Arriving in Massat 3 days before the Raid kicked off, was intended to get the legs warmed up and the mind tuned in for the epic mountain passes to come. Even a “short” 8km climb required a very different tactic and style than what we were accustomed to. Johannesburg is littered with what I call power hills, ie. chose a significantly big gear and power your way over the top, then recover. Not much panache or rhythm required but effective in the environment. Q-boy Walker, a fan of the BIG chain ring, and an excellent Jhb cyclist, was soon found spinning up a mountain pass in easy gears which he didn’t know his bike had. (Note to London riders: Q-boy rode up Boxhill in big chain ring). Ant Pickering, later to be called Montagne Chevre (mountain goat), also had to revisit his cycling manual where generally a hill represents an ideal opportunity to attack. Once again very effective in certain environments, but not for where we were going.

After spending 4 days in Massat we headed for Hendaye on the Atlantic coast, just north of the Spanish border and close to Biarritz. Not a bad seaside resort, but our hotel/motel was a bit out of town. Here we met our fellow raiders, which included 4 poms (squirrel 1 / squirrel 2, Simon and psychotic mountain descender Lee), 2 Canadians (Matt and his pop star wife Andrea) and of course the motley Saffa crew, including myself, Roberto Riccardi (the Rocky Balboa of cycling), Shane Peters (later referred to as the L’Assassin, always quiet and ready to pounce), Richard Meinesz (La Poof – due to recently peroxided hair, also aka Richard Virenque, the legendary French Tour De France hero), Quinton Walker (Q-boy, deadly on the valley roads), Duncan Barrable (not sure what nickname Duncs had, but Bastard sprang to mind more often than not at the pace he sometimes rode) and finally Ant Pickering, Montagne Chevre.

L-R: Duncan (Le Bastard), Rob (Rocky Balboa), Q-boy, Richard (La Poof), Shane (L’Assassin), Nick (Paysan), Ant (Montagne Chevre)

Day 1 Hendaye – Arude (180km)

• Col d’Asqich

Listening hard to the breathing patterns of your adversary was paramount and as soon as any sign of weakness was identified a natural increase in pace was dished out. Gaps began to develop and before we knew it Chevre (ie. Ant) was showing everyone how hills/shorter mountains are supposed to be ridden, very hard. Mild panic ensued and Matt and Squirrel 2 were dropped. L’Assassin (Shane) watching the madness had some common sense and dropped off a bit as he knew there was more to come. The next surge was from moi at about 2kms from the summit to give Squirrel 1 a final test. Fortunately he was dropped. Cresting the summit, positions 1-5 taken by Saffa’s. Happy days. King of the mountains and team points looking good. The rest of the day was handed over to Shane and Q-boy, who systematically rode Squirrel 1 into the ground on a fast undulating course to the foothills of the Pyrenees. Although I wasn’t there to witness the final 45km, the day went to Q. He knew he’d struggle in the hors categorie climbs of the following day, but this didn’t matter. All cards were laid down. Bon Courage.

Day 2: Arudy – Hotel Les Deux Col (110km)

• Col d'Aubisque
• Col d’Tourmalet

Duncan (Bastard for the purposes of this article) and Squirrel 1 hit Aubisque hard, but unfortunately took a wrong turn. They then overtook us again with a pace that was way to hot too handle. Knowing we would be climbing for such a long time, Shane, Richard (La Poof) and I headed off at a steady pace. Q boy was climbing like a maniac and we only saw him with about 5km to the summit. Ant was also going well and had left his hill attack manual behind for the day as he settled into a nice steady rhythm. Rocky unfortunately had injured his knee a week previously at Windsor Triathlon and was now attempting these major climbs pedalling with one leg! Fortunately he had young Andrea to keep him company in these trying times.

Duncan ascended Aubisque like an eagle and wasn’t seen again, although Richard (Virenque) claimed he came within spitting distance. The weather wasn’t kind to us on day 2 with drizzle and visibility of about 75m. This lead to an interesting scenario with about 2 kms to the summit of Aubisque. Richard thought he saw Squirrel 1 about 100m ahead (we’d seen him about an hour earlier as he flew past us with Duncan), and attacked. I confirmed it was him about 500m later, and also attacked. Shane triple confirmed it was him and pipped him on the finish. Places 1-4 by Saffa’s again, and Squirrel 1 was now in desperate trouble. Not only had Squirrel 2 deserted him, but we still had Tourmalet to come.

The descent was freezing and dangerous with slippery roads, no visibility and lots of livestock on the road. RV’s taking up most of the road didn’t help much either. A long valley ride with all of us keeping together, other than deaf Lee, took us to the base of Col d’Tourmalet. Duncan, probably struggling after his earlier efforts, took things a bit easier and joined the Aubisque group of Shane, Richard and myself. There wasn’t any aggression on Tourmalet as we were all a bit tired and cold and in honesty the Squirrels had been dropped very early in the climb. Brandy’s were had at the top of Tourmalet in celebration to help with the 17km descent as it was freezing. We were all happy with the day however as its not often you climb 2 hors categorie climbs in a day, which form part of the Pyrenean Circle of Death, and come out alive. Ride of the day went to Duncan for his attack on Aubisque and ability to maintain form on Tourmalet. Previous day Maillot Jaune, Q-boy, had understandably slipped back a bit on the climbs and was indeed paying for the previous days efforts.

Day 3: Hotel Les Deux Col – Massat (168km)

• Col d'Aspin
• Col de Peyresourde
• Col d'Ares
• Col de Buret
• Col de Portet d'Aspet

A wrong turn or two added about an extra 10kms for the day, but Q-boy was back in his most loved terrain, the valley road. Average speeds were kept at a calming 45-50kph as the Q train left town. Unfortunately the valleys don’t last forever and are really the transition from one mountain pass to another. Next on the menu was Col d’Ares which was neither long nor significantly steep but the peloton (or should I say myself) was bored with the Détente Cordial and a few shake ups were required.

This move would dictate the last 80km of the day. Expecting the summit to be in 3km’s I attacked. Unfortunately it was a miscalculation with the summit being 7kms away. The cards had been laid down though, so the attack had to survive. The trio of Duncan, Shane and myself summitted together with Squirrels 1 & 2 positively flogged on the slopes of the Ares. Lunch was had atop Ares before the climb of Col de Portet D’Aspet which is feared due to a 3km section of extremely steep gradients, maxing at 18%. This is the Col where Fabio Casartelli lost his life descending 10 years before in the TDF.

Fabio was cycling for the Motorola team, of which Lance Armstrong was a member. He wasn’t wearing a helmet and he took a corner at high speed and lost control. He fell and headbutted a road bollard. The TDF continued the next day, but wasn’t raced and was more a procession in his honour. The Motorola team was allowed to cross the finish line first, 8 abreast. Tour cyclists talk of this day as being one of the worst ever. Not only for the death of Fabio, but because they weren’t racing and as such spent an exceptionally long day in the saddle and got in very late, leaving little time for recovery for the next day.

Duncan wasn’t enjoying the gradient, nor heat, on Col de Portet D’Aspet so decided, to our disadvantage, to complete the climb as fast as possible. This of course blew the small group apart. At the summit Duncs was found spread eagled, counting stars. After a brief respite and waiting for the Squirrels we set off for the fast descent to St Giron. The ride to St Giron was always going to be ugly. All hell broke loose, and with the speeds attained on the descent L’Assassin lost a contact lens. While he replaced it, the Squirrels, with Q-boy (the valley road specialist), were getting away.

The left turn to St Giron said 2km to go, but the 1 was missing and it was indeed 12km. This I knew as we had done the ride 5 days earlier. A high speed chase ensued with myself, Duncs and Shane. (Unfortunately Ant got dropped on the descent. This meant a 52km solo ride back to Massat which he was mildly displeased about). The breakaway group was caught with about 6 km’s to go. The 30km ride from St Giron to Massat was uneventful other than trying to hang onto Duncan’s wheel as he headed for home. The evening in Massat was as like every evening, a jovial affair. A quick shower and maybe some snacks before heading to the local bar at around 5:30pm for a few beers and recounting of the days stories. Supper was at 7:30pm which entailed 5 courses and copious amounts of vin rouge. To say we were stuffed every evening is an understatement, and generally had to take a short walk after dinner to let all the food settle. Day 4 cyclist of the day undoubtably went to Richard. He spent the day with Rob (who’s knee was now really buggered) Andrea and Matt. It’s difficult to explain, but it’s very hard riding below your optimal speed.

Day 4 – Massat – Prades (167km)

• Col de Port
• Col de Puymorens

After Tarbes it was a long valley ride to the base of Puymorens. I had my second major mechanical of the trip when my chain broke (the first being my rear wheel self destructing on day 1). Fortunately I had skills around me and the chain was fixed in 5 minutes. Admittedly I was angry and was keen to obliterate Puymorens, but with 30kms to go that wasn’t going to be a good idea. I also still had a slight headache, however the pills Richard gave me at the first stop were beginning to work. Imagine what that must’ve looked like to the casual observer. A cyclist popping pills behind the support vehicle!

The climb over Puymorens was otherwise relatively uneventful, other than some confusion over which road would take us to the summit. At about 7km’s to the summit I’d had enough and the pills were working wonders and off I went. Rich, Duncs and Shane followed for an assault on the summit. It was a brutal last stretch but the views from the top were great and we all looked forward to the descent. Prades was still a long way away and we had a few more cols to climb.

Ant (now talking to me again after “I” left him behind for the solo ride to Massat) found his legs and decided to attack on the last major Col of the day. As we’d all done previously he misjudged the summit a bit and put his kick in a bit early. Pride was at stake though and he had to extend his attack. It was an impressive attack though, especially as it was into a headwind. The ride into Prades was 40km’s of downhill. Fantastic. The only problem however was Lee, the deaf descender, who took every possible risk to get down a mountain in the shortest possible time. Ant, Richard, Shane and I were having none of it and time trialled at max effort to get into Prades before Lee. All sounds a bit childish, and admittedly I was the primary instigator, but it was fun. Lee later admitted that he had exactly the same intention and was expecting to see us around every corner. Prades was a great stop, but admittedly I was now very tired and looking forward to the short hop to Cerbere.

Day 5 Prades – Cerbere (92km)
An official Pyrenean Raid gives you 100 hrs to finish. This meant we had until 1pm to finish on the Thursday, having started at 9am the Sunday previously. Fortunately the stage was short at 92km with no significant climbs. The roads were unfortunately getting busier as we approached the Mediterranean. They were also confusing with hundreds of roundabouts. Due to this we rode the last day together as a group so no one would get lost.

This was of course until the last hill (not an official Col) when I did my final and most comprehensive attack of the Raid to beat the Squirrels once and for all. Cerbere was a great village to end the raid. Everyone was tired after having put everything into the adventure. Whether it be cycling, drinking vin rouge, speaking rubbish or just in general having a great time. That evening was a grand celebration party and also a farewell to our new found friends. Andrea and Matt were heading to celebrate their 10 year wedding anniversary at a chateau and the squirrels were heading back to England. I think everyone was a little emotional that Friday as we said our goodbyes.

L’Ariegeoise (169km road race)

• Col d’Peugere
• Col de la Trappe
• Col d’Saraille
• Col d’Agnes

Ant had a few problems with his entry and sensibly decided to do the shorter 110km race with one legged Rob, who wasn’t quite as sensible but fought to the end, hence Rocky Balboa. Q-boy hit the race hard on the flatter valley roads and I never saw him again. Shane, Richard, Duncan and I set off at a steadier pace. Richard had to fix his crank and Duncan was having issues with his pedal. The race was long, so losing a few minutes here and there really didn’t matter. To put it in perspective, by the time we reached the first summit of the day, Col d’Peugere, we were already 2hrs into the race.

The race settled down as we raced through Biert and down to St Giron. Team Barloworld were doing way too much work at the front of the peloton, but the French were lazy. The next climb was Col de la Trappe, which we’d already done and didn’t have any problems. The ride down the valley to Col d’Saraille was fantastic. No riders around us could live with our pace other than one French guy that thought he was on a free ride until L’Assassin told him, “either f’off or do some work”. He was very committed from then on.

The final climb of the race was Col d’Agnes. It was now 38c and a little unpleasant. I cracked as Duncan, Richard and then Shane rode away from me. My race was done and all I could do was focus on getting over the mountain. Duncan & Richard caught Q with about 3 km to go and Shane about 2 km later. An awesome race and the ride of the day/tour by Q. The 4 sportingly waited for me at the summit which was unnecessary. We all descended to Tarbes together and finished the race in 6h45m. We linked up with comrades Ant & Rob for our final trip back to base in Massat.

How can I sum up 11 days of cycling in France? Not exactly a relaxing holiday, but unbelievable fun, especially with such a great group of friends. Senses of humour were lost every now and then, but the dark clouds didn’t hover for long, and the humour was back. Attacks were made and attacks were neutralised. Legs and butts were sore from many hours of pedalling. Heads were throbbing from copious vin rouge the evening before but they cleared fast and all was good and well as you pedalled your way though God’s interpretation of cycling Utopia.