cycling Col de Peyresourde

The Col de Peyresourde starts in the spa town of Bagnere-de-Luchon. I arrive in Luchon on a sunny afternoon and go to the first bike shop I can find. It looks more like a cyclo cemetery with bike parts, tubes and tyres scattered around the entrance. There are numerous second-hand bikes for sale. They all look rather creaky and sad. The owner comes out from his workshop and nods hello. I ask to hire a �velo pour le montagnes.� My grammar is like my cycling, shaky at the best of the times. The owner looks around the mess of his workshop and walks across to a black carbon fibre model that looks sturdy yet... well-used. I ask him the price. Usually, daily rental cost is between 30 and 45 Euros. He says, '15 Euros.' I nod blankly, trying to hide my excitement. �Avez vous pump, repair kit,� I say, mixing bad french with lazy English. He shrugs, but I think it means yes.

I return an hour later, dressed in serious lycra, and he takes my credit card and 15 Euros. With some sluggishness, he lowers my seat, pumps the tyres and fits a repair kit to below my seat. I ask to fill my water bottle. He says he has no water and I should go to the cemetery around the corner. From one cemetery to the other, I think. 

I set off and it�s immediately apparent that the seat position is too far back. I can barely reach the handlebars. I return to my new friend and he reluctantly moves the seat forward and gives it one desolutory slap to straighten it. What can I expect for 15 Euros. 

I have christened the bike, Murray. The brand name is Massi, reputedly from Italy, by way of the USA. So if Murray is confused about his heritage, giving him a sturdy, sensible moniker can only help. Murray and I take the first roundabout and stop at the cemetery. I fill my water bottle and gaze respectfully at the rows of graves.

Peyresourde is used frequently by the Tour de France. Last count, 55 times, starting in 1910. In fact, it was ridden twice in 2012 and will, hopefully, be traversed again in 2013. I say �hopefully� because last week, Luchon was inundated in a terrible flood caused by excessive rain and the accompanying snow melt. There are photos of the water, 60cm deep on the road, swirling past the hotel where we are staying. Parts of the town are still covered in layers of mud, turning to dust in the sun.

The first few kilometres of the climb are around 6-8% gradient, with a forest and rushing stream as a relaxing vista. A few weeks ago I climbed the Passo Dello Stelvio in Italy on my heavy hybrid bike and it nearly killed me. Murray, in contrast, feels like a racehorse, although he has a nasty tendency to change gear when he shouldn�t. My knees are not enjoying his tricky surprises, so I attempt something I hate doing. I adjust the gears. And voila, it�s fixed. For once, I am not a klutz. Perhaps my friend in the bike cemetery would be proud of me?

Murray responds and we cruise into the first village. Like many Pyrenean hamlets, it�s a collection of dour grey stone houses that look like the residents have permanently bunkered down for winter. But, today, finally, summer appears to have arrived. It�s twenty-six degrees and climbing much faster than we cyclists. The first church is a beauty, nestled into the hill, with green meadows rising steeply behind it and a cemetery of statues and stone near the entrance.

There are a few cyclists out this afternoon, and surprisingly, Murray seems to be passing them. The are all wearing Carcassonne jerseys, so I assume they�re used to the flatlands of the Canal du Midi. Two have stopped ahead and are taking turns to dunk their heads under the fountain. I stop and, with a touch more decorum, fill my water bottle. I love a mountain that allows you to climb it and supplies you with clean cold drinking water. 

After ten kilometres the road opens out with glorious views across the valley to a village halfway up a steep slope. Beside the road, hang-gliders prepare to take off, but unfortunately, I can�t stop to watch. Murray has rhythm and he won�t be denied. 

And then, to add to the lovely ambience of a stunning mountain, the cowbells begin ringing. A herd below me casually graze on the thick green grass and play music. Off to my right are snow-capped mountains, but I�m surprised by how little snow there is on the surrounding peaks. Sadly, much of it ended as floodwater to ravage the villages below. 

I�m on the final three kilometres now and the hairpins are coming steep and sharp. I love how the french use the word �lacet� to describe hairpin bends. 
Shoelaces. 
There is a group of cyclists above me, shouting encouragement down to their comrades from Carcassonne. A cyclist just ahead of me is blowing hard, I can hear him from five metres back. I pass and wish him �bonne courage.� He puffs in answer. Two more lacets and the summit arrives much earlier than I expected. My Garmin says I still have a kilometre to climb, but I�m not arguing with the summit sign that I dutifully stand in front of while a fellow cyclist snaps my photo. We both head to the cafe, he to join his mates, me to order a soft drink. I�d love a cider, but the thought of descending on the unpredictable Murray stays my hand. I sit in the sun and contemplate 50 centime crepes instead. Inexpensive tasty crepes eaten in the most beautiful scenery. A just reward.

Col de Peyresourde is a hors category climb of 15 kilometres, with an average gradient of 6.6%, maximum 10%. The altitude is 1589 metres, with an altitude gain of 944 metres when climbed from Luchon. The col links the Aure and Louron valleys and the summit is the department border betweenHaute-Garonne and Haute-Pyrenees.

This is an edited extract from my latest ebook, titled 'bordeaux and bicycles' about my cycling adventures in France. It's available for US$2.99 here if you live in the USA, here for the UK and here for Australia.