Over and Out

So, I’m drowning under a growing pile of Xmas cards itching to be written and sent. As the temperature continues to plummet, the constant 30 degrees, fresh air and blue skies of the French Auvergne and the Spanish Sierra Nevada seem a distant memory.

I’ve been meaning to write this final post for several weeks, but just haven’t managed to commit to it.  Much like shaving off the ‘Bellamyesque’ beard, dragging myself to a barbers for the first time in months and weaning myself off daily applications of Chamois cream, I’ve put these tasks off for as long as possible, savouring every moment of the ‘just back from my travels’ appearance. Even if the look had a certain trampishness about it, it felt bloody wonderful. Bellamy, Captain Birds Eye and Ben Fogle all wrapped into one.  Nice.

Did we really get back over 6 weeks ago? Amazing how time flies. Honestly, what with the Wire and Homeland to catch up on, press interviews to give, photo albums to organise and endless requests for public appearances, I’ve been flat out. Exhausted.  In fact, I need a holiday.

But before I disappear off in search of warmer climes, I do just want to say a few final thank yous.

As you all know the idea for this ride developed after my father passed away in January. And while the ride was undoubtedly a lot of fun, full of terrific memories and experiences, the poignancy of the driving factors for me doing this were never far away throughout the 10 weeks. It was about the incredible Phyllis Tuckwell Hospice that cared for Dad, the Help For Heroes charity that my father supported, but first and foremost it was about Dad and taking on a ride he did 50 years ago and finishing it in his memory.

I doubt my English GSCE ‘A’ equips me sufficiently to convey the level of gratitude I feel. I really can’t thank everyone enough who has supported the journey, either by donations, messages of encouragement, offers of support etc. We’ve raised a staggering £12,000 to date, which is truly incredible when you think I wasn’t sure if I’d get to £3,000 when I first started out. To put it into context, the CEO of the Hospice told me that this is one of the biggest amounts raised by fundraising – they just don’t have people going out and doing what we’ve done for them very often.  It really means a huge amount to them all the staff there. So a huge, sincere and if Dad had anything to do with it, probably teary thank you from me to everyone who has donated and got behind us. Times are tough, and you have been incredible, some of you ridiculously so.

To wrap up this memorable adventure, a couple of individual thank yous that need special mention:

Karen , Henri and Mike – my wonderful cousins, thank you for making the effort to join us in Argentiere and again for your hospitality in Geneva. Delighted to have involved you in the journey. And Karen & Henri – I am so happy for you both!

Annie and Paddy – for putting us up in Anzere and treating us to possibly the best meal of the 10 weeks! Your generosity was and is incredible.

Dave, Jan and Stewart – Sedella, wow, please find me a mountain top too. I’m serious. A truly fantastic couple of days chilling out before the big finale. One day, I will cycle up that dam mountain though!

Jason, the ‘Armenian Bullet’ who joined us for 10 days, buried himself in the mountains on that first day, is the only person to have ‘really had to push it up the hills’ and currently holds the record for crashes involving only himself.  Thanks mate.

Lulu, Olivia and Rick – Tour Director, Tour Support Coordinator and Accoutrement Design Director respectively.  Thanks for your ongoing support, schlepping out to join us on those various weekends, replenishing Dioralyte supplies, giving Cheeks and I someone else to chat to after weeks of our own banal banter and for arranging a flawless and magnificent welcome to Gibraltar. You are stars.

Cheeks/Humph - bearded partner in crime, thank you for putting off your return to the world of work (whenever that might be!) and choosing to be part of the whole journey, even if you did take 2 weeks off in the middle… It was a real blast and will live very long in the memory.  Thank you.

And finally, to Dad. The inspiration. It’s been a pleasure following in your footsteps. I hope you have enjoyed the journey as much as I have.

That’s all folks, save for a final shot of the beard!  Happy Christmas.

Charlie

10 days in the saddle - by Jason, the Armenian Bullet

Hello World.

A guest post from yours truly, the recently christened Armenian Bullet. (User Guidelines: Only to be fired on the flat or downhill. Performance can be a little shaky and cannot be guaranteed at uphill gradients above 10%).

So.

What an amazing 10 days on the road.

A brutal yet beautiful introductory first day starting in Nice and on through the 1200m summit of the Gorge Du Verdon. This accomplishment set the pace and my expectations of myself for the remainder of the tour. It felt good to prove my fitness on the first day. A quick and early win for the confidence. The guys looked impressed.

The only problem was that come 8pm I couldn't feel my legs.

Yes. No feelings in the legs and despite having consumed 2 croissants, a banana, a peach, 2 foot long baguettes, a quiche, two power bars, one hot chocolate, a packet of dried fruits, peanuts and 4 litres of water - I was starving beyond measure.

Having devoured a pizza for dinner, that night I fell asleep to the sound of my own snoring. I can't deny it.

No sleep ins, no late departures; showered and up and at'em on the road by 8.30am each morning looking for breakfast. Pain au raisin and coffee. Oh Pain au raisin! How you lifted our spirits with your devilishly smooth custard filing and manly size. I miss you.

Now. Let's talk about Charlie's beard. Have you seen it?

I'm not saying its the thickest, densest wildest omnidirectional gorse bush of a beard I've ever encountered, BUT....yes I am. Its mental. It's the kind of environment where one would find a family of slow loris dwelling in the undergrowth. A majestic Amazonian wonder of such unparalleled abundance that it makes Chewbakka look like an over hyped man suit of bum fluff. He must have been drinking Spinach and concrete mix before going to bed each night. To be fair I couldn't hear, I was snoring.

Cycling on the hard shoulder of a motorway is not for the faint hearted. Nor is crossing a five lane motorway doing one fifth the speed of passing traffic. Often unavoidable and at once foreboding, these were typically the hours we spent toiling in Spanish headwinds getting some distance under our belt. Head down and getting the job done. Flags flying. Always.

My uncle wisely one said, those who choose to ride the tiger cannot dismount at will. So it went with our cycling challenge; there was little option but to push through, often with very little daylight left to find ourselves a campsite. It was just the right side of edgy to be enjoyable. I imagine a bit like living in Brixton.

And No. My uncle wasn't in the circus.

For the most part, we were utterly spoilt with beautiful landscape in both France and Spain.From zipping through treelined boulevards and past countless old Chateaus in Provence, to taking on numerous Cols and hills as we zig zagged down the coast line and over the Pyrenees into Spain. A visual feast for the eyes and all the better to take our minds off the sheer physicality of our undertaking. Cycling uphill for hours on end is hard work. Add 20kg of weight and you have a profuse sweat on your hands. But once you hit the downhill it was all worth it - nothing like a 60km downhill speed to get the blood flowing.

Referred to by locals as the "bike of the Capitalist", my machine got her fair share of looks from admiring on lookers throughout the trip. Unfortunately, so did I, during my several stacks onto the tarmac. A stack being a complete sideways collapse onto the road, with both legs still clipped into the pedals. Yes. It really did look as ridiculous as it sounds.

The best part is when your friends re direct traffic to get a better position in the road to take a photo of you.

Charlie's Welsh flag also won a popularity contest, pulling in conversations and interest wherever we went, often accompanied with moments of kindness and compassion as complete strangers handed us donations. It was great to see and a reminder of our capacity as human beings to reach out to each other through acts of sympathy and kindness.

And to your kindness, support and donations - for my small part in this adventure, thank you. I completed 1100km in 9 days of cycling. I'm proud of my achievement and proud to have been part of this special journey with Charlie and Cheeks. Being able to complete such an enjoyable and rewarding challenge with friends is one for the Grandchildren.

To Charlie and Cheeks. Your work in the saddle over the past few months is an inspiration. £8,000 raised and over 4000km cycled. Really very well done.

And so farewell blog friends. I leave you many pounds lighter and even more smitten with cycling than when I first started the tour. Great memories from raising money for a great cause. Rock on.

AB.

(PS. Armenia is a land locked country between Turkey, Georgia, Azerbaijan and Iran. A big Shout Out to my diasporic brothers we chanced upon during the trip. Fly that flag!)

And the media circus begins...

Fame at last! Check out this link for the interviews with me and Humph...

http://www.gbc.gi/news/news-player.php?programme=475&episode=5057

And here is the Gibraltar Chronicle article....

UK CHARITY CYCLE TO GIB RAISES OVER £10,000

Charlie Vaughan-Griffiths and friend Humphrey Butler successfully completed their charity cycle from the UK to Gibraltar at Eastern Beach, yesterday afternoon.

Cycling through France, participating in the Alpine Road Race for Help the Heroes and finally cycling down the Eastern Coast of Spain; the duo smashed their fundraising target by raising an impressive £10,000 for Phyllis Tuckwell Hospice with over 67 days of long distance cycling. The 4,000 kilometre adventure was inspired by Charlie’s father, who had attempted to cycle along this route almost 50 years ago and sadly passed away earlier this year after battling liver cancer.

All the money raised by the cycling duo is planned to be donated to the hospice which cared for his father before his death. Boasting whispy long beards and golden tans, the two charity cyclists crossed the finishing line in style and with bags of amazing experiences behind them.

“It’s huge; it means so much to me and my family. Doing this trip has been rewarding on so many levels and there’s no reason why it has to end here. I think there’ll definitely be part two of some sort in the future!” commented a cheerful Charlie on his achievement.

We've done it!

After 67 days, 4630kms cycled and over £10,000 raised, we made it to Gibraltar on 11th October.

And we even got on the news...

http://www.gbc.gi/news/news-player.php?programme=475&episode=5057

Fantastic to complete the journey. It's been incredible as has the support.

Full update to come, but now the beach is calling...

Penultimate day, milestones and not the final post

Our penultimate day on the bikes, as we prepare for tomorrow's final few kms to Gibraltar. Humph stormed past the 4000km mark today. Considering he only signed up initially for a couple of 'easier weeks' in northern France, this is quite a achievement. Especially when you take into account the dodgy knees and weight of beard.

And we are now over the £10,000 mark for donations. Thanks to a wonderful surge online this week including a number of amazing people sponsoring twice. I can't thank you all enough. And the cash donations keep coming in from people we meet on the road, who see the shirts and hear the story behind the journey.

So Gibraltar tomorrow and the end of an amazing ten week adventure.

I'm not ready to wrap this up just yet, but suffice to say that it has been incredible on many fronts.

Bring in the Rock!

£10,000 raised!

As we zero in on Gibraltar, with one and a half days riding to go, I'm absolutely delighted to say we've just hit the magical £10k!!

Unbelievable. The pain as I lie here trying to straighten my back out in Fuegirola's finest campsite, is totally worth it.

Thank you to everyone involved in what is proving to be a marvellous final drive to the line. You are all stars.

Sincere and most humble thanks,

Charlie and Humph

2 Days To Go..

.. but can we get to double digits before the boys reach Gibraltar?

If you can help, visit :

http://uk.virginmoneygiving.com/CharlieVaughanGriffith

Or for text donations of up to £10, text CHVG77 plus the amount to 70070

Thank you enormously!!

Tour HQ xx

Glass!

Nothing like fixing a puncture on the hard shoulder of a Spanish motorway (bikes prohibited) to focus the mind..

Thankfully, 40ks later as we approach Granada, we were sat in a roadhouse diner having a beer, having gritted it out, evaded the police, dodged most of the sh*t and debris in the road and avoided the endless stream of lorries.

All in a day's work. So, how was your afternoon dear?

Charlie hits 4000kms!

Strong work, VG...

(... and if our meticulous planning works out I should make 4000kms just as we cross the finish line in Gibraltar only a week or so away.. BRING IT ON!)

Au revoir la France, you saucy mistress...

After 3000 kilometres, 386 baguettes, 51 days, 26 départements, 5 separate crossings of the mighty Rhone, 2 punctures and a handful of wild rants at careless drivers, France - you great temptress - it is time to say goodbye.

Forget Switzerland - that was a reckless fling. Meant nothing, all in the past, honest! 

France... most visited country on Earth, birthplace of the nonchalant shrug, home of short politicians and more classy vistas than you could waggle a legless frog at. 

From your unpromising Channel ports lulling visitors into a false sense of indifference, to the sublime dotting of forests and chateaux along the Loire; from the stunning volcanoes and tasty springs of the Auvergne to the spirit-testing cols of the Alps; from the sun-baked Provencal hinterland to the kilometre-high Gorges du Verdon; from the wild horses, pink flamingoes and salt mountains of the surreally-flat Camargue, to the splendour of the Pyrenees and the winsome, winding cliff-top roads leading to the Spanish border... France, you have teased and tempted us with your shapely curves and come-hither looks.

 

 

 

 

From the friendly locals' bonjours to the encouraging toots of passing lorries; from the whipping Charlie received at crazy golf to his recovery of some kind of form at mini boules; from the many examples of kindness from friends and strangers alike to the arrival on tour of the Armenian bullet; from the surprise tour call-up of David Bellamy to accepting that my upright riding style looks like the old guy on the moped who leads out cyclists in the velodrome... France, it almost brings a tear to the eye to see the back of you. Although, what a back it is.

 

 

We'll miss you, France.

 

Sent lovingly (albeit slightly unfaithfully) from Spain...

  

Remembering Dad in San Feliu

Here's to you RVG. May San Feliu and it's monastery remain a special place for us both now and in the years to come.

You are sorely missed.

Love and respect,

CVG x

Bienvenidos a Espana!

Hitting the £7k...

By accepting J's challenge to cover the first 6k uphill today in under 20 minutes, and then challenging him to match me.

Thankfully we both did it, adding £200 to the kitty.

Now for the rest of the 120k we need today...

3000km done

3000km completed as we approach the Pyrenean foothills and almost £7000 raised. Huge thanks to all the sponsors and supporters. You are all absolute stars.

And for those of you who are still intending to rummage about in those pockets of yours, now is a great time as we battle with 35 knot headwinds, heavy legs and start to cross the Pyrenees and begin the final stretch through Spain...

Great video from the Help for Heroes ride

http://vimeo.com/49905533

This was put together after the 4 awesome days riding through the Alps on the Piste to Plage ride for Help for Heroes.

A vital part of my trip and incredible to be part of an event that raised over £350k for the charity.

Enjoy

Our office

Wipeouts, Armenian mafia and nudist beaches

The Blazing Pedals tour is well and truly under way again after a 2 week sojourn in Toulouse and the Piste to Plage respectively for Cheeks and I. 4 days of riding from Antibes and we are sunning ourselves on the beach in Agde, a stones throw away from Beziers. So, to recap the ups and downs of the the last 450ks...

Jason, now known as the Armenian Bullet, has joined the trip and was thrown in at the deep end. First couple of days were spent climbing from Antibes up through the Gorges du Loup and Verdon through Provence. Stunning riding and beautiful scenery. Remember the car chase round the mountain roads in the opening scenes of Goldeneye? We cycled it. Photos really don't do justice to the vistas we we treated to.

And Jason came off his bike. Twice. Both were minor, fairly stationary stacks. And unfortunately neither Cheeks or I were able to get either episode caught on camera. Unharmed and enthusiasm undimmed, the Armenian Bullet continued to live up to his name, on the downhills at least.

We had our first donation on the move too as we were finding our way out of Antibes, with an English couple shoving €5 into Cheeks outstretched hand as they overtook. Awesome.

That was only the start of a good run of on-tour donations. Firstly, as we stopped for a hot chocolate in St Remy, we were approached by Kenny from Inverness who had a similar experience of his father being cared for in a hospice. As we set off, he gave us €50 towards our target.

And then in Arles towards the end of the day, a Canadian and an American couple both donated after chatting to us and hearing the story about Dad and why we are doing this. The kindness of complete strangers continues to amaze me.

St Remy was also notable for us Jason getting lost. With pannier management causing all sorts of problems, he fell behind and took a wrong turn. There followed a steam of frantic texting and phone calls to get on to the right road. Eventually, having gone into the back of a car that stopped suddenly (definitely the driver's fault but we won't mention that J was looking at the GPS on his phone at the time) he crested the top of the hill, just as I was about to instigate an international search and rescue operation.

We then had a glorious ride through the farmland national park to a campsite in St Giles as the sun was setting across endless fields of barley. I wonder if i can get any more Sting songs into this blog post...

And Jason had his third stack after failing to get his feet out if the clips before stopping. His panniers are taking a real pasting. He blames me for stopping too quickly and the video evidence is being scrutinised by the tour committee. Cheeks caught it all on camera. Brilliant. But the funniest thing about it was whilst J was lying prostrate in the bushes contemplating appropriate braking distance between bikes, a car of four equally swarthy lads pulled up looking like the local mafia. They happened to be Armenian. In France, on quiet country back roads. They spotted Jason's Armenian flag is still fluttering resolutely from his upturned bike. What are the chances of that? I mean, I've never met an Armenian in my life, and probably wont meet another one. Are the actually any more? Anyway, this bizarre meeting was more than enough to get our bruised but wonderfully colour coordinated hero off his feet and launching into the strangest attempt at a Armenian/English/French conversation. No one really understood a word butane thing, but it was very amusing to watch.

And with bikes, panniers and cyclists just about in one piece, we rolled into the campsite at St Gilles.

The final day, Saturday was a cruise through the Caramgue region along the coast. Some lovely flat coastal cycling enabling us to cover good ground, mixed in with some rather less than ideal hurtling down main roads. Avoiding the endless glass on the hard shoulders/bike paths and the traffic in the road became a little bit too hectic. Especially when one of Jason's panniers comes off and bounced along the dual carriageway. This started a bizarre 10 minutes which ended with Cheeks having his first stack of the whole trip, just as he approached the road sign to 'Palavas'. It summed it all up perfectly!

Again, panniers took the hit so thankfully no lasting damage done. And with energy draining after 120k, we cruised in to the beach town of Agde where we have camped up to have a rest day. And it just happens to be in a nudist colony. Brilliant.

Considering our state of disarray, uncleanliness and general raggedness, if most of France won't allow us in pools without wearing speedos due to 'hygine' issues, I can't imagine they'd want 3 bedraggled hairy bikers muddying their pristine waters.

So, stats for Jason's first four days on the tour:

4 days
3 stationary/barely moving stacks
1 incident with a car (went into back of)
1 pannier found bouncing down a motorway
4 fellow Armenians brothers/mafia
1 croq (shoe) lost, probably forlornly sitting on the side of the road to Palavas

All told, a cracking four days. And we are a couple of days away from Spain. Can't wait.

The boys are back in town...

Well, back on the tour at any rate. First day had everything from showing off the Union Jack speedos on the Cote Azur, Jason stacking it TWICE, to riding through the gorgeous Bar sur loup and on to the stunning Gorge de Verdon at sunset... Awesome and good to reunited with the Ridgebacks..

Piste to Plage - an incredible four days

As I sit here admiring the view in Juan Les Pins, a little overview on what was quite an extraordinary four days of riding.

From day 1 when 160 lycra clad cyclists slogged their way up the highest col in the Alps, to the following three days of the best cycling I've ever experienced, it has been an incredible journey.

Day 2 was a big day. 3 cols, 2 awesome descents and over 10,000 vertical feet climbed. Praying for better weather we began the day with an immediate assent of the famous Galibier at over 2700 metres. We grinded up through the snowline until reaching the summit mid morning. No hanging around in the bitter -3 degrees and vicious cross wind, we started descending. At this point I've put a plastic sheet under my 'waterproof' jacket to act as some form of wind protection. Partial success. But descending in fingerless gloves I lasted less than five minutes before being unable to feel the brakes. I pulled over and shoved my hands down my shorts in a futile attempt to get the circulation back. Thankfully a friend came passed and lent me one of his overgloves, which at least gave me one brake hand and allowed for a safe descent down the mountain. A typical example of the camaraderie that encapsulated the whole trip.

With a couple of high mountain passes to get through, my spare socks were modified into gloves at lunchtime. Nothing if not inventive!

The rest of the day involved climbing Cols Izoard and Vars, both surprising us all with their toughness and relentless gradient. Thought Galibier was the hard one! The scenery was stunning with the clearest mountain blue sky providing endless photo opportunities.

Day three began by completing the summiting of Vars and then enjoying a fantastic descent through beautiful gorges, before taking on the Cime du Bonnette, at 2800+ metres, it's the highest road in Europe.

Getting up there was a real triumph and celebrated with the traditional bike above the head shot. Then we had another wonderful winding descent towards Nice followed by a short climb to Auron where we were given beers on arrival as we crossed the finish line. That was the hard stuff done, and we soaked up the sun cheering on in every one of the 158 riders. Special mention to Mark, the marine who lost a leg in a training accident who I cycled with in parts over the last few days. Truly incredible. He did everything we did and seeing him cross the line in undoubted pain, was absolutely fantastic.

Yesterday, the final day, was all downhill. So you'd think it would be fairly leisurely. No chance. Being part of a 10 man working peloton screaming down the mountain in single file, hitting over 60km an hour at times was utterly exhilarating. Trusting the guy in front implicitly as you sit inches from his back wheel flying passed other cyclists, cars and barely noticing the blurred scenery was a fantastic start to the final glorious day.

We cruised through Nice towards Juan Les Pins in one long 160 person procession taking over roads, cycle paths and generally causing all manner of mayhem on the roads as we neared our destination. An incredible sight and experience.

We stopped to waste a few minutes on the beach front before arriving and all threw down our bikes and went piling into the Med. The biggest cheer was for Mark, who, unfazed by the stones that had us all dancing about like girls, threw off his prosthetic leg and bounded down the beach and perfected a dive that would Tom Daley might almost have been proud of. Magic.

And with that, we cruised round to a fantastic reception under the palm trees at the beach at Juan Les Pins. Led in by Mark and the other injured servicemen who have accompanied us, it really was a very special moment. The breath-taking cycling, the scenery and the friendships and camaraderie developed on the road and up the climbs, have made this a truly unforgettable four days.

To be part of a group that have raised over £350k for Help for Heroes is wonderful.
And if there was any doubt about H4H being too much of a 'big charity machine' now, hearing another ex-serviceman Jamie talk so candidly about how he was so severely burned when his plane caught fire and how H4H has been invaluable to him in his recovery, was an inspiring and fitting end to an incredible few days.

Absolutely awesome.

Piste to Plage for Help for Heroes Day 1

What an insane day. Set off up the 35k climb to Col d'Iseran at 2950 metres in the pouring rain. Totally ineffective wet riding gear meant I was wet though in minutes. An ominous start. Conditions deteriorated from there and a blizzard came in as we hit 5k to go to the top. Driving snow and stinging horizontal sleet created the most insane cycling conditions I've ever experienced.

With hyperthermia setting in, awful conditions, icey roads and numb hands making a 70k descent treacherous we all had to be bussed off the top. Day abandoned. Never been so cold in my life. The guy who lent me a beany & ski leggings is a star. As is the german couple who allowed 15 frozen, soaked cyclists to cram into their campervan until we could get taken off the mountain.

And utter respect to the injured service men who did it with us. Unbelievable.

All good now, and we're all set for day 2, the Galibier and hopefully much better weather. It is summer after all!!

Enjoy the pic!