Day 4: Massat to Prades

Mid way up the Col du Puymorens

From the minute we started in the fog-shrouded hills around Massat I knew it was going to be a long, tough day in the saddle. Derek, man of the I-can-go-anywhere-at-40kph mentality, joined us to see us off.

We started the 12km climb of the the Col de Port and set a steady pace up the mountain. Bob soon fell off the back and although we slowed up he couldn't muster the strength to catch us up. I hung on grimly and reached the summit stuck to Derek's back wheel in just 50 minutes. Bob arrived shortly after.

We said our goodbyes to Derek and set off down the descent. Everything hurt. There is nothing eventful or beautiful about the N20 road: it just serves to get you there. Where? God only knows and to be fair I don't care. With Bob struggling, I sat on the front shielding him from the wind and just keeping tempo, that was all I could do. I'm quite sure someone removed my saddle in the night as it felt like a razorblade.

Through Ax-les-Thermes, then the start of the Col de Puymorens introduces itself with a sharp ramp. It then sets out on a war of attrition, attacking your body and mind. At 25km with a gradient of about 6 per cent it's not hard but it goes on and on and on. It saps every ounce of strength and will power out of you. I hated it. The sun beat down and the temperature hit 35 degrees. It was unbearable. My sweat just evaporated as it appeared, salt crystals turned my gloves and shorts to sandpaper, even my black jersey had a crust of salt on it, making it unbearable to wear.

Eventually after an hour and 47 minutes we made it to the top. I felt broken. There was no beautiful cafe or stunning view, just a derelict lift station, a broken and decrepit building and two Dutch tourists. We couldn't leave fast enough.

The descent to Bourg-Madame was lovely though and all 27 km of it helped to restore my body, but only for a short while. About 20km from our last climb, I literally fell apart. I was thirsty and couldn't drink enough, my legs wouldn't go, my feet were burning. Bob started to shelter me from the relentless wind. I could go no further, we stopped at a shady picnic table and waited for Nick. I threw my shoes aside and lay on my back listening to my heart racing inside my head. I was in a bit of trouble. I needed to eat and drink but I felt sick. I forced down a chicken sandwich and a piece of apple pie, a litre of water and half a tomato.

Bob looked ready, so with a lot of whinging I got back on the bike. I felt dreadful, even more sick. We had 15km of climbing to do and Bob led valiantly into the wind as the road tilted up to the Col de Rigat, then after a short dip up to the Col De La Perche. I counted the white lines, then how many times my wheel turned over. My vision was blurry. I had to try and get more out of myself. I stood up on the pedals and sat down as quickly. I tried again. Push, push, push. I started to get on top of my wimpish state as we neared the top of the Col De La Perche.

From there it was 3km to Mont-Louis and I decided to help Bob by trying to get in front and shelter him as a payback for his earlier help. We worked together for the last bit of uphill and started the descent to Prades and our hotel.

It's 36km from Mont-Louis to Prades and 35 are downhill - what a reward for the pain and suffering. Charging down the road laid with new tarmac, through hairpin bends so beautifully cambered that I barely touched the brakes, and weaving through the cars at 70kph was totally exhilarating. The joy stopped twice for road works and was a little hindered by the headwind but it was a beautiful end to a hard, horrid day.

DAY 4 STATISTICS
Distance 167km

Ascent 2705m
Time 7:08
Calories 5987
Max speed 74.7kph

Avg speed 23.4kph

Avg cadence 82

Max cadence 155rpm