Calling home..

Dear Mum,

So sorry we haven’t called in a while.. I guess you could say we’ve been busy. Frankly in the last couple of days, I haven’t had two spare neurones to bump together.

Racing generally starts between 7am and 8am, which means rising at 5, showering, breakfasting, race numbering, and fastidiously bike readying.

The Alpe d’Huez stage this week, from woe to go, including neutral sections, was just on 7 hours.

Then then real test of human endurance beings…

Cross the line, collect your race bag with post-race food, warm clothes, rehydration drinks, and all the rest of it.

Then ride down from the summit the to race village – which has typically been 8-10km down the slopes from the summit.

Line up for a hot meat – absolutely essential following each stage – the sooner the better.

Book in for a massage.

Line up for the massage.

Get the massage.

Beg for more massage.

Ride to the hotel, sometimes another 6kms away.

Line up to check in.

Check in.

Line up for dinner.

Eat dinner.

…and so it goes. The bike race is only the first part of the day!

But don’t worry, Mum. We are eating lots of food. Anything, everything. Gels, bananas, potatoes on offer at the feed zones, biscuits, jelly beans, dried apricots, sports bars, muesli bars, handlebars… Even the cows on the climb up Glandon looked at me with furtive eyes.

I told you that Maps and I have been a bit on the windy side… But somehow, the maths don’t quite add up. After all the food we’ve put in our mouths, so little of substance has emerged from the, you know, “other end“. Many who know us would say we are full of it – I guess this just proves it.

Anyway, enough of that talk. We rode from Alpe d’Huez to Briançon yesterday, and finished on a big hill. And today, we started from Briançon and finished on another big hill. It was very Iozard. Adrian lay on the road, for some reason. Maybe he was tired? Or maybe he doesn’t like our hotel.

The hotel is ok, depending on your viewpoint.

The viewpoint from our hotel is really nice.

It’s best if we look from our hotel, and not at our hotel.

We’ll be home soon. We are having a great time playing make believe professional cyclists. We only have two more days to go, which is lucky because we are nearly out of clean underpants (we forgot to pack a soigneur – ooops, next time).

Love, Stuart and Adrian.

3 Replies to “Calling home..”

  1. Dear Boys
    Just be careful when you devour the handlebars – they are a bit tricky!
    This is the best ‘Dear Mum’ letter I’ve ever received!
    Keep going boys you may never do this again.
    Next time you are sitting here in Melbourne – after a Sunday ride, munching on your inevitable muffin, making grand plans, just choose something a little closer to home so those of us at home can be your cheer squad.
    Or – take a cheer squad with you to some exotic destination.
    Love to you both
    From one mum.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. great read stu, you can tell youre tired with the spelling, surprised you found time, what an adventure, i lick my lips but then think, nah, thats just nuts…eat when you feel like it and even when you dont, thats what you told me all those years ago

    Liked by 1 person

  3. What an adventure! It really puts in perspective what the guys who ride the tour must go through. I hope you are getting time to soak it all in a little. We are all back home supporting you in spirit and you have done us proud, it has been inspiring following you online 🤩
    Only two stages to go!


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