- Distance: 82,33 km
- Vertical Ascent: 2.611 m
- No. of Named Cols: <TBC>
- Start Date & Time: 2019-10-15, 11:56
- Start Location: Bagnères-de-Luchon
- End Date & Time: 2019-10-15, 21:02
- End Location: Campan
- Time Moving: 6:14:13
- Moving Average: 13,2 km/h
- No. of Stops >3 Minutes: 13
Data: strava.com/activities/2791688649
All cycling clothes were dry and all bags packed prior to breakfast … I wanted to leave the hotel quickly, not only to avoid losing time I needed for the road, yet also because of feeling uncomfortable with the lack of hygiene. But, as I had paid for food, I’d first fuel up as as best as possible.
To my disappointment, the buffet only offered very limited variety, and healthy choices, let alone quality whole foods were completely absent. So, I stuffed myself with what was available. Would have to find something of more nutritional value while on the road. Or accept that long- and ultra-distance cycling has a propensity towards living off terrible nutrition when nothing else is within reach.
Whatever, when I got up from the breakfast table I was high on caffeine — must have had five or six double espresso. Definitely helped with losing some additional weight prior to climbing all those cols. The bathroom was the last facility I used prior to leaving that establishment for good ?
The local bike shop closest to my hotel was Mountain Bike Luchon. They didn’t sell Cannondales. But when I pushed my CAAD12 right onto the shop floor asking for help with the front brake, the founder and chief mechanic Jean-Louis went to work immediately. I couldn’t assist or observe the repair — only shop personnel had access to the workshop. And that’s fine by me … although I really enjoy seeing bike mechanics at work.
Finding and fixing the problem didn’t take long for Jean-Louis: My diagnosis was correct: The nut keeping the center bolt tight and the brake calipers aligned (and thus also ensuring that there’s no lateral rotation of the brake once properly adjusted) was worn out. Now it’s been replaced by a far more solid solution, and I am happy to continue my ride!
Only minutes after leaving Luchon on the D618 another cyclist came up from behind and instead of passing, matched my pace, staying to my left and asking where I was headed. We chatted while climbing up to Garin, about halfway to the Col de Peyresourde. Turns out he was friends with Jean-Louis who had notified him that the Lanterne Rouge of the TPR was about to climb one of their home cols.
We parted ways in Garin where my temporary companion continued on the D618, and I refilled my bottles from another public fountain with its richly sculpted bronze spout. What about doing a tour of the Pyrenees just for the sake of documenting this vital, often beautiful and picturesque infrastructure?
Following the official TPR itinerary, I now took a minor detour on the D76. I found this portion of the route particularly pretty. It’s a rather narrow road and winds along the northern flank of the valley I had just climbed. The view back was breathtaking.
From Luchon to Garin weather had been bright with mild to warm temperatures and I felt great in my light summer kit. But now, when I crested the Col de Peyresourde, a cold wind blew over the summit right into my face.
I found shelter behind the Crêperie du Col de Peyresourde, a popular rest stop where until just weeks before tourists, locals and passing cyclists would stop for a typical snack or to buy regionally produced honey. My bike leaned against the side of the wooden house, and after consulting the weather report I actually took off even the aerobar-mounted compression bags and reshuffled my clothing to have actual winter layers easily accessible: the forecast indicated a further drop in temperatures for the upcoming cols — especially around the Tourmalet, which was then still my goal for the day.
The official Raid Pyrénéen route for the TPR now took another detour left off the D618 towards Peyresourde-Balestas on the D117. It was a strange experience seeing essentially a ghost town of a winter sports resort at this time of the year, where snow was possibly only days or a few weeks away.
What makes Peyresourde-Balestas special is the adjacent altiport. With a rather short strip at an average gradient of 15% this is not an airport to land a 747, but it prominently featured in the opening sequence of the 1997 James Bond movie “Tomorrow Never Dies”. For the twenty year anniversary of the 1997 production, the altiport was appropriately renamed to “Altiport 007” and also received a general overhaul including an enlarged runway before hosting the 12th stage of the 2017 Tour de France.
This episode and the subsequent descent were immediately followed by the climb from the lake of Génos-Loudenvielle up in the direction of the ski resort of Val Louron and the Col d’Azet.
Another beautiful route, lined by swathes of fern in shades of golden brown, dotted by still predominantly green bushes and trees. I believe that during the entirety of the climb I must have had an obscenely broad smile on my face because of the surrounding landscape. Taking in all the panoramic views I almost missed the sharp right turn up to Col d’Azet and continued for about 200 meters towards Val Louron.
But I also noticed shadows again growing longer and temperature decreasing further.
For tonight I then still had the idea of traversing the Col du Tourmalet in the dark, reaching Argelès-Gazost and continuing a few kilometres to Saint Savin. I wanted to stay at the Pyrénées Cycling Lodge, and when I reached the Col de Val Louron-Azet had a first phone call with Niamh who agreed to arrange for a late arrival.
The route via Azet and then on through Estensan and Sailhan to Vielle-Aure is a wonderfully varied, sinuous descent with multiple hairpins, through a rugged, mostly open landscape and typical rural villages of the region.
To make up for at least an hour already lost changing back and forth between cooler and warmer cycling kit, I snacked from my supply of energy bars and gels while riding, instead of stopping anywhere for lunch.
Eventually, I reached Vielle-Aure, and at the sight of the “Tabac” sign of Café Duban I felt it was time for a caffeine injection. The shop was empty despite a friend of the owner and the owner himself, so my coffee was quickly prepared and delivered. It was delicious. I believe I am addicted to double espressos by now, so my judgement regarding culinary quality of individual doses should be taken with care.
Outside Café Duban the route took a right turn and I followed it, until just before leaving Guchen I found a picnic area at the banks of the Lavedan, a small stream. The spot was bathed in warm afternoon sun when I arrived and, again, changed clothes before the next climb. And only when I was repacking my bags to get back on my bike, the sun disappeared behind a mountainside. Instantly, the temperature dropped heavily. If this was any indication of the night to come, I really didn’t look forward to it.
Only around the next bend, behind the Centrale Hydroélectrique de Guchen the route took a sharp turn, bridged the Lavedan and continued into the 10 km climb up to the Hourquette d’Ancizan. Most of the route up to the summit was on the north and east side of the mountains and thus not warmed by sunlight.
Just when I reached the summit, the sun set and the temperature dropped further. Assessing my progress and reports of fresh snow on the Tourmalet the night before, I decided to reach out to Niamh again and cancel my reservation for a late night arrival at the Pyrenees Cycling Lodge near Argelès-Gazost. I had made good progress today, physically was in very good shape and didn’t want to risk neither a crash on a long and fast, iced-over descent nor catch a cold or worse shortly before the finish.
While putting on additional layers and taking in the view, I saw a family arrive by car to enjoy the spectacular sunset. They had heavy winter clothes and didn’t spend more than a few minutes out on the mirador, then left around the same time as me, but well protected from the elements in a warm ?
I wore every piece of warm kit except for a quilted winter jacket and merino underwear. To create an additional barrier against wind chill I had also put on full GoreTex rainwear, from head to toe. But after descending for about 3 kms on the D113 and then briefly riding up to Sarrat de l’Artigou, the next roughly 5 kms downhill to Lac de Payolle were so cold I doubted the temperature reading of around 3° Celsius on my Element. It felt as if below freezing.
The lake reflected many lights of what probably were local and tourist homes, possibly even bars and hotels. For a moment I considered looking for a hostel in the immediate neighbourhood. But as much as I appreciate spontaneity and rapid decision-making, a general rule I also adhere to is to stick to well thought-out plans and not to waver at the first sign of adversity.
The route now merged into the well-paved and wider D918 and I shivered my way about 10 remaining kilometres down to the commune of Campan where I expected to find a room or bed for the night. And hopefully a warm one.
First I stopped in the centre of Sainte-Marie de Campan and then half pushed , half rode my bike from one establishment to another. But everything was dark and obviously shut-down for vacation.
Back on the D918 and continuing down towards Campan proper, I already imagined myself bivvying in a bus shelter I had passed earlier on my way into the valley. But then I saw the brightly illuminated signs of the Hôtel Le Chalet on the left side.
Immediately, I rolled onto the front porch of the hotel and restaurant building, leaned my bike against the wall and attempted to open the glass door. It was locked. But inside people were in a conversation, and I must have looked so frozen and hungry that a man then walked over and opened the door to greet me. I didn’t hesitate for a second and burst out asking for a room.
Long story short — just as I arrived, the manager had been debriefing the remaining staff and now sent them home for the interseasonal vacation period. And the restaurant was also closed. But I would get a room. And breakfast in the morning. And if I didn’t mind, he’d also prepare something simple to resemble dinner, but it would have to be mostly cold, like charcuterie, cheese and bread.
To store my bike I was given the keys to the fitness area in the neighbouring building. My room was perfectly clean, looked like only very recently built or remodeled. It was number 42. And yes, I did bring my (pack-) towel ?
Being so kindly received when the hotel was officially on vacation, was the perfect compensation for the night in Luchon. And the improvised but more than complete dinner I was then served, as the only guest, was much more than I could have asked for. Perfect soul food.
All was good again.
