Anthony Seipolt's account of his Marmotte 2008 ride
Anthony Seipolt's account of his Marmotte 2008 ride
That was the day that was.
It is now the morning after, but there is no pill that you can take. I am sitting on my balcony overlooking the Oisan valley with sheer cliff faces on my right and Alpe d'Huez on my left. It is a cool crisp morning and they are predicting rain for this afternoon although the sun is just touching the higher peaks.
Yesterday, close to 8,000 riders set themselves the Marmotte challenge. Our group with the exception of Emma (Colson – MTB champion and all round excellent person) were in the last wave to depart. Emma having placed in her last few Marmotte starts was off in the first wave (7am). Our wave departed at 7:50am, although it was closer to 8:00 before we crossed the official start line and heard the beep that indicated our anklet transponders had registered.
The first 10km was a gentle descent along the road to Grenoble before turning off to Allemende and the first climb of the day; Col du Glandon.
Glandon is a relatively, and by relative I am referring to other climb options in this area, gentle climb of approximately 26km. The gradient is generally around 6-7% and there are a couple of small descents to avoid prior avalanches. Not too dissimilar to Falls Creek as a climb.
The top of Glandon is one of the most picturesque that I have seen. It is well above the treeline, although grasses are still aplenty. This means that the sheep and cattle are grazed here over the summer months. I saw a sheppard and his sheep dog tending one flock and the ring of cowbells was common.
As the vista opened up you were able to see the enormity of the ride. I could see the road snaking up and into the distance for many kilometres and it was a constant stream of riders, 3 to 4 abreast.There were the occasional cars that were brave or foolhardy enough to venture into this domain.
The riders generally kept to the right, but it would appear that the Dutch like to own the centre of the road, so passing them required an undertake or a cross onto the wrong side of the road.
As we neared the top I could see the first signs of fatigue amongst the riders. Some were pulling over for a rest, others weaving side to side and one poor fellow was drooling uncontrollably with that fixated stare of exhaustion.
I was still feeling good here as I had kept my HR at or around 160 (sub-lactic). Also the gradient allowed for a reasonable cadence.
The top of Glandon was a shit-fight. At two hours ride time, most riders needed water. It was like fighting for beach space with a German tour bus. This took some time, but was finally accomplished.
The last few kilometres into Glandon were some of the most beautiful I have ever ridden. The steep grasslands, snow above and below remaining in the gullies. And the winding snake of riders climbing into the distance.
As you crest the Col du Glandon the majestic ice dome of Mont Blanc comes into view, framed between the col walls. Awesome.
The 30km Glandon descent was very scenic, but required concentration. The road surface was ok, but some corners were pretty sharp hairpins, particularly at the top. As you neared the bottom of the descent, you re-entered civilisation and were hurtling though narrow town streets at around 60kph. The speed humps in one of the towns caught us all by surprise and there were drink bottles strewn everywhere that had bounced out.
I have to say that I love French drivers. They don’t try to overtake unless they can do so with good clearance between you and them. I don’t think that I had an overtaking car come closer than about 2-3 foot during the whole event. On the other hand, they assume that if you can see them (i.e. they are coming at you) that you will get out of their way. On the major climbs, the overtaking traffic would sit in the left hand lane continually until another car would come around the corner (slowly as they were anticipating this). Then there would be a moment or two as they snuck around each, all the time keeping clear of the riders!
The next section was probably the least enjoyable in terms of scenery and traffic. We sat on a highway for about 15kms, gradually climbing alongside a glacial river (it was tinged with that milky blue color). It was pretty warm here with the temp registering as 34degC (although I am told this may not have been accurate).
After this we turned back to more rural roads and began the introductory climb to the major climb of the day. Col du Telegraphe is only 12.5km long with an average gradient of 6%. It felt to me like a slightly steeper version of King Lake. I was still feeling strong by this stage, but wary of over-committing. I settled into a solid rhythm and tapped out the climb. I was constantly passing cyclists and this aided in contributing to my feeling that all was going well. The occasional rider would also pass me, but not many.
One lovely thing about the construction of French roads is that they mostly flatten out their hairpins. Instead of having a super steep inside to them, they are almost flat and provide an opportunity to break up your rhythm. I increased a couple of gears for these corners and used them to generate some inertia into the next section. This saw me slingshot past a large number of riders who would treat the flatter corners as a chance to take the pressure off the legs.
I didn’t stop at the top of Telegraphe as I knew that there was a feed station in the next valley in a town called Valliore. Another short descent and I grabbed a Red Bull and banana as a change from my energy bars and goos. Topped up the water and was off.
Galibier is a piece of work. It is a 17km monster that climbs from about 1420m to 2560m. The first section of about 10km is relatively gentle at about 5.5% as you ascend into the alpine grasslands.
I developed a bit of gastro at this point and had to take a 15min break while queuing for a loo. Once that was clear, I was good to commence the last 7km.
This is a truly difficult and inspiring section. You leave the grasslands and enter a landscape of rock and shale. Old snows lie alongside the road and the drop offs are scary. Most riders elected to ride the centre of the road if they weren’t already doing so. The gradient just keeps increasing and worst of all... you have vision of the next 2-3 kms of road above you to inspire/threaten you.
The snaking road above plays with your mind. The gradient keeps increasing right to the top, although the average gradient is only around 8% it really felt much much worse. I had run out of gears by now and was at a very low cadence. This wasn’t helping my knees, but I felt better than many of the riders around me looked.
The top of Galibier was barren and cold. Time enough to stuff the pockets with whatever I could lay my hands on, fill my water bottles, zip up my jersey and put on my gillet.
I was now at the 115km mark of the 175km journey and I had done more climbing than an Alpine Classic. I tried not to think of this as it was really playing with my mind. I was feeling ok as my ass was now numb and the tinges of cramp had not got any worse.
Next came the longest descent of my life. 50Kms of speed and terror.
The top of the descent is a combination of switchbacks and steep drops. No guard rails and high crosswinds didn’t detract from the sense of danger. It was also hard to retain concentration after 7 and a half hours of riding. I kept my speed slow (sub 65kph) on this section and kept right. Riders were flying past me at huge speeds, but I was not confident in the road surface and the ability of other riders. I saw two riders contact at speed, but fortunately both stayed upright.
As we got lower we joined a motorway and the road flattened to the point where you didn’t have to break continually. Then came the tunnels.
There were about 6 tunnels as part of this descent. They are dark, have poor surfaces, are narrow and wet (not to mention you are already exhausted and that riding on the right had side of the road is not a habit). We had been forewarned of these, but it didn’t really help. I had my glasses in my teeth to help with vision, but you could really only see the oncoming lights of the traffic. At one stage I hit an unseen pothole and was bounced out of my seat.
Packs were forming and splintering all the way along this descent. One good thing was that our speed was sufficient that not many cars were overtaking us.
The last 10km of the descent into Bourg d'Oisan was superb. The road surface was fresh; probably laid in anticipation of the Tour de France stage that will be coming through here in a week or so. The road was not too steep with sweeping corners that you could just lean into and feel the gentle exertion of centrifugal force.
However, that ended all too soon and the last 12.5km of the day arrived. This was the last climb of the day, the famous Alpe d'Huez. 1030m in ascent over 12.5km – an average gradient of something over 8%.
I decided that the only thing to do was to give it everything I had. Unfortunately, everything I had was not a lot. The day had heated up and the climb was hot. The kilometres ground by very slowly. It took ages until I saw hairpin 21 – only 20 to go!
Riders became walkers or simply sat down by the side of the road. I saw a number of people being picked up with just a few kilometres to go. The guard rail was almost full with a seated individual every 3-5m. The corners were busier than most Melbourne pubs on a Friday night and the occasional alpine spring was packed 3 deep as riders jostled for the cool air and to soak their appendages.
I didn’t think of stopping. Not from a lack of exhaustion, but a concern about the ability to restart.
Finally the village appeared and I soon passed the “faux finish” - the finish line that the local taverns have created to attract riders for coffee and shopping. The road flattens out here and with people lining the route I stepped up the pace and finished the last 1km off with everything I had left.
Timing check complete at something around 9hour and 20 mins elapsed time.
After a pasta and coke and a few shared stories with fellow riders I headed back down Alpe d'Huez and back to my accommodation in Bourg d'Oisan. This was an eventful ride in itself as riders and cars coming up the hill were straddling both lanes. I overtook 20 or so cars, but was pretty conservative by local standards.
That is the story. Many were faster, many slower, but completion was the goal. I later worked out that I had passed about 2,500 riders on the day, so not a bad run.
The scenery and support from thousands of people lining the road will stick foremost in my memory. Like childbirth, the memory of the pain will fade and I am sure that I will look back with fond memories.
I know that Emma clocked 5th fastest woman and another rider in our accommodation came in at 5:57! That equates to an average speed up the hills of over 20kph. Godlike in my perceptions.
A recovery ride today and then some new challenges await!
Au reviour – Anthony Seipolt
