Day -1 Friday 1st JulyThe lamb was sizzling on the BBQ at Flowers Hill, Pangbourne as Paul O, Chris, Scott Z, Scott B and Paul B gathered on the Friday evening. After prizing Paul O and his bike box out of his 2-seater Smart car, one or two beers were sunk, but carb and protein inputs were quietly controlled! The mood was jovial, with all the talk on the week ahead. England beat Argentina 10-9 on the table football, table tennis skills were on display, but on this occasion, the only sport that really mattered was cycling. After 8 months and 2,400 miles of training, there was nothing more I could do to prepare. An early night.

Day 0 Saturday 2nd July The Prologue

A beautifully sunny morning and our garage was a hive of activity as bikes were assembled and tuned. Scott Z’s minor mechanical crisis was averted by cannibalizing Stuart’s old Specialized bike. At 11.00am the prologue began, with Paul O, Chris and Scott x 2 setting off to Portsmouth, adding 65 miles to their bragging rights. I would have joined them (ho ho!) but instead, I attended Commemoration Day at Bradfield College, proudly watching Stuart appointed Hillside’s new Head of House and Michael gathering his academic prize. Alice and I returned promptly from school to load 8 x bike boxes, 8 x luggage plus 4 assembled bikes, mostly into our hired trailer, but by this time we were joined by David Butler and his dad, Robin who helped share the load. After a last minute fitness check on Stuart’s back (and packing an extra sack of pain killers!) Alice and Robin drove us to Portsmouth. As the 19 members of the T500 gathered, Mike ‘Chappers’ Chapplow negotiated patiently with Brittany Ferries who couldn’t decide whether we were foot passengers or cyclists (apparently you can’t be both!). Problem solved when half of us took the entire luggage, whilst the rest wheeled two bikes each. The cabins were comfortable – The Rod Stewart impersonation act was dreadful. Easy decision – another early night. Nervous sleep.

Day 1 - Sunday 3rd July
St Malo to Saint Quentin-les-Anges 90.2 miles 4,307 ft 14.2mph

At 8.00am, we were met on the French side by our Saddle Skedaddle crew: David, Imogen & Vanessa. Welcoming and professional, they quickly got us rolling through the town. David drew the short straw and was in the support van, fully stocked with bananas, energy bars and electrolyte. With a peloton of 21 dressed smartly in our custom made gold T500 jerseys, there were some awkward moments and I took the honour of the first ‘spill’. Clip in pedals and traffic lights – not a great combination!! As soon as we were out into the countryside, the pace quickened and the group got a little strung out. After a coffee stop in Combourg, the terrain was a little more undulating than I’d expected but I did exactly what I promised I wouldn’t do, that was to try to keep up with the front runners. I wasn’t the only one – Stuart’s legs cramped up (he’d done slightly less than 2,400 miles in training, imagining cricket used similar muscles!), but Imogen provided some tender loving care and rode with him into lunch at Vitre. A litre or two of coke and he was fit to ride again. The pace in the afternoon was more measured allowing us to enjoy the views of the apple orchards and fields of sunflowers. After a tough and long first day, we arrived at our little hotel to the news that a number of the twin rooms were in fact double beds! Tensions were eased by a complimentary beer, whilst the Skedaddle crew smoothed things over and managed to negotiate some extra rooms, whilst gallantly offering to sleep with the bikes. After a nice meal washed down with local cider, sleep was very welcome ….. until the combine harvesters kicked in at sunrise!!

Day 2 Monday 4th July
Saint Quentin-les-Anges to Cholet 62.0 miles 3,090 ft 15.1mph

Kikki led the morning stretches to much hilarity and sarcastic wit, but quietly, we knew that if we were to survive the week intact, we would need all the medical support we could get. Skedaddle-David gently suggested we might want to get ourselves organised a bit, so we shuffled into the fast, medium and slow groups. Stuart and I took the middle option which still felt like a decent pace, typically cruising at 15-16 mph. We merged with the faster group as we all cycled in together for our lunch stop at Le Pin-en-Mauges. Just 17 miles were left to cover in the hot afternoon with the temperature of 32degC. We could not have received a warmer welcome at our hotel, which on the previous night, had been occupied by the Tour de France’s Radio Shack team. We had a relaxing afternoon, watching the sprint finish on TV. Before dinner, I sought help from Kikki, our sports therapist, to massage my calves – preventative at this stage, as I had not recurrence of my foot injury that had plagued the final weeks of my training.

Day 3 Tuesday 5th July
Cholet to Saint Hilaire-de-Villefranche 100.2 miles 5,261 ft 13.1 mph

We knew this was a big day – our first “ton”, so the medium group, this time including Kikki, Aussie Paul and Jon set off in a more organised fashion, trying out our peloton skills - switching the lead and taking turns to draft in the slipstream. We were slaves to the GPS, so rather than following the verbal instructions to keep to the main road, we found ourselves cutting through a school and having to climb over some locked gates! A few miles later and we’d strayed off the route again, but seeing it reappear on my Garmin screen, I confidently sped off – but no one followed! My phone rang and it was pointed out I was headed north, back the way we’d come. Unnecessary mileage weighed heavily on my mind, knowing 100 was enough of a target (later I discovered other groups had clocked up 110!). We regrouped for lunch after 64 miles – as always, Skedaddle had laid on a wonderful spread of salads, meats and cheese, with my favourite “tarte tatin“ to refuel. As the mileage clicked by in the afternoon, confidence levels grew and unbelievably, Stuart and Aussie Paul were racing each other up hills – what a pair of kids! Kikki and Govind were nursing a sore knee and tired legs, but we stuck together, knowing that Chateau de Laleard lay ahead. As we approached, it appeared like an oasis. Not only did it have a swimming pool and tennis court (of course we were far too tired to enjoy any of the facilities!) but it appeared to have a kebab van in garden! Was I hallucinating? I took part in Kikki’s warm-down stretches but as someone had thrust a beer in my hand, I suspect I didn’t get the full benefit! David Bennett and Paul D-G with their steady pace and shorter breaks rolled in. Rumours circulated that they had a time machine. I washed my kit and hung it out to dry, leaving my window open during dinner. When I turned in, I discovered I was sharing a room with a friendly mosquito. Each time I was about to nod off it buzzed – so I’m not convinced I slept much!

Day 4 Wednesday 6th July
Saint Hilaire-de-Villefranche to Bordeaux 94.4 miles 3,546 ft 12.9 mph

With the medium and fast groups held back, to give the slow group a head start, the heavens opened. There was a massive downpour as we helped Skedaddle-David pack the van. No need for sun cream today then!? After a short delay we set off together but the weather soon brightened up and the tarmac dried out, allowing the pace to resume. Riding threw the village of Pons, there was the sound of a rifle shot from the back of the group. Stuart’s tyre had burst, with a spectacular 2cm split sending a 100 psi blast of air up his backside! Although we had loads of spare tubes, we needed a new tyre and whilst we awaited Skedaddle David’s van, I ran a mercy mission to the local patisserie to keep everyone happy. Just 25 miles later and we had a minor prang on a steep hill out of Montendre. Charles clipped a kerb and toppled onto Stuart, leaving both a tangled mess of bikes and bodies on the road. Thankfully, this wasn’t at full Tour de France speed, so the injury count was limited to a bruised ankle, a grazed elbow and buckled wheel. To our amusement, an ambulance had been following immediately behind, allowing more dramatic photographs of the paramedic crew tending the incident than was really merited. Skedaddle-David came to the rescue, tightening a few spokes and straightening up the wheel. Stuart and Charles proved they are made of strong stuff and climbed back into the saddle and pressed on to lunch, where a pizza and salad spread was laid on in the woods. The last 30 miles into Bordeaux was delightful. I promised to return to the vineyards when I had more time (Côtes de Bourg on the banks of the Dordogne stuck in the mind!). We gathered on the edge of Bordeaux, riding in together through port district and over bridge right up to the door of the Hotel Continental, in the heart of the city. Whilst bags were unloaded, we found a bar serving chips. My body told me I needed multiple bowls, caked in salt and ketchup, so on this occasion, I listened to my body!! By this stage, I also realised it had been sunny all day and regretted the lack of suntan lotion. I slept like a log (in between 1am when the plaza revellers went to bed and 5am when the dustbins were emptied).

Day 5 Thursday 7th July
Bordeaux to Castets 101.4 miles 1,431 ft 14.5 mph

After a slow group ride out of Bordeaux city centre, we divided into our groups, knowing we had another long day in the saddle. That said, the roads were flat, so as the fast group flew past, Jon and I took my opportunity to tag along. It was a fantastic experience and in the 55 mins before coffee in Salles, I experienced cycling as a team sport. Sucked along by this slick machine of a peloton, I could not believe I was part of this train, averaging a shade over 20 mph (something I’d only read about in cycling books, called “evens”). It felt really efficient, but I was unsure whether I could have sustained this all day, so I re-joined my rightful group and we tried to replicate the techniques with some success – hence what I consider to be an impressive 14.5 mph average pace achieved over the 100 miles. We stopped for lunch at the side of the lake near Mimizan. However, there was a temporary loss of sense of humour when this added 5 miles to the route - on this occasion, we would have been happy to eat by the side of the road. However, for the chicken salad and with Kikki on hand to massage a few muscles back to life, it was all worthwhile. With the bulk of the ride behind us, the final run into Castets was a blast. Skedaddle-David rode with us through a wooded section; once again, I comfortably maintained a 20 mph cruising speed. I like flat roads! The oddly branded Hippopotamus restaurant had a celebratory mood that night. David Bennett (by now referred to simply as the Time Lord) was a little late for dinner, rumoured to be polishing his tardis. With nearly 450 miles under our belts, we knew we were going to make it, so a small locally sourced cognac seemed appropriate!

Day 6 Friday 8th July
Castets to Biarritz 46.9 miles 1,221 ft 14.5 mph

A short ride to knock off before lunch! The group was less disciplined. Some people stopped for an ice cream at the beach resort of Capbreton, whilst we steamed through. A nasty little 6% climb into the town of Tarnos served as a warning of things to come, but couldn’t spoil the mood. Govind, Jon, Stuart, James and I waited for rest to catch up at the muster point 8 miles north of Biarritz, then we all cycled in together. Simone was at our hotel, waiting to greet us. An original member of the T500 group, she had broken her collar bone in her last training ride the week before departure, so it was great to that she was fit enough to fly out. A few quick photographs and Twitter messages were sent back home, then it was straight to the pool for to relax and sleep. However, we couldn’t unwind fully as our minds turned to the Col du Tourmalet. The patio area became an impromptu bike workshop as the racers swapped or removed components to save weight or change gear ratios. Odds were discussed and the smart money seemed to be on either Chris or David. Would experience overcome youth? Reminiscent of Tim Moore’s book, French Revolutions (compulsory pre-tour reading) 4-5 of the group shaved their legs – the sign, allegedly, of a true cyclist. Although billed as a free evening, when folks could do their own thing, many again chose to eat together – a sign the group enjoyed each other’s company. After dinner in a Basque restaurant, 6 of us including Skedaddle-David and Imogen strolled down to the beach, which became a gentle paddle – then for Scott B and me a full blown swim in the surf! An absolutely fantastic feeling. I temporarily forgot about the Col du Tourmalet.

Day 7 Saturday 9th July
Luz-Saint-Sauveur to Col du Tourmalet 11.8 miles 4,552 ft 4.5 mph

Thanks to James, we were all presented with customised “King of the Mountain” jerseys for the big day. So in our striking red polka dot jerseys, we boarded the bus to the Col du Tourmalet. The reputation of this “most feared mountain” was having its effect and nerves were visible. Some shut themselves away listening to iPods, others released energy with banter. I was simply scared - I never expected to take part in this “optional” section, yet somehow I’d been swept along. Kikki led the stretching session in the car park as we awaited delivery of our bikes, much to the amusement of passing French cyclists – all of whom looked frighteningly professional. What on earth was I doing here!?. We were then given a choice of an 18 Km or 3 Km warm up, along the gorge (“just” a 3-4% gradient). I’ll leave you to guess which one I chose! “Just take the left turn at the village of Luz-Saint-Sauveur and keep going up” was our instructions. Gulp!! Nothing had prepared me for this and as soon as I started, my training felt woefully inadequate. I am not built as a climber – just another 20 Kg to loose then. Any plans to take it steady and keep my heart rate in a “safe zone” went out of the window, as my pulse rose from 140, through 150 to 160 bpm, despite crawling along at 4-5 mph in my lowest possible gear (my Scott Addict R3 Triple has 30 gears – I needed more!). It was constantly, relentlessly, unendingly uphill; it never flattened out so there was no chance to recover. I’m not ashamed to admit that I stopped on occasions. I had to. With 1 Km to go (apologies for the switch in currency, but there are signs every 1 Km) the route had a sting in its tail as the average 7% gradient appeared to notch up still further. With 800m to go I think I had a minor cyclists “bonk” – my body was devoid of all sources of energy and started shutting down. I felt really cold and doubt crept in that I would actually make it. With 100m to go, I could see David Bennett urging me over the line, but I couldn’t get there. But after another lengthy pause, I final called on all my reserves to lurch over the line. “I feel sick” was all I could say as I unclipped, abandoned my bike and sought refuge in the hut at the top. Thankfully, they had seen people like me before, so a mug of chocolat chaud à l’orange and a bowl of pasta bolognaise restored some balance. I was told afterwards that my time was 2 hours 37 minutes. That didn’t matter to me. What mattered was that I was still alive and yes, I’d done it!! The rest of the team were congratulating David Butler (a remarkable 1 hour 35 minutes), Chris & Scott B for their podium finishes. Meanwhile, I was quietly proud of Stuart finishing ahead of me. Of the T500, 1 did not start, 1 did not finish but 17 of the 19 made it. They had waited for me but were now ready to move on, so we quickly put on extra layers of clothing ready for descent. Col du Tourmalet to Sainte Marie-de-Campan 10.4 miles (3,995) ft 22.7 mph

Whilst Chris and David raced each other on the decent, reaching crazy speeds of 50 mph (on a bike in lycra!) I was far more cautious; gripping the brakes and doing all I could to limit my top speed to 35.3 mph. I can’t say I enjoyed it; rather I survived it, in a time of 27 minutes. The finishing line was L’Ardoisiere – a gite in the town centre owned by a bike enthusiast. It has great displays on the wall of all the Tour de France history. I half joked about selling all my bike gear on Ebay. Last man down was our Kiwi, Brian, who stole the show by running in shouting “where is the dunny!?” I slept in the minibus back to Pau.

We had a fun night out to celebrate in Pau involving the best entrecote steak in the world. We got the speeches out of the way early, thankfully before the mojito cocktails started flowing. I retired to bed at 1.45am, whilst Aussie Paul, Kiwi Brian and Stuart headed off to enjoy Pau’s nightlife.

Thanks to all who sponsored and supported us, I helped raise £2,500 for the Prince’s Trust and as a team we raised over £35,000 for a variety of charities selected by each rider.

An amazing trip and a great bunch of people to ride with.

Memories that will last a long, long time.

Russ Cummings - July 2011