Not a bad start

It’s been a pretty good start, both living wise and cycling wise, more about the cycling wise later but now to tell you about our accommodation. They say it’s always about location, location, location, well this year we have THE location, for what we need anyway. About 60 metres away from 4 whole cafes, 2 mini supermarkets, 200 metres from the clubs meeting point for rides and races and plenty of other stuff we haven’t even found yet. So we’re already doing better than last year, where we were situated 3km from the local supermarket and about 5km from anything else. The accommodation itself is pretty cool, the kitchen was a bit sparse at first but slowly we’ve bought little bits and have been given others. The washing machine arrived today, along with our swanky new microwave. This adds to our fridge/freezer, gas cooker, mini-oven and sink, we’re practically rolling in commodities. The rooms are quite nice too, the apartment has only recently been finished and we are the first people living in it so everything smells like new house...well... that was until we melted the plastic handle on one of our cheap pots and so filled the place with toxic fumes. The only real problem is that one of the rooms is not attached to the actual apartment, you have to go up the drive, up some stairs and into the room to get there, which will mean going to the toilet at night will be a small problem. On the upside, it’s got a double bed; it’s the only room with a nice view (or any view for that matter) and an electric operated blind... sweet.

Everyone from the team has been very caring for us as well, at the last team I’m not sure anyone actually knew they had English riders riding for them, but here everyone wants a piece of les Anglais. They’ve fitted us out with more cutlery than we could ever use, plenty of cups and glasses, loads of plates and nice range of pots and pans. Add to that the massive amounts of food our parents have brought over and you’ve got yourself a pretty decent set-up. Everyone I’ve seen has told me to call them if we need anything or want any help, but at the moment we seem to be doing alright! The owner of the apartments even gave us some eggs from his brothers’ farm and told us if we ever wanted any more he’d fill up the box for us!

Now time for some cycling, what we came here to do! I got a few rides in before the weekend, but nothing spectacular as my family were still over and I had trouble finding my way around looking at my map at every junction. Matt arrived on the Saturday morning and we got in a short ride in the morning where we were caught by another local club who were out training for the race the next day. We tagged on the back and they said we looked strong after they did a full on effort and we just rode onto the back of them...If only they knew about the cans of whoop-ass that were going to be opened all over them the following day.

Our first race would be the Prix d’ouverture, a very local 85km interclub race organised by our club. It was supposed to be more of a training race, but when we arrived everything was set-up on a fantastic scale. Barriers at the finish to hold back the crowd that was actually there, a massive podium (more on that later), and signs for the finish from 400metres to go as well as the obligatory closed roads. To try and emphasise the fact it was a training race, we did 2 laps neutralised before starting the actual distance. All they really did was make people more eager to start killing themselves...especially me. After the jostling for position in these first two laps the flag went down and we were off, off being the correct word. I was near the front and my team mate shouted me to follow his move, I duly did and we led into the first corner after about 800 metres of racing. It had been spitting rain all afternoon and the corners were getting slippy. This was found out by the 5 or so riders following us as we heard the crunching metal behind us. During the commotion another of our riders attacked to get across to us and there were 3 of us up the road with a gap. It was go time and the next 20 minutes were pretty painful. The wind was very strong which made it hard for only 3 riders doing short turns, but being from the same team there was no shirking and we held the small gap we had. In the end we started to pull away as the rest of the guys blocked anything that tried to get across to us. When we finally couldn’t see the bunch behind us I started to wonder what the hell was going on, how had 3 of us from the same team got away, it was the kind of thing you heard about but never actually happened to you. Well here it was, happening, to me. The lead cars pulled out to follow us and it was show time. We kept working, slowly pulling away then dropping back and then pulling away again as the bunch tried to react. With 4 laps to go we were told it was 42 seconds back to one person chasing and the bunch was nowhere. ‘On va gagner’ the more optimistic team mate said to me.

Then, with 3 laps to go, the gap started to come down, 32 seconds, 20 seconds...what was happening? This wasn’t in the script, the three of us had been out front since kilometre 0 and the legs were starting to fade, especially into the strong headwind round the back of the course. We put the pace up as much as we could, but the bunch was still coming back at us fast. We held it until just before the bell, when we were caught by the peloton that had now been diminished to about 15 riders. I was highly annoyed, all that work for nothing, or so I thought. The counter-attacks came instantly; I sat in following the wheels having lost my winning thoughts as soon as we were caught. The group split all over the place but never really with much conviction and came back together as easily as it had come apart. We then hit the windy section round the back and a few of our guys went up the road including Matt, I left it and covered everything else with one of the guys who had been in the break with me. My legs were hurting by now and cramp was setting in from somewhere, but I soldiered on and started to think about the sprint. I’d worked out we would be coming in for about 5^th place and thought this was definitely worth a pop, so with 200 metres to go I jumped on the right to try and get a few lengths on everyone. It worked...for about 100 metres, then everyone started to come back on me. 1 put a length and a half into me and then other just made it round which put me in 7^th.

There was better news though. Matt had attacked round the back part of the course and managed to stay away until the finish, winning his first race in France. The team had also taken 2^nd and 3^rd in an impressive display, even if it was only an opening season race. I had to go on the podium as translator, even though I hadn’t actually won anything but enjoyed it all the same. It’s all good for the moral anyway, even in the knowledge that next week will be much harder...and longer...and hillier. I should be ready for it, hopefully anyway, maybe this time I’ll win, who knows, although I don’t mind being podium translator, so as long as matt doesn’t learn French I’m ok.

Until next time,

A plus.

and so it begins...again

Well, here we are...again. But this time new location, new team, better legs and new confidence. I write this now from inside the Rural Gite me and my family are staying in for the week just south of Fougeres. Currently it’s a couple of degrees warmer outside than it is inside, it’s not warm outside. The fuse popped about 10 minutes ago because we plugged something in, the house couldn’t cope. It’ll be a couple of decades before central heating graces these parts, but other than this I can’t complain!

But before I go on, quite a bit has happened since my last post which seems quite a while ago. The first thing to tell you about is the Reliability (a bit like a sportive, but cheaper) cycle ride I organised to help raise some funds for this year. The day was brisk to say the least, temperatures spent as much time in the decimals as in the single digits, but luckily it was dry and not a bad day for a bike ride. The sun even came out towards the end. The cold didn’t put off a great crowd of people and there were 112 riders signed on for both the longer route and the shorter one. The great thing was people who would never usually ride the distance (57 miles) giving it a go and there were even a crowd of single speed riders who took part...fools. Many thanks to the Red Lion at Bobbington for helping me organise it, so readers, if you need a hotel, want a meal, or fancy a pint around the South Staffordshire region you know where to go....that is the Red Lion if anyone is actually wondering.

Also helping me out this year are Michelin Tyres through their distributor Hotlines UK. They are supplying me with some fantastic Michelin Pro3race tyres and tubes to keep me going through the season. It’s help like this which is invaluable for people trying to do what I am and so I am very grateful for their support, so readers, if you need some new tyres or tubes then you know what to get....Michelins (they do the Pro3race in loads of badass colours). So, in summary, a big thanks to everyone who has donated towards my plight in one form or another and if there’s anyone out there that wants me to help with their marketing, I’d be happy to show off your kit!

Now, we aren’t quite up to speed yet, but nearly there. Last week I took part in the annual Perfs Pedal Road Race in the south of England near Portsmouth, what is usually considered the cycling season opener. The race itself was a short 74km on pretty flat roads with a full field of 80 riders. I had been looking forward to it as I didn’t feel I was going too bad and wanted to test out the legs and lungs to see if they were actually operating as hoped. Also, there weren’t any really big guns down to do it, so in a way I fancied my chances. The race started off as races do, with early chancers trying to nip off the front, but with the race so short no one was willing to let anything go. I had a couple of goes and followed anything I considered dangerous, but it was to no avail. The course wasn’t hilly enough to really split it up and the field was too negative for anything to happen anyway. So I sat in and waited for the finish like everyone else. That was until 5km to go when a few horse riders decided to go for a walk through the bunch. I don’t like riding past horses at the best of times, but when you’re racing towards them in a big bunch of testosterone seeping blokes in lycra on plastic machines, things get a bit hairy. One bolted backwards and sideways into the road on seeing us, another with a young girl on started to run and wasn’t stopping anytime soon. The front riders had managed to get past without seeing this happen, but the events were unfolding right alongside me and my time was being spent avoiding death by horse.

I decided I was much safer in front of them than behind (not that I could stop anyway) and so got past as quickly as I could, it was only after that I heard that the young girl had actually fallen off. Not the safest of scenarios. Well, I was now past the horses and everyone seemed to decide it was race on, those that hadn’t been cut off by horse. I worked my way to the front for the long drag of a finish straight; in all the horse commotion I had missed what would prove to be the vital move. I saw one guy up the road but thought we might catch him by the finish, the sprint sort of started, but then didn’t, it was more of a slow grind up the hill that got faster. I started it 4th wheel and finished 4th wheel with one guy up the road, this made me 5th (ignore the British Cycling result, I was 5th). I was quite happy, first race, decent result and some prize money! It’s been a while since I’ve seen any of that; I certainly didn’t have a long face.....terrible, I know.

Since then I’ve been getting my stuff together ready for the off, sorting out my possible place at the University of Leeds during a whistle stop tour of the North. Visiting everyone who I thought might like to see me before I leave the country for several months and just general preparation of affairs. That was until Monday morning, when, at 3.25am my alarm went off telling me to get up and get my ass in gear, it was time to leave the country. This time, due to the distance being a lot less to the town I’d be living in, I was being driven over by my parents. The amount of stuff we put in the car, it’s a wonder I even managed in Alsace, everything; wheels, turbo trainer (why I brought that is anybody’s guess), clothes, kitchen sink, hairdryer, Frisbee, amongst several other things, probably still forgot something integral...like a bike.

The journey was pretty quick and easy, 8 hours on a boat is always boring, but being a manly man I handled it with only a few tears. A quick drive from Caen and we arrived at our Gite just south of Fougeres itself in a small place called Le Selle en Luitre. The place obviously wasn’t designed with anyone over 6 foot in mind or 5’9” for that matter, or anyone without a thick layer of fur. So this is where my second adventure in this country of countries begins, Fougeres is a great town with loads of history and a massive castle. Speaking of castles, I sort out my accommodation proper at the end of the week along with my first race; a small interclub one with little to no prestige....my kind of race, time for a win I feel.

Until the next time,

Laters.

PS. Sorry for the lack of photos, I've uploaded this using McDonalds no-so-fast Wifi Connection, but fear not, I will sort it asap.