One tiny hill to go!

I'm lying on my back at the top of the Bales, and I can't tell you how relieved I felt. Despite facing one more Category 1 climb to reach the finish, I now knew that barring disaster I was going to finish L'Etape.

The weather seemed to be deteriorating on the top of the Col, and it was windy. I was relieved to be able to rehydrate and ate a fair few chunks of banana and fruity sweets. I was feeling shivery again , so I put on my lightweight jacket before swinging a tired leg over the crossbar for the final time ( I hoped).

The road leading away from the summit has been freshly laid for this year's Tour, and it was a perfect smooth surface. What wasn't so great was the lack of any sort of barrier or perimeter at the edge of the road which made the descent a bit hairy. An 'off' here could mean ... err death ! So, despite the fatigue I made sure I concentrated hard.. Luckily, the beautiful new road made it all a lot safer and I felt like an old pro as I swept through the corners as fast as I dared. Unfortunately, I sounded like a prat because my jacket was flapping ridiculously and the noise was horrific.

Talking of old pros, Greg Lemond was wearing the No'1 bib, and my mate Steve overtook him going up the Bales. He said, 'Hi' and Greg grunted something about, 'Can't do this anymore'. He put quite a few minutes over him and didn't expect to see him again. Steve was halfway down the descent when who should come past him at incredible speed?

Anyway, I had one final climb, the Col de Peyresourde, a 7 to 8 mile climb at 8% gradient. It started in a small town with a big wide road, and just seemed to go up in a constant unpleasant manner. I suspect this would be a reasonably pleasant ascent if it was the first Col of the day, but by now I had been on the road for over 8 hours. It was still very hot and windless.
There ain't much more to say about it except it was another hour and a half of teeth-gritting pedal grinding hellish effort. Everyone was suffering up here but we all knew there would be no quitting. It's one of the Tour's most popular climbs and you can tell why as you wobble your way up it.... beautiful scenery stretches away on your right hand side. I guess it took about an hour and a quarter to get near the top where the road took a right hand sweep. High above I could hear the crowds cheering and hollering, and I could see 4 great big switchback corners. I enjoyed every one of them and felt some energy flowing back into my legs. I tried to accelerate and started to savour the moment. I can't describe the feeling of triumph as I rolled over the top... it was pure joy. All that lay before me now was a short descent before Loudenvielle.

All the agony of the previous hours was forgotten. I started thinking about having a beer, a pot of tea, beans on toast, lying down etc. Annoyingly, there was a short but sharp final climb to negotiate before the final straight. One poor chap was sitting by the road vomiting violently.

And finally, I entered the wide funneled area leading to the finish line. Hundreds of spectators lined the barriers waiting for their loved ones, cheering and clapping. I have to admit, I did the ultimate daft thing. I sat up in the saddle, I pulled up my zip, and then held my arms out in the famous Tour-winner's pose. I'm glad to say I didn't fall off, and I got a huge cheer.

9 hours 58 minutes of ride time. 32 minutes was spent stopped for food, fluids and rest.
My position in the race accounting for the time spent to cross the line at the beginning of the day was 2147 th.
I believe about 8000 started (but I believe numbers were down as the severity of the route put off many people).
2600 people failed to finish.

And that was it.
A great way to spend a day.
It was tough.