Port de Bales

It starts to climb about 2-3 miles from the house. Ian has warned us that it is the toughest climb in the Tour de France, and to expect it to be chilly at the top.

I'm thinking 'not a problem' this should be tough, but it can't be much harder than the climbs we make up into Skyline Drive.

Talk about being naive! First sign post we see tells us that we have 19km to go to the peak. And as time goes on we see more and more signs that tell us the grade of climb and how much further we needed to go.

Let me say that it was a great day! Perfect weather, nice and warm in lower 80's, and no humidity. So climbing here is a bit easier than in Virginia. But not that much when it comes to over 12k with most of it being at 6-10 percent grade.

For those of you who live in Fredericksburg, just think Bubba on Lee Drive.....only 10 miles long!

I feel good going up this monster as we occasionally get a 100 meter respite occasionally on the way up (or I stop and take a picture). But the closer we get to the top, the more I start to think......

WHAT GOES UP, MUST COME DOWN!

I'm still pedaling away with only 2,000 meters to go to the top when I spot Jack on the side of the road. His face is covered in sweat, and he looks almost gray. He doesn't feel well at all, and is trying to rationalize continuing with the climb.

At this point I want to finish what I started because the climbing was tough, but I knew it was do-able. It was just the fact that I would have to go back down this twisty/turning road all the way down.

I start to attempt to get back on my bike (try doing this on a 10% grade), and almost fall off. I stop and pause. Again I am really getting scared about the ride back down. So I made the executive decision. I was going to turn around and go back.

And Jack rightly joins me. We meet Aimee (who was behind us at this point) and told her of our decision so that she could tell Ian and Louisa so they wouldn't freeze waiting around for us.

By now the temps are colder because a cloud has covered the mountain overhead. Plus you get the wind in your face going down. I don my arm warmers, and then it's a crawl to the bottom.

You see....I think I actually went down as slow as I went up. At one stop where Karen was with Jack I had him massage my hands. They were almost welded onto the brakes.

I was going so slow that I could almost have flipped over my bike bars at points of the ride down. I could read all the writing on the road for the Tour racers, and contemplate walking down. Heck, I could probably slide down faster on my bike cleats than I was riding.

But no matter....I obviously made my way down safely, and of course then beat myself up for becoming such a chicken.