Climbing Mt. Ventoux. Check

Two rides couldn't have been more different. Last year, on TdF stage day, we rode up Mt. Ventoux through tens of thousands of cheering fans, only to be stopped, heartbreakingly, 6 km from the top by a line of gendarmes who had effectively closed the road to the summit. Even so, whereas last year's ride was sheer joy, today was utter pain.

It was yet another beautiful day in Provence, although it was probably 20 to 25 degrees hotter than last year. We rode the 55 km from Joucas, over the Col de Mur, and down through vineyards and olive groves to Mormoiron and then to Bedoin, where the 21 km ascent official begins. 55 km is a nice warmup ride under ordinary circumstances, but facing a 21 km climb averaging probably close to a 10% grade is asking a lot. Nevertheless, we made one final stop to fill our bottles in Bedoin, and then the fun began.
I would guess that about 12 or 14 of us set off from the hotel on bikes (the other half-dozen or so riding in one of the two vans), and eight of us made the entire ride to the summit. After leaving Bedoin, the road quickly turns up to a steady climb of 10-12% grade, which goes on for kilometer after brutal kilometer. For the middle 10 km or so of the climb, I doubt that I ever saw a grade of less than 8% on the Garmin, and most of the time it was 10%+. Without any crowds or excitement to goad us on, there was nothing but the thoughts in my head, the incessant chirping of the crickets in the forest alongside the road, and the steady sound of my breathing. Between the temperature and the silence, the ride was sheer torture. Much harder than I remember last year. The vans were parked about halfway up, and I stopped for more water and got a dousing of cool water too, then continued up. Mostly alone, but occasionally in the company of one of the other riders in the group. At Chalet Reynard, 15 km into the climb, I paused again to catch my breath before starting up the final stretch, through the "moonscape" that is the top of Mt. Ventoux. It's one of the most unusual sights I've ever seen - one might even call it unique (this sentence dedicated to my brother and my editor). Actually, from Chalet Reynard the grade was quite a bit easier, although still in the 7-8% range, until the final, perversely cruel kilometer that tipped up at a steady 11-12% grade until one last steep switchback led to the peak, at the base of the weather tower and a small plaza filled with people who had ridden or driven all the way up. Total time to ride uphill for 15 miles from Bedoin to the summit: 2 hours and 35 minutes.

After a brief stop for photos, about eight of us, plus four of our guides, started the descent down another side of the mountain. This was another 21-mile ride, steadily downhill at the same steep pitches. The road wasn't too twisty, so we could get up quite a bit of speed, until two sharp right turns near the bottom where my rear tire lost its grip and I nearly went over. But all ended OK and I made it to the bottom upright and unscathed. Total riding for the day was just under 100 km, or about 60 miles. Hard to believe that the Ventoux climb was only about 25% of that distance. We gathered for lunch (at 4 p.m!) in the village, watched the last 30 km of today's stage live and in French on a big TV that was out on the terrace, and then took the long drive back to Joucas.

When I arrived at the hotel, I found, to my delight, that Air France had found my bike case (which contained not only my bike but all my riding gear save one pair of shorts and one jersey that I had packed in my suitcase) and had delivered it to the hotel from Marseille as promised. So, the truth can now be told; I rode up Mt. Ventoux today on a borrowed bike, with none of my gear, WEARING SNEAKERS IN PEDAL CAGES. Not the way I've imagined it for the last 10 months, but immensely satisfying anyway. Tomorrow: back on my Orca, and a gently rolling 92 km ride towards our next stop, Carcassonne.