With an equal mixture of fear and excitement I’ve accepted the challenge of being the guest writer for today’s Jack Pack blog. As an Englishman (Bloody Pom) it’s fair to say its been a rocky road out there.
The day started with the traditional briefing at one of the hotels before we all rolled out into another perfect morning in central France. I was surprised to make it to the start as i took the liberty of stealing a jersey from Alan, he was probably smooth talking somewhere over a beer at the time to be fair. The jersey thing was meant to play like this: I ‘borrow’ a sacred jersey (with Richard’s help), I turn up in said jersey at the briefing and pretend all is normal and the team are disgusted. Bec abuses me and possibly rips the jersey off my back and I have fun at everybody’s expense. What actually happened was the jersey was Alan’s, it was long sleeved with a thermal lining and was about two sizes too small. I couldn’t fit my athletic frame into it and certainly couldn’t breathe when it was zipped up. Yet again the joke was on me.
I abandoned my ‘family’ as per usual protocol and we rolled out. We did actually see a few cars leaving Aubusson a novelty in this part of France before things settled down into a steady day of rural climbing. The first groans of the day were from King Karl when the team informed him of the terrain profile, for once though it was him groaning away not the bottom bracket. The usual format unfolded in the winding lanes. Alan coming through like a freight train eager to impress the young bucks in the group with his prowess and dreaming of an early bath and another schooner opportunity. Fast Rob followed on. I’m really not sure what that guy has for breakfast but I need some. Next up on the team is Andrew H, well he’s a bit of a schemer just like Alan but not quite as street smart. Our first view of him was a flash of black lycra heading in the wrong direction yet again.
The climbing continued towards first tea stop through beautiful gladed lanes, plenty of gravel patches though to contend with. It has become customary in the Jack Pack to stop off for an early coffee and some obligatory banter, sometimes between themselves and usually against me. I think they have stopped bitching about the lack of Flat Whites now though. I was surrounded by flies just as Rebecca turned up. This was fairly typical as it gave her plenty of ammunition to abuse me. I don’t really speak to her much in the morning just in case she’s had a bad start to the day, i’m pretty sure that was King Karl’s advice. I unzipped the jersey to allow me to take on some jelly babies and cake and shortly after my wife arrived and asked me if I’d busted the zip.
After a much needed coffee and some posing from Alan we rolled on. With spirits high we aimed for the town of Giat although we have learnt that most towns here shut down for much of the day. I’m sure this was the time Andrew C entered the fray. They call him ‘Biggles’ so we can only assume he’d finished doing his pre flight checks as he raced up being careful to use his Strava Watt thingy’s sparingly.
More rolling countryside, stunning views and the odd tractor led us happily to a lunch stop after 29 miles. This will confuse the Jack Pack as they only hunt in Kilometres. We were treated to another large helping of French food, this time buffet style. That’s a good thing as Alan hates to waste drinking time. A typical French toilet experience ensued with the unisex toilet having a door lock only on the outside. This put Jim off slightly to be fair. You haven’t met him yet he’s the diesel of the group the dependable sort of a guy who gets on with France without fussing.
The afternoon continued winding steadily uphill through small villages and past some stunning scenery enroute to another brew stop. It is a holiday after all. Then it was time for the Jack Pack to face their first true mountain climb enroute to our destination at Le Mont Dore. This was the moment Jill had been waiting for as the World’s lightest bike was wound up to speeds normally only appropriate for space travel, what a shame ‘Biggles’ couldn’t get a Watt meter on that. The climb was very hot and the first tough test (particularly with Alan’s thermal jersey on) but we were rewarded with some stunning views at the summit. This is where I finally caught up with Richard, what a guy what a legend. He’s the guy that holds this team together and given what I’ve written that’s amazing.
I’m writing this from the Grand Hotel in Le Mont Dore with more exceptional views of France. I’m sure I can hear Alan in the pub though ‘recovering’.
Tomorrow we ride again. I hope the Jack Pack speak to me. They really are a great team.
Cycle Safely. The Pom.