Ventoux

And then there is Ventoux.

For each of the categories, there is a climb.  There is the steepest climb, the longest climb, the greatest elevation gain, the highest finish.  And then there is Ventoux.  Ventoux dominates any discussion on cycling, when the discussion turns to climbs.

Mont Ventoux is not the biggest, prettiest, most dramatic or scenic mountain, but it dominates the region it sits within, Provence.  It is visible from the Cevennes, where we have been, and the Alps, where we are going and on a clear day you can see the Mediterranean from the summit. It’s alluring summit is visible from all over Provence.  Ventoux captures everyone’s imagination and awe. At each of the towns we have stayed in or ridden through, when talking with a local, be it a shopkeeper, a neighbour or owner of a house we have stayed in, when they discover we’re cyclists, they would all ask the same question: are you riding Ventoux?

And to top it off, with Ventoux, you climb to the top.  Most other climbs typically ascend to a col, a saddle in our terminology, mountain pass in others, you don’t actually get to climb a mountain, your top is the gap between two mountains. 

There are three routes up Ventoux with the most famous, the hardest and the most ridden starting in Bedoin, so it is from there that we ride from.  On a previous ascent we had parked at a town nearby and rode across the shoulder of Ventoux with the aim of warming up, but even crossing the shoulder of Ventoux constitutes a major climb so last time we were beyond warm and well into worked by the time we arrived at Bedoin.

There is a line drawn across a side road not more than 20m from a roundabout on the main street that marks the start of the climb.  Having driven to Bedoin and parked at the other end of town it was at best a perfunctory warm up. 

As is our way on these big days we start early to avoid the forecast 30deg and 20km/hr winds, which may not seem so strong, unless they are in your face, as they were forecast to be today. The forecast for tomorrow of 50km/hr wind putting aside the question in our minds of whether we had adequately recovered from previous rides. 

There are several challenges to the big climbs, most but not all, mental.  On the Soulor, where the slope kicks to 9% right from town, the challenge is to convince yourself that it can’t remain like this to the top.  Where it doesn’t rise steeply at the start, the challenge is to convince yourself that it will soon enough, and not to go too hard.  All of this is known by everybody, and forgotten by most of us.

I cross the line in the road marking the start, and moving swiftly in the big ring I catch a bunch in the first few kilometres that were out of sight when I started.  I had wanted to ‘make up some time’, on the gentler gradients knowing that once it steepened my ability to change speed is limited.  Although riding alone – it is still a race!  First a bus, then a few cars restrict my ability to pass the bunch.  When I do pass, I do it gradually, purposefully, rather than rashly, more settled due to the time spent waiting.

After 6km the gradient kicks up to 8s & 9s, often hitting 10% & 11% and it will stay like this for at least 10km.  After the first km of the steepness, the sense that I am hitting my head against a wall returns.  Rather than spinning with a nice cadence as I had hoped, I feel as though I am groping my way up, never truly certain that the ground I have claimed will not be given up again.

But the average gradient on Ventoux is only 8% you say.  Can it be that hard.  Ignore averages!  Averages don’t actually exist, you never, never, ride the average.

On climbs with lower gradients, or where the steepness is not as long, the challenge, the mental challenge, is to maintain the pressure on the pedals as the pain builds and the body begins to ache because you are taking the fight to the climb.  The challenge is to maintain the pressure such that the needle sits just below the red line.  On these giants, it is as simple as this, if you don’t maintain pressure, and lots of it, the bike will stop and you will fall off.  The climb takes the fight to you. But even so, there is still a battle to measure out your effort, to contain yourself.  Riding these giants so infrequently it is hard to interpret the sensations – how much am I hurting, how hard should I go.

I am still in the forest.  It is pretty.  In spite of my travails I can still appreciate the surroundings.  In places the road twists through a series of continual S’s, with small outcrops, not really cliffs, close to the edge of the road, giving a sense of being in a continuous though low heighted canyon.

Sweat.  My body is lathered in it, even though occasionally my breath steams and I have not yet been going an hour.  There is a constant stream of sweat dripping onto the stem, the speedo and the light: a mess.  The drops metronomic in sync with my cadence.

I talk frequently of the unrelenting nature of these climbs.  It is difficult to convey the situation where it is impossible to rest, to ease up.  On easier gradients, you don’t want to ease up, the game being to push as hard as you can.  But here, all I desire is a chance to ease the pressure on the pedals for just a few metres.

Up ahead, two cyclists, riding alone.  ‘Pass others as you would have them pass you’, I think to myself.  What does that mean?  With deference.  They started before me, so they have suffered for longer.  I give them space, no loud jaunty ‘Hi’ and rip past them, instead, a murmured hello and slowly move past.

I had forgotten to set my speedo on the line, so in spite of the briefness of the warmup I cannot be sure how far I have come, and how far to go.  Unlike other famous climbs, there are very few milestones, and the nominated distance to the top on the ones that exist vary my final calculated distance: it plays on my mind.

I see a couple, cyclists, exit a toilet block.  Shortly after, the lady whirs past me …. an e-bike.  I don’t dispute the positive impact these will have on our society, but here, on Ventoux, it feels sacrilegious   And after a short gap, the man, on a very, very expensive Pinarello.  And he is working, spinning, but in a scratchy rather than fluid style, his body all over the bike. Instinctively I pick up the pace, and stay with him for a while, and then remember that I must ride my own race, so slip back to my pace.  Not long after, we reach the Chalet, a significant marker, and the two of them head straight to it rather than continuing on.

You Bastard!

You come round me in a flurry of arms & legs, and then a few kms later you stop for another rest.  Velominati Rules of Cycling #38 – No Leapfrogging – especially on the Ventoux I say.

Finally, passing the Chalet, the gradient eases to mid 7s, hence it’s significance, but what makes Ventoux dominant, is that by now, your legs are stuffed.  With the drop it gradient, it’s as though I can feel the training kick in, I feel I can get on top of the pedals and cycle.  A quiet thankyou to Sweeney is offered.  At 10-11%, I feel like I am groping, stumbling up the hill, but at 7-8% I can feel the effect of the strength training and feel solid, assured.

For more than an hour, the top has been hidden by the forest, but now, the tower is visible.  I have been here before, and know the torment that view brings: it does not appear to get any closer in spite of your efforts.  The saying in climbing, to avoid fear, is of course, ‘don’t look down’.  But when cycling Ventoux, it should be ‘don’t look up’.  Thankfully, from here, the view outwards is worth enjoying, so I do.  Stubbornly!

I come across a flock of sheep on the road, tended by two old sheep dogs.  One of which trots down the road towards me and stands between part of the flock and me.  Very cute.

I can see Pam above me, distinctive with her flashing light.  There is someone with her, a man from Bedoin, who I learn later rode with her almost the entire way – very thoughtful.

The last 3km are described as very hard, and they are, but I don’t feel I labour them as I did last time.  Then the last km is reached – 10 is the magic number: the gradient (%) does not drop below it, and my speed (km/hr) never goes above it.  Now I can dare to look up and savour these moments.  The legs are in pain, but I can see the pain will soon end.  Round the final bend – it is steep, steeper than it appears in pictures, and then across the top.  No, there is no exhilaration, there never is when climbing a mountain, only relief.

If I return to France, would I, submit, and ride Ventoux again.

Of course!  Ventoux is dominant.

The Numbers

Distance:  47km

Height Gained:  1,700m

Time: (for the climb) 1:46 (previous time 1:49)

Postscript.

On our last attempt, Pam had two rests.  On this attempt – none.  AND, Pam beat her previous time by >20min.  But, paid for it at the top.  Pam could not walk, could not move even.  Agony.  I suggested she ride around the flat at the top, to get the legs moving – but she was unable to even do this.

The Descent.

Took it easy.  Heaps of cyclists coming up.  Heaps.  Which means the cars are always on the wrong side of the road.

A campervan swung out to overtake two cyclists going up, and almost cleaned me up.  I had to thread the needle at 60km+ between the van and the guardrail.  A single word … shouted EXTREMELY loudly.  Turns out there was good reason for my caution on the descent.

It is a fast descent, but never truly flowing, so not a memorable or very enjoyable descent.  But it is long.  You really get a sense of the effort required when you spend a l o n g time going down.

One of the best plates of spaghetti carbonara can be had in Bedoin.