Epilogue and pictures

I'm properly back in the UK now, getting used to normal existence again, and its time I finished off my blog and gave blog-fans and sponsors some good photos to look at. These should now all be on my flickr website; feel free to browse after reading this.

I would also like to thank those of you who have sponsored me cycling across France to go to the Alps. The total mileage was approximately 670 miles. The longest day was 110 miles. I also averaged just over a 100 miles a day for 6 days continusously through from London to Annecy, before I had a rest day and a shorter final day to Chamonix. That was probably the hardest piece of endurance I have ever done. However knowing that I wanted to complete it and raise some money for the Princes Trust was a big motivator for me. Thanks again for all your support and donations.

I have put considerable time and energy into writing this blog and sorting out the photos, in addition to the exertions of actually cycling across France unaided. For any of you who have enjoyed reading the blog and who enjoy the photos, but have not found the time or effort to make a donation, now is the time to click on the link to the right and show your support. To use Mrs Doyle's memorable words: go on, go on, go on!!

For those who know little of the work of the Princes Trust, here is an example of the sort of help they can give to young people struggling to find a way to get their lives on track:

http://www.princes-trust.org.uk/case_study_2009-10/warren_christian.aspx

Apart from the Get Into programmes, the Trust run various other programmes to help young people in need:

Team: a 12-week personal development course, offering work experience, qualifications, practical skills, community projects and a residential week.

Enterprise: provides financial assistance and support to young unemployed people trying to start their own business.

Community Cash awards: up to £3,000 for young people to design and set up projects on a voluntary basis that will benefit their local community.

The Princes Trust offers real support and assistance to young people who maybe haven't had the good fortune of many of us early on in life, and who just need a bit of help to enable them to take some positive steps for themselves. I hope those who are able to can contribute something to this excellent charity.


Alas, that is the end of my little trip across France and up some mountains. Life returns to the normality of a house with a patio garden and the company of friends and family, which is very satisfying in itself, albeit with my muscles slightly more in shape than they were, and some new skills and interests acquired. But inside me, there is also the satisfaction that a great adventure has been had, a once in a lifetime perhaps, which will be a fond memory for many years. I'm sure that when chance permits, another adventure may be waiting round the corner somewhere, but until such time I bid you farewell.

James

chere couloir

5:10am Friday morning: Mark and I were walking out of the Cosmiques hut at 3,500m altitude, in crampons, tied onto the rope for glacier crossing. I had lots of clothes on (I had no desire for hot-aches today) and the helmet torch was on full beam. I also felt a strong love for my fleece trousers.

The early start was partly driven by safety, to have a clear run at the Chere couloir route before the larger group attempting that route for the day got on it. Mark and I both had travel plans for the afternoon, out of Chamonix, so that was an added incentive to get cracking early and see how much we could achieve in the improving weather. The asssured gloats of the other group the previous evening of undoubtedly being first on the route in the morning were enough to motivate us to be fully focussed and well ahead in the battle of throwing down a morning breakfast and gearing up for the elements. I also later found out that the guide for the other group was Mark's assessor in the mountain guide training scheme, so there was plenty of pride on his side in beating them to the route. And up it, more importantly.

No fear on the latter: Mark set us off at a fearsome pace, remeniscent of the first climb of the week, which was an easier route on a different side of the same mountain. We crossed the glacier col in good time, and when we stopped to look back, after a fair climb up the gradually increasing angle of snow slope, we saw the lights of the group behind us plodding down from the hut. We had a good 20 minutes on them.

Soon we were into steeper snow and ice, first at a healthy pace, moving together and using the tips of the ice axes like daggers. Then, as it got steeper, we switched to taking turns to belay each other on pitched climbs as per normal rock climbing, which takes longer. We were on our first proper steep pitch of ice climbing before it was light, which turns out to be a great way to get over any fears you might have. If you can't see how far it is down or up, you just concentrate on what you are doing and what you can see with your headtorch. Thud, thud: ice axes in, quick tug to check the hold is good, then stepping up with the feet, kicking firm to make sure the front points of the crampons are biting. Thud, thud, step, step, step, step: easy!

First light of the pre-dawn, and I was climbing on vertical ice; trying to maintain good rhythm and balance and not get too burn't out in the arms or calves; trying to remain cool when taking out ice screws (they are supposed to save you if you fall, but I haven't tried falling onto one so far!), whilst hanging off an ice axe; trying to pace myself so I'm not exhausted after 10 moves at altitude. Actually, I felt good, and I really enjoyed the thud of the axe biting into the ice, and keeping good balance on my way up. The reward for this extreme exertion at such an early hour of the day, apart from the satisfaction of just getting up it, was a beautiful sunrise hitting the top of the Aiguille du Midi. Not long to savour it at this point though: photo, banana and water whilst belaying Mark, then take out the ice screw and go...

This was a more sustained difficult route than any I had done before (alpine grade D for difficile, as opposed to previous one's being AD; assez difficile), and the near-vertical ice went on for some time. After that, we neared the top of the couloir, and the terrain was less straightforward, with a fresh coating of powder snow covering the rocky outcrops. This proved more difficult than just ice axes and crampons on the steeper pure ice.

Mark pushed us hard, and with fast early progress made and little time wasted (i.e. no breaks to speak of), we were able to go for the top, rather than abseiling down the couloir as the other group did. The steep, deep fresh snow made it a bit of a slog to the top of the peak, coming out near the summit of Mont Blanc du Tacul. Phew, yet again I was breathing like a steam engine with the pace and continual effort of pushing hard at that altitude, but yet again, turning downhill did wonders for allowing the lungs to recover.

We came down the same serac and crevasse - laden snow field of Mont Blanc du Tacul as Monday. After fresh snow-falls in the previous couple of days, and a warm, sunny day beckoning, the risk of avalanche was high, and increasing as the sun rose during the morning. No time for sunbathing yet. Once past the crevasses and seracs, we were able to practise a classic mountaineering technique on the last part of the downhill, known as taking huge lunging steps down the soft powder snow. Happy days. Very happy days indeed actually, as it turned out the party who set off to the same couloir as us in the morning were just arriving back at the col at the same time as us, but had only climbed half the route that we had done. That was very satisfying not so much to beat the other team, but to know that we were a strong party capable of tackling hard routes quickly and effectively if needed.

Of course I knew from Monday's exertions that we still had to force ourselves back up to the Aiguille du Midi cable car station, 300m up the arete; plodding through the snow, with the last section on the steep knife-edge. After pushing really hard for the earlier peak, and 8 hours into a day of hard exercise, this always hurts, and I was soon sucking in all the air I could, and just concentrating on keeping on plodding at a steady pace. Whilst I probably had a grimace showing at the time, there was also a bit of a satisfied smile underneath, as I was nearing completion of a great day's adventure in the mountains, and a suitable climax to a couple of weeks of mountaineering.

Thanks to Mark for an amazing week's alpine climbing. 1st August 2012 then for the Matterhorn?!

Icy couloirs, icy hands

I arrived back in the UK over the weekend, my mountain climbing adventures over for the season. Before I get too bogged down in the humdrum of daily life, I owe all you avid readers (and random passers by) another blog or two, to bring the alpine adventure series to a close.

As you probably gathered from my previous entry, activities were slightly disrupted last week due to snow storms passing through the Alps. Hence I had the fortunate introduction to such moderate and relaxing alternative sports as fell running, which I took a certain liking to.

My plan had been to make an attempt on the Matterhorn during the week, but such a serious and dangerous undertaking as the Matterhorn is only possible to normal folk who aren't exceptional climbers or guides during reasonably fair conditions. With the lower part of the route up the mountain being on often loose and delicate boulders, trying to climb when the ground is covered by snow that may be icy in the morning and slippery and wet in the afternoon, is a much more serious proposition than normal. Last time my guide did it in winter conditions, his was the only party on the mountain and it took him 2 days, and that's someone who climbs like a snow-leopard (much faster than a mountain goat, Mike!). So with snow falling during the week, and autumnal weather setting in, the Matterhorn was not going to happen in the week.

It is obviously a shame I couldn't climb the mountain I had set out to climb when I started my trip, but I have climbed some technically harder routes than that during the two weeks, and learn't lots of skills, and done far more than just plod up steep hills following a guide without thinking. I have certainly learnt to respect the mountains and maximise safety and enjoyment by paying close attention to the conditions and choosing routes that are suitable and minimise the risks on that particular day.

Mark did an excellent job of making the most of less than ideal weather last week, and after the fell running and a bit of scrambling on Tues and Weds, we finished off the week with some great mountaineering of the steep, icy and hard variety.

Thursday was not a big day out in terms of route, and the weather was still proving a little troutblesome, so we were keen to do a sheltered icy couloir route within easy striking distance of the Cosmiques but. The hot-aches experience halfway up though, turned it into more of and adventure than I had anticipated.

Often north face couloirs are in the shade most of the day, and with your hands touching cold ice and very cold powder snow, and getting showered with snow and ice as you battle your way up with ice axes etc, its amazing how cold this can make your hands. Even worse, when you start climbing, you have your hands mostly above your head, so there is not much blood going to them. A top tip: always lower your hands and shake out when you get a rest opportunity!). So abseiling in from the sunny Cosmique Arete, where we had climbed the previous week, I felt warm and toasty, but 15 minutes later, climbing up the first pitch of the couloir, my hands were starting to get a bit numb. If I was thinking clearer, I would have stopped and got my thick down gloves out of my rucksack, but this is easier said than done when you are on steep snow and ice 2,800 slippery metres above Chamonix, and you have to think about how solid is the footing that the two front points of your crampons are digging into. Maybe you can't even see how good the ice or rock is, because it is covered by snow, so you are going by feel sometimes. I decided to push on to the next belay ledge, and sort it out there. Except my hands didn't really agree with this decision, and by the time I had reached the ledge (a foot-width of scraped-away ice), they were in shut-down mode. Fortunately Mark knew the feelings that come when the blood rushes back to your hands: light-headed, dizziness, tiredness, burning pain in the hands of course, to be hot-aches. Something I had never heard of, but which I have no desire to encounter again. Mark got me secure and sat down on this extensive ledge, otherwise I felt close to fainting. A nice bit of chocolate and some water and a rest though, and I quickly perked up to near-normal levels, and was once again hacking my way up the ice and snow and delicating edging the crampons and ice axes over rocky sections, up to the top of the arete, and back to warmth; the Cosmiques hut.

That was enough adventure for one day, and I made a special effort to eat as much of my extra food portions as possible in the evening, partly for post-drama comforting, and because I just love the french saucisson, but mostly to lighten the load for the big route lined up for Friday.

cosmic

Just a quick interim msg from the mountains to the blogosphere. Matterhorn is off for this trip after snow in the alps. From tues we have been working round the weather, including a fell run with 740m of ascent, phew, still suffering a bit from that! some scrambling in the aig. rouges yesterday and a couloir climb today. Note to self, always put the big down gloves on before the hot aches from cold hands starts. Oh yes, and we broke trail on the knife edge midi arete in fresh snow - full on! Ahh the cosmiques hut is cosy after all that!

Mont Blanc du Tacul

Today I was back on the mountain, after a relaxing weekend in Chamonix. The weather forecast is not good for this week, with the expectation that rain and snow will move in across the Alps this evening and tomorrow. So today was a one day alpine climb near Chamonix.

The weather doesn't bode particularly well for my Matterhorn ambitions, but I have hired the guide for most of the week, and we are trying to make the most of it, so if the Matterhorn gets covered in snow or the storms don't lift, we may have to make do with other plans for the rest of my time here. With things moving on at home, now that I have a new flat to live in (I am very excited about having a wardrobe with all my clothes in it, quite a change from nomadic transcience!) and new uncle duties to perform (big congratulations to Mike and Kate), I can't hang around in the mountains forever. Between this week and last, I am certainly getting the most out of it though.

Today was my first with the new guide, Mark, and to be sure to beat the incoming weather, instead of doing a lesser route in the mountains, we went for the option of just going faster on a similar length route to last week! This was fine from the top of the Aiguille du Midi cable car down to the glacier col below, along the precipitous arete that is a snowy knife-edge about a foot and a half wide (with Chamonix 2,800m below if you fall off to the left!). However, once down and across the col, Mark was almost racing up the slope in front of me, and we were first up climbing the steep ice of the contamine-grisolle route of the north face of Mont Blanc du Tacul. This was a true cardio work out, even compared to running, and it seems like all the good mountain guides are also mountain runners or adventure racers, which certainly adds the stamina needed for mountaineering.

So yes, I was panting along up behind on the first part, which was steep ice, catching my breath and resting burning calf muscles every time there was a step dug out in the otherwise smooth ice slope. After a 100-150 metres ascent or so, daggering the blades of our ice axes into the 60 degree slope, we moved onto mixed ground. Basically, rocks, surrounded or covered by ice. We charged on through this, crampons scratching on the rocks when not biting into the ice, and came out before I had caught my breath at the top of the rock triangle that goes most of the way up Mont Blanc du Tacul. A quick drink, a bite of chocolate (actually a whole bar)and a banana, and we were underway again; a final plod in the snow to the top of Mont Blanc du Tacul, 4,248m. Another 4,000m peak climbed: this time well ahead of the guidebook time!

Strangely, as soon as you turn round and start heading down the hill, all the lung bursting feelings dissappear, and I was able to savour the wonderful views out down the glacier over the Chamonix valley and the other peaks in the range, which, any higher than where we went, were buried in sinister looking clouds. Guides 1, weather 0! We followed the easier route in the snow down the side of the mountain back to the col, following the at-times deep trough cut by those slogging up Mont Blanc on a daily basis. No prizes for guessing that Mont Blanc du Tacul is quite near Mont Blanc and is on one of the routes up the mountain. Back to the col, and a large packet of crisps which had found their way into my rucksack helped me back up the arete to the cable car station: always a nasty slog at the end of a day on the mountain. Four and a half hours after we left, we were back in the hands of modern machinery, whisking us away from nature's ravages, back down to the valley below. All in a morning's work...

dent du geant

Today is a chill out day in sunny Chamonix, after a week spent up at high altitude, in the beautiful yet surreal world of alpinism.

On Tuesday, our small team of Al the guide, Simon and myself took the cable car from the valley floor up to the Aiguilles du Midi at 3,800m, then another one across some glaciers and between some of the famous peaks of the area to the Italian side of the Mont Blanc Massif. After a good hike across a glacier, we did a scramble along a rocky ridge, before lowering ourselves into a crevasse in the glacier and climbing out again. Certainly as close as I ever hope to get to falling into one. Tuesday night was spent in the Torino Hut, at over 3,000m, and despite a beer to wash down dinner, it proved hard to sleep well at that altitude. Wednesday began with a typical alpine start for a bigger route, as we were aiming to complete a 4,000m classic apline climb, the Dent du Geant, that day. My early morning mood has not historically been the best, but somehow we were in crampons and roped up, walking across the glacier with headtorches, in good spirits, by 5.15am.

By the time first light came, we had plodded up the snow slope, and being up close to the base of the peak, couldn't really see the full extent of the rocky spire we were to climb. First up was a steep scramble over loose rock, scree and snow. Part of the reason for an early start was to get up and down before this big messy pile became loose and dangerous in the afternoon. One thing I have definitely learnt this week is to have respect for the mountains and the dangers they bring, and to plan cautiously accordingly. Arriving at the base of the spire, it became immediately apparent that yes, we were going to climb this steep rocky spire several hundred metres high, at 4,000m altitude, in heavy mountain boots, and then do 3 long abseils back down to the base. Each time it got narrower, you thought you were at the top, but Al kept saying, nope, a few more rock climbing pitches to go! Despite some fairly windy moments, and false summits, the top was actually remarkably calm, and the abseils back down smooth and enjoyable. I had a real sense of achievement, and it was an excellent warm-up for what I hope next week brings.

No rest for the wicked though, as Al was keeping us on a tight rein, literally and metaphorically. After getting down the messy loose rock slope as quickly as possible and minimising danger, especially from any careless groups above us (strange how its often other people that are a bigger risk than anything else on the mountain!), we had a quick bite to eat and then a slog back across the snow covered glacier to the cable car back to Chamonix. None of us were keen to miss the last one down, but Al had other things on his mind too, as he was off for an evening training run!!

Ahh, just when you think you have reached a good level of fitness and skill, you meet someone like that who is on a completely different level, and pleasantly modest with it. Enormous respect to Al for winning the OMM mountain marathon amongst other things and setting a new route up 6,100m Jirishanca in Peru. Little did I know that when I ordered my excellent lightweight rucksack online a year or two ago, it was designed with technical input from Al and named after the route he first climbed a few years before. Thanks Al, great course, and a pleasure to learn from someone at the top of his game.

My multimedia exploits and seamless technology transfer streaming efforts (or something like that) have been less productive than my mountaineering this week. I still haven't found an internet cafe which can properly deal with my camera memory card, and my video exploits have fared even worse. Day 2 of alpinism, and after special preparation of my helmet cam, to get it off my bike and secured firmly to my helmet, disaster struck. I was worried that the camera mount might come off the helmet, so I put lots of the special velcro-type tape on the helmet several days before and let the glue dry thoroughly, as per instructions. Then I put my headtorch on the helmet and threaded the mount through the strap as well. However the camera itself seemed to sit very firmly in the mount. Or at least I thought. Halfway along a rocky ridge on the second day of alpinism; I was getting a bit flustered with all the ropework and squeezing between rocky spires etc. Somehow I pulled the rope or something over my head, then heard the worrying sound of an object being dropped, and I saw something small and black bouncing off rocks down a long, long rocky slope towards the Aosta valley. A bit of duck tape to hold it on would have made all the difference, but too late; my video exploits came to a frustrating and irretrievable end on the Aiguilles d'Entreves.

RIP tachyon xc; we were just beginning to get on so well. I hope someday, someone scrambling in the messy scree and boulders several hundred metres below this ridge on the Italian side, with a long drop of several thousand metres below them all the way down to the Aosta valley, puts their hand on something unusual and unexpected in a dark hollow; something metal, forged long ago. Or perhaps it will find them...

Still, I will get the photos out there at some point apart from the couple I hope to upload with this blog, and meanwhile don't forget that the experience is more important than the image, so I hope you are enjoying the read. Enough blogging, I need to contemplate and prepare for bigger adventures in the week to come.

'The Road goes ever on and on
Down from the door where it began,
Now far ahead the Road has gone,
And I must follow if I can,
Pursuing it with eager feet,
Until it joins some larger way
Where many path and errands meet.
And whither then? I cannot say.'

JRR Tolkein (Bilbo Baggins)

A bit of alpinism

I have settled well into the chalet life just outside Chamonix that I am staying in this week, and if I get back off the mountains early, I can whizz into town in 5 mins on my bike like a local, which is great.

Mostly the course I am on is out in the big mountains though, with little time for the expensive hobby of pottering around the shops. Yesterday was a regular rock climbing day, with some nice climbing in the sun in the Aosta valley on the Italian side of Mont Blanc, which was a great warm-up for things to come.

Today was a lot more adventurous, and we took the Grand Montets lift high up above the Chamonix valley at about 3,500m, where we did some ice climbing and moving around on steep snow and rocky ridges with ice axes, crampons and all the mountaineering gear on. A great day out in the mountains. My free sunglasses that I picked up on the top of a mountain in Snowdonia seemed to work fine, so that was a great result too.

I have been enjoying some of the classic culinary delights of the french Alps as well, of course. Delicious french saucisson and local cheese with baguette featured for lunch today, and is definitely on the cards again in the next few days, as all the calories are certainly being burnt. The Savoie region follows very closely to the Swiss line on nutrition, in the fundamental belief that you cannot have too much cheese. So as well as cheese for lunch, there are plenty of cheese dishes for dinner to keep your levels topped up to maximum. The other day in the chalet we had tartiflette for dinner, one of my favourites from student days in Grenoble and ski trips, and I am very excited about having a fondue at some point in the next week or so.

Tomorrow we are headed up nearer Mont Blanc, to stay overnight in the Torino hut probably, and do some bigger alpine routes with the guide. The weather seems to be looking good for the next few days, and I have my fingers crossed that conditions remain good for an attempt on the Matterhorn next week.

Chamonix

Hello all

After yesterday's rest, today it was a pleasure to get back on the bike that has treated me so well across France, (no punctures or mechanical problems in 670 miles) and give it a Sunday run to stretch its legs on a fine treat of a classic alpine col, as the last part of the journey to Chamonix. It was a bit shorter today, only 60-odd miles, so I threw in the Col de la Columbiere for good measure, rather than the easier route. This a regular feature col of the tour de France, and made for a very scenic route to Chamonix, across the Aravis range.

A nice cool morning and fresh legs and I found I whizzed up the thing in a couple of hours to an altitude of 1,613m. All dreams of breaking my PB descent maximum speed were thwarted by the precipitous descent on a very narrow and windy road down the other side, to the valley below Chamonix. Or was it the very tasty tarte aux myrtilles from the cafe on the col that slowed me down?! Max speed only 35mph today. Maybe I will get another col opportunity before I leave the Alps, it would be nice to try one unladen by my bumbag gear and go at full race speed.

The cycle part of my adventure is over for now, completed with a suitably large ice cream in Chamonix. The bike is safely locked up, and I picked up my bag full of mountain gear, ready for the first day's climbing tomorrow.

Stats will follow in due course.

Annecy

Hello all

Well its been a long, long road to the Alps, and harder than I expected, but I am nearly at the end of the cycle part of this adventure. I have pushed things pretty hard over the last few days, when the body was saying no, please stop, and the legs were feeling a bit wiped out even at the start of some days. I think it will take a day or two more, a couple of beers, and a sports massage to get back to normal. Today is a well earned rest day therefore, in the beautiful town of Annecy, on the edge of the Alps.

Yesterday was the last long stage; a relatively short one compared to previous days at 91 miles (although that is still a long way!), but a hilly one, crossing over the Jura hills that run just to the west of the Alps. In planning the route, I seemed to miss the fact that there was a 750m climb over a col on the quiet road I took from Macon! However it was a pleasant ride in the cool morning sun, after some heavy early showers, and riding up through the lush hillsides, there was the sight and smell of dew rising off the damp grass, with some jagged limestone cliffs jutting out of the forests in the distance. I also had the pleasure of the descent following the climb, so I got some good video footage of that. Max speed 41.1 mph! That is my target to beat tomorrow if I do a bit of an alpine col on the way to Chamonix. This time I will check a map more carefully first to see exactly what I am taking on!!

Its interesting how the climate and scenery changes as you move along, and I seemed to have the fortune of following a break in the weather most of the way across France, and steadily increasing temperatures. The flip flops have proved ideal, Mary. Thursday was a scorcher, and I was quite exposed to the sun in the increasingly rural countryside, as I headed away from at the times touristy, at times industrial, Loire valley. I didn't realise the french had tucked away some the their nuclear power stations in the sleepy upper reaches of the Loire valley, adding a certain je ne sais quoi to a fine bottle of Saumur further downstream. That brings a new meaning to the old expression; tout ce qui brille n'est pas d'or. Are we ready for such cosy proximity to these factories of fear in the UK, in the name of saving the planet from global warming?

Anyway, I followed the canal in the valley as far as I could, grateful to the engineers of the Canal du Centre who had the good sense to put a road alongside the canal for most of its length. From there, it was a push (mentally I mean: all miles have been done in the standard cycling technique, with no artificial aides or stimulants, I hasten to add; except lots of drinks and energy snacks) over some quiet hills in the baking sun to Macon. I nearly ran out of food and drink on the way though, and was fading badly on the hills to Cluny, as being properly rural France, all the shops were closed for siesta / long lunch. Intermarche in Cluny is definitely one of my favourite places in France so far. The water was especially fresh, and the refrigeration superb!

Doing 110 miles in a day, you have to start early and keep going come what may, otherwise you just dont get to the end. Interestingly 110 miles is just 2 miles short of the ironman cycle distance, which seeing as I was carrying all my (minimal) gear with me for hotels, was pretty good going, although I stopped for lunch and several breaks, and I was in no state to do a marathon at the end of it. You do learn that these things are as much about hydration and nutrition as anything else, and bananas are possibly the best food ever invented, with loads of energy and being easy to eat 'en velo'.

More updates and photos to come, but keep donating; don't be shy. I'm off to enjoy relaxing by lake Annecy and have some lunch.

ca roule

400 miles in 4 days. Now ive done the flat part of day 5, the tough one, over the hills to macon. More chit chat soon when i can rest in annecy but i need to focus on eating and getting over those hills. as the local chap just pointed out ive paid for the enormous sandwich so i may as well eat it!

et enfin, du vin

I couldnt resist a bit of red wine on the banks of the loire tonight.  To translate baron philippe de rothschild- wine is born, then it lives, but it never dies, because in man it lives on. More on food and drink soon. Cheers!

Orleans

I arrived in Orleans this afternoon, after a smooth 75 mile ride from Senonches via Chartres, so today is all about cathedrals, those of Chartres and Orleans being particularly fine. I will say a quick thanks to the lord for flatter terrain and good weather today as well.

No thanks to the lord for French road signage though. I have realised that after probably a full year spent in France during my life, I still have no idea what those diamond yellow signs mean. Any ideas, let me know! That is not really a bother though: what is tougher is in-town navigation. You feel like you are playing chess with the planners who designed the system: you know that once you get four or five miles out of town, they start putting the road numbers and destinations on the smaller roads (A or B equivalents to those in England). But up until then, there are numerous one-way streets, signs saying Toutes Directions or Autres Directions (never quite figured out the point of those either), or signs for the next tiny neighbourhood, not marked on any meaningful map. However there are always plentiful signs to the big autoroutes etc, so if you fancy cycling down the autoroute, you can find that no problem. My theory is this strategy is to get non-locals out of town fast, and keep the excellent back roads for themselves; and determined cyclists.

OK I nust dash now, I still have 20 miles to do today, and leaving Orleans could take a while!

bienvenue en france

Good day of cycling here in france: an early and wet start from caen and hillier than expected, but it cleared up nicely and flattened out towards the end! My first 100 mile ride too. Tonight im in the small town of senonches, but tomorrow is tues, so not part of the french weekend like mon is, and i will pass through chartres and orleans, so there is a fighting chance of a proper internet cafe somewhere, for a more substantial update.  

The Scenic Delights of Portsmouth Harbour

I am currently waiting for my ferry to Caen, in a wet Portsmouth harbour. Despite the title, scenic delights in Portsmouth are somewhat few and far between, except for a few grandiose pieces of naval heritage tucked away on the sea front. Maybe the bleak townscape is designed to keep the french out, as I notice Plymouth and Dover have similar styling, if I'm not mistaken.

However the first day's ride was very good: all went smoothly, and I was fortunate to have the company of Adam, Ted and Sophie for the first day. A good start was made, with a classy break taken for elevenses at a fine establishment in Woking (OK, it was a choice between Wetherspoons or KFC, and I managed to resist my old penchant for the colonel's finest). A proper lunch stop followed in Midhurst, which was a welcome break before the scenic route (and steep hill) over the South Downs, to reach the coast.

There was some epic riding by all: congratulations to Sophie for not falling over at lights in the new clip-in shoes, although there was an early wobble in Vauxhall. Adam and Ted both breached the 90 mile mark for the first time, and got to experience the above mentioned delights of Portsmouth, which were worth holding out for! For me it was a last portion of proper chips before I head over the channel. I will miss the tea and bacon sarnie's too, and also the company of friends and family, but I am quite excited by the adventures to come, so I am looking forward to the ferry journey and my first day of cycling in France tomorrow.

A la prochaine mes amis

PS photos etc will follow when I find a proper internet cafe in a day or two

The sea beckons

Well tomorrow is the big day. This will be the first day of a long week in the saddle, as I start my cycle adventure from London to Chamonix at 9am in the morning. First stop is Portsmouth, for the overnight ferry to Caen. Weather looks wet to start with, but hopefully improving; ahh, the sooner I can get to France and find some sunshine, the better.

I am looking forward to getting on the road. I have had a great summer away from office desks, out in the fresh air getting fitter, enjoying various outdoor pursuits, and spending time with friends and family, but also sweating it up and down hills in places like Snowdonia, often in the seasonal August rain. I have also spent ages organising everything, which seems a little ironic, as all I am taking across France with me is a small bum bag.

On my trial run last week, it clocked in at exactly 90 miles from Kennington to Portsmouth harbour, but this time I hope to avoid the scenic detour through Havant industrial estates.

James

Introduction

Walking out on a good job with nothing better lined up is perhaps a foolhardy undertaking, and certainly not something to do too often or without due consideration, especially when corporate belts are being tightened around the world.

To soften the blow of such foolhardiness, I am taking some time off to enjoy the outdoors and catch up with friends and family in the UK. A summer holiday, of sorts, of the kind of duration that kids take for granted and working adults wish to god they could get themselves. Nevertheless, I am hoping to make a bit more out of my few months off than just camping and hanging out in the sun (/rain), before the CV gets brushed up. This seems like an ideal opportunity to grab the bull by the horns and undertake a suitably challenging adventure, before settling comfortably into middle age, safe in the knowledge I have done something properly scary and difficult in the great outdoors.

My current plan is to cycle from London to Chamonix, leaving in a few weeks in late August, and then, after a training course near Mont Blanc, to climb the Matterhorn in Switzerland with a guide.

Some thanks for the idea is due to the legendary Swedish climber Goran Kropp, who achieved far more than my planned modest jaunt across Europe. His escapade was to cycle solo from Sweden to Everest base-camp, then solo climbed Everest, without all the usual Sherpa crowd to carry all the gear, then cycled home again. A true legend! My adventure is significantly more modest in scope and not entirely solo, but nevertheless, hopefully with a noble aim. For those who don’t know the Alps very well, the Matterhorn is the picture on many Swiss products, including, as those of you with a sweet tooth will know: Toblerone chocolate. The mountain is something of a rite of passage for would-be mountaineers, being sufficiently difficult that it cannot just be plodded up by the inexperienced, but not so technical as to be beyond the average punter with a reasonable level of outdoors experience: albeit with some hard training and an appropriate level of respect for the mountain. I.e. someone like me. Its also one of the most beautiful mountains in the world, and I have long thought of climbing it one day.



I hope to raise some money for charity in doing this challenge, and who knows, if donations are sufficient, perhaps I can be persuaded to cycle back to the UK as well, on the return journey. Currently, unlike my swedish hero, I am planning to catch the train home after the climb.

The satisfaction of arriving in the Alps under my own steam, after a week on the road, is something I am looking forward to as much as the mountaineering, and on this tour de france there will be no doping scandals. I’m sure some local cheese and wine will definitely feature though, and help smooth the cogs, so to speak.

I hope to provide some entertainment during this mini-adventure in the form of blog updates, photos and the occasional video to you all, which is free for the taking. For those who are able though, I hope to persuade you to part with some of your hard-earned cash for some worthwhile charitable causes, for which more details will follow in due course.

The bike beckons, have a good weekend.

James

“It is not the mountain that we conquer but ourselves”
Edmund Hillary