Blazing Pedals Team News

As Humph loiters in Toulouse amending his farmer's tan, and I prepare for the arduous Piste 2 Plage race in the Alps for Help for Heroes, attention has been focused on the make up on the Blazing Pedals team for the Final Stage: Nice to Gibraltar, starting on 18th September.

After 4 weeks of continuous cycling, (ok, and a handful of days recuperating and sampling the many delights of France and selected delights of Switzerland), the team has been decided after hours of lengthy, unnecessary and wine-induced selection headaches.

Firstly, the Tour Committee is delighted to announce that after a very strong Stage 1 where he impressed in almost every area (and despite unsanctioned pre-tour beard growth that is still the subject of an ongoing external disciplinary investigation) Cheeks/Humph or 'Le Grand Barb' passed selection with flying colours.

Tour Director of Communications commented, "his culinary expertise with French sausages, outstanding beard growth and wonderfully effective verbal onslaughts towards Swiss waiters, guaranteed Cheeks' place on the Final Stage. We are excited by the variations he will conjure up with all that chorizo on offer, and are looking forward to more incredulous put-downs should any Spanish waiter dare to deliver a luke warm coffee."

Secondly, after months of riding the dykes of Brighton, Jason Ricks has gone above and beyond the qualifying requirements for the Tour. He will be joining the Blazing Pedals team in Nice for a week to ten days depending on work commitments and how well his backside holds up after 600k on a new road bike.

"A bit of an unknown quantity in the culinary department and doesn't know a tyre lever from a brake lever, but we are sure that his rider's physique and natural fitness as well as his insistence on bringing 17 t shirts, will make him an invaluable team member," said Tour Director of Communications.

A full profile on Jason will be issued in due course. Right now, siesta time and there is a hammock with my name on it.

Punctures, famous cheese and a dam big hill

Left Albertville slightly later than planned, after impressing myself for a second time with my mechanical mastery by fitting the back brakes too. Set off up the hill towards Beaufort and then the Cormet de Roselend, despite the protestations of a german cyclist who was adamant I should go 'zee eazie vay'. At 1968m and a 19k climb, Cormet de Roselend is the biggest col to date.

Beaufort was a pretty town, and I only realised afterwards about its claim on the best Gruyere cheese in the world. Dam. Just as I had polished off my pizza and Oringina, I saw my back tyre looking pretty sorry for itself. Bugger. Half an hour later, patched up, I set off for the Cormet.

Stunning ride through the mountain roads. 3 Germans on road bikes crept past, all out of the saddle, with 16k to go. When the mountain downpour kicked in and I passed them hunkering under a tree, I pushed on, hoping that my tortoise approach might get me to the top first. It didn't, unsurprisingly as they cruised by several Ks later. Passed the stunning lac de Roselend, and then drew up alongside a kiwi, Chris and his Swedish fiancé, Linda with about 3k to go. Chatted most of the way to the top. Once summited we flew down to Bourg St Maurice, a 20k descent mixing great stretches of road with endless hairpins, and then on for a few Ks to the small village is Seez where we camped up.

They took pity on the bearded brit, and invited me over for dinner. Dam good it was too, finished off with the famous Beaufort Gruyere cheese. Great to share traveling stories and hear about other peoples' adventures. They left Paris 10 days ago, and are en route to Istanbul, on a ten week trip. Rock and roll. Safe travels folks.

Seez is the nearest campsite to Sainte Foy where I meet up with the Piste to Plage crew, so I'm going to rest up here for a few days.

Having said that, the 2750m Col d'Iseran is very near....

On the road again

Found campsite (Albertville), put up tent, repaired brakes, cut hair, cooked tinned ravioli (I know, sorry Cheeks, culinary standards slipped tonight), birthday call to Mum and in bed by 9 pm just as the storm hit.

Good day all round and great to be back in the Alps.

Switzerland: trams, industrial estates and room upgrades

As France goes back to work and school, we start the second stage of the journey, after a weekend in Geneva...

We left the Olympic capital that is Lausanne, in the pouring rain heading for the outskirts of Geneva. Pretty uninspiring riding round the north side of lake Geneva which was a shame, as in good weather, it's stunning. After stopping at a cafe in Nyon where Cheeks had a stressful 45 minute rant with laterooms.com to find a hotel in Geneva and I dried my socks on the chair, I think the staff were happy to see the back of us.

2km from Geneva and no campsite welcoming two bedraggled cyclists, we ended up 14km away in an industrial estate in a suburb called Sartingy. Cranes, planes, limited sleep and torrential rain made for an interesting stay, but Cheeks did experience CVG's tuna pasta supreme which is an undoubted culinary highlight. And I lost at shithead again.

We rode into Geneva the following morning, wet, smelly, irritated and looking forward to our respective hotels. Cheeks in a 1 star thanks to his laterooms.com rant and yours truly lording it up in a 4 star thanks to a very organised girlfriend.

The highlight of the morning was the first tour stack. 4 lanes of traffic, tram lines everywhere. I'm looking to change lanes, my front wheel gets wedged in the tram line and I've crashed to the floor before I can shout 'Das ist verboten'. Thankfully there was no tram approaching as my tent and water bottles went rolling all over the place.

Bruised and annoyed at my carelessness, we headed to a cafe for a Swiss speciality before we could checkin. The hot chocolate arrived in powder form (actually very tasty) but with tepid milk. This was too much for Cheeks, who let the 70 year old waiter know exactly what he felt about Swiss service after the waiter returned with marginally warmer milk which he tipped all over the place whilst deflecting Cheek's verbal onslaught. All in all, a very pleasant start to Geneva!

Ten minutes later, I wheeled my bike through reception of the Royal Manotel, with the staff and wealthy Arabian families looking on curiously. And after chatting with the staff about the journey, the girl on reception seemed delighted to tell me I had been given an upgrade to a superior suite. So I spent the next 2 hours cleaning up, watching the biggest TV I've ever seen and drying my soaking tent out in the bathroom with the hair drier.

That evening marked the arrival of Olivia for the weekend, and the temporary parting of then Blazing Saddles team. After a celebratory supper to mark the end of the first main stage, Cheeks headed off the following morning for a two weeks R&R in Toulouse whilst I head back to the Alps to gear up for the Help For Heroes Piste to Plage challenge.

Key highlights of the weekend in Geneva were seeing Olivia who provided a fantastic break from the routine of cycling and camping. I had been concerned about breaking the routine initially, but taking a couple of days out has helped refocus and recharge ahead of the physical and emotional challenge of the next 6 weeks. We saw my cousin Karen and her husband Henri in Geneva old town who cooked a fantastic supper and even washed all my clothes, their first proper wash in 4 weeks - wonderful! Again, great to catch up with family that I just don't see enough of. And finally, heading across the lake via ferry back to Nyon to see Olivia's friend Danielle and her husband Rob who put us up and provided a cracking BBQ on Sunday. Perfect preparation for getting back on the bike the next day.

It was all over far too quickly. Before I knew it, I was changing back into my tour lycra in the hotel lobby, fixing panniers, raising the Welsh flag and saying a prolonged goodbye to Olivia, before taking on rush hour traffic leaving Geneva. Mistake. Later than planned and without a decent map or working 3G GPS on the phone I got a little lost and ended up hurtling down the autoroute much to the increasing annoyance of passing truckers. As the hard shoulder got thinner and the trucks got nearer, I cut my losses and took the earliest exit and found my way into the sanctuary and familiarity of the rural France, heading south.

And with that, almost immediately the city stress fell away, angry drivers were replaced with encouraging motorists tooting and waving as they passed and I headed into the countryside.

Goodbye Switzerland. Hello France. Bring on the Alps.