Life In The Saddle

After yesterday's brutal finish, today was set to be an easier day. A day for heading down and out of the mountains; as I made my way to the Corbieres, and my rest day base with my good friends, the Farmers. Last night's camp turned out to be only a kilometre or so from the top of the Col Portet d'Aspet; so despite a chilly start, it was just a short climb before I ticked off the first of my mountains for the day. Then the descending began. It seemed to be downhill for hours, thankfully. By 11am, I had racked up 75km already, and made it to Foix. I stopped for coffee and pastries; planning the route out towards Carcassonne. I didn't quite do my original route over the last few days; due partly to the weather, but also a pair of faltering legs. As a result, today wasn't quite the route it was going to be, either; I am effectively missing off the last two cols of the tour. It would however still be a tough 200km, on tired legs. Foix to Lavelanet. Lavelanet t...

Day 5 of my 'Coasts and Cols' tour was always going to be a tough one; coming after a huge day of climbing the day before. With the Col du Tourmalet now carried over to this day too, I was just going to have to see how much I could manage... It started early, and chilly. I had a good night's sleep in my little campsite in Luz; although I woke up to a pile of still slightly damp kit, after my enthusiastic washing in the campsite showers the evening before. No matter; I pulled on my down jacket, and the one pair of dry bibs that I had, and began my ascent of the Tourmalet. I did this climb back in 2011, so I knew what I was letting myself in for: 18 kilometres of varying gradients, and a good chill at the top (there was snow on the peaks). I began clicking through the K's with relative ease though. All the time the sun was threatening to break from the cloud cover, but the temperature was also rapidly falling with the altitude gain. I shouldn't have worried abou...

Don't underestimate the mountains; don't play with giants; they're far bigger and more powerful than you'll ever be. That was a lesson I was reminded of after yesterday's "big freeze"; it was also a recurring lesson today, but one that I took heed of... The first major Col of the day was the Col de Marie Blanque. It is a beautiful climb - a small deserted road, with a stream running alongside. The rain continued this morning though, and the heavens really opened on the top half of this first climb. By the time I had reached the top; pushing my lowest gear on the 13 percent sections; I was cold, sweating and damp. I descended quickly into the valley, trying not to go too fast, to avoid the wind chill. Before long, I was weaving onto the second col to conquer - the Col d'Aubisque. I know this climb well, having done it back in 2011; but the weather conditions and bike weight seemed a lot worse this time around. I clicked into a good gear though, ...

Last night's sleep was slightly hampered by the chorus of cow bells in the field next to me. I managed to get a few hours though, and rose with the sunrise, to get started on the first proper mileage day of the 'Coasts and Cols' tour. Before descending down from my mountain top camp, I put on almost every layer of riding kit I brought with me; it turns out northern Spain in September isn't so balmy as I remember! From the descent of that first col, I was quickly into the ascent of the next. I'm getting used to how the weight and load on the Kona handles, on the ups and downs. Sleepy Spanish villages flew by. I was pleased with my route planning, which took me down almost deserted roads, bar the occasional tractor, moped and other cyclist. By lunchtime, and with 110km on the clock, I was ready for a break. I wolfed down oatcakes, peanut butter, jam and malt loaf. I probably ate too much; as straight out from the small town I had stopped in, I began the bigge...

I'm laying in my little tent, somewhere up in the hills above Santander; listening to the cow bells just outside. When the ferry eventually arrived in port - delayed by a Storm Force 9 that we battled through right across the Bay of Biscay, I rolled out into the grey, but the thankfully dry, evening. Out through the city, and into the countryside; I soon left the industrial port in my wake. The darkness closed in fast, and when I came to my main climb of the first day's route, I still had 10km to go, and my pace had slowed to 10kph. It was properly dark, and now raining a bit. I pushed on; with the idea that if I found a camping spot, I would stop. I eventually passed over the top of the pass, yet to find a suitable spot; but with the full intended distance for the day now done. Then I  found my field of cows to camp next to. First day done. One coast in the background, one col crossed.

I believe that within everyone, there is a desire to explore. A desire to push the boundaries of what you know, and where you've been. A desire to take the road less travelled. The 'Coasts and Cols' Tour was born out of my innate desire to explore; to see new places, and meet new people - all from the saddle of a bicycle. What was once a pipeline idea, is now taking shape: with dates, details and routes. In this post, I thought I would provide a bit of an update... The 'Coasts and Cols' Climbs The elevation profile of the 'Coasts and Cols' Tour looks rather worryingly like the heart rate graph of someone that is going into cardiac trauma; before flat-lining. It correlates to my upward and undulating route, from the moment I leave the north coast of Spain; this is then followed by the brutal and numerous cols of the Pyrenees; before rolling back up through France, on the flat plains of the west coast. The spikes and troughs in the route p...

In front of me lies a map. The spiderweb of roads, signals opportunity. The swathes of green, suggest beautiful places to explore. The shadowy contours of mountain ranges; they, call out to me. I have started plotting a route. In fact, this route has been plotted for many years. It is a touring trip idea that enters my mind whenever I see Grand Tour coverage from the Pyrenees; or photos of France's beautifully barren west coast; or images of secluded roads twisting through the Bretagne region. I have been plotting the route of my 'Coasts and Cols Tour', for some time.   The idea is relatively simple. No planes, no cars, no trains; just a boat and a bike. I'll board the ferry in Portsmouth, and cross to Santander on the north coast of Spain. Rolling off the boat, I'll head south east; over the Sierra de Urbasa, and towards the Pyrenees. On reaching the iconic mountain range, which separates France from Spain, I'll traverse south east. As I go, I'll ti...