The most beautifu cycling experience ever

Friday morning in Massat dawned misty and a bit chilly. We were reasonably high up already but were about to get even higher with the Col de Port (1245m) rising straight up from the town (with the intermediate col Caugnous (940m)). I opted for a huge mug of hot chocolate and some plain bread for breakfast, hoping this would help with the early morning queasiness. Which it did which was nice.

Not only that but bunny and I were first away, the town was still in its slumbers and we started what is the most gorgeous climb (no that is quite definitely not an oxymoron) in the world. It makes my spine tingle to think about it now, nearly a week later. In the 12km of the climb I saw a maximum of three cars, and the gentle average 5% gradient, never got above 6%, with a lot in the 3% range. The road swung back and forth through wooded glades, with the mist falling away, collected in the hollow below us. Bunny went up the road, and I revelled in the solitude, the occasional tinkling of cow bells only serving to reinforce the beauty of this magical place.

Occasionally a break in the trees would offer glimpses of far-away jagged peaks of rock, some still bearing the remnants of snow and ice, or perhaps the first falls of an early onset of Autumn. Do you believe in God? It's a thought that goes through my head at times like these, such peace and grace couldn't just have happened by accident could it?

I was also on form, partly as a result of the setting, partly, and increasingly towards the top, propelled onwards by another call of nature as the huge bowl of hot chocolate worked its magic. Alas the climb was over all too soon, and because some of the others had passed me on the way up, there was reception party admiring the stunning views at the top.

If there is a cycling heaven, for me it will be to do that climb, at that time of day, with that weather, that stillness and beauty, for ever and ever, Amen.

Another descent beckoned, all the way to the outskirts of Tarascon, before an up and down bit of main road along a the Ariege valley floor to Ax-les-Thermes. It was now mid-morning and starting to get seriously hot, so we all stripped off any heavy stuff and loaded up with food and drink in preparation for the longest climb of the whole trip.

If the Tourmalet is a hammer on your head, then the col du Puymorens (1920m) is the steady drip, drip drip of water falling on your head. For over two hours and 27km. For the most part it has a shallow 3% gradient, and while this sometimes rises to 4-6%, it's mostly a case of plugging away at a steady speed. The scenery is still pretty wild and rugged, but the road is quite busy with the cars and lorries taking the road on their way to Andorra. Near the top they turn off in a different direction which made for a quieter time of it over the last few kms.

We all got out our ham baguettes (no really, that's not a euphemism) and had an impromtu picnic at the top, a bit blowy but again, good views. We also cheered the riders on their touring bikes, all laden with trailers or panniers, who had made it up from the other direction. We'd seen a few of those on the trip, hats off to them, I can't imagine doing the same.

I made the mistake of too many layers on the way down. Despite the long fall down to Bourg Madame, it was a baking hot day, so I decided to press on and hope to meet the support van soon. Mistake. There were three further cols to be climbed (Col de Llous-1345m, Col du Riget-1488m, Col de la Perche -1570m) with a corresponding dip between each. It was like cycling over a hot parched plain, and by now I had my own private sail, consisting of all my layers i had taken off. Which would have been great in a tailwind but unfortunately it was from in front that the wind was blowing.

Eventually got to the top of the last col and from there it was a breeze, over 25km down to Prades and our last hotel stop of the trip. Bunny and I had spotted the MacDonalds over the road, and much to Skip's text-delivered disgust, we couldn't resist and went to fill our faces.

I was a bit faster today at 12.6mph, over the 106 miles of another very long day. we made sure we got an early night, because for the first time on the trip, tomorrow there was time pressure. To qualify for our official Raid Pyrenean medal, we had to get our last carnet stamp in Cerebere by 1PM, and it was 90km away. No pressure then.