#TCRNo7Cap127 – Aidan Allcock
Registration – Fri 26 July 2019
I was relieved when the cardboard box containing my bike rolled through the oversize luggage hatch at Burgas airport. I had read reports of bikes going missing on airlines and it would have been a nightmare trying to recover it before the race. I was hoping it was still in one piece.
It was 9pm and I carried the box outside and into a taxi while six other cyclists assembled their bikes at the curb side for the ride into town. Once at the hotel, I checked that it was undamaged and then went out for a late night kebab as nothing else was open.
In the morning I rode to registration at the same time as everyone else and it took a few hours of queuing to register, have the bike checked and get the satellite tracker set up. Still, I got to chat with a lot of people. Once registered, I went on an easy ride around town and tried to find some CO2 cartridges. Everyone had the same idea but I managed to get the last two cartridges at the 6th bike shop I tried. Happy days.
The rider briefing later in the afternoon was relaxed and I felt good about the ride to come. Next morning I was up at 4am to make sure I was ready for the start at 6am. I was nervous. Just before 6am everyone started ringing their bells. The guy next to me said “oh we’re doing the bell thing then?”, and reached behind his saddle and honked his horn. We all cheered.
Then we set off. It was great to be on my way.
Start Parcours – Sat 27 July
The first 10k behind the escort along the dual carriageway was uneventful. We peeled off onto the start parcours. The surface was good and started to undulate gently. My legs felt strong as we hit the first off road section up and over a hill. It was mostly double track, hard packed earth and gravel. There were ruts in places, and although I needed to concentrate, it was nothing my 25mm road tyres couldn’t handle. We were soon back on the road. The route then alternated between severely potholed roads, track and the odd stretch of fast main road for the rest of the parcours.
The off road section had dislodged my handlebar bottle cage. So I stopped at the first town to fix it. I spent a full 30 mins dismantling and tightening it, only for it to slip again at the first pothole. A cable tie sorted it for the rest of the race.
After the start parcours, everyone went the same way to get to Control 1. There really was only one good route. On through small Bulgarian towns that all began to look the same after a while, and along the main roads connecting them. I saw Ahmed a few times, who I’d met at the hotel in Burgas. Riders were fairly close together and passing each other frequently.
Control 1 – Sat 27 July
We turned off the main road onto the Control 1 parcours past a massive statue of a leader from the communist era. It was immense and intimidating. The Bulgarian statues were quite something and we could see the Control 1 monument high up on the hill. It looked a long way up. We toiled up the hill in the afternoon heat until we reached the statue, and then came down a little way to the Control. I was relieved to get the first one under my belt. The Parcours carried on along narrow poorly surfaced lanes as it got dark. The second major climb to the freedom monument was next. Higher than the first and in the dark, with the last stretch along a track.
Control 1 to Control 2
After the monument was a switch back section down the mountain and my first encounter with wild dogs. A pack of three waited for me on a hairpin corner in the dark, barking menacingly. I had to slow down for the corner and expected them to chase as I accelerated. To my surprise they didn’t follow.
I carried on through the night. At one point I stopped to apply insect repellent and half of the contents of my bag fell out in the dark. I must have lost my deodorant at that point, but I didn’t miss it for a few days.
I hit Sofia in the afternoon of day 2. I had routed to the south of the city along service roads next to the main bypass. It worked well for a while and I stopped at a fuel station for supplies, but soon after, the service road disappeared and I wasn’t allowed to go on the highway. I had no alternative but to pick my way through the streets of Sofia in the general direction of my route. This wasted time. Once past Sofia, it was straightforward along good roads to Serbia.
Serbia – Sun 28 July
I was joined by a couple of other riders as we made our way to the border crossing. The scenery changed dramatically. The arid hills of Bulgaria being replaced by the dense forested hills of Serbia.
I was quite nervous as we approached the border and the serious border guards didn’t disappoint as they scrutinised our passports and asked if we had anything to declare. I looked at my meagre saddle bag and almost said something flippant, but held my tongue. The guard didn’t look like he had a sense of humour. Then he waved us through and on our way.
It was early evening on day 2 when I rolled into Bosilegrad at the start of the parcours for Control 2. I’d had no sleep yet, but I wanted to crack on. I got some Serbian cash from the bank, resupplied for the night and set off with a few other riders up the road to Besna Kobila.
Control 2 – Mon 29 July
The parcours for Control 2 did not follow just any road. It wasn’t simply an off road track. This was the Russian Road up to the top of Besna Kobila. I was about to have one of the most insanely challenging nights ever.
It started quite benignly along a gently sloping sandy unpaved road. Some locals were racing cars along the lower slopes and there were some yappy dogs, but nothing to worry about. I stopped to put on my arm and leg warmers and light-up, while the others carried on. After a while the road got steeper and alternated between sand on the corners and gravel on the straights. It was all rideable but very, very tiring, especially when I ran out of gears. On and on, up and up in the dark I went. On one side was the steep slope up the mountain. On the other was a drop off through the forest. There was only the road in between. Winding its way on and on up the mountain.
I passed Ehrl Daniel who had crawled into his bivvi bag right there on the road. A nimble Italian rider overtook me and seemed to float over the rocks as if it was smooth tarmac. Still the road continued upwards.
Then the storm began. It started with lightning but no thunder. Flashes of purple ahead in the night. It was awesome. The wind picked up, the thunder came and the rain began. Heavy showers interspersed with moderate rain. I stopped under trees to avoid the heaviest downpours but was still soaked to the skin. It was miserable and exhilarating at the same time. Insanely tough but I was lucky to be experiencing something unique and mind blowingly awesome. As I ground my way up in the wind and rain through the dark I kept telling myself “you will keep going until you reach the top”. I even sang ‘You’ll never walk alone’ to keep my spirits and concentration up.
Eventually I got to the coll where the hostel was located. The hardest and steepest section still to come. It was getting on for midnight and I was tired and soaked. I’d been going for over 40 hours without sleep and took a breather under an awning. To my surprise there was someone outside the hostel. I went over to ask if I could get a coffee before the final push.
The guy expected me to want a bed and couldn’t understand why I wanted to go back out into the storm. I found it difficult to switch off from my compulsion to get to the summit before collapsing, and not before. However, I eventually came to the right decision. Stop for sleep and push on after the storm. So the manager took my passport and I paid 10 euro for the bed. After a shower and a kit wash I got 3 hours sleep. At 3am I got up and put on my wet kit, ready for the final push. But the proprietor had disappeared with my passport! I roamed the halls calling for him but no one stirred. There were boots outside a few of the rooms but I didn’t go in. By 4am I gave up and decided to go to the summit and pick up my passport on the way back down.
It had stopped raining and was almost light. I rode half the way and pushed the bike up the steep gravel section to the weather station. I’d made it! Up the Russian Road at night and through a thunder storm. I felt a sense of unrivalled achievement. If I can do this I can do anything!!!
There were a couple of other riders at the top and Tanja Hacker had set up her bivvi in the shelter of the weather station. She must have been freezing overnight. I rode back down the track (thanks Paul Mabley for the off-road training) and back to the hostel. I hit a sandy rut on the way down and slipped over. It was a slow motion fall so I wasn’t hurt. Back at the hostel the manager had reappeared. I got my passport, cleaned and lubed the chain and set off down the well paved road to Control 2 at Vrange Banja.
I reached the control at 8am. A quick chat and sun cream application later and I was back on the road. In good spirits.
Control 2 to Control 3
This was a big section through Serbia, Croatia, Slovenia and into Austria.
Serbia
The first thing I learned about Serbian main roads is that safe passing distances don’t exist. The roads seemed to be slightly too narrow so it was not possible for trucks to pass cyclists safely if any vehicles came the other way, especially other trucks. This didn’t stop them from trying. Trucks would pull out to overtake, then cut back in half way through the manoeuvre if any traffic was coming the other way. My choice was simple, either get squished or hop onto the verge.
The second thing I learned about Serbian roads is that well paved quiet roads don’t exist. Many were not paved and were surfaced in loose gravel. My route was generally main roads with a few gravel back roads thrown in for good measure. Some roads were still being worked on and the cars threw up clouds of dust from the gravel, which I inhaled, and coated me and the bike, mixing with the sun cream and insect repellent to create a paste.
I met Tanja Hacker in Serbia and she was having similar issues with the roads. Matt Falconer passed me a couple of times as well.
Having had a bed at the hostel the previous night, I was ok for a night sleeping rough. I got tired around midnight so I found a picnic area just off the main road and slept on a table. I woke after about 20 mins and decided to carry on. I came across a 24 hour service station a little later which was good for a restock and a coffee. I stopped too long though.
In the middle of the night, the main road I had been following stopped and I needed to traverse to the next. I had planned my route to avoid highways but the sign over the road had a highway sign. There may have been a turn off before the highway proper but as my maps had not updated properly I decided to play it safe and route around. I carried on for 3km then turned off onto a back road to try to get back to my route. There was a steep hill between me and road I wanted and I started to climb.
Suddenly a dog ran into the road behind me, barking. I couldn’t see it in the dark and I carried on at an even pace, trying to be as uninteresting as possible. The dog was right behind me and I expected a bite on the ankle at any moment. Then the barks turned into snarls. I kept going and waited for the attack. Then the snarling stopped. I carried on up the hill, my heart hammering from more than exertion.
When I arrived down at the other side, I found a ravine between me and the road I wanted. I had no alternative but to retrace back over the steep hill to the road I had left. No sign of the dog as I sprinted past in the dark. After a hilly 20k I found my way back onto my route.
The road to the border with Croatia went on and on. It was exposed with a headwind, potholed and populated by trucks. The situation was made worse by the saddle sores that had begun to take hold. A friendly Serbian ex-pro cyclist came along side at one point and we had a brief chat, but I wasn’t at my best and going two abreast made it dangerous, so we soon parted company. Tanja passed me again on the way to the border. Mile after mile along long straight roads until finally I arrived at the Croatian border.
Croatia – Tues 30 July
Croatia was completely different. The border guards were friendly and waved me through without fuss. I immediately noticed the houses were larger and gardens well kept, the cars were newer and the trucks started giving me a bit more room. Just a bit.
I needed a hotel for the night and had a look for one further along the route. There was a hotel with late check in about 5 hours down the road in Donji Miholjac, so I booked a room on my app and carried on. I got there about 8 or 9pm and the shops were closed. I couldn’t get anything quick to eat at the hotel so I ate some bread I’d picked up earlier and went to bed. I had to talk the receptionist into letting me take my bike to the room, and she eventually gave in to my perseverance.
Four hours sleep and 90 mins faffing later and I was back on the road.
Slovenia – Wed 31 July
I was through Croatia and into Slovenia in no time. Into the Eurozone. I stopped at a service station and the first thing I noticed was that sandwiches were back on the menu. They had been lacking in the shops in Bulgaria, Serbia and Croatia. There had been a facebook post from Chris Jackson on how to contain saddle sores. The tip was to slather cream on a panty liner and stick it down your shorts. I spent 10 minutes trying to decide whether to buy standard or normal flow. I put them in my saddle bag for later.
Bikes were not allowed on many roads through Maribor and were very busy, but the cycle routes were good. In fact I had a lot of fun legging it around the paths like a crit racer. Tight corners, up and down curbs and dodging around lamp posts were no problem after Besna Kobila. Slovenia was also my first encounter with Alexander Le Roux from Brest. We had a brief introduction around Maribor as he passed me.
Slovenia was quite hilly but I was through in a few hours and into Austria in the early evening.
Austria – Wed 31 July
At first I found it quite difficult to find food as I didn’t pass anywhere open in the early evening. However I eventually came across a service station where I stocked up, including some corn dog type things made from batter wrapped around Austrian sausage. Brilliant. On I went into the night.
I booked a hotel on the fly called Velden24, which was on my route in Velden am Worther See. When I got there at around 10:30 pm, I found it had no reception, just a check-in terminal that gave you a room number and the door code. The room was on the third floor and there were no lifts so I had to carry my bike up the stairs. It was narrow, steep and winding. Climbing Besna Kobila seemed easy compared to this, but I managed to get to the room without falling down the stairs, which was good. The room was nice with a shower, so I washed my kit and got some sleep.
It was still dark when I got up, put on my wet kit and carried the bike down the stairs.
Italy – Thu 1 August
It was getting quite hilly through Austria, but I hit the mountains proper when I turned south into Italy through the Dolomites to get to the start of the Parcours for Control 3. There were three passes on the route to the Parcours, the highest being 2,190m.
I was making my way up a steep valley and came across a ‘road closed’ sign. While I debated ignoring it a couple on bikes came up the road behind me. Then a local in a car came up and told us that it was impassable and we had to follow the diversion. This led back down to the valley floor and then up the opposite side, along a roughly surfaced road, then down to the valley floor again and steeply up the other side. The detour did give me a good view of why the road was closed. It had disappeared and was somewhere in bits on the valley floor after a landslide.
After rejoining my route I stopped at the next village and asked how long the road had been gone. Since last October the barman told me. Must take a while to filter through to google maps I thought. A bit further up the valley, Alexi Le Roux passed me. Further still up the valley he passed me again after stopping for a 10 minute power nap.
Although the scenery was breathtaking, riding up and down the valleys all day was brutal and I was relieved to get to Corvara where the parcours for control 3 started.
Corvara was roughly half way to Brest and I let myself go a bit by sitting outside a cafe and having a coffee. After that, I had one of my supermarket moments where I wandered around unable to decide what to buy. Matt came through without stopping and Tanja rolled into into the supermarket, bought a packet of biscuits and set off again. I really need to get better at shopping!
Parcours 3
Tanja and I set off up the road to Passo Gardana together in the early evening sunshine. I was laboring a bit and Tanja soon disappeared up the road, leaving me to plod up the valley alone. The descent after the pass was brilliant on smooth roads and after another smallish lump I rode into Bolzano in the dark. I was tired and the parcours through Bolzano took us through some suburban streets and cycle paths. I stopped for a rest on a bench, but woke up after 10 mins and carried on. If I’d known what was to come I’d have stayed there for longer.
When I studied the route in preparation, I had noticed an anomaly in the ascent stats on the outskirts of Bolzano. It looked on the map like the road went up at an impossibly steep angle, so I passed it off as an error. I turned a corner, changed into my smallest gear and started up the hill, only to grind to a halt after 5 meters, unable to pedal because the road was impossibly steep. I managed to get off the bike, but could hardly stand on the hill let alone cycle up it. I began to shuffle up the gradient in my cycling shoes. Unfortunately that was the moment my body decided it was time for an urgent toilet break. I hooked the bike over the crash barrier and darted down a convenient path into the undergrowth, hanging onto a tree to stop myself falling down the mountainside. Not pleasant.
I returned to find my bike hadn’t disappeared down the hill and continued my slow shuffle walk up the road. After a while, I tried remounting, but still couldn’t get going, so I continued to walk until it levelled off to a really steep gradient.
A little further on I had to stop again to sleep. It was raining so I found a bench in the square of a small town that was partially under cover. Soon after I dozed off, a car with a man and a woman came through the square. They stopped to ask if I was ok. I said I was fine and they moved on, but I was awake again so I continued on up the hill.
I was nearing the top at around 1,300m when I spied a bus shelter through the dark and drizzle. As I got nearer I could see someone already camped in there. Tanja I presumed. A little further up there was another one. This time with a Matt shaped object inside.
By the time dawn broke I was in a bad way. I desperately needed sleep but there was nowhere good in the rain. In the end I just stopped, rolled out my space blanket on the grass verge and lay on it. I’m not sure how long I slept, maybe an hour, and I woke up cold and wet. Time to get going. The plateau carried on for ages rolling up and down and never flat. The early morning drizzle kept on as well. Eventually the downhill came, but it was raining heavily again.
I stopped at a supermarket for supplies and Matt was just leaving. I stayed there too long, but it was pouring down and I was cold and wet. Eventually I worked up the enthusiasm to get going. The only obstacle left on the parcours was Timmelsjoch Pass on the Austrian border, the highest point of the ride at about 2,450m.
Timmelsjoch – Fri 2 Aug
Timmelsjoch was relatively straightforward. Good roads, not too steep. I had been worried that the border crossing might be closed if I crossed at night, but it was the middle of the day, so happy days. It even stopped raining on the way up. There was a car museum at the top but I only stopped just long enough to put on my jacket for the descent.
Austria – Fri 2 Aug
The descent was long and the wind picked up and it started to rain heavily. I’d heard about storms coming in fast in the Alps. I needed food and came across a large supermarket in Solden, still at 1,500m altitude. I bought a hot meal at the cafe, and then went back for some pastries. It was still chucking it down and I couldn’t face carrying on so I looked for a hotel even though it was mid afternoon. I booked one in town and after a bit of searching, I arrived.
The clerk looked on the computer for my booking, but it hadn’t arrived from the app yet and she asked me to wait for a while for it to come through. I explained that I was in a race and we agreed that I would pay for the room based on the price I showed her on the app. If there were any issues we’d sort them out later. I also explained that I would be setting off again before midnight. I’m not sure she really believed me but she showed me the back door into the garage and asked me to go out that way instead of through the front. I got a few hours sleep and left before midnight.
Control 3 – Sat 3 Aug
I arrived at St Anton am Arlberg in the middle of the night, but as I’d already slept there was no reason for me to linger. A quick chat with the fantastic volunteers and I was away. Straight up another hill if I recall correctly.
Control 3 to Control 4
Switzerland – Sat 3 Aug
I was straight through Lichtenstein in the blink of an eye and into Switzerland. Everything seemed clean and tidy and the first service station I arrived at had everything I wanted. Switzerland was great.
However, this is where my route started to deteriorate due to poor planning. I noticed that I was travelling along a lot of cycle paths. Some of them were good, wide purpose built cycle ways, but the surface was often unpaved, which made progress slower. Others were dirt tracks that I hadn’t spotted when I designed the route.
I’d been worried about travelling along banned roads and banned tunnels in this area of Switzerland. The alternative route through Italy had been difficult to join up with the start of the next parcour and I’d not had enough time to plan a northern route that avoided the major cities of Geneva and Zurich. So I’d routed straight down the middle over the Oberalppass at 2,000m and Furka Pass at 2,400m.
I was running out of energy in the early afternoon on 3 August and hadn’t come across any shops for a while. Just before I started up Oberalppass I found a shop and bought a full sugar coke. It did the trick and I steamed up the climb full gas. I was so pleased when I got to the top that I asked a couple to take my picture, lifting the fully laden bike over my head.
After Oberalppass came Furka. Straight forward enough and awesome views in the evening sunshine. I got over the top while it was still light, but I’d lost a lot of time to the other riders who had gone further north or south through Italy on flatter roads. It was dusk when I got to Oberwald. In front of me was a tunnel. I couldn’t remember if it was banned or just advisory not too take it. There were hardly any cars around so it felt safe to go through, but if it was banned I’d risk disqualification from the General Classification. I started along what looked like a cycle path around the tunnel, but I lost the way in the twilight. I was tired and cold and still at 1,900m altitude. I needed to think. I looked around and saw a train station, so I went there. It had a public toilet so I decided to shelter in there to get out of the wind.
As I pushed the door open, a heater above me came on automatically and the light came on to reveal the most pristine loo I’ve ever visited. It was a good opportunity to change the batteries in my satellite tracker in the dry. Once my tracker was safely back together I felt absolutely exhausted. I lay down on the marble floor and fell asleep. When I awoke, I felt refreshed. I checked the manual and found that the tunnel was not banned, so through it I went. Then I carried on down the long valley into the night.
France – Sun 4 Aug
My brother, Simon, and Rachel were on holiday in the French Alps, and came over the border to Martigny in the morning to wave me on. It was a real boost to see them and I stopped for a few moments for a chat while I took off my arm and leg warmers. Then I was off up another big climb to 1,500m, down again, then up again to nearly the same altitude. It was brutal.
I crossed the border into France at midday on Sunday. I hadn’t passed any shops in the morning so bought some water and chocolate from a souvenir store by the border. I was in the rolling foothills of Mont Blanc so the going was tough and it was really warm. I had to fill up with water again at a bar, but the grumpy lady said that the tap water was for customers only. Fine I said, I’ll pay for it. Welcome to France!
There were no shops open on a Sunday afternoon and I’d run out of food. Eventually I came across a posh delicatessen and bought a brioche loaf and a miniature eclair to keep me going. The hills were relentless and big, the sun was beating down, I was really tired and going very, very slow. To add to my misery there were road closures that I had to work around. Everything started to ache and I had no energy. I was relieved when I got to Megeve and found a supermarket open. I went overboard and bought a 4 pack of haagen-dazs and ate it all along with a litre of orange juice. After that I felt really sick and had to stop again just after Flumet at a hotel bar for a coke. It was about 7pm and I’d had enough. They had a room so I took it.
The best day ever! – Mon 5 Aug
I set off on Monday at midnight after a refreshing 3 or 4 hrs sleep. The day started badly with another road closure. I was still stiff from the previous day and fell off trying to turn around at slow speed on the slope. The diversion took me straight back up the other side of the valley for miles before I rejoined my route at Ugine. However, from there on it was a straightforward and relatively flat 90k to the foot of Telegraphe.
I arrived there just before dawn, so I sorted my clothing in a bus shelter at the bottom and set off up the climb. Dawn broke on the way up, and the views were amazing. When I reached the coll I found I had left my sunglasses in the bus shelter at the bottom. I didn’t go back down for them. A short descent took me into Valloire just as the patisserie was opening. I had the most amazing pain au raisin and shoved another couple of pastries in my back pocket for later. Then back on the bike to start the parcours for Control 4, starting with Galibier.
I’d gone a little way, when I saw a cyclist coming towards me. As we passed I recognised him as the guy that had bivvied half way up Besna Kobila, Ehrl Daniel. He had gone over Galibier to get to the start of the Parcours and then turned around and went straight back up. I was sleepy so I took 10 mins on a wall to sleep off the pain au raisin. About half way up I stopped again to put on some sun cream and Ehrl stopped on his way past. We exchanged a few words of encouragement. I always get a boost from seeing fellow riders out there in the wilderness, even it’s just a few moments.
It was a glorious day when I reached the top of Galibier and the views were spectacular. Then an amazing 30km descent through the most awesome scenery imaginable, to the foot of Alpe D’Huez. The Parcours started on the road and then branched off onto a gravel track. The surface was good, but it was steep and I had to remain seated to get traction. My legs burned with the effort. When it got too much I got off and walked for bit. I continued this walk, ride, walk, ride all the way up. Another TCR rider was doing the same so I didn’t feel too bad about it. Near the top I filled my water bottle from a mountain stream. The water was clear and cold and was amazingly refreshing in the heat of the afternoon.
After arriving at the top, I descended the famous 21 hairpins in the afternoon sunshine. It was an exhilarating experience and I pushed myself and the bike to the limits, braking as late and as hard as I dared and flying down the straights. Wow, it was so cool.
I stopped at the Control in Le Bourg D’Oisans just long enough to restock and buy some new sunglasses. Then it was off up the other side of the valley to another coll via a deserted hanging road with lots of tunnels leading to a track at the top. Again the views across the valley were awesome in the evening sunshine. I regained the road, finished the Parcours and then rode on into and through Grenoble as the light faded. On the far side I came across a pizza truck that had run out of pizzas but sold a hot potato gratin dish. While it was being prepared, Matt rolled up and we shared a few minutes eating our supper together. Then we were off on our separate ways through the night.
As midnight passed, I reflect on my day. It had been an amazing 24 hours cycling through the mountains, with scenery I could have never imagined, fantastic climbs and thrilling descents, clear blue skies and hardly any wind. I’d had a massive grin on my face all the way and could never have dreamt that I would be having such an awesome time at this point in the ride. It was quite simply the best day’s cycling ever.
Control 4 to Finish – Tues 6 Aug
On through the night I went, but I had issues with the route and found myself on undulating terrain interspersed with cycle paths that occasionally deteriorated into stony tracks. I had a short sleep around the back of a petrol station at La Frette.
Lyon was ok in the early morning and I found a handy tunnel under the river that cut out some of the traffic. The hill out of Lyon was sharp and hard work and I managed to lose my music player and earphones somewhere around there.
The wind picked up and I was battling against it in open terrain through the day. I found myself in a massive supermarket at tea time wandering around trying decide what to buy. I must have wasted an hour there. I managed to buy anti-ageing cream instead of sun cream, and laughed the next morning when I realised my mistake. I’m not sure it did much for my complexion.
I lost my phone in a field on Tuesday night, somewhere near Bourges I think, along with my second pair of sunglasses. I put them down to sleep for a few minutes and didn’t pick them up again in the dark when I left. I didn’t realise until a few hours later and it was too late to go back. I couldn’t be precise about where I’d slept anyway. The phone had all my photos from the trip and I hadn’t backed them up. When I think back on all of the awesome, unique moments I had captured, it was a massive loss. I was devastated.
It started to rain heavily in the morning and I was cold. I needed to put my base layer on but had to take off my soaked shirt and and jacket to do it. By the time I put the base layer on, it was soaked too, and I put my soaked shirt back on, my jacket and high vis gillet. I was shivering and miserable. I stopped in a small town and bought a cheap pay as you go phone at a corner shop, but it had no sim card. A kind lady in the chemist let me borrow her phone to call Jenny so that I could let her know not to worry, but I’d lost my phone and wouldn’t be contactable from now on.
I stopped again at the next town, Selles Sur Cher, to look for a sim card. It took me a while, up and down the high street.
I sat down in a cafe and worked my way through an entire chacouterie board of meat and cheese while I tried to make the phone and sim work together, but I couldn’t get it to top up and I gave up after a couple of hours. I set off again.
On and on through France. Past Tours and Angers, getting closer and closer to Brest. I was so slow. Grabbing a few minutes sleep here and there, with no way to find hotels quickly without a phone.
Final Parcours – Thu 8 Aug
Eventually I arrived at the finish parcours. Up and over a big hill to Brest.
It was dusk when I got to Poullaouen, about 70km from the finish. I was really tired and spotted a hotel that looked open so I popped in for a quick coffee. I was the only one there and the proprietors, a man and a woman, engaged me in conversation. I told them I was in a race and on my way to Brest and all I needed was a quick espresso. While it was being prepared the man showed me the weather forecast for the night. It showed heavy rain starting soon. I explained that I was near the end of my journey, loaded up the TCR map on their computer screen, and pointed to my cap number. There were other riders close by and there was no way I was going to wait it out. He just kept pointing to the computer screen and saying it was going to rain, really hard, while shaking his head and looking at me as if I was mad.
After finishing my coffee I thought about my predicament for a moment. I was extremely tired. I’d been cycling through France for 3 days and 3 nights without a proper sleep, it was dark, and we were due some extreme weather. Wouldn’t it be better to grab an hour’s sleep in a chair here first? But I was only 70k from the finish!!!! And it wasn’t raining yet!!!!
“Fuck it”, I thought, and set off up the hill.
Sizun
No sooner had I set off than it began to rain. And boy did it rain. The heavens opened and it poured down. And it kept pouring harder and longer than I can ever remember.
The road turned into a river and I was soaked to the skin and crawling up the hill. Even at night the road was busy with trucks that kept spraying me as they passed.
Then, despite the rain, I started to fall asleep while riding. I nodded off a couple of times and jerked awake before falling off. I dismounted and walked for a few minutes to wake me up, then rode until I nodded off, then walked, then rode, all the way up the hill. I looked for somewhere to sleep, but everywhere was flooded. I could carry on or I could lie down in a puddle. So I carried on. Walk, ride, walk, ride all the way up and over the top.
It was a massive relief to get to Sizun, half way down the other side. Still pouring with rain I just couldn’t go on. I was about to lie down on the pavement when I spotted a bank with it’s foyer light on. I pushed the door and opened! Dry and warm inside, I lay down on the floor. Just 10 mins sleep and then I could complete the 30k to the finish.
I had no phone and my watch had broken earlier in the journey, so I had nothing on which to set an alarm. Several hours later I was awoken by a guy trying to get past my feet to the ATM. It was light and still raining.
I climbed on to my bike and rode the remaining 30k to the finish.
Final Thoughts
TCR was the most awesome, full-on experience ever. I pushed myself to the limit and beyond for 13 days straight with never a dull moment. There was spectacular scenery around every corner and exhilarating downhills that took my breath away.
The volunteers at the controls were all fantastic and the cheering on I received from friends and family was a real boost. Whenever I got lonely, or apprehensive, travelling through places I knew very little about, I looked up at the sky and took heart from knowing someone was watching my dot.
TCR is an amazing race, and I felt privileged to be part of it.
Stats
- 4,109 km
- 13 days, 3 hours, 37 mins
- 46,878 metres of ascent
- 313km + 3,572m ascent per day
- 206 hours moving (16 hrs per day)
- 108 hours not moving (8 hrs per day)
- 20 kph moving average
- 27th place
Strava Tracks
Leg 1 – Start to Control 1
Leg 2 – Bulgaria
Leg 3 – Serbia
Leg 4 – Besna Kobila summit to Control 2
Leg 5 – Serbia
Leg 6 – Croatia
Leg 7 – Croatia, Slovenia, Austria
Leg 8 – Austria, Italy to Parcours 3
Leg 9 – Timmelsjoch
Leg 10 – Austria, Control 3, Lichtenstein, Switzerland, Furka to Oberwald
Leg 11 – Switzerland into France past Mont Blanc
Leg 12 – France to Valloire
Leg 13 – Galibier & Alpe D’Huez to Control 4
Leg 14 – France, Grenoble
Leg 15 – Central France to Vierzon
Leg 16 – Central France to Angers
Leg 17 – France, Angers to final parcours
Leg 18 – Brest parcours
Aidan's Cycling Adventures 