3 (Cote de Xertigny), Cat 2 (Col de la Schlucht) and a Cat 1 (Col du Platzerwasel) before it started to get dark and we were a bit concerned. There was also a good area for parking and a small crepery for dinner. We stopped at the top of Platzerwasel (a ski hill)- Le Markstein - and settled in for the night. Again, as we approached the dinner area, we were told they were closing, but they would make crepes. Fine. The menu was just dessert crepes - fine with me, but Dave needed more protein. Ham and cheese crepes? Perfect. So dinner was ham and cheese crepes and fruit crepes (Dave and me) and chestnut creme (Jerry) for dessert. Awesome.
Thunderstorms and rain overnight made getting up Tuesday morning a bit difficult. The rain was coming down really hard, visibility was difficult and it was cold. Dave was already tired and becoming worn. We decided to pack up and go down the mountain to see if we could drive out of the rain. We got down to the bottom of the next climb - Cat 3 Col du Bannstein in Schweighouse and it cleared up enough for him to get going. We dropped him there at 10:57, unfortunately at the bottom of the climb. After a slow start, he got going and not only finished that climb, but the next, a Cat 1 Col du Firstplan, and finished that stage - 37 km - at 12:20 in Colmar. Colmar to Besancon was, thankfully, a bit flatter and would be his final catch up for his "diesel" day. He climbed out on the other side of Colmar in Sundhoffen at 1:10. Since it was Bastille Day in France, the streets were basically rolled up and no one was out. Gerry and I were able to just bomb through towns. We checked in periodically, but he kept a good pace throughout the afternoon and arrived in Besancon at 7:25 with daylight to spare. Not much energy to spare, but daylight!
We convinced Dave to take Wednesday off, as the exertion was incredible and he was extremely tired, so we had a good dinner in Besancon (Gerry had mussels and crayfish in a casserole- a fricasse that he said was fantastic and I said looked fairly gross; Dave had an omelet; and I had a burger in a crepe - didn't taste anything like an American burger!! Much better!!) and found a parking spot just off the highway.
We made a good decision as we awoke to thunderstorms overnight again. We got up and drove to a little place in between Besancon and Pontarlier (called Ornans) that was along the river, and had some coffee/tea. The place was so neat - it was an adventure park where kids were launching canoes to travel up the river and others were arriving with camping gear, I assume to travel upriver and camp. They also had zip lines and other gear. We arrived in Pontarlier, the start of tomorrow's Stage 15, around noon and checked intoa Campanile hotel. Free Wifi, wonderful rooms (we got one room and a second room for an additional 10 euros!!), hot showers, we got the laundry done downtown, we watched the Tour (though Dave actually slept through the final!) and caught up on the blog.
Dave starts the final third of his trip tomorrow. High Mountains await - the Alps. We head into Switzerland. He's not let us down yet and we don't expect him to give up any time soon. The trip has gotten better, thanks to Gerry! It would never have been possible without Fred and Jerry helping to salvage it (thanks, Judith, for loaning Gerry to us for 2 weeks!). As noted above, I'm eating again. Desserts here are fabulous! :) Liz, I've followed your instructions to find a patesserie and get something sinful. You DID say to do that daily, right?
Thank you ALL for your good wishes, prayers, thoughts and support. We've needed them and will continue to need them.
Merci
-Julie
First, things are going better. Since our gas/diesel experience, we've not had much to report in terms of that type of "excitement," thank goodness. I think there's only so much excitement a trip can take, and we may be at the peak of it!! We retrieved the mo-ho from the Renault repair shop in Muret for much less than we initially thought it would cost us. The engine was NOT damaged. They just had to drain the gas and clean the tank and a few pieces and then we refilled with DIESEL!! My dad told me that he heard of someone doing the reverse (filling gas with diesel), so I'm hoping this isn't the most uncommon thing.
We left Muret (near Tolouse) late Friday evening and traveled to Limoges. We made an agreement with Dave that he was going to try to do 5 stages (Stage 10, 11, 12, 13 and 14) in 4 days, adding about 50K to each day. Gerry and I were supportive, but worried that it would take too much of a toll on him before the high mountain stages in Switzerland, but we said we'd give him a shot. We all did agree, however, that his start time needed to be early - like before 8 a.m. each day in order to finish before dark and that we would transport him through the larger towns, at least the ones that we could ascertain. On Saturday, he left Limoges for Issoudun - leaving around 7:45 a.m. He had a fantastic ride, finishing in Issoudun by 3:45 - 194 km. We got him in the car, fed him a bit and traveled the short distance to Vatan, intending for him to ride 60 km to Menetou-Salon. Unfortunately, we encounted a roadblock at Allogny, about 44 km into the route. The French National races were being held in that town and the tour route was actually part of the race, so the route was closed both Saturday and Sunday. Since it was getting to be around 7 p.m., and we weren't certain where we could drop Dave, he climbed in and we traveled the way the officials pointed to get us around the route. We found a great campground in the next town (Neuvy sur-Barangeon) and decided it was destiny. Dinner was in a tiny hotel and we were entertained by a bachelor party where the bachelor (who we found out was 40 and getting married in 8 days) was walking around with a cart and passing out vegetables from his garden for drinks and serving wine that he made from his own grapes. It was quite hilarious and Dave really got into it, getting sprayed several times by a fire extinguisher filled with wine.
Sunday we traveled around the detour and dropped Dave at the corner of D-20/D-25. He only missed about 6 km (but he makes that up every day on reroutes!!) at 8:41 a.m. Another great day and he finished this stage (the final 158 km) in Saint-Fargeu around 2:30. Jerry and I had found a little bar in the middle of town and were enjoying the Tour as he arrived. No time to waste ... OK, a little, as it was difficult to pull two avid Tour enthusiasts out from in front of the TV ... we loaded Dave in for the transfer to Stage 12, starting in Tonnerre - about an hour away. He started the second half of his ride at 4:35 and we stopped him when we saw the cool Charles de Gaulle monument in Columbey-Les-Deau-Eglises, a little over 102 km into the stage and a little after 8:15 p.m. Again, another town with a camping area and some cool monuments. It's the town where de Gaulle died, though we couldn't find his burial plot (I tried!!!). Dinner was in a nice hotel, but we arrived at 9 only to be told that they were closing by the waitress, but the guy behind the bar (owner?) said to serve us anyway. THANK GOODNESS as we were all famished! And, besides, the dinner was excellent - we all had the same thing ... salad with cheese and mozzarella, fish with rice (or it might have been barley) and dessert.
Monday we ferried Dave around Chaumont, a little bit larger city, and dropped him at 9:45 in a small town called Le Puits-des-Mezes. Time got a bit later as Dave was getting a bit more tired, but still ready to continue. Once he got on his bike, he trekked on the final 72 km to just outside Vittel with no problems. We took him to the other side of Vittel and he took off on Stage 13 at 1:35. This was a tough day with several mountains in the stage. We decided just to see how far he could get before it got dark and we'd stop there. He got through a Cat 3 (Cote de Xertigny), Cat 2 (Col de la Schlucht) and a Cat 1 (Col du Platzerwasel) before it started to get dark and we were a bit concerned. There was also a good area for parking and a small crepery for dinner. We stopped at the top of Platzerwasel (a ski hill)- Le Markstein - and settled in for the night. Again, as we approached the dinner area, we were told they were closing, but they would make crepes. Fine. The menu was just dessert crepes - fine with me, but Dave needed more protein. Ham and cheese crepes? Perfect. So dinner was ham and cheese crepes and fruit crepes (Dave and me) and chestnut creme (Jerry) for dessert. Awesome.
Thunderstorms and rain overnight made getting up Tuesday morning a bit difficult. The rain was coming down really hard, visibility was difficult and it was cold. Dave was already tired and becoming worn. We decided to pack up and go down the mountain to see if we could drive out of the rain. We got down to the bottom of the next climb - Cat 3 Col du Bannstein in Schweighouse and it cleared up enough for him to get going. We dropped him there at 10:57, unfortunately at the bottom of the climb. After a slow start, he got going and not only finished that climb, but the next, a Cat 1 Col du Firstplan, and finished that stage - 37 km - at 12:20 in Colmar. Colmar to Besancon was, thankfully, a bit flatter and would be his final catch up for his "diesel" day. He climbed out on the other side of Colmar in Sundhoffen at 1:10. Since it was Bastille Day in France, the streets were basically rolled up and no one was out. Gerry and I were able to just bomb through towns. We checked in periodically, but he kept a good pace throughout the afternoon and arrived in Besancon at 7:25 with daylight to spare. Not much energy to spare, but daylight!
We convinced Dave to take Wednesday off, as the exertion was incredible and he was extremely tired, so we had a good dinner in Besancon (Gerry had mussels and crayfish in a casserole- a fricasse that he said was fantastic and I said looked fairly gross; Dave had an omelet; and I had a burger in a crepe - didn't taste anything like an American burger!! Much better!!) and found a parking spot just off the highway.
We made a good decision as we awoke to thunderstorms overnight again. We got up and drove to a little place in between Besancon and Pontarlier (called Ornans) that was along the river, and had some coffee/tea. The place was so neat - it was an adventure park where kids were launching canoes to travel up the river and others were arriving with camping gear, I assume to travel upriver and camp. They also had zip lines and other gear. We arrived in Pontarlier, the start of tomorrow's Stage 15, around noon and checked intoa Campanile hotel. Free Wifi, wonderful rooms (we got one room and a second room for an additional 10 euros!!), hot showers, we got the laundry done downtown, we watched the Tour (though Dave actually slept through the final!) and caught up on the blog.
Dave starts the final third of his trip tomorrow. High Mountains await - the Alps. We head into Switzerland. He's not let us down yet and we don't expect him to give up any time soon. The trip has gotten better, thanks to Gerry! It would never have been possible without Fred and Jerry helping to salvage it (thanks, Judith, for loaning Gerry to us for 2 weeks!). As noted above, I'm eating again. Desserts here are fabulous! :) Liz, I've followed your instructions to find a patesserie and get something sinful. You DID say to do that daily, right?
Thank you ALL for your good wishes, prayers, thoughts and support. We've needed them and will continue to need them.
Merci
-Julie
Just a few more things ...
A couple more random thoughts ...
4. Getting yelled at by a French man is hilarious when you don't understand them. The gesticulations, the verbage, the enunciation, the total lack of caring that you don't understand-just so that they think they get their point across. The one day that I did drive, I had to go through a toll and was lost (I needed to go the other way on the toll road). I tried to ask the guy, and I think he was telling me that if I couldn't speak French, I shouldn't be driving. I whole-heartedly agree!
5. The French are also the GREATEST at flipping you off! Fred got the MOST enthusiastic flip off we've ever seen. Can't remember the town or even the situation, but the flip off was memorable.
6. Despite #4 and #5, the French are very happy to help. They've helped Dave many times when he's needed directions and one older man even stopped beside the motor home as we sat momentarily at a stop sign trying to decide where to go an asked if we needed help. Jerry said we were traveling the Tour route and he pointed us in the correct direction, which was just a bit up the road.
More things I'm sure to come ...
-Julie
4. Getting yelled at by a French man is hilarious when you don't understand them. The gesticulations, the verbage, the enunciation, the total lack of caring that you don't understand-just so that they think they get their point across. The one day that I did drive, I had to go through a toll and was lost (I needed to go the other way on the toll road). I tried to ask the guy, and I think he was telling me that if I couldn't speak French, I shouldn't be driving. I whole-heartedly agree!
5. The French are also the GREATEST at flipping you off! Fred got the MOST enthusiastic flip off we've ever seen. Can't remember the town or even the situation, but the flip off was memorable.
6. Despite #4 and #5, the French are very happy to help. They've helped Dave many times when he's needed directions and one older man even stopped beside the motor home as we sat momentarily at a stop sign trying to decide where to go an asked if we needed help. Jerry said we were traveling the Tour route and he pointed us in the correct direction, which was just a bit up the road.
More things I'm sure to come ...
-Julie
Update from July 9
Tolouse, France: Shit Happens!
Well as if this trip could not have gotten any more “adventurous,” we are now stuck at an Avis Motorhome rental center waiting for a tow truck. We picked up our next driving companion, Gerry, from Nova Scotia, at the Tolouse airport this morning just before noon. Gerry is a good friend of Fred and will accompany us on the remaining two weeks of our travels. This was a last-second arrangement to give Julie and I the assistance needed to continue on this quest. We stopped outside of Tolouse to re-fuel, re-fill our water tank and have lunch before the long transfer drive to Limonges. Shortly after departing the gas station, the motorhome began to run poorly and a service light showed up on the dash. We made a few calls and decided it was best to return to Tolouse after covering about 30K on the highway with reduced power in the engine. We made it to the rental dealer and they have diagnosed the problem. Yours truly put in what I thought was diesel but was clearly gasoline. The Moho will now not start. Julie and Gerry are sitting in the sun “enjoying a moment” while I type my confession.
My riding stage tomorrow (stage 10 of 21) is 195 Kilometers from Limoges to Issoudun. The last few days in the mountains have been like nothing I have ever experienced on or off a bike. The climbs to the tops of the Col de Serra-Seca, Andorre Arcalis, Port d’Envalira, Col d’Aspin and Col du Tourmalet were the most difficult I have ever ridden. In three of the cases, I rode through the clouds well above 2,100 meters where the cold, mist and visibility were treacherous on the descents. In some cases I could see no more than 50 feet in front of me and the road just disappeared with one hairpin turn after another and grades up and down of 9-13%. There were times on the descents when I was exhilarated and other times when I was just outright scared. Hitting 50-60 mph was only a question of how hard you needed to squeeze the brakes to avoid going completely out of control. Coming down from the Tourmalet was particularly treacherous with no guardrails and heavy fog/mist for the first part of the descent. In some ways I was glad I could not see what was (or was not) over the edge. Regardless, the ride stays on course with now a new obstacle to overcome. My appreciation for the difficulty of this sport and the talents of the professionals grows with each additional kilometer and climb covered. I have ridden thus far a bit over 1200 kilometers (not even 1K in the draft of another rider). I must also add a new found respect for all those who work in support of the riders to repair their bikes, navigate, feed, arrange lodging, etc. It is clearly a monumental task and Julie and Fred have kept my dream alive and, now, Gerry is here to help. It makes me feel that much more foolish for the gas/diesel error.
We have holed up in a hotel in a little town just south of Tolouse where the fuel is being pumped out, then engine cleaned and hopefully we can be back on the road by Friday afternoon. We’ll have to sort out how this is going to affect the trip, but meantime, Julie can go shopping. Keep your fingers crossed!
Best to all.
Dave
Well as if this trip could not have gotten any more “adventurous,” we are now stuck at an Avis Motorhome rental center waiting for a tow truck. We picked up our next driving companion, Gerry, from Nova Scotia, at the Tolouse airport this morning just before noon. Gerry is a good friend of Fred and will accompany us on the remaining two weeks of our travels. This was a last-second arrangement to give Julie and I the assistance needed to continue on this quest. We stopped outside of Tolouse to re-fuel, re-fill our water tank and have lunch before the long transfer drive to Limonges. Shortly after departing the gas station, the motorhome began to run poorly and a service light showed up on the dash. We made a few calls and decided it was best to return to Tolouse after covering about 30K on the highway with reduced power in the engine. We made it to the rental dealer and they have diagnosed the problem. Yours truly put in what I thought was diesel but was clearly gasoline. The Moho will now not start. Julie and Gerry are sitting in the sun “enjoying a moment” while I type my confession.
My riding stage tomorrow (stage 10 of 21) is 195 Kilometers from Limoges to Issoudun. The last few days in the mountains have been like nothing I have ever experienced on or off a bike. The climbs to the tops of the Col de Serra-Seca, Andorre Arcalis, Port d’Envalira, Col d’Aspin and Col du Tourmalet were the most difficult I have ever ridden. In three of the cases, I rode through the clouds well above 2,100 meters where the cold, mist and visibility were treacherous on the descents. In some cases I could see no more than 50 feet in front of me and the road just disappeared with one hairpin turn after another and grades up and down of 9-13%. There were times on the descents when I was exhilarated and other times when I was just outright scared. Hitting 50-60 mph was only a question of how hard you needed to squeeze the brakes to avoid going completely out of control. Coming down from the Tourmalet was particularly treacherous with no guardrails and heavy fog/mist for the first part of the descent. In some ways I was glad I could not see what was (or was not) over the edge. Regardless, the ride stays on course with now a new obstacle to overcome. My appreciation for the difficulty of this sport and the talents of the professionals grows with each additional kilometer and climb covered. I have ridden thus far a bit over 1200 kilometers (not even 1K in the draft of another rider). I must also add a new found respect for all those who work in support of the riders to repair their bikes, navigate, feed, arrange lodging, etc. It is clearly a monumental task and Julie and Fred have kept my dream alive and, now, Gerry is here to help. It makes me feel that much more foolish for the gas/diesel error.
We have holed up in a hotel in a little town just south of Tolouse where the fuel is being pumped out, then engine cleaned and hopefully we can be back on the road by Friday afternoon. We’ll have to sort out how this is going to affect the trip, but meantime, Julie can go shopping. Keep your fingers crossed!
Best to all.
Dave
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
Rogers Tests Positive For Steroids ! ! ! Out Of Tour? ?
Well, doesn't that sound like the headlines of the past 10 years of the Tour? Read on.....
We left you on the "Descent in to darkness" that was Axe Les Thermes. It is hard to describe how one moment you can be climbing in sunshine, only to reach a peak and cross over into a cloud of freezing mist, but that is the essence of the Pyrenees! When we reached the outskirts of Axe, Dave said something about his fingers getting itchy, and then his torso. Then he said "Look at my face !"
Turns out, Dave has been stung repeatedly by bees in the past week, and the one that got him on the side of the face coming down the mountain must have been the Queen! He started developing hives all over his torso, his face became a real mess, and all of a sudden we were in a race to find a hospital. France however, can have a rather relaxed health care system! The first hospital we found had a cadre of nurses smoking like chimneys outside the "Prevention" wing of the place, and no Emergency Room. After a few tense minutes involving broken French, a little creative map writing, Julie mentioned GPS. This got the girls quite excited, and a whole group of them materialized to see what was up. But we couldn't get the thing going quickly enough, so off we went with some vague directions including a tunnel, and the Buffalo Bill Grill!
Before too terribly long, we arrived in the hospital in the middle of nowhere and got Dave looked at. The look on the entry clerk's face was priceless when in reply to her inquiry for Dave's insurance card, Julie handed her the entire policy, written in English! (They won't be seeing any bill anytime soon !) Sometimes that dang insurance card is just too hard to find! After some oxygen, and prednisone, and an admonishment from the doctor that he would be testing positive if he were in competition, we finally got on our way again. Just in time to take in the grill, a hotel and some serious zzzz....zzzzz.....zzzzz...zzzzzz's ! ! !
- Freddy
We left you on the "Descent in to darkness" that was Axe Les Thermes. It is hard to describe how one moment you can be climbing in sunshine, only to reach a peak and cross over into a cloud of freezing mist, but that is the essence of the Pyrenees! When we reached the outskirts of Axe, Dave said something about his fingers getting itchy, and then his torso. Then he said "Look at my face !"
Turns out, Dave has been stung repeatedly by bees in the past week, and the one that got him on the side of the face coming down the mountain must have been the Queen! He started developing hives all over his torso, his face became a real mess, and all of a sudden we were in a race to find a hospital. France however, can have a rather relaxed health care system! The first hospital we found had a cadre of nurses smoking like chimneys outside the "Prevention" wing of the place, and no Emergency Room. After a few tense minutes involving broken French, a little creative map writing, Julie mentioned GPS. This got the girls quite excited, and a whole group of them materialized to see what was up. But we couldn't get the thing going quickly enough, so off we went with some vague directions including a tunnel, and the Buffalo Bill Grill!
Before too terribly long, we arrived in the hospital in the middle of nowhere and got Dave looked at. The look on the entry clerk's face was priceless when in reply to her inquiry for Dave's insurance card, Julie handed her the entire policy, written in English! (They won't be seeing any bill anytime soon !) Sometimes that dang insurance card is just too hard to find! After some oxygen, and prednisone, and an admonishment from the doctor that he would be testing positive if he were in competition, we finally got on our way again. Just in time to take in the grill, a hotel and some serious zzzz....zzzzz.....zzzzz...zzzzzz's ! ! !
- Freddy
Mountain stages ... Incredible!
The last three stages have been nothing short of amazing. Stage 6 took us from Girona to Barcelona, where Fred and I drove along the coast of the Mediterranean. However, the coast wasn’t the beach, it was high in the cliffs. Dave bombed through it like a pro. Several tunnels, outstanding views, yes – topless beaches (though far below), quaint towns. However, when we got to Granollers, we all got so lost we had to stop. It was late, we had made many errors and Dave had the mileage in anyway. There was no way we were going into the city so we stopped and finally found Dave (thank goodness for cell phones!) at the racetrack (Circuit de Catalaya) outside the city.
Stage 7 started outside Terrassa – again, we were not starting in the city as Terressa was confusing enough!! And headed north to Andorre Arcalis in the principality of Andorra. Dave hopped on and Fred and I went to view the monestary of Montserrat, which wasn’t far. After a hair-raising climb – 1,236 m above sea level – we viewed one of the most beautiful cathedrals and complexes I’ve ever seen with a panoramic that I thought could go forever. We didn’t stay long as Dave’s day included 1 Cat 4 climb, 2 Cat 3 climbs, a Cat 1 climb and a HC (unrated, because it’s so dang difficult) to finish the day. We sped ahead and met him outside Solsona and along the Cat 1 Col de Serra-Seca climb and descent. Again, talk about picturesque!! We got through the Cat 1 climb and descent (both Dave, Fred and I) when it started to cloud up. One thing we’ve discovered is that storms in the Pyrenees come in quickly and can be devastating. Fred and I had stopped, alarmed by how dark it was getting, at the bottom of this awesome descent. It started to sprinkle, then rain. Dave caught us and climbed in. Then the rain hit. Not just any rain, RAIN! Hail, wind, the ditches filled instantly. Apparently, that’s what happens in the Pyrenees! It kept on going, too. He still had 70k to go to Andorra, but after 1 ½ hours of waiting and Dave chilling, we called it quits. We camped overnight there – in Organya – had dinner and wine, early to bed.
We started Tuesday in Organya so Dave could finish the awesome climb to Andorra. And awesome it was. Andorra, another small principality, is unique. Very touristy, cheap and busy when you first enter the border, but as you go up toward the ski hill, which is what Aracalis is, it’s full of beautiful, alps-type villages. But it’s steep! And, not surprising, Dave completed the entire HC climb. So proud!! Then he hopped in the car and we went back to Andorra and started Stage 8. He did the climb from Andorra to the top of the ski hill at the French border (the next climb). Awesome! However, as we waited for him, the clouds started to come in - we were up high enough for it to be in another weather system. He got to the top around 5 p.m. and it was about 48 degrees! As he started down the mountain, toward Aux Les Therme, the fog was so heavy, you couldn't see more than 50 feet ahead. Finally, it got so dangerous, we made him get in the mo-ho until we got out of the fog, which was after we got over the Andorra border. We finally let him out and he descended into Aux des Therme.
That's where the story gets interesting again ... see the next entry....
- Julie
Stage 7 started outside Terrassa – again, we were not starting in the city as Terressa was confusing enough!! And headed north to Andorre Arcalis in the principality of Andorra. Dave hopped on and Fred and I went to view the monestary of Montserrat, which wasn’t far. After a hair-raising climb – 1,236 m above sea level – we viewed one of the most beautiful cathedrals and complexes I’ve ever seen with a panoramic that I thought could go forever. We didn’t stay long as Dave’s day included 1 Cat 4 climb, 2 Cat 3 climbs, a Cat 1 climb and a HC (unrated, because it’s so dang difficult) to finish the day. We sped ahead and met him outside Solsona and along the Cat 1 Col de Serra-Seca climb and descent. Again, talk about picturesque!! We got through the Cat 1 climb and descent (both Dave, Fred and I) when it started to cloud up. One thing we’ve discovered is that storms in the Pyrenees come in quickly and can be devastating. Fred and I had stopped, alarmed by how dark it was getting, at the bottom of this awesome descent. It started to sprinkle, then rain. Dave caught us and climbed in. Then the rain hit. Not just any rain, RAIN! Hail, wind, the ditches filled instantly. Apparently, that’s what happens in the Pyrenees! It kept on going, too. He still had 70k to go to Andorra, but after 1 ½ hours of waiting and Dave chilling, we called it quits. We camped overnight there – in Organya – had dinner and wine, early to bed.
We started Tuesday in Organya so Dave could finish the awesome climb to Andorra. And awesome it was. Andorra, another small principality, is unique. Very touristy, cheap and busy when you first enter the border, but as you go up toward the ski hill, which is what Aracalis is, it’s full of beautiful, alps-type villages. But it’s steep! And, not surprising, Dave completed the entire HC climb. So proud!! Then he hopped in the car and we went back to Andorra and started Stage 8. He did the climb from Andorra to the top of the ski hill at the French border (the next climb). Awesome! However, as we waited for him, the clouds started to come in - we were up high enough for it to be in another weather system. He got to the top around 5 p.m. and it was about 48 degrees! As he started down the mountain, toward Aux Les Therme, the fog was so heavy, you couldn't see more than 50 feet ahead. Finally, it got so dangerous, we made him get in the mo-ho until we got out of the fog, which was after we got over the Andorra border. We finally let him out and he descended into Aux des Therme.
That's where the story gets interesting again ... see the next entry....
- Julie
Monday, July 6, 2009
Random Thoughts from Dave
Mucho miles; high heat; driving Pyrennean rain; scary heights; Cat 1,3,4 climbs so far; descents you could not believe; 50 mph downhills like a snap; hairpin turns; broken rib; moho with bruises; wife needs a beach; topless beaches; fizzy lemonade; 34/27 gears; chamois cream; 2 flats; 250 km tomorrow (end of stage 6 + stage 7); cows with bells; old man with goats; Tourmalet in 2 days; 20K ride with Greg Henderson of Team Columbia Highroad; lost over and over again; full moon over the Mediterranean; sore parts; GU and Chomps for brunch, lunch and snacks; whey protein; cold moho showers; Ambien; Cancellara, Cavendish, Lance!?; too early but I believe; Hi to work, home, Green Bay, Team Kaos, Omaha, Mike, Jenny, Lucy, Liz, Kip, Mom; miss the dogs; Hello, Bon jour; Hola; Fred is the man; Jerry to the rescue; Julie, please eat; road becomes a river; vino; tears; late nights; long days; roundabouts x 100; moho turns on a dime (or a curb); Auchan...Auchan; unmarked routes; tiny cars; dogs in restauraunts; scooters; Tour de France; if it was easy....everyone would do it.
Au revoir, Adios, later.
- Dave
Au revoir, Adios, later.
- Dave
Just a few things...
1. You CAN burn rubber in a mo-ho.
2. Visiting Disney World is not the greatest introduction to the rest of the world.
3. If you want to stay married, to hell with hanging wall paper ... try doing this!
- Julie
2. Visiting Disney World is not the greatest introduction to the rest of the world.
3. If you want to stay married, to hell with hanging wall paper ... try doing this!
- Julie
Saturday, July 4, 2009
The tour of a lifetime?
OK, so all of you are "eagerly" anticipating this latest entry, huh? It's been ... what can we say ... an adventure? A nightmare? A little of both? I wanted to write the short version, but it's already been a week. Here goes...
We leave GB uncertain that the bike will be going with us. Something about the bike case not fitting in the plane. Dave is fit to be tied. He will go out and stuff it in himself if he needs to!! We watch as the baggage is loaded and yes, the bike goes on. Whew. We arrive in Nice at 11:30 a.m., on time, bike in tow, all the luggage but neither of us slept - even though both of us took Ambien (Lisa, it didn't work!). So we're exhausted. We get phones at the airport, which takes us about 45 minutes, and catch a cab to the mo-ho place ... which is closed until 2 because, yes, as we had been warned, the French take a 2-hour lunch break. I take a little nap on the sidewalk.
Laurent arrived and gave us a tour of the mo-ho, which to me is HUGE!! But it looks comfy - 2 double beds to sleep 4 (one is a table that folds down), lots of closet space, a bathroom with a shower, a fridge, a stove. We get in the mo-ho and Dave takes off. I just grip the door handle and hold on for life. Now, anyone who hasn't been to France (like me) wouldn't understand, but all the warnings about narrow roads, fast cars and horrible traffic were absolutely correct. We drove the short distance from Nice to Monaco, trying to take in the sights when I had my eyes open!!
Monaco is an interesting city. It's built on a mountain. The entire village goes up the mountain with little, little winding roads coming down - straight down - to the marina and the sea. We made our way down (oh, did I tell you that parking is horrible, scarce and nothing like we've ever seen before?) and wound up at the end of the marina in a bus spot next to where they dock cruise ships and the other bazillion-dollar ships. We parked, set up shop and took a nap, hoping no one would disturb us. No one did, though Dave did speak to a woman helping board the ship who said motor homes were not allowed in Monaco (whoops) and that we'd likely be told we had to move (double whoops). We hoped no one would see us, closed up the mo-ho and went to dinner along the waterfront - a place called Bars and Stars. Good food, but the best thing was that they had pictures of "stars" with the owner and we got a good laugh out of the picture labeled "Greg LeMond" when it really was Olympian Dan Jansen!
Walked around town, took pictures of the casino and the palace, got home and fell fast asleep... and this is where things take a turn...
Dave woke up the morning of the 30th ready to ride. 7 a.m. - bike out, get on, walkie talkies in place. He takes off and not two minutes later, he radios me. "I just crashed. I did an endo and am down. Can you come get me?" Thinking he was joking, I told him to knock it off. "Not joking," was the response. I look out and sure enough. He's down and some dock workers were walking over to him. He had apparently hit a grate that connects the docks and his tire completely stopped, but he didn't. We walked back to the mo-ho, where he took a deep breath and I heard a pop. Yup, he had to have broken one, if not two ribs. He collected himself, however, and went out and rode the 17 1/2 km route of the time trial around Monaco. I took a walk ... an anxious walk. When I arrived at the mo-ho, it was surrounded by tour buses and gas tankers (for the ships). I stayed away, hoping we didn't get towed and no one would connect me to it!
Dave finally returned, exhilarated but convinced that someone was going to crash in the TT. Difficult, difficult stage. We piled in the mo-ho and quickly made our exit, intending to get to the outskirts of town so Dave could get Stage 2 from Monaco to Brignoles in on the same day. We leave Monaco and, unfortunately, I get a taste of the roads. They are tight, winding, narrow, full of cars and drivers who are absolutely crazy, scooters, road directions that are very different than in the U.S., and this damn mo-ho is HUGE!! We get to a point just past a small town called Grasse and Dave asks if I want to try driving. OK, I'm going to have to at some point. I get in and am immediately struck by terror. I drive about 20 minutes, a little past Grasse, where there is a parking area and pull in. Dave decides to ride back toward Grasse to get mileage in - no way he'll get all the way back to Monaco. Then he'll come back to me and go onward while I drive. That's fine.
He puts in 42 km, knocks on the mo-ho door, I take a deep breath and start to drive by myself. I don't get more than 10 miles down this narrow, coast road before I take a wrong turn and try to correct it, only to go over a curb and mangle the step to the mo-ho and hang the whole vehicle up on the curb. I, of course, can't get out of this position, have blocked off traffic in this little town in the middle of a roundabout and, yes, the people come out of the shops and the "gendermane" approach. Luckily, they were extremely nice, spoke a little English, I asked them to drive the mo-ho for me and Dave happened upon this scene. All I said was he needed to drive and that was the beginning of my panic attack.
Needless to say, I couldn't get behind the wheel again, so Dave drove the whole way to Brignoles. We found a parking lot to park the camper, set up, and he tried to calm me down, with very little luck. We called Mike that day and explained the situation. He, too, bless his heart, tried to calm me down, but also took control and made some calls for us ... to our good friend Fred Shepard, who we were meeting in Barcelona on the 6th, and to the mo-ho company to see if there was any way to get a smaller vehicle or even a car/van.
We decided the 1st would be a rest day for me. I wasn't doing well - mentally or physically. Dave decided to ride the route back toward Grasse to get the mileage and then back to Brignoles. He did an awesome job - about 176 km. I slept and worried. The motor home company tried, but had no solutions. Fred, on the other hand, decided he would move his trip up and fly in on Thursday, the 2nd, and meet us in Montpelier on Friday, the 3rd, to give us some relief, sensing the urgency of the situation.
We drove to a small town outside of Marseilles that night and went to a pizza place. This is the third day that I've not eaten, but thankfully Dave is feeling great and has a good appetite. We camp in a shopping mall parking lot and are awakened by a truck unloading at 6:30 a.m.!
I decide I must drive, so Dave gets me to the highway, rather than the small roads, and he goes off on Stage 3 from Marseilles. I leave in the mo-ho, sweaty palms and all, and promptly get lost, go through towns I shouldn't, but finally get to the destination I'm suppose to meet him at and park. And wait, and wait. He calls, but he's lost, too. This isn't an easy thing to do the Tour before it's marked! He finally gets going and I move down the road. After about 5 hours, we finally meet up again. Of course, I sob in relief. He still has about 40 miles to go, so he sets off and I set off. Success. I make it to the end - having made several wrong turns and having gone through the town. He had a fabulous day, saw incredible scenery and put in the entire 180 km, having cut some off not leaving exactly from Marseille, but outside it, but adding mileage for being lost!
We drive on to Montpelier, where we park outside the tourism office with some other camper. We make our way across the street to be greeted by a beautiful central area where people are ambling about, playing frisbee, walking their dogs. There's a fountain and eateries. We go to a hamburger place. I'm still not hungry, but Dave is famished. We sleep well knowing Freddy is near!
Friday dawns only to discover that Fred actually got in on the train Thursday night after some issues, but we missed his call. We go to the train station and are very happy to see him. We eat at a Thai place and discuss plans for the mental health of Julie, as the trip has been quite stressful. Fred decides to take over driving for the next couple days, Dave will continue his successful rides and we'll talk about where this goes.
Montpelier is a beautiful city, but the traffic was horrendous and we decide, for safety sake, that there is no way Dave could safely navigate this route. The roads weren't marked and the maps weren't good. We decide that it's best to take a rest day and move on along the Mediterranean coast toward Stage 5, which starts in Cap d'Ange and goes to Perpignan. We stop along the way to experience Auchon, which is a shopping mart and has everything from fresh fish and cheese to clothing to TVs. An experience. We stop in a small coastal city called Sete, which is your typical fishing village, and take a walk around. Fred has some experience with the language so he's take it upon himself to begin teaching us and turning our trip around. We drive a bit further south and find a camping spot with other motor homes along the Mediterranean in the middle of nowhere. We walk along the beach and find it very calming ... finally. Dinner - mac and peanut butter in the mo-ho for Dave, wine and cheese for Freddy, I'm still not there (hey, it's a way to diet, but I don't recommend it).
We arise to the sea air, pack up and move along to Le Cap d'Ange where Fred and I deposit Dave along the side of the road. We get our maps and set a meeting spot. We move along the roads, seeing vineyards, olive groves and canals. I'm still holding tightly to the door handle as the roads are again country roads, small and narrow, but luckily not full of traffic. Luckily again, Fred is driving! We find our point to stop, and wait. And wait. Again, wrong turns (by both of us) and Dave goes out of his way. Somehow he gets past us (we still haven't figured this out), but he gets to a small town called Fieully. We tell him to wait and catch up. The little town is at the bottom of a Category 4 climb. We ask if he's done, as he's about 120 km into the ride, we're near the Pyrenness and we're seeing lightning over the mountains. Hell no. He takes off and climbs like a goat up the mountain. You'd never think he just rode 120 km in 85-90 degree heat. Awesome. We get to the top, tap off his water bottle and he wants to finish the ride. Again, hectic roads, but we meet near the cusp of the cap, deciding it unwise to ride into Perpignan. He finishes the day with 190 km.
Tonight we got a hotel in this very cute, touristy seaside village. I can't remember the name, but it's just to the west of Perpignan, on the Mediterranean. It's got lots going on. Went to dinner and Dave had steak, Fred had salmon, I had salad.
We made some decisions today. We decided that there was no way I could safely navigate the roads in France. The size of the motor home, the fact that it's stick shift, the small roads, traffic, signs, etc. Fred put out the word to some of his buddies and a fabulous friend of his, Jerry, from Halifax, is flying over on July 9 to meet us in Toulouse to help us continue this trip. He will take over the wheel as Fred is traveling back to Barcelona to do some business. Jerry will remain with us through July 23, navigating, while Dave will continue to ride and I, fortunately, may begin to eat again. And perhaps we'll all begin to enjoy some wine that France is so famous for.
By the way, Dave's ribs hurt, but aren't stopping him.
More soon. Keep us in your thoughts. By the way, my husband is awesome!! And Fast Freddy has come through for us and we can't tell the guy we love him enough!
- Julie
We leave GB uncertain that the bike will be going with us. Something about the bike case not fitting in the plane. Dave is fit to be tied. He will go out and stuff it in himself if he needs to!! We watch as the baggage is loaded and yes, the bike goes on. Whew. We arrive in Nice at 11:30 a.m., on time, bike in tow, all the luggage but neither of us slept - even though both of us took Ambien (Lisa, it didn't work!). So we're exhausted. We get phones at the airport, which takes us about 45 minutes, and catch a cab to the mo-ho place ... which is closed until 2 because, yes, as we had been warned, the French take a 2-hour lunch break. I take a little nap on the sidewalk.
Laurent arrived and gave us a tour of the mo-ho, which to me is HUGE!! But it looks comfy - 2 double beds to sleep 4 (one is a table that folds down), lots of closet space, a bathroom with a shower, a fridge, a stove. We get in the mo-ho and Dave takes off. I just grip the door handle and hold on for life. Now, anyone who hasn't been to France (like me) wouldn't understand, but all the warnings about narrow roads, fast cars and horrible traffic were absolutely correct. We drove the short distance from Nice to Monaco, trying to take in the sights when I had my eyes open!!
Monaco is an interesting city. It's built on a mountain. The entire village goes up the mountain with little, little winding roads coming down - straight down - to the marina and the sea. We made our way down (oh, did I tell you that parking is horrible, scarce and nothing like we've ever seen before?) and wound up at the end of the marina in a bus spot next to where they dock cruise ships and the other bazillion-dollar ships. We parked, set up shop and took a nap, hoping no one would disturb us. No one did, though Dave did speak to a woman helping board the ship who said motor homes were not allowed in Monaco (whoops) and that we'd likely be told we had to move (double whoops). We hoped no one would see us, closed up the mo-ho and went to dinner along the waterfront - a place called Bars and Stars. Good food, but the best thing was that they had pictures of "stars" with the owner and we got a good laugh out of the picture labeled "Greg LeMond" when it really was Olympian Dan Jansen!
Walked around town, took pictures of the casino and the palace, got home and fell fast asleep... and this is where things take a turn...
Dave woke up the morning of the 30th ready to ride. 7 a.m. - bike out, get on, walkie talkies in place. He takes off and not two minutes later, he radios me. "I just crashed. I did an endo and am down. Can you come get me?" Thinking he was joking, I told him to knock it off. "Not joking," was the response. I look out and sure enough. He's down and some dock workers were walking over to him. He had apparently hit a grate that connects the docks and his tire completely stopped, but he didn't. We walked back to the mo-ho, where he took a deep breath and I heard a pop. Yup, he had to have broken one, if not two ribs. He collected himself, however, and went out and rode the 17 1/2 km route of the time trial around Monaco. I took a walk ... an anxious walk. When I arrived at the mo-ho, it was surrounded by tour buses and gas tankers (for the ships). I stayed away, hoping we didn't get towed and no one would connect me to it!
Dave finally returned, exhilarated but convinced that someone was going to crash in the TT. Difficult, difficult stage. We piled in the mo-ho and quickly made our exit, intending to get to the outskirts of town so Dave could get Stage 2 from Monaco to Brignoles in on the same day. We leave Monaco and, unfortunately, I get a taste of the roads. They are tight, winding, narrow, full of cars and drivers who are absolutely crazy, scooters, road directions that are very different than in the U.S., and this damn mo-ho is HUGE!! We get to a point just past a small town called Grasse and Dave asks if I want to try driving. OK, I'm going to have to at some point. I get in and am immediately struck by terror. I drive about 20 minutes, a little past Grasse, where there is a parking area and pull in. Dave decides to ride back toward Grasse to get mileage in - no way he'll get all the way back to Monaco. Then he'll come back to me and go onward while I drive. That's fine.
He puts in 42 km, knocks on the mo-ho door, I take a deep breath and start to drive by myself. I don't get more than 10 miles down this narrow, coast road before I take a wrong turn and try to correct it, only to go over a curb and mangle the step to the mo-ho and hang the whole vehicle up on the curb. I, of course, can't get out of this position, have blocked off traffic in this little town in the middle of a roundabout and, yes, the people come out of the shops and the "gendermane" approach. Luckily, they were extremely nice, spoke a little English, I asked them to drive the mo-ho for me and Dave happened upon this scene. All I said was he needed to drive and that was the beginning of my panic attack.
Needless to say, I couldn't get behind the wheel again, so Dave drove the whole way to Brignoles. We found a parking lot to park the camper, set up, and he tried to calm me down, with very little luck. We called Mike that day and explained the situation. He, too, bless his heart, tried to calm me down, but also took control and made some calls for us ... to our good friend Fred Shepard, who we were meeting in Barcelona on the 6th, and to the mo-ho company to see if there was any way to get a smaller vehicle or even a car/van.
We decided the 1st would be a rest day for me. I wasn't doing well - mentally or physically. Dave decided to ride the route back toward Grasse to get the mileage and then back to Brignoles. He did an awesome job - about 176 km. I slept and worried. The motor home company tried, but had no solutions. Fred, on the other hand, decided he would move his trip up and fly in on Thursday, the 2nd, and meet us in Montpelier on Friday, the 3rd, to give us some relief, sensing the urgency of the situation.
We drove to a small town outside of Marseilles that night and went to a pizza place. This is the third day that I've not eaten, but thankfully Dave is feeling great and has a good appetite. We camp in a shopping mall parking lot and are awakened by a truck unloading at 6:30 a.m.!
I decide I must drive, so Dave gets me to the highway, rather than the small roads, and he goes off on Stage 3 from Marseilles. I leave in the mo-ho, sweaty palms and all, and promptly get lost, go through towns I shouldn't, but finally get to the destination I'm suppose to meet him at and park. And wait, and wait. He calls, but he's lost, too. This isn't an easy thing to do the Tour before it's marked! He finally gets going and I move down the road. After about 5 hours, we finally meet up again. Of course, I sob in relief. He still has about 40 miles to go, so he sets off and I set off. Success. I make it to the end - having made several wrong turns and having gone through the town. He had a fabulous day, saw incredible scenery and put in the entire 180 km, having cut some off not leaving exactly from Marseille, but outside it, but adding mileage for being lost!
We drive on to Montpelier, where we park outside the tourism office with some other camper. We make our way across the street to be greeted by a beautiful central area where people are ambling about, playing frisbee, walking their dogs. There's a fountain and eateries. We go to a hamburger place. I'm still not hungry, but Dave is famished. We sleep well knowing Freddy is near!
Friday dawns only to discover that Fred actually got in on the train Thursday night after some issues, but we missed his call. We go to the train station and are very happy to see him. We eat at a Thai place and discuss plans for the mental health of Julie, as the trip has been quite stressful. Fred decides to take over driving for the next couple days, Dave will continue his successful rides and we'll talk about where this goes.
Montpelier is a beautiful city, but the traffic was horrendous and we decide, for safety sake, that there is no way Dave could safely navigate this route. The roads weren't marked and the maps weren't good. We decide that it's best to take a rest day and move on along the Mediterranean coast toward Stage 5, which starts in Cap d'Ange and goes to Perpignan. We stop along the way to experience Auchon, which is a shopping mart and has everything from fresh fish and cheese to clothing to TVs. An experience. We stop in a small coastal city called Sete, which is your typical fishing village, and take a walk around. Fred has some experience with the language so he's take it upon himself to begin teaching us and turning our trip around. We drive a bit further south and find a camping spot with other motor homes along the Mediterranean in the middle of nowhere. We walk along the beach and find it very calming ... finally. Dinner - mac and peanut butter in the mo-ho for Dave, wine and cheese for Freddy, I'm still not there (hey, it's a way to diet, but I don't recommend it).
We arise to the sea air, pack up and move along to Le Cap d'Ange where Fred and I deposit Dave along the side of the road. We get our maps and set a meeting spot. We move along the roads, seeing vineyards, olive groves and canals. I'm still holding tightly to the door handle as the roads are again country roads, small and narrow, but luckily not full of traffic. Luckily again, Fred is driving! We find our point to stop, and wait. And wait. Again, wrong turns (by both of us) and Dave goes out of his way. Somehow he gets past us (we still haven't figured this out), but he gets to a small town called Fieully. We tell him to wait and catch up. The little town is at the bottom of a Category 4 climb. We ask if he's done, as he's about 120 km into the ride, we're near the Pyrenness and we're seeing lightning over the mountains. Hell no. He takes off and climbs like a goat up the mountain. You'd never think he just rode 120 km in 85-90 degree heat. Awesome. We get to the top, tap off his water bottle and he wants to finish the ride. Again, hectic roads, but we meet near the cusp of the cap, deciding it unwise to ride into Perpignan. He finishes the day with 190 km.
Tonight we got a hotel in this very cute, touristy seaside village. I can't remember the name, but it's just to the west of Perpignan, on the Mediterranean. It's got lots going on. Went to dinner and Dave had steak, Fred had salmon, I had salad.
We made some decisions today. We decided that there was no way I could safely navigate the roads in France. The size of the motor home, the fact that it's stick shift, the small roads, traffic, signs, etc. Fred put out the word to some of his buddies and a fabulous friend of his, Jerry, from Halifax, is flying over on July 9 to meet us in Toulouse to help us continue this trip. He will take over the wheel as Fred is traveling back to Barcelona to do some business. Jerry will remain with us through July 23, navigating, while Dave will continue to ride and I, fortunately, may begin to eat again. And perhaps we'll all begin to enjoy some wine that France is so famous for.
By the way, Dave's ribs hurt, but aren't stopping him.
More soon. Keep us in your thoughts. By the way, my husband is awesome!! And Fast Freddy has come through for us and we can't tell the guy we love him enough!
- Julie
Sunday, June 28, 2009
Arrivederci'
After much ado about everything and a few last-minute errands (Dave forgot extra tubes, socks, TRANQUILIZERS - not really) we're ready to leave. Next stop ... Nice, France. See you in 15 hours or so. The adventure begins ... oy veh.
Saturday, June 27, 2009
26 hours!!
So this is what the Honda looked like on Friday driving to Green Bay. 2 dogs, a cat and all their accoutrements, a bike, a bike box, 2 large suitcases, 2 carryons, Dad's Father's Day present plus various other things to hand over to people in Green Bay. Needless to say, the dogs spent all 10 hours on our laps (they were in heaven) and the cat barely cried (thank goodness). Oh, and when we left, we found out the back tire had a nail in it. Had it blown, we would have been quite a site alongside the road. Thank goodness it didn't.Made it Green Bay safely. 26 hours to go!!
Thursday, June 25, 2009
1 day to D-day
We leave for Green Bay tomorrow and there's still so much to do. We're overwhelmed. Can't figure out if we're taking too much or not enough for a month.
Dave's bike is finally together. Nothing like waiting until the last minute. He just got a new set of wheels so he has 2 sets to take on the trip. They're ROL wheels and look awesome. They're called d'Huez - how appropriate. The guy he worked with at ROL, Sean, was awesome and we can't say enough good stuff about him.
The bags are out. Dave is still "gathering." I've got mine pretty well packed. I'm sure we'll rip everything apart when we get to GB, but oh well.
More last-minute errands to run today while Dave works. Will the prep ever end?
Oh yes, and I've begun freaking out about driving the Mo-Ho. Dave was watching an old Tour the other night and I watched one of the climbs and had to go out of the room. We'll see how this epic adventure turns out....
-Julie
Dave's bike is finally together. Nothing like waiting until the last minute. He just got a new set of wheels so he has 2 sets to take on the trip. They're ROL wheels and look awesome. They're called d'Huez - how appropriate. The guy he worked with at ROL, Sean, was awesome and we can't say enough good stuff about him.
The bags are out. Dave is still "gathering." I've got mine pretty well packed. I'm sure we'll rip everything apart when we get to GB, but oh well.
More last-minute errands to run today while Dave works. Will the prep ever end?
Oh yes, and I've begun freaking out about driving the Mo-Ho. Dave was watching an old Tour the other night and I watched one of the climbs and had to go out of the room. We'll see how this epic adventure turns out....
-Julie
Sunday, June 21, 2009
I wasn't speeding, honest!
OK, so I'm driving along in Ian's little VW, minding my own business and concentrating on shifting, clutching, braking, etc. I must have been concentrating a bit too hard on other things and watching the wrong part of the odometer because an officer in Fort Calhoun suddenly turned on his lights and motioned me over. As I pulled over, I promptly killed the car - which may have been to my advantage! "Do you know how fast you were going?" "I thought I was going no more than 30." "I clocked you going 41. This is a residential area and the speed limit is only 25 mph. You were the only one on the hill." "Sorry, officer. Honest, I really thought I was going the speed limit. I'm trying to learn to shift in this car, as you can tell because I killed it stopping." Bless the officer's heart, he took pity on me and let me go, but only after telling me we'll love France (he was in Germany for a couple years while his wife was stationed there), the French people are nicer than people say, and to drive carefully."
Oh yes, yes officer. I will! Thank you!
Needless to say, I went at least 5 mph UNDER the speed limit for the rest of my training drive...
-Julie
Oh yes, yes officer. I will! Thank you!
Needless to say, I went at least 5 mph UNDER the speed limit for the rest of my training drive...
-Julie
Home stretch
We're in the final week. We'll be on a plane flying over the Atlantic exactly one week from today. OK, I just freaked myself out.
Dave was in Denver this weekend doing some riding in the mountains. He said he had some awesome rides with our friend, Marco. I'm sure he also had some great pep talks as Marco and his wife, Jacqueline, are world travelers. It'll be a good sendoff.
I drove again yesterday - by myself this time - and planned to drive today, too. Practice makes ... better. Still not perfect, but I'm feeling a lot more comfortable. The only thing I can't practice are the mountains and those will just have to be trial by fire. The first part of the Tour is fairly flat, so I'm hoping to get use to the Mo-ho before I have to conquer the mountains. Our good friend, Bonnie Ford, who has been covering the Tour for ESPN.com for the last 10 or 12 years (she's GREAT - read her stories at http://search.espn.go.com/bonnie-ford/last-7-days/19) gave me a pep talk, too. She was a wealth of knowledge and, frankly, I wish we could put her in the Mo-ho with us. We're hoping to catch up with her at some point during the Tour.
I guess all that's left this week is to pack, pack, re-pack (when we realize that the luggage is overweight, overstuffed or just overwhelmed) and then stuff the Honda with luggage, bike, dogs, cat and us for our trip to Green Bay.
The excitement builds...
-Julie
Dave was in Denver this weekend doing some riding in the mountains. He said he had some awesome rides with our friend, Marco. I'm sure he also had some great pep talks as Marco and his wife, Jacqueline, are world travelers. It'll be a good sendoff.
I drove again yesterday - by myself this time - and planned to drive today, too. Practice makes ... better. Still not perfect, but I'm feeling a lot more comfortable. The only thing I can't practice are the mountains and those will just have to be trial by fire. The first part of the Tour is fairly flat, so I'm hoping to get use to the Mo-ho before I have to conquer the mountains. Our good friend, Bonnie Ford, who has been covering the Tour for ESPN.com for the last 10 or 12 years (she's GREAT - read her stories at http://search.espn.go.com/bonnie-ford/last-7-days/19) gave me a pep talk, too. She was a wealth of knowledge and, frankly, I wish we could put her in the Mo-ho with us. We're hoping to catch up with her at some point during the Tour.
I guess all that's left this week is to pack, pack, re-pack (when we realize that the luggage is overweight, overstuffed or just overwhelmed) and then stuff the Honda with luggage, bike, dogs, cat and us for our trip to Green Bay.
The excitement builds...
-Julie
Saturday, June 20, 2009
1 week to go
The next trip is all about ME ... do you hear that Dave? Costa Rica...Australia...and the bike stays home! Oy veh...
-Julie
-Julie
Monday, June 15, 2009
Game On
The Lakers won the NBA Championship last night and the College World Series is churning out some exciting late inning heroics in Omaha. Brett Favre is thinking of becoming a ViQueen and surely Tiger is kicking somebody's ass in golf somewhere as we speak. But you know what, I could care less! In 14 days I will be landing in Nice, France, for the adventure of a lifetime. I feel a bit renewed as I actually had a solid ride tonight (3 hours) after work. My legs actually felt pretty fresh. Still a few bugs to work out on the bike but all in all I'm liking the way the Merlin Magia handles and it will be reasonably comfortable with a little more spring than the carbon bike. It doesn't have quite the snap on the climbs but overall I think it will be a good choice for the long miles. I got in 17 hours of riding last week, which was below the 21 I was shooting for. This week will be similar with the added fun of some altitude work with Marco on the weekend.
He always humbles me but is a great riding partner. Julie and our dogs continue their patient vigil as I am freed to ride and concentrate pretty much on work and fitness for now. Lots of love here at the Rogers house. Sleep time!
He always humbles me but is a great riding partner. Julie and our dogs continue their patient vigil as I am freed to ride and concentrate pretty much on work and fitness for now. Lots of love here at the Rogers house. Sleep time!
Countdown continues
We're closing in on the last week-and-a-half before we leave for France. Dave has gotten, and is taking, an opportunity to fly to Denver to see our good friends Marco and Jacqueline Vasquez (and little Marco) this weekend. He and Marco are going to do two uphill time trials Saturday and Sunday. Dave won't ride it competitively, or - thank goodness - take any risks, but it's a good opportunity to get some good ascent riding in before we leave. Needless to say, I encouraged him.
More stick shift driving under my belt, thanks to Ian's little VW GTI. I must say, I did pretty well. Only panicked once when I killed it after a stoplight on the highway and had vehicles behind me. That's down from the multiple panics in the previous drives, even when there were no vehicles for miles! I'm progressing. Dave even gave me a couple "excellent jobs" on my accelerations from stops to 1st gear. Yee-hah!
I actually started "staging" the things to bring on the trip in one of the bedrooms. Maps, books, camera with 8GB memory card, Garmin with European card, small first-aid kit, small backpack for touring, etc., etc. Liz is loaning us her camcorder and dad is loaning us his little binoculars. If anyone out there has suggestions for things to bring or otherwise, please send us comments. We don't want to forget anything as buying it in Europe, if necessary, will be more expensive.
On that note, I did see that the dollar is now at 1.385 Euros (down from a previous high around 1.42). Good news. Keep dropping, please!
Dave has the new Merlin built up, thanks to our Kaos friend Bryan Redemske. It turned out great and Dave said it's a fantastic ride. Stiffer than the Felt. He's still getting a few things dialed in, like the seat, but the ride in Denver will also help him with that. Still needs a few more things - most importantly an extra set of wheels - but the other things are little and he can buy at the bike shops around here or in Denver.
The excitement builds!!
- Julie
More stick shift driving under my belt, thanks to Ian's little VW GTI. I must say, I did pretty well. Only panicked once when I killed it after a stoplight on the highway and had vehicles behind me. That's down from the multiple panics in the previous drives, even when there were no vehicles for miles! I'm progressing. Dave even gave me a couple "excellent jobs" on my accelerations from stops to 1st gear. Yee-hah!
I actually started "staging" the things to bring on the trip in one of the bedrooms. Maps, books, camera with 8GB memory card, Garmin with European card, small first-aid kit, small backpack for touring, etc., etc. Liz is loaning us her camcorder and dad is loaning us his little binoculars. If anyone out there has suggestions for things to bring or otherwise, please send us comments. We don't want to forget anything as buying it in Europe, if necessary, will be more expensive.
On that note, I did see that the dollar is now at 1.385 Euros (down from a previous high around 1.42). Good news. Keep dropping, please!
Dave has the new Merlin built up, thanks to our Kaos friend Bryan Redemske. It turned out great and Dave said it's a fantastic ride. Stiffer than the Felt. He's still getting a few things dialed in, like the seat, but the ride in Denver will also help him with that. Still needs a few more things - most importantly an extra set of wheels - but the other things are little and he can buy at the bike shops around here or in Denver.
The excitement builds!!
- Julie
Thursday, June 11, 2009
Slow Twitch Dave
Preparation for this run at the tour route sure is different than the usual racing focus I have this time of year. The training intensity is down while the miles are up (I should have 380-400 miles for the week). Skipping all the local/regional races with my team to rack up the miles and avoid the risk of a crash has been quite out of character. I really miss the competition and the pre-race jitters, but this year the goals are different so I'm trying to keep the focus. I've been getting in generally 40-70 miles/night during the week and doing my longer rides on the weekend. I'm hoping that having the unique chance to ride without a full work week thrown into the mix will let me feel a bit more fresh. For now I'm feeling pretty worn down. I'm still struggling in my mind trying to comprehend the idea of doing so many successive 100+ mile days. It's uncharted territory for me to be sure. My daughter, Liz, told me tonight that on her recent birthday (23 on May 20th) she twittered Lance and told him all she wanted for her birthday was for him to post a message wishing me good luck in my quest to ride the TdF route. Needless to say he's been a little busy so I'm not expecting any good luck wishes from Mr. Armstrong, but it shows you just how special my daughter is! My good friend, Ian Gray, and his mates from Ciclismo Racing out of Fort Collins, CO, stayed with us this past weekend on their way to Minneapolis for the Nature Valley Grand Prix. Great bunch. Oh to be 20-something again! Also got a chance to catch up on the phone with my friend and former Team Kaos stud Matt Landen. Matt moved to the LA area this winter and is tearing it up for Team Liquid. He was recently pictured in a Rudy Project ad attacking Levi Leipheimer on a climb at the Tour of the Gila. Awesome photo Matt!
Tomorrow I'm going to finish building up my bike for the trip with my friend and Team Kaos mate Bryan Redemske. For any biker types reading I'll be riding a Merlin Magia with Campy Chorus 11 spd. Will work out the mechanical kinks in the next two weeks and get the rig dialed in before we head for Green Bay on the 26th. I'm scared and nervous but honestly, I can't wait to get to France and get this show on the road. Time to go beg Julie for a leg massage! Peace.....
Tomorrow I'm going to finish building up my bike for the trip with my friend and Team Kaos mate Bryan Redemske. For any biker types reading I'll be riding a Merlin Magia with Campy Chorus 11 spd. Will work out the mechanical kinks in the next two weeks and get the rig dialed in before we head for Green Bay on the 26th. I'm scared and nervous but honestly, I can't wait to get to France and get this show on the road. Time to go beg Julie for a leg massage! Peace.....
14 Days! 14 Days???
Do we really only have 14 days until we leave for Green Bay? OMG ... where did the time go? Dave got a good ride in last night, but I had to light his way home via car - picking him up in Blair at 9:30 and giving him headlights for the rest of the 13-mile ride to our house. He got 60 miles in. The weather will hopefully hold out for the next 2 weeks so he gets some great long rides.
Time to start setting out our stuff to pack. Guess we can't do our usual "toss everything in a bag the night before" routine (or, as Dave packs, the morning of). Starting to fret about how to pack for a month, how to bring all the things Dave needs (yes, I'm bringing a small first-aid kit!), uncertainty about what we can buy there and how accessible things will be (and how expensive!). I heard diesel is cheaper in Europe, so cross your fingers on that.
Shout out to our biker friend Ian Gray, who left his stick-shift car at our house for two weeks for me to practice on while he travels. Thank you, Ian. It's still in one piece and I haven't ground the gears ... yet.
Time to start setting out our stuff to pack. Guess we can't do our usual "toss everything in a bag the night before" routine (or, as Dave packs, the morning of). Starting to fret about how to pack for a month, how to bring all the things Dave needs (yes, I'm bringing a small first-aid kit!), uncertainty about what we can buy there and how accessible things will be (and how expensive!). I heard diesel is cheaper in Europe, so cross your fingers on that.
Shout out to our biker friend Ian Gray, who left his stick-shift car at our house for two weeks for me to practice on while he travels. Thank you, Ian. It's still in one piece and I haven't ground the gears ... yet.
Monday, June 8, 2009
Picking up a hitchhiker
We found out today that a good friend from Green Bay is possibly going to join us for a few days of our trip. Fred Sheppard was Dave's travel companion when he went to Belgium for the Spring Classics in 2005 and biked the routes of the Tour of Flanders and Paris-Roubaix. We have a great picture of Fred feeding Dave a HUGE French pastry from the window of the rental car!! We're looking at picking Fred up in Barcelona and taking him with us through the cruelty of Andorra and dropping him off a few days later alongside the road - or in Toulouse. :)
Fred knows Spanish (along with several other languages) and can also drive a stick, so we're of course welcoming him to the bus! Dave will be glad for the encouragement, I'll be glad for the assistance!!
Fred knows Spanish (along with several other languages) and can also drive a stick, so we're of course welcoming him to the bus! Dave will be glad for the encouragement, I'll be glad for the assistance!!
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
Euro vs. Dollar
If you haven't already heard, the dollar is sucking big-time against the Euro. Luckily, we've already paid off the two most expensive portions of the trip - the plane tickets and the motor home. Had we been paying off the motor home today, we would be paying almost $300 more than 2 weeks ago. Start praying for the exchange rate to start coming down in the next three weeks or I'm going to be making Mac 'n Cheese in France, too!
Saturday, May 30, 2009
Stick it!
Well, back to reality. We had our time with Little "Juicy" Lucy in Baltimore last weekend (have we said how absolutely perfect and adorable she is?) and now we have to get back to "training" for the Tour. My job is to learn how to drive a stick shift as the motor home is a manual (that's all they have in France). Today, Dave rented a little Mini Cooper, put on his driving cap and attempted to turn me into Mario Andretti. Ha ha ha ha ha ha ....
I have never in my life killed a car more times or burned rubber more times than I did this morning. ....
The concept is fine, the shifting is fine ... I understand all that. But starting from zero ... ARGH! Mike Dauplaise ... there is no such thing as "feathering" to get the clutch and gas to catch. And Jeff House ... your attempts to show me how to drive your car way back in college have made an indelible mark in my memory, and it's not a good one. I'm still driving backwards down Carson Hill in Eau Claire!
Dave was incredibly patient and he said I got a grade of a B, until I absolutely killed the car in the driveway, then he marked me down to a B-. Whoops.
I did take the car out to the mailbox, by myself, while he was out riding. It only took me 4 times to get going, and we do have a small skid mark in the driveway now. Oh well, that the price we pay for this trip.
I have never in my life killed a car more times or burned rubber more times than I did this morning. ....
The concept is fine, the shifting is fine ... I understand all that. But starting from zero ... ARGH! Mike Dauplaise ... there is no such thing as "feathering" to get the clutch and gas to catch. And Jeff House ... your attempts to show me how to drive your car way back in college have made an indelible mark in my memory, and it's not a good one. I'm still driving backwards down Carson Hill in Eau Claire!
Dave was incredibly patient and he said I got a grade of a B, until I absolutely killed the car in the driveway, then he marked me down to a B-. Whoops.
I did take the car out to the mailbox, by myself, while he was out riding. It only took me 4 times to get going, and we do have a small skid mark in the driveway now. Oh well, that the price we pay for this trip.
Friday, May 22, 2009
Little Lucy Rogers has arrived
We are grandparents!! Little Lucy Grace Rogers arrived on Wednesday, May 20, 2009. All is well with the family and we can't be more excited. Big, big eyes that already seem to be trying to figure out the world. We get to see her this weekend in Baltimore. Let the spoiling begin!
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
Nebraska headwinds = French Alps
So as I was finishing the ride Julie referenced on Sunday I was trying to convince myself that the headwinds in Nebraska are somehow a reasonable stand-in for climbing some ridiculous mountain in Andorra or France or Switzerland. Ignorance is bliss and I'm going to keep it that way for 5 more weeks and just keep looking for another 30 mph "Nebraska Clipper" to keep me in good humor. This weekend I will get to hit some good climbing outside of Baltimore when Julie and I go to meet our new grandbaby! Mike (our son) and Jenny (our daughter-in-law) are getting the action started with labor induction at 5:30 am tomorrow. Mother nature just wasn't getting the job done so a little pharmacology is in order. I think we will all have a restless night anticipating the big news tomorrow!
The Tour - on a map
Tonight, Dave and I actually sat down and mapped out the entire tour on a map of France (we're hoping to get a race bible somehow to discern the exact roads and what we'll need to bypass). Let me tell you, if Dave isn't overwhelmed, at least I am.
Maybe it looks different in person, but on a map - there's a helluva lot of ground to cover. Plus he wants to add in a ride up Alp d'Huez at the end. I'm just tired thinking about the driving!! I think I'm getting a bit more nervous about his riding now that I've seen where the routes go. Some of them go through big, big cities, others go through little towns, others go through ... nothing, oh, except those HUGE, HUGE mountains they call the Swiss and French Alps or the Pyrenees or ... or ... excuse me while I get a bag and hyperventilate.
We've decided that I might just pick him up on the outskirts of some of the big cities and drive him to the other side (well, hopefully he'll drive ... I STILL haven't begun my lessons in driving a stick shift). There are a couple of long drives between cities that the pros actually fly to (we may be taking two days to do at least one of the drives). And the mountains, did I mention the mountains?
Yeah, the motor home is equipped with a stick shift. They only rent stick shifts in France for motor homes. The only problem ... I've never learned to drive a stick shift. We have 5 weeks or less for me to learn. That freaked me out, but the "freaking" got even worse when I asked if going up the hills was the most challenging (this said, because the last time I tried to learn a stick shift was when Jeff House tried to teach me in college and I couldn't get up the hill at the football stadium; I wound up letting the cars go around me and backing back down, getting out and swearing I'd never drive a stick again - Vicki, do you remember that because you were laughing in the back seat?). No, Dave said, the worst part is really going down the hills. Did I mention the mountains yet? DOWN THE HILLS? Does he mean, off the side of mountain?
Oy veh.
- Julie
Maybe it looks different in person, but on a map - there's a helluva lot of ground to cover. Plus he wants to add in a ride up Alp d'Huez at the end. I'm just tired thinking about the driving!! I think I'm getting a bit more nervous about his riding now that I've seen where the routes go. Some of them go through big, big cities, others go through little towns, others go through ... nothing, oh, except those HUGE, HUGE mountains they call the Swiss and French Alps or the Pyrenees or ... or ... excuse me while I get a bag and hyperventilate.
We've decided that I might just pick him up on the outskirts of some of the big cities and drive him to the other side (well, hopefully he'll drive ... I STILL haven't begun my lessons in driving a stick shift). There are a couple of long drives between cities that the pros actually fly to (we may be taking two days to do at least one of the drives). And the mountains, did I mention the mountains?
Yeah, the motor home is equipped with a stick shift. They only rent stick shifts in France for motor homes. The only problem ... I've never learned to drive a stick shift. We have 5 weeks or less for me to learn. That freaked me out, but the "freaking" got even worse when I asked if going up the hills was the most challenging (this said, because the last time I tried to learn a stick shift was when Jeff House tried to teach me in college and I couldn't get up the hill at the football stadium; I wound up letting the cars go around me and backing back down, getting out and swearing I'd never drive a stick again - Vicki, do you remember that because you were laughing in the back seat?). No, Dave said, the worst part is really going down the hills. Did I mention the mountains yet? DOWN THE HILLS? Does he mean, off the side of mountain?
Oy veh.
- Julie
Bike case is here
We got Dave's new bike case. It's a Bike Pro USA race case. It's soft-sided with hard plastic inserts and padding (though I think we'll add more with egg-crate padding). The front tube of the bike is actually locks into place. He can actually carry 2 sets of wheels (a necessity for this trip) and a lot of "stuff" in the bag. Seems easier to tote around than the big, heavy hard-sided bags. It will also be a little easier to tuck away in the motor home. We're going to give it a test run this weekend on our trip to Baltimore to see our grandbaby (to be born tomorrow - Wednesday). Hopefully it stands up to the airport baggage carriers!
Monday, May 18, 2009
106-mile training ride
This is Dave yesterday after he got home from a 6-hour, 106-mile training ride ... "Sugar, water, sugar ... gasp, gasp ... just give me a bowl of Frosted Mini-Wheats."
Granted he road about 40 miles into a headwind ...
Granted he road about 40 miles into a headwind ...
Friday, May 15, 2009
A view from the saddle...
Let my first post emphasize that my wife is the most awesome person that I know. She not only tolerates this craziness, she actually encourages me along the way. Well, I hope she has stored up a lifetime worth of good karma because this trip is over the top.
I first got hooked on the tour in 1986 when Greg Lemond won his first of three. I got hooked on riding in 1971, at the age of 12, when my best friend at the time (Ben Hinton) convinced me to ride a century (100 miles) with he and his dad (Don), who was president of the local bike club (The La Crosse Wheelmen). Riding in tennis shoes and a pair of nylon running shorts, my raw crotch and aching body were oh-so-happy to end the ride after 75 miles due to a mechanical failure on my bike that could not be repaired at the ride. In high school and college, football took over as my first love and cycling fell into obscurity until 1984 when another great friend (Brad Flick) who I worked with in Kansas City convinced me to enter a Triathon in Topeka, Kan. There were two problems with this idea ... I had no experience in distance running and I didn't know how to swim!
Relatively minor details that would be overcome by the enduring love of a challenge that seems to persist in my life. Fast forward to 2004 after more triathlons, bike races and crashes than I can count, I have now given up running (the four knee surgeries and two foot and ankle surgeries eventually put an end to the running). Biking is now king and I'm enjoying the sport with our local team in Green Bay, Wis (The Bellin Health/In Competition Cycling Team). On one fateful day of training in July of that year, a relatively low-speed crash left me laying in the road with a broken left hip/femur.
Julie and the kids (son Mike and daughter Liz) met me in the ER (wasn't the first time) and I went to the OR that night where my friend and orthopedic surgeon, Dr. Marc Anderson, screwed my leg back together. Unfortunately the screws didn't do the trick so we got to repeat the surgery about 10 days later with plates, screws and a large bolt that remain in my hip today.
I resumed riding in early September and that Christmas, my family rewarded me with a two-week trip to Belgium and France with my good friend and cycling enthusiast Fred Sheppard to attend the Spring Classics (famous 100-year-old-plus single-day bike races held in Belgium, France and Italy each spring) as impetus to get back to hard training. We would see the famous Tour of Flanders, Gent Wevelgem and Paris Roubaix. The Tour of Flanders and Paris Roubaix are considered the most difficult single-day races in cycling. Each is 256 km long (about 154 miles) and both cover many sections of rough cobblestone roads that jar the body like you can't believe. I said to Fred, "if we're going all that way to watch the races, I think I should try to ride the courses." The next 3 months are just a blur of riding the trainer, rollers, plowed frozen fields and frigid Wisconsin roads. By late March I was ready, and by the end of the trip I had seen and experienced the greatest cycling culture on earth and had achieved the goals I set forth. It was then that I knew the next and ultimate cycling challenge could only be the route of the Tour de France. It would be the "Everest of Cycling" if completed, but even getting to "base camp" would be an accomplishment.
In keeping with my habit of making life just a bit more challenging, I decided to "kiss the pavement" again in July of 2007 with a spectacular crash on Maple Street in Omaha, Neb.
Knocked unconscious with a broken collarbone, 4 broken ribs, a shattered scapula and a punctured lung, I enjoyed some really good drugs in the Trauma Unit at the University of Nebraska Medical Center for several days with surgery on the collarbone to follow.
By now family and friends were begging me to hang up the cleats but for some reason, that thought just nevers seem to enter my mind. So here I am, still riding and still dreaming. In 6 weeks I'll be off to France to take on some unfinished business on the "Bucket List." I hope you will stay tuned in for the ride.
- Dave
I first got hooked on the tour in 1986 when Greg Lemond won his first of three. I got hooked on riding in 1971, at the age of 12, when my best friend at the time (Ben Hinton) convinced me to ride a century (100 miles) with he and his dad (Don), who was president of the local bike club (The La Crosse Wheelmen). Riding in tennis shoes and a pair of nylon running shorts, my raw crotch and aching body were oh-so-happy to end the ride after 75 miles due to a mechanical failure on my bike that could not be repaired at the ride. In high school and college, football took over as my first love and cycling fell into obscurity until 1984 when another great friend (Brad Flick) who I worked with in Kansas City convinced me to enter a Triathon in Topeka, Kan. There were two problems with this idea ... I had no experience in distance running and I didn't know how to swim!
Relatively minor details that would be overcome by the enduring love of a challenge that seems to persist in my life. Fast forward to 2004 after more triathlons, bike races and crashes than I can count, I have now given up running (the four knee surgeries and two foot and ankle surgeries eventually put an end to the running). Biking is now king and I'm enjoying the sport with our local team in Green Bay, Wis (The Bellin Health/In Competition Cycling Team). On one fateful day of training in July of that year, a relatively low-speed crash left me laying in the road with a broken left hip/femur.
Julie and the kids (son Mike and daughter Liz) met me in the ER (wasn't the first time) and I went to the OR that night where my friend and orthopedic surgeon, Dr. Marc Anderson, screwed my leg back together. Unfortunately the screws didn't do the trick so we got to repeat the surgery about 10 days later with plates, screws and a large bolt that remain in my hip today.
I resumed riding in early September and that Christmas, my family rewarded me with a two-week trip to Belgium and France with my good friend and cycling enthusiast Fred Sheppard to attend the Spring Classics (famous 100-year-old-plus single-day bike races held in Belgium, France and Italy each spring) as impetus to get back to hard training. We would see the famous Tour of Flanders, Gent Wevelgem and Paris Roubaix. The Tour of Flanders and Paris Roubaix are considered the most difficult single-day races in cycling. Each is 256 km long (about 154 miles) and both cover many sections of rough cobblestone roads that jar the body like you can't believe. I said to Fred, "if we're going all that way to watch the races, I think I should try to ride the courses." The next 3 months are just a blur of riding the trainer, rollers, plowed frozen fields and frigid Wisconsin roads. By late March I was ready, and by the end of the trip I had seen and experienced the greatest cycling culture on earth and had achieved the goals I set forth. It was then that I knew the next and ultimate cycling challenge could only be the route of the Tour de France. It would be the "Everest of Cycling" if completed, but even getting to "base camp" would be an accomplishment.
In keeping with my habit of making life just a bit more challenging, I decided to "kiss the pavement" again in July of 2007 with a spectacular crash on Maple Street in Omaha, Neb.
Knocked unconscious with a broken collarbone, 4 broken ribs, a shattered scapula and a punctured lung, I enjoyed some really good drugs in the Trauma Unit at the University of Nebraska Medical Center for several days with surgery on the collarbone to follow.
By now family and friends were begging me to hang up the cleats but for some reason, that thought just nevers seem to enter my mind. So here I am, still riding and still dreaming. In 6 weeks I'll be off to France to take on some unfinished business on the "Bucket List." I hope you will stay tuned in for the ride.
- Dave
About the trip
It's funny how different people have reacted to this trip. I need to clear up a few misconceptions:
No, Dave will not be riding the Tour de France with Lance and the boys. Though we all think Dave is a great bike rider, he's not THAT good! (No disrespect meant, Dave!) Lance and the boys are professionals, meaning they don't have to work a second job in order to earn an income. They can just ride their bikes each and every day. Dave, on the other hand, NEEDS his job at Children's in order for us to take this trip ... or eat, for that matter. He's only an amateur racer. He's what is classified, in biking terms, as a Cat 3 racer.
On the other hand, Dave WILL be riding as much of the same route as Lance and the boys will be riding as he can, only a few days earlier. Unfortunately, when the Tour occurs, roads and traffic are shut down in order for the race to come through the cities and towns along the route. Dave won't be so fortunate, so he will have to put up with traffic and other obstacles. In fact, in Monaco, the route goes the wrong way on a one-way street. He may need to pass on that for safety's sake and take a parallel route.
Now, hold your breath - for those who don't know how long the route is, Dave will be trying to ride approximately 3,471 km, or for those of us who need an American translation - about 2,160 miles. Yeah, so I can barely ride 20 miles, let alone 100-plus times that. The route covers three weeks (the Tour begins on July 4 and ends on July 26 - watch it on Versus, if you get that channel), starting in Monaco and ending in Paris. There are three short days (a 9-mile time trial in Monaco - but don't let the length fool you, it is extremely hilly - a 22-mile team time trial in Marseille, France, and a 24 mile time trial in Annecy, France), but most days are between 96 miles and 135 miles (the longest being a mountainous 135-mile stretch between Barcelona, Spain, and Andorra). He'll have two rest days, the first after about nine days and the second after another 6 days.
One big detour we will be taking is Dave won't be riding the last leg of the Tour, which is into Paris (it's a 96-mile day). In talking to friends, one journalist friend in particular of mine who covers the race for ESPN.com, they told us to stay away from the chaos of Paris. We decided to heed that advice. Thus, if Dave is up for it, we may take his final day and go find another mountain for him to climb in France before we pack up.
Lofty goals, we know. But we're excited to be able to do this and to do this together. Who better to do this kind of trip with than with your best friend?
No, Dave will not be riding the Tour de France with Lance and the boys. Though we all think Dave is a great bike rider, he's not THAT good! (No disrespect meant, Dave!) Lance and the boys are professionals, meaning they don't have to work a second job in order to earn an income. They can just ride their bikes each and every day. Dave, on the other hand, NEEDS his job at Children's in order for us to take this trip ... or eat, for that matter. He's only an amateur racer. He's what is classified, in biking terms, as a Cat 3 racer.
On the other hand, Dave WILL be riding as much of the same route as Lance and the boys will be riding as he can, only a few days earlier. Unfortunately, when the Tour occurs, roads and traffic are shut down in order for the race to come through the cities and towns along the route. Dave won't be so fortunate, so he will have to put up with traffic and other obstacles. In fact, in Monaco, the route goes the wrong way on a one-way street. He may need to pass on that for safety's sake and take a parallel route.
Now, hold your breath - for those who don't know how long the route is, Dave will be trying to ride approximately 3,471 km, or for those of us who need an American translation - about 2,160 miles. Yeah, so I can barely ride 20 miles, let alone 100-plus times that. The route covers three weeks (the Tour begins on July 4 and ends on July 26 - watch it on Versus, if you get that channel), starting in Monaco and ending in Paris. There are three short days (a 9-mile time trial in Monaco - but don't let the length fool you, it is extremely hilly - a 22-mile team time trial in Marseille, France, and a 24 mile time trial in Annecy, France), but most days are between 96 miles and 135 miles (the longest being a mountainous 135-mile stretch between Barcelona, Spain, and Andorra). He'll have two rest days, the first after about nine days and the second after another 6 days.
One big detour we will be taking is Dave won't be riding the last leg of the Tour, which is into Paris (it's a 96-mile day). In talking to friends, one journalist friend in particular of mine who covers the race for ESPN.com, they told us to stay away from the chaos of Paris. We decided to heed that advice. Thus, if Dave is up for it, we may take his final day and go find another mountain for him to climb in France before we pack up.
Lofty goals, we know. But we're excited to be able to do this and to do this together. Who better to do this kind of trip with than with your best friend?
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
A Blogger's Beginning
I'm a copy editor, and I've told everyone I'm not a writer, so we'll see where this goes. Dave and I are preparing for our "epic" journey - a month-long trip to France (June 28 to July 29) with pitstops in Monaco, Spain, Andorra, Switzerland and Italy. We get to see the Mediterranean, the French Riviera, the French Alps, the Swiss Alps and more. Let's just hope we don't get to see any pave' along the way (that's French for 'pavement' for all you Americans!). We bought the tickets - I thought there were bargains out there for European trips, but I thought wrong! We rented the mobile home (I'm hoping this home/car/dining room on wheels is a bargain because the sticker shock still hasn't gone away). The pups are staying with our incredible breeder in Green Bay (we LOVE them), which means we're flying OUT of Green Bay (damn the 10-hour drive, but we can sleep on the 15-hour flight!). Liz gets the cat back. We've got someone to watch the house, mow the lawn. We bought the maps, tour guides and French phrase book. With a month-and-a-half to go, we're in pretty good shape, right??? .... ah, no! Now Dave is buying his biking gear. A new bike box, a new crank (isn't he cranky already?), building up the Merlin so he can decide if that's what he wants to take (was THAT in the deal????), new wheels (??), etc., etc. Hmmmm, something's fishy here.
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