TGS Raid Pyrénéen - Day 1: Cerbère to Ax-les-Thermes

Distance / Ascent – 193km / 4221m

Cols – Col du Pere Cornere (69m), Col de las Portas (77m), Col de Ternere (240m), Col Saint Pierre (240m), Col de la Quillane (1714m), Col de Trabesses (1920m), Port de Pailhères (2001m)

Checkpoints – Cerbère, Prades

GPS file – http://ridewithgps.com/routes/5484284

Flat, flat...Up!

The first day of a trip like this is always a bit of a shock to the system and waking up at 6am is never much fun (especially when time zones mean it's really 5am). Today was no different. We woke with a sense of apprehension, as we all knew that it was going to be a long day in saddle!

A consequence of completing the ride within 100 hours and across five days riding is that Day 1 is always going to be the biggest day of the trip (and mainly uphill, as you approached the Pyrenean foothills, for good measure). And so it was, Day 1 was the biggest of the five both in terms of distance (193km) and ascent (RidewithGPS was spitting out 4222m, slightly on the high side as it turned out). The first major climb of the trip, the hors catégorie Port de Pailhères, coming at the very end of the day. People were right to be worried.

#kitgrid

After making one of the most important decisions of the day – deciding what kit to wear – we headed down for a big breakfast and some final bike tinkering before getting the first stamp in our carnet (or in Gibson’s case a receipt – having already contrived to have lost his card before even setting off).

Bike faff

There was some gaming of our start time – a later start on Day 1 meant more time to arrive in Hendaye on Day 5 but also arriving potentially quite late in Ax-les-Thermes at the end of Day 1. With a mixed ability group there was some balancing to be done here and we eventually ended up rolling out a little before 8.30am.

Control 1

Looking at the profile at the top of this post we had convinced ourselves that the hard work wouldn't really start until approx. kilometre 80 and the first part of the day would be a flat roll-out towards the Pyrenean foothills. It was, therefore, a little bit of a shock to go straight into a climb as we left Cerbere and then to head up and down the hilly coastal road. Fabulous views, but a little tough on the legs so early in the day.

Into the mountains...

It wasn't long however before we found some respite on (false) flat roads as we motored as a group towards our first planned stop in Prades – a chance to refuel and get our second stamp of the trip.

Control 2

Style!

In keeping with TGS food stops, there was a fair amount of faffing and a healthy amount of junk food (several pizzas, bowls of fries and cans of coke) thrown into the mix as we took over a local cafe to the bemusement of the locals.

The faffing and the second round of drinks/food (and Paddy 'losing' his gloves in his jersey pocket) were probably a unconscious delaying tactic as Prades really did sit at the base of the Pyrenees and the 'real' beginning of the trip. The gentle false flat roads would quickly be replaced with a long drag up to Mont Louis and the Col de la Quillane.

Having set off together from Prades the slowly ramping climb to Mont Louis was soon upon us and the group, weighed down with doughy pizza, began to fracture. Will, Gibson, Hankey and I were towards the front tapping out a good rhythm as we pulled away from the rest.

As the road started to ramp up even more, so did the temperature. Soon we were riding on wide roads under the baking midday heat, as the tree cover retreated from us. I found myself riding, chatting with Hankey as we continued to keep a good pace and left Will and Gibson slightly further back on the road.

As we chatted Hankey dropped back to let some traffic pass. After a few minutes I turned round; she was gone – something not lost on Will as him and Gibson caught her a short while later. Hankey would continue to push herself just a little too much for the rest of the week, gradually, bit by bit taking herself down both physically and mentally…

As I continued alone, the heat intensifying, the road surface worsened. My bike bounced along the striated concrete road surface, gravel flicking up everywhere. The heat so oppressive and the road so boring now that with my head down, focussing on the patch of road five yards in from of me only, I almost took myself out as I clattered into a roadworks sign!

As the climb shallowed and came towards its end I passed through the tourist site of Mont Louis and on towards Col de la Quillane – our agreed lunch stop off point. Unbeknown to me I had passed Steve, who had been waiting at Mont Louis, on my way through. Arriving at Col de la Quillane to find nothing, not even a mountain refuge shack, I continued down the other side of the climb and on towards the next town.

Hearing my phone ring, I stopped to check my voicemeail and found that everyone had stopped in Mont Louis for lunch…! Faced with the prospect of heading back up the hill to meet them I decided to wait it out in the main square of the small town of Formigeurres.

Wait it out I did, for two whole hours, before Will, Gibson and Hankey finally arrived and we descended down the base of Port de Pailhères together.

The first challenge of the trip.... #baaw

Lots of yellow that should be red.....

I have fond memories of my first climb up Port de Pailhères in 2010 – rain, electrical storms, hail stone,s the sixe of sugar cubes hiding in a ditch, Phil getting knocked off his bike by a cow, but mainly just the rugged beauty of the road and climb. We had actually included the Port de Pailhères as an ‘additional extra’ to avoid spending the whole day on busy main roads (and to trim some distance off the day) and I was glad we did despite it being a brute of a climb. It really is the archetypical Pyrenean climb – varying and inconsistent gradient, narrow roads, rugged landscapes and sheep and cows roaming free across the roads. Climbing at my own pace, I eventually found myself alone on the road with the sheep.

Out of my way sheep!

I hit the top as the light began fading and took in the great views briefly before heading down on a fast and exhilarating descent.

Up, Up, UP!

19km to go #baaw

As I dropped like a stone down the side of the mountain, suddenly I couldn’t steer my bike. My front tyre had burst and my front wheel had no traction at all. I hit the brakes hard as I dared and slowed across the road and into the grass verge.

Quickly replacing the inner tube I was on my way again and shortly arrived at the hotel in Ax-les-Thermes just in time for dinner (having received an email from the hotelier – concerned that we were not going to turn up).

Over the next hour and a half the rest of the group rolled in, exhausted but buoyed by the day’s achievements!

Dinner was literally (in its newly ordained meaning) hovered up before we all retired to our rooms for the evening.

TGS Raid Pyrénéen - Day 0: Spanish warm-up

This year's annual TGS cycling trip was a break from the norm.

Unlike previous trips, we wouldn't be basing ourselves in one location and completing a series of out-and-backs or loops (or not as has been the case), returning each day to the comfort of a familiar hotel, rather we would be going point-to-point as we traversed the length of the Pyrenees between Cerbère on the Mediterranean coast and Hendaye on the Atlantic (ultimately ending up in Biarritz for a celebratory blow-out).

We were taking on the challenge of completing the Raid Pyrénéen – a 720 km route passing over 18+ cols to be completed in under 100 hours – and we had each contacted the Cyclo-Club Béarnais to obtain our official  "carnet", which we would get stamped at various control points (cafés or shops) along the route.

For many (read most) of the group the sheer volume (distance and ascent) of cycling, on back-to-back days, was something that they had not, or had the inclination to, undertake before. The levels of training reflected this and the group turned up at the Stansted Airport looking leaner and more prepared than ever before.

A set of kit for every day, naturally

Our departure from Stansted to Perpignan was at an uncharacteristically sociable hour for a sports trip and I even had time to spend the morning with Vicky and Edie (I would be leaving poor Vicky with our gorgeous 8 week old daughter for the duration of the 6 day trip – a very understanding wife – and I would miss them terribly) before driving to the airport. After an uneventful flight (with all bikes safely loaded onto the plane) we soon had a fab view of the beach/Mediterranean that we would be so briefly staying with and the foothills of the mountains we would soon be meeting.

More 'energy' than a man could need (and a slight OCD tendency)

On arriving in Cerbère we met up with Steve, who would be driving our support vehicle for the duration of the trip, and quickly put together our bikes to head out for a short test ride.

I am pretty sure the test ride was at Steve's suggestion as, having seen our woeful attempts to put together our bikes and the clear variation of ability levels in the group, he was no doubt slightly concerned about how long he would be out on the road with us for the next five days.

Thankfully our short climb up to the Spanish border did something at least to convince Steve that we could, in fact, ride bikes and that we were not complete jokers. Or he was simply too polite to say anything.

Cerbère - not much going on!

A huge carb loading dinner at our hotel (to compliment the pizzas we had snaffled an hour prior whilst building our bikes), was followed by a quick dip in the Med before we all headed to bed to get some much needed sleep.

Day 1 would be a big day (the longest) and storms were being predicted.

TGS take the Dolomites (Part II)

The Dolomites continued......

Day 3

After a long day the day before (both in terms of distance cycled and time spent in the van!) the general consensus was for a slightly easier day. Given the closed pass debacle of the previous day the view also was that an out-and-back ride might be sensible. It was also the day of the Grand Fondo so everyone was keen to avoid the Stelvio (and the Mortirolo, obviously) too.

With all of the above in mind it was agreed that we would head out of Bormio and straight up the side of the Gavia which we had been unable to descend the day before. Roly and I were hoping that it was still impassable at the top to avoid any questions (accusations?) about our decision to turn back the day before.

Being a shorter day, the start time for both pelotons was pushed back an hour to allow for a little more time in bed and for breakfast (an opportunity to stuff your face to cram in all the calories you can).

Again we headed off as two separate groups; this time around 40mins apart. The second peloton this time was just Roly, Paddy and me and after the previous day’s black spots it was a bit more of a social ride as the road rose.

This side of the Gavia proved much easier, but no less cold

It was actually a very pleasant climb and certainly felt a lot easier than the climb the previous day. Soon the three of us were catching and passing the first peloton as we closed in on the snow line.

As soon as we did hit the snow line the weather, however, noticeably changed. It naturally became far colder but the wind also picked up as we turned a corner and found ourselves on a more exposed part of the mountain. The roads became rougher and the snow began to creep onto the sides.

Into the snow....

... in the snow!

Eventually we were pedalling through snow. Back wheels spinning. As we got within 1km of the top, Beard and Durden (the second peloton riders that wimped out and fancied an easy day) passed us on the way back down, having decided that the blizzard that was coming in and snow that covered now the entire road meant that the pass was impassible. We cycled on a bit to confirm what we already knew, layered up and then started a freezing cold descent.

Riding in the snow; 500m from the summit.

Once below the snow line the roads straightened out a little and allowed us to fully open up and fly down the mountain, hitting speeds of close to 80km/h. If we hadn’t been cycling directly into a headwind we would have been going scarily fast.

A quick change (pulling a pair of jeans over the bib shorts) and a huge pizza lunch awaited us all in Bormio’s main square. The stragglers of the Grand Fondo were passing through just within the time cut with an ascent of the Stelvio still to go. We were all glad to be eating rather then heading up even higher than the top of the Gavia.

After lunch it was only Roly, Paddy and me (a pattern forming here?) that fancied burning off some of the calories inhaled at lunch, so we headed out again to Lake Cancano with the intention this time of actually seeing the lake itself.

Whether it was the pizza sitting in the stomach or the fact that we had already burned up this climb a few days previously I am not sure, but it was climbed at a much more leisurely pace than the time previously.

On reaching the top we rounded the corner and negotiated the dirt/gravel track up to the lake which was totally deserted except for a large café. I am not sure if the café owner was expecting anyone, the place was completely empty, but it was the perfect place to stop for a quick espresso and a bar of chocolate before heading back down the awesome hairpinned descent into Bormio.

Nothing like a mountaintop espresso

The day was rounded off with a quick visit to the hotel’s sauna and another huge meal (and plenty of wine).

Day 4

The bike set up at the hotel was fabulous. A dedicated bike storage room with bike hangers and all the necessary tools, pumps and workstands. Given the Grand Fondo over the weekend the bike racks were pretty full.

Getting ready in the morning we started chatting to some guys that were clearly very pleased with themselves, having finished the Grand Fondo the day before. Their responses and general attitude managed to encapsulate what is wrong with too many cyclists… arrogance and a burning need for upmanship. I’ve said it before, but you’d have thought they had just won the Elite Men’s World Road Race Championships not competed in an averagely difficult sportive with a bunch of weekend warriors. Roly, Paddy and I couldn’t keep speaking to them for long.

The route for the day was a loop. We had checked that the passes were open. We felt confident that we wouldn’t need to turn around and head back the way we came. We were nearly wrong again.

The 125km loop would take us over Passo Bernina/Forcola di Livigno, involving a 34km climb out of Tirano, into Switzerland and then back into Italy before a traverse across to Livigno before a rapid descent back into Bormio.

As was the norm by now, Paddy, Roly and I set off in the second peloton around 45mins after the first and flew down the 40km valley descent to Tirano in no time. We rolled through the town and then turn right up the valley to the beginning of climb. It was getting hot.

34kms and 1,850m of vertical ascent away!

Pretty soon we were baking in the valley heat as we climbed at a decent tempo. Paddy was struggling in the heat and dropped off the back a little, later to pass Roly and I as we stopped to take photos of Lago di Poschiavo. We stopped right on a train track and I almost lost my front wheel as a train sped by.

Soon we had caught the first peloton, who were riding as a group – Emily haven fallen off after getting her front wheel caught in a tram line running along the road – and had Paddy in our sights again. Williams was just behind Paddy, having put in another of his often ill-advised ‘attacks’ in an attempt to break him. Roly and I pushed on at a punishing pace on what was seemingly an interminable (but beautiful in parts) climb.

One of the better views on the climb. Switzerland in the background.

We caught Durden (W), blearing out heavy metal from his iPhone, as we approached the snow line and the signposted turning to St Moritz and were told that Beard ‘wasn’t too far ahead’. Hoping to catch Beard we again pushed on as the road began to really kick up for a steep final 4kms. We were never to catch Beard.

The final push to the top

On arriving at the summit Roly and I quickly discovered a large mountaintop café and restaurant that was perfect for a regroup and refuel. There was no sign of Beard anywhere; for some, still not fully explained reason, he had decided to push on and had cycled straight past the meeting point.

It was at this point that two skinny, down jacketed Italian guys told us that the road was closed and that there had been an avalanche. Not quite sure whether to believe them, we ignored them for a bit. The rest of the group were beginning to arrive as we were coming to the realisation (based on the traffic jam forming) that the pass was in fact blocked. No one wanted to turn around and head back the way we had just come (again)!

Our two Italian friends wondering how to get their car out of the middle of the avalanche....

Not wanting to make any rash decisions we all settled in to the restaurant and had a big lunch and coffees in the hope that the roads would soon be cleared. With lunch finished I volunteered to head down the road to the avalanche itself to see whether it was likely to be cleared or it we could get through. It didn’t look promising, snow was still slowly trickling down the mountain face and the avalanche tunnel was still 75% blocked. A JCB was however clearing the snow. I was confident that we would be able to get through soon and relayed this news to the group on my return. Roly, as someone with far more mountain experience than me, also had a look and delivered exactly the opposite news to me. I was quickly overruled (and berated). 15 minutes later the road was completely cleared.

Despite the road being cleared some slush remained and the descent through the tunnels was pretty sketchy. Not a particularly enjoyable experience.

The traverse across to Livigno involved a couple of smaller ascents and descents and I struck out on my own. Paddy was not to far behind and kept getting glimpses of me a I dropped down into the next valley.

The final descent into Bormio was fast, winding and exhilarating and was finished with an ITT along the valley floor and home

We found Beard at the hotel having had 4 hours of time to kill alone. I suspect he rather enjoyed it.

 

Day 5

The final day, the day of our departure and finally the big one, the Passo dello Stelvio.

The Stelvio is the highest paved road in Italy (the second highest in Europe) and is legendary for its switchbacks, carved into the mountainside, a feat of engineering.

Endless hairpins!

We would be climbing the less famous of the two sides (the eastern side is legendary for its switchbacks, 48 in total, but unfortunately was still shut), but the climb from Bormio offers a very similar experience.

Needing to get back to Bormio for lunch and then our transfer back to the hotel, the route was a simple out and back. The climb facing us was 22km at an average gradient of 7.1% - a long, challenging climb.

Legendary!

We all headed off in our own time and Paddy and I set out together at the head of the field. We headed up at a leisurely pace, chatting as we climbed. The climb from the Bormio side has almost as many switchbacks as the eastern side, but also has a number of tunnels to negotiate – thankfully these were well lit, is being as narrow as they were they would have been a little scary in the dark. Truly an impressive and scenic climb.

At 5km from the top there was a brief flat section, flat enough to slam it into the big ring (climbing the Stelvio, in the big ring!) and power along before the last 2km really pitched up to 12% and the banks of snow on the side of the roads got higher and higher. Cross-country skiers whizzed past at head height.

At 4km from the top we spotted Roly closing in on us as he powered up the mountain (we had initially thought it was Durden, but couldn’t figure out how he had caught us), and I decided to push on rather the face the ignominy of being caught… I went past a lot of Italians weaving across the road, eyes dead, as I climbed.

2758!

At the top, after a quick photo (and watching Roly, unsuccessfully, try to outsprint Paddy) we tucked into a couple of beers and some apple strudel before heading back down for another awesome descent into Bormio.

Mountains, sunshine, beer, pizza... perfect!

Once back in Bormio we all packed up and headed out for a final pizza on the main square. The sun was out and everyone was please with a great weekend’s riding. A great way to end the trip.

All that remained was the transfer back to the airport and several near death experiences!

Summary

What a great first experience of the Dolomites!

A weekend amongst awesome company and a great group of likeminded people. Some great climbing and no shortage of drama and experiences.

I can’t wait for the next TGS cycle holiday.

TGS take the Dolomites (Part I)

Having had 11 days off of the bike (I am not sure I can really count my rides in Yunnan, despite the thinness of the air) following my trip to Yunnan, my last weekend in Hong Kong and then relocating back to London I had managed to get out for a couple of decent rides back in the UK (the UK rides will surely get their own, combined, blog entry at some point) as preparation for one of the trips I was most excited about this year – the annual Team Gun Show cycling trip.

I had been away for two-and-a-half years and in that time the loose group of cyclists, triathletes and runners that made up TGS had grown in number, got more serious on the stash front and ramped up the number of triathlons and ironmen they had competed in. Most importantly though, they still didn’t take themselves too seriously. Taking yourself too seriously is an annoyingly common occurrence amongst cyclists/triathletes.

As was normally the case, Williams had organised the trip and, in addition to myself, the group would be made up of Beard, Roly, Paddy (Hoy), Durden (W), Durden (H), Emily, Jonny, Flinn (confusingly, also a Paddy, but Flinn for the purposes of this blog), Gibson and Chrisie.

We were heading to the Dolomites.

I was particularly excited about the choice to go to the Dolomites, as I had never ridden in Italy. I was similarly apprehensive though, as the Giro had failed to go through a number of the mountain passes we had planned to ride just two weeks earlier due to the mental snow and weather. A stage of the Giro was cancelled entirely, something pretty unheard of.

Day 1 

The trip started early, very early. An 8am flight from Gatwick to Verona meant a 5.30ish train with Roly from London Bridge. Despite living just 5 minutes walk from London Bridge station, Roly managed to miss the train we had agreed on and we ended up travelling to the airport separately.

After meeting everyone at the airport and checking in our bikes (with some repacking to ensure they all fell under the weight limit) the flight went off without incident and the bikes all arrived in Verona (something that hadn’t happened on the previous year’s trip I am told).

A three-hour transfer to Bormio, where we would be based for the weekend, awaited us. Fortunately the views out of the window got more spectacular as we headed deeper into the mountains, passing close by Lake Garda and along the shores of Lake Iseo, and whilst the time didn’t fly by it certainly wasn’t too painful.

On arrival at our hotel, Hotel La Genzianella, we checked in, the bikes were quickly built and a ‘short’/’easy’ out and back ride was muted before dinner. Williams thought a 30km round trip, including a small climb, up to Lake Cancano was ideal.

We quickly set out from Bormio as a group and within 6kms were at the base of the climb to Lake Cancano. The group, as is often the case on climbs, quickly fractured and I found myself heading upwards with Roly and Paddy. I don’t think any of us were expecting an 8km climb at an average of 7.5%. We certainly weren’t expecting to see a wall of 18 switchbacks carved into the side of the hill (mountain?) as we approached the halfway mark.

An unexpected wall of switchbacks....

Accepting that the ide was probably a little more than a little warm-up ride, we pushed on to the top just as the weather was getting cold. Turning the corner towards the lake we were hit by a wall of icy wind and decided to layer up and head back down instead. The switchbacks at speed were great fun and, of course, before long Roly had completely shot out of sight with seemingly little regard for his life. I then managed to lose a contact lens – the lack of a reliable depth of field made approaching hairpins at 60km a little hairy.

Chasing Paddy on the descent

We soon arrived back at the hotel, showered and all headed down to dinner in the hotel. A five course meal where it was possible to ask for seconds of every course. Even if it is was a steak. A perfect scenario for calorie hungry cyclists.

The hotel was in fact full of hungry cyclists, the majority of whom were taking themselves a little too seriously. There was coincidentally a big Grand Fondo starting in Bormio and finishing atop the nearby Stelvio on Sunday. Anyone would have thought some of the guys (almost everyone in the hotel was a guy), were two days out from the World Road Race Championships. We, however, got a number of our needed calories from some very nice bottles of red.

 

Day 2

Bormio is a brilliant base to cycle from in the Dolomites, from it you can do a number of challenging loops that each take in a number of the famous/iconic climbs of the region. For the first full day on the road it was planned that we would do one of these loops – a 114km circle, going over the brutally steep Mortirolo and the high pass of the Gavia with a cumulative total of over 4000m of climbing.

Given the relatively mixed ability of the group and a desire to ensure that we were all together for lunch, we split into two pelotons. The first peloton heading out an hour before the second. The plan being that the second peloton would catch the first somewhere on the first climb of the day, allowing everyone to have lunch together at the top.

I headed out in the second group with Roly, Paddy, Beard and Durden (W), the day starting with a 31km sweeping descent out of Bormio and down to Mazzo and the base of the Mortirolo. An awesome, wind-assisted, fast way to start the day. It was noted that cycling the other way up the long drag and into a headwind would have been far less fun…

Swoooooooossssshhhhhh......

The small town of Mazzo was the start of the Mortorilo and an hour and a quarter of pain. The name itself gave an indication of what we could expect, morte means death in Italian, and the climb is notoriously very difficult. Sections would pitch up to 22%!

A worrying amount of red!!

After a brief ‘comfort break’ at the base of the climb Beard, Durden and I set off in pursuit of Roly and Paddy who had a couple of minutes head-start. Roly was already pulling away and out of sight, doing a series of one-legged squats all the way up the mountain.

The Pantani memorial halfway up the Mortirolo.... some great and some tragic connections with this climb

It wasn’t long before we were passing the members of the first peloton, by now scattered across the mountain in varying states of pain. The road was horribly steep, barely allowing you to get out of your granny-gear, and very narrow. A total brute of a climb.

I left Beard at the Pantani memorial and caught Paddy not to long afterwards and we rode to the top together (passing Roly on the way down, having got to the top and deciding he’d like to do the final kilometre again – for fun!) – both very glad to finally see the top!

A sight for sore legs...

Once everyone had gathered at the top we layered up and prepared for the descent, unsure where the first opportunity to stop for lunch would be (t’internet had been pretty unhelpful/contradictory on this). Fortunately we had barely gone a kilometre before we passed a quiet café serving coke, espresso and pasta – the perfect cycling pit stop!

Fed and watered we continued the descent and began the false flat drag up to Ponte di Legno and the base of the Passo Gavia, the second highest paved road in Italy. Not a particularly memorable section of the route, being on quite busy roads, although there were some hairy moments with the traffic.

We started the Gavia climb and quickly passed a number of signs saying that the pass was closed. This is not too unusual in fairness and often passes that are closed to cars are perfectly passable on a bike – no one was particularly concerned at this stage. This would soon change.

Turns out this sign wasn't lying!!

Roly and I found ourselves at the front as we climbed, with Roly dangling out in front of my by no more than 15-20 metres for the majority of the 17km climb. After the Mortirolo, the promised 7.9% average gradient was supposed to be easy – it was anything but. The road continually pitched up to far higher gradients and as we neared the top (by this time Roly and I were riding together) the weather turned and we were faced with icy head-winds.

Deceptive

As we approached an avalanche tunnel around 4km from the front we plummeted into darkness with huge icicles dangling overhead and a icy patches hidden below us in the darkness. Roly turned to be and asked if I was ‘seeing black spots’, I assumed he meant black ice but in reality his vision was going as his early exertions on the Mortirolo caught up with him and he began to bonk…

We stopped at the end of the tunnel and put as many layers on as possible and then headed out again. We got 20 metres before we had to dismount and climb over some snow. Not discouraged we continued. We only got another 20 metres before it became very clear that the final 4km of the climb was completely covered by a snowdrift. The pass was very definitely closed!

Confirmation that the pass was closed!

At this stage Paddy caught Roly and I and we all decided to head back down, stopping to let the others know the road was impassable. We were initially met with smiles – the pain of climbing would stop – but soon the realisation that, rather than just having a fast descent into Bormio to complete the ride, the only way back to Bormio was now to retrace our route and cycle 80kms back to Bormio, over the Mortirolo again and up the 30km drag into a headwind that had been so much fun earlier dampened the mood slightly.

After some debate at the base of the descent we continued on to find a small town (and bar) to hole up in whilst we called a cab. Not an easy task when there are 12 riders and bikes. Eventually our hotel were convinced to send out two vans to collect us – a 4 hour round trip for the drivers – and we piled in for the long drive back to the hotel, arriving back just in time for a late dinner.

We all agreed that we would check whether the passes were open the next day before we headed out on a loop!

 

Days 3, 4 and 5 to follow......