Today we did the Col de la Madeleine, a recent Tour de France hors categorie (beyond categorisation) climb, at a distance of 26 kms from base to summit it’s been described as beautiful, but heartbreaking.

We started the ride straight from the chalet and as the temperature had dropped over night it was time to get out the winter gear, over shoes, knee warmers and wind jackets. A slight fuzzy head from the beers and wine enjoyed the night before added to the feeling of trepidation I had for the day ahead.

We did a steady pace for the 30 kms to get to the start of the days climb, with the legs feeling ok from the previous days rest. Once at the base of the Madeleine we stopped for a few mins to get rid of the cold weather gear and grabbed a hand full of peanuts for a bit of an energy boost.

The climb started off at a steady gradient as the road worked its way up through the trees, keeping the temperature at a nice level in the shade. After about 10 km of climbing when the road levelled out passing through a small village, Ade, the support driver and Alpcycles owner was waiting with an outstretched arm to hand out a banana Al and I as we rolled by, TdF style, also shouting out his usual words of encouragement, “come on boys, feel the pain!” … we would do soon enough.

After a couple of kms at a fairly flat gradient it was time for things to start getting a bit tougher. At 9 kms from the summit the gradient kicked up and for the rest of the climb we faced an average of 8-9% gradient, some sections being reported by the Garmin at 13%. Needless to say we made the most of the Kodak stops – the views down the valley and up to the snow dusted summit were awesome, the pictures unable to capture it all. Reading the road graffiti of the names of the TdF riders I noticed “Hawks”, close enough we thought for another photo stop, I’m sure Al will get that one framed, especially after noticing “Cadel” just up from his own surname. “Two climbing greats side by side” I heard him mutter.

Onwards and upwards we continued passing ski chair lifts and bell clanging cattle, ticking off the kilometre way markers mocking us with the gradient average for each coming section. At 3 km to go the temperature was getting pretty chilly now as the wind kicked up bit, blowing the clouds down the valley we’d come up through. At 1 km to go, we could see the top of the climb and the support van waiting for us. “Come on let’s big ring this last bit” Al suggested (I don’t know where he he gets them from), so we did, powering to the summit line like a pair of middle aged idiots!

A quick stop to get some layers of clothing back on and another photo opportunity then we were heading straight back down the road we’d been climbing for the last 2 hours. It was too cold to hang around looking at the nearby snow covered mountain sides and piste bashing vehicles, we had a 26 km descent to be getting on with.

The ride back down was yet another gob smacking experience, literally breathe taking thanks to the wind chill. At the 3 km from the summit way marker I did a double take as I saw my first live marmot, a large beaver like creature sat at the side of the road; no doubt impressed with speed and agility Al and I were descending at! It took 35 minutes non stop to reach the bottom of the climb, plenty of time to get into the rhythm of sweeping corners, it almost felt like snowboarding, shifting the weight from side to side gliding around the corners. Stylish Rapha wind jackets, check, stunning scenery, check, black and white film lense, check, handsome road cyclists with powerful sun kissed smooth legs, well 3 out of 4 isn’t bad …

“Let them go, Tommy. They’re nobodies. They’ll die on the hill.” ~ American Flyers