But first ... how does it feel to finish the Etape? I think this photo of Dave, just after finishing, says it all!

Chris wrote:

Having entered/completed my first Etape, I cannot wait to find details of next year's event. Aren't we all such suckers for punishment!

But what with the atmosphere, scenery and 'holy ground' of the route, not to mention the TDF itself, the pain and suffering is soon forgotten. Having lived all my life in South Africa and only recently relocated to live in UK, it was all something of a fairytale which I never thought would get much closer to than the annual worshipping in front of the TV in July!

Deke wrote:

This year was my first L'Etape and your website brought back a lot of memories. I too had taken a camera with me but I only managed to take one picture on the course - at the summit of Aspin - once I got to Tourmalet all my instincts turned to survival which unfortunately didn't involve taking any pics so it was great to see yours.

As you say the descents were a nightmare. For me the worst thing was having reached Luz Ardiden, then having to do another descent to get to the coach. It was the coldest and most uncomfortable I've ever been. I was dressed for the summer and thought I was going to get hypothermia - the feeling still hasn't returned to two of my fingertips - although the doc has assured me it will...one day. It was an extreme and incredible experience and one that I'll never forget for the rest of my life. I'm really pleased that I did it and really, really pleased that I finished it and received the medal.

Paul wrote:

A major challenge. The wind, hail and sleet up to and over the Tourmalet meant that I spent 45 minutes in a cafe trying to warm up. Eventually plucked up courage to descend but the bike was wobbling almost uncontrollably. Got to Luz San Saveur and persuaded the official to let me complete the course, but only upon redemption of my transponder. Got to 2k from Luz Ardiden and was stopped again by a Gendarme and had to persuade him that my car was at the finish line and he let me through. I arrived at 18.10 (?? lantern rouge ??!!) and then had the wonderful ride to Viscos. B*****! what a cold uneven horrible descent. Got to hotel in Lourdes at 7.45 pm and had early-ish night; 1 Kronenbourg and two glasses of red !

Where is it next year !!

Paul and his three companions did the Etape for charity. Paul has raised over £500 so far!

Ross, who finished nearer the front than most of us, though possibly had a less exciting time, wrote:

Mark and myself, were in the last group to leave Tarbes, I then got a puncture 8km from the Start, the broom wagon passed. The positive thing about this is there is no one behind to overtake you. WelI, we seemed to overtake everyone, I think about 6 passed us on the way up Aspen, then I punctured again on the way down. Only about 5 got to us on the way up the Tourmalet, and only 1 on the way up Luz Ardiden - who I think I got back later, if not it must of been his team mate. It was Mark and myself (mainly Mark) driving through the wind on the flat, we were never part of a groupetto, and never had the benefit of others working for us. So I felt we had put up a good performance. Our hotel was halfway up or down the Tourmalet, which ever way you look at it from Luz, we had a lift organized for the return to Barages, but we were would have gotten too cold waiting for the roads to reopen, so cycled back up the Tourmalet to keep warm.

Ross and Mark completed a 12 hour time trial last year at average speeds of over 20mph! (though not in the mountains!)

Paul, of VC Bradford, wrote:

Excellent website - Did you make it this year ?. It was my first attempt and I got round (on 39 x 25 !), spent 7 hours 24 minutes "in the saddle" (for a bronze medal), but wasn't the weather TERRIBLE. I reckoned I most have been pretty close to hypothermia at the finish, (but I don't quit easily - bit "headstrong" I guess). Fortunately I was on the Luz Ardiden climb when the rain came down, (trying to keep warm in my "boil in the bag" racing cape, I heard afterwards it was SNOWING on the Tourmalet and 2°C at the top !.

Definitely one of the hardest days I have ever had on a bike !

Looking back though definitely worth the effort - I may go back for more.

Here is Mark's full story, entitled "An Exercise in Humility!":

On Thursday 19th July at 07:52 I rolled across the "Depart" line and my transponder registered the time. As number 7480 I was in the last group to leave Tarbes. I had to negotiate the infamous Col d'Aspin and Col du Tourmalet. Just to make sure I was as far back in the field as possible, my riding partner and Reading CC clubmate, Ross Fitheridge, punctured after 8 km. He was obviously annoyed by the timing of such a blow, but accepted that the 10 minutes to fit a new tube and get going again would not count for much in the long run.

One of the many "broom-wagons" pulled up behind us and waited patiently. Just as we got going again a Mavic service motorbike cruised past. Typical! We set a steady pace - around 18-mph - through small villages with people lining the streets. It was still very early but people of all ages stood by the road or leaned out of windows to cheer and shout "Courage!" and "Allez!"

Inside my stomach was porridge, bread, jam, banana, yoghurt, fruit juice, coffee and energy drink. We'd woken at 04:45 to eat at 05:00. At breakfast there were other riders from various clubs and places: Nigel Haselden from Willesden CC, Peter Herald from Rome, Oliver from Cambridge CC, William from Scotland, Bob from Lichfield CC and a group of three late arrivals we didn't have time to get to know. They had been severely delayed travelling to France with KLM and their bikes had not arrived until late the night before the ride.

Peter Derbyshire from had arranged for a coach to take us all down to Tarbes. It was there on time at 05:30 and by 05:45 we were on our way. It was dark, raining and understandably there was a sombre mood on the coach. Fortunately it had just stopped raining by the time we arrived in Tarbes. We overtook many cyclists along the road from Lourdes to Tarbes - several of whom were fixing punctures in the rain. What a way to start the day!

There were traffic jams in Tarbes and it was somewhat chaotic as cyclists wove in and out of buses and cars - all heading for the "Depart". That was the start. As Ross and I resumed our ride and pedalled towards Bagneres de Bigorre we could see a hint of brightness in the sky, but the mountains into which we were heading were covered in thick dark rain-clouds.

Coming into Bagneres de Bigorre we got our real feel for the Tour de France. The red and white straw bales were out and signposts directed us to take a left turn the wrong way down a one-way street. With closed-roads and the support of the police, this was something special! We picked up speed through the town and still people were cheering. At the first minor climb, the Haut de la Cote, we began a process of overtaking. I'd been warned to take these initial hills easy, so I span up them Armstrong style in 39 x 25. Ross and I regrouped on the descent and before long we were at the second climb of the day, the Cote de Mauvezin.

Here there were riders all over the place. All rules of overtaking seemed to go out of the window, but we tried to keep to the left, calling "A gauche" as we passed rider after rider. There were some stunning bikes. I was riding a Giant TCR with fairly traditional 32 spoke wheels. Ross had his fast-touring Donohue with a triple.

The first official ravitaillement was at Sarancolin at 62.5 km. Here we met up with Nigel and William and joined the melee of riders and helpers. There were plastic bottles all over the place.

At Arreau we met a big crowd at the junction with the road leading to the Col d'Aspin. Again, the sense that you were part of a massive event was emphasised by the crowds cheering, the Gendarmes beaming and the general mayhem.

At the top it was a bottle-fest again. I was reminded of Reading Festival and trampling over hundreds of empties. Again, cakes were being handed out and we took on bottles of water and made up energy drink for the descent. The fog and mist of the ascent gave way to weak sunshine and it was a relief to descend on relatively dry roads. Ross went ahead on the descent and as I took things steady following people and overtaking where safe enough I beamed with joy. This was excellent. This was what it was all about.

And then I saw Ross on a left-hand corner - standing by his bike instead of riding it! At first I thought he'd over-cooked a bend. He might well have done, had his puncture not been on a straight section. Fortunately he'd managed to do a controlled stop and not gone for a look at the trees. During the 10 minutes it took to change, hundreds of riders whizzed by us. It was frustrating to think that they were getting ahead, but again, in the long run it wasn't going to make a big difference. We continued together to the bottom of the col at St Marie de Campan. Here there was a control check where you had to ride over a mat to register your transponder. The sun was out and so were the crowds. Most people stopped for a few minutes to take off their capes and rain-jackets, preparing for the monster that goes by the name of Tourmalet. I've been told that the translation means "bad detour" but I don't know if it's true.

The ascent started off gently enough but after a few kilometres the gradient of 9% kicked in and it was time for 39x25 again. I stopped at a café to fill up with water again and rejoined the mass of riders grinding their way up

It was cold at the summit and I only stopped for a minute to put on a rainproof jacket before launching myself from the top. It began to rain on the descent and before long my fingers were frozen. I stopped after a few kilometres to put on extra gloves. Ironically the ride went right past the front door of our hotel. I'd told Ross and another clubmate, David Ravenhill, that I'd wait for them there. It was good to stop and chat with some of the guests who

Another food and drink stop was waiting for us just before the final climb up to Luz Ardiden. I was only expecting to take on water but ham and cheese sandwiches were being handed out and there were tubes of energy gel and museli bars for free. What cyclist could resist these free treats. Ross went chasing after a rider in a green top that was setting a fast pace. I was feeling tired by now and just wanted to ride at my own pace, so Ross disappeared round a bend. David said "See you at the top!" and he dropped behind. The final 13 kilometres were the toughest. I was up and down out of the saddle, genuinely wishing I'd got a 28 sprocket on the back to resort to. My back was aching by now but I was still overtaking everyone and reeling Ross in. With 4 kilometres to go we could see the finish above us. Lines of riders were visible along the route and by now there were riders coming back down the mountain having finished.

It began to rain. It wasn't a problem because the heat generated from climbing was enough to keep me warm. Rounding the final corner we had big grins on our faces and gave each other a friendly punch on the shoulder as we crossed the "Arrivee" line. We were shepherded into lanes at the end of which a marshal took our transponders. My stopwatch said 7 hours 41 minutes and the WinningTime.com web site confirmed this.

The day didn't finish there. After receiving our medals and pulling back on our rain-jackets we descended back to Luz Saint-Sauveur in heavy rain. The organisation routed us down a different road that was more gravely and came out a few kilometres north of Luz Saint-Sauveur. It seemed to take forever to descend but it must have been less than an hour because I got to Luz Saint-Sauveur around 16:30. The roads were still closed to traffic so we couldn't get a lift back

We arrived back at the hotel at 17:40 - almost 12 hours exactly since setting off in the morning: 109 miles at an average of 13.2 mph.

To put it all in perspective, the "winner" of L'etape took 4 hours 58 minutes. You may be able to find his name on www.letapedutour.com but it's a confusing site. Second place went to an ex-World MTB champion!

Three days later, from the comfort of my sofa, I watched Roberto Laiseka reach the finish at Luz Ardiden after a mere 4 hours 24 minutes and 30 seconds. The commentators had remarked on more than one occasion that the riders appeared to be taking it easy today. Please! I thought. Don't say that.

An exercise in humility, certainly.