We do these things not because they are easy . . .

Today is the Les Cingles du Ventoux. This is the stupid, crazy, club that has only one entry requirement. Climb the Ventoux three times in one day, one time each from the three starting towns (see yesterday's post on routes). The plan: Bedoin (the hardest first), Malaucene, then Sault (the easy one, which didn't feel like it today). Joining me was Neil from our tour, who got talked into this over the course of the week. Neil climbs like a mountain goat. I didn't see him much today, or at least I saw him ride away from me after a few kilometers at the start of each ascent. Also joining us was "The Mistrals". As I came to learn today, this is an incredibly violent, dry, cold wind that from time to time blows through France. My computer showed wind gusts in the 50 mph range during today's ride. Nice. Good thing we are doing something this hard today, because, what fun would it be without being literally blown off the bike. Beck's and Mark provided pro-support all day. Super-troopers, they were, with water, sugar, carbs, and encouragement all along the route.

(Filling up water in Bedoin, about to start out)

(Fools!)

Oh, by the way, you also need to watch out for wild boar . . . . seriously. Wild boar.

OK, the top is open, no turning back now . . . 

How hard is the climb from Bedoin? Tongue out, standing up, breathing like a cow during the slaughter hard.

Neil channels the Energizer Bunny. Nothing stops this guy from going up a hill. No food, no water, no photos, just get out of the way.

The support crew navigator on the look out for his riders . . .

Little fruit candies never tasted better, nor will they ever again taste this good. One of the many things that kept me going over a long, long day.

The last time coming up from Reynard, fighting wind, pain, and steep, just to say that we did it.

It may look like I'm going fast here, jersey flying out behind me like a cape. That is actually a 35 mph headwind coming straight into my face while I'm pushing up an 11% grade . . . after climbing this mountain two times already in the day. I'm leaning way over the front wheel because the wind has already blown the front of the bike off the ground on this stretch of road. It wouldn't be the Ventoux any other way.

Neil rolling across the line for the last time. An official Cingles.

The final stamp on my card to prove I've been up and down all three times. Officially a Cingles.

The support crew of all support crews on top of the world!

Goodbye Alps, Hello Provence

Today was officially moving out of the Alps and into Provence as the official last day of the tour, and the chance for the sane among us to ride Mt. Ventoux once. I say once because there is a second post on its way. As with the day before, we moved through quintessential French countryside. Lavender fields (freshly picked, so no photos of purple fields . . . but the smell. Indescribable), sunflowers that are just starting to wilt, rocky fields and old stone homes. Amazing to be amongst it all, and seeing things that you only imagine could be real.

(And the grapes are getting ripe as well)

Leaving the Alps behind us . . .

The climbs today, aside from the Ventoux, were all relatively gentle. I suspect the tour had pity on us, and assumed correctly that our legs were all tired at this point. We did go over the Col de L'Homme Mort . . . that's the Col of the Dead Man for those translating at home. The photo below is from the first climb, the Col de Saint Jean. Totally not as cool of a name. L'Homme Mort is unsigned, probably because people wouldn't be able to help themselves from bringing that thing home as a little treasure to impress their friends . . . . assuming they were teenagers who liked, you know, stealing road signs.

(Talking about how cool we are . . . )

Of course, the real work of the day was at the end, with a climb up the Ventoux. Starting in the town of Sault. Ventoux is one of those legendary climbs, and legendary for a reason. As we climb L'Homme Mort, we catch our first glimpse. That tower on the top, almost 2000 meters up will become a treasured sight tomorrow.

(We wanted to get the Ventoux behind us. Oh well, a good shot of me, Dave, and Simon)

The Ventoux has three main routes up. One leaving from the town of Sault, one from the town of Bedoin, and one from the town of Malaucene. The road up from Sault is considered the "easy" way. For a while, that's true. Once you hit Chalet Reynard (6k from the summit), all bets are off.

(You think you are close to the top when you see the tower. Not so much)

Quick history lesson for those who don't know. Mt. Ventoux (the windy mountain) is an oddity, sticking up out of the Provence country side without any other surrounding mountains. The top of the mountain was logged many, many years ago to build ships for the French Navy. From the summit down the mountain side for about 6-7 kilometers is nearly void of vegetation, it is all small white rock, which reflects heat and leaves absolutely no shelter from the wind; a cliche at this point, but it's like the moon. It is also incredibly steep in sections, particularly as you near the summit. So, if your legs are still on after the first 20 kilometers give or take depending on the road you take up, you get to fight the intense heat coming down from the sun and up from the rock, the wind that absolutely screams and swirls around at series speed, plus 10-12 percent steep hills. The Ventoux has played major roles in Le Tour, and claimed the life of Tom Simpson. So, a legend.

(To say the Tour has been here is, of course, a bit of the obvious)

(Want some candy to help you up?)

(No, no, no . . . just let me hang on a bit)

The two photos above give you an idea of the landscape. The one below gives you an idea of the kind of climb it is.

(Giving it full gas across the lunar summit)

(Tough)

(Did that just happen?)

At the summit, there is the obligatory souvenir shop, a candy stand, and exactly what you would expect and want, a stand of dried meat. What this guy is doing contemplating a nice salami after the work it takes to get up here, I don't know.

(Fruit candies)

(Crazy French man)

A couple summit photos . . . a must.

Becky jumped in on the fun for the descent of the Ventoux and the 25k or so roll to the Hotel. I show photos at the top only, because she went down so fast . . . . only stopping to pay respects to Tommy . . . that we couldn't get photos. Seriously, like a bat out of hell. I was impressed and having a heart attack the whole time shepherding her down.

France est tres belle

The last two days were long stretches. Yesterday with some massive climbs and today with a lot of rolling country roads. Yesterday in the cold and rain. Today in the sun and hot. Both days left me breathless at almost every corner with how beautiful the country is. And, as we move out of the Alps and down into Provence, how beautiful the country is in much different ways.

(About to roll out of Valloire for the Galibier and then I'Izoard)

Becky (Beaux Reves) Barron joined the group for the start of the Galibier, making a hard and valiant effort up the first steep section of road out of the ski town of Valloire. Becky made it to the bar/cafe in the bottom left of the photo. The picture really doesn't do this place justice. It was breathtaking in its starkness and complete newness. Nothing I've seen in the States is like this.

(Becky's pick up spot)

Of course, since she was in the van at this point, Becky didn't get the "pleasure" of the rest of the road. For the unintiated, this climb is labeled "HC" by the Tour de France, meaning it is so difficult, they don't try to rate it. It's just Hors Category, or Beyond Classification.

("Pleasure")

(One of our guides on the way up. Not sure how he manages to smile while doing this. I was in pure agony.)

Being on top of the Galibier feels a little like being on top of the world. You feel just about at the highest point imaginable, eye level with every mountain as far as you can see.

(Dave - one of the tour riders, not the tour guide David . . . see post on Class . . . - and I rode up Galibier together, and later the I'Izoard. There is a bond now. Me and Dave, "Come on son, let's do this climb together". Dave is from london.)

(Me and Dave. What are we talking about here . . . gee, maybe the weather or somthin')

(Becky wants another shot at it . . . maybe next year)

(The road down the other side. This was about 30 kilometers of 40 mile an hour, hold onto the bars for dear life descending. Outstanding.)

(Before going down the other side, a quick stop for espresso)

(OK, now the Galibier is over, which way to the I'Izoard . . . .)

(This way)

The landscape began to change as we rolled to the I'Izoard. The mountains were still steep and hard, but the jagged rocks began to soften just a bit, and trees and fields began to appear.

(Well maybe not completely away from the jagged rocks)

(A quick stop to fill up water bottles, and wait for Dave to catch on for the final push)

(Dave putting in a big effort up the mountain)

(Me and that Dave guy again)

Becky wanted to ride in the last 35 kilometers or so, so we bid farewell to the group, put the rain gear on and rolled on home. We got just a bit lost, and completely soaked, but made it home just in time for dinner.

(Looking out over the valley where we were headed. Where the land seems to disappear is where we are headed).

Today, we began to inch into Provence on our way to Mount Ventoux. The landscape was decidedly different today, with apple and pear orchards lining the roads as we circled a beautiful lake.

After doing some insanely steep, but mercifully short climbs around and out of the lake side, we stopped for a picnic lunch by a river.

(Our hotel tonight is just behind that mountain in the distance)

Becky was ready for another shot at the bike, this time 50 kilometers, so as the boys took a little break, we pushed on.

(Boys breaking)

(Us pushing)

(On the way through a small town, a sign reminds drivers to think of cyclists. Got to love it.)

(Happy at kilometer 5. Kilometer 50 isn't posted)

Some lovely, lovely land rolled by on the way home today.