Day 6
Today would be a day of climbing and descending – in total, I would do 3.5 climbs and nearly 4,000m of elevation change.
The day starts off with the epic climb up Tourmalet, a famous Tour de France climb. It’s rural and remote at the bottom and eventually enters the ski resort of La Mongie, which feels crowded, touristy and full of construction. The climbing continues past the resort and it’s an interesting scene. There are llamas. There’s a giant helicopter transporting large pieces of construction material. Tourists in caravans are taking pictures of the whole ordeal. The whole experience is surreal. It’s fun to ride up a famous climb – It takes me nearly three hours—more than three times longer than Sepp Kuss’s KOM time.
I reach the top and take in the views. Looking at the race tracker, I see that rider Lucas is hot on my tail – should be cresting the peak in the next 15 minutes. He’s still in the race, in the top ten, and has ridden all the way to the mediterranean coast and back. I patiently wait for him to arrive and when I see the unmistakable uniform of an ultra rider (bike bags, Albion gear, dazed look in the eyes) – I give him some encouragement: “Go Lucas! You’re killing it! Venga, ánimo!” He gives a quick smile and continues on his way – not even stopping to glance at the view. Without slowing his pedaling cadence even a fraction, he blasts through the crest, takes both hands off the handlebars and puts on his jacket while descending. It’s an incredible display of bike control! This guy is an absolute pro. I suppose you don’t get in the top 10 of a 2,000km ultra race by spending 20 minutes taking selfies and slowly layering up at the top of each mountain….
The descent is particularly fast, steep and thrilling. It’s such a contrast to the slow slog to reach the top. It’s an absolute blast.
I arrive in town for another big resupply of delicious French pastries, and then it’s on to the next col.
The rest of the day is a blur of climbing and descending, and before I know it, I’m low on food again! The route has gone even more remote – passing through barely populated farming hamlets. There’s no clear resupply anywhere! At 6 p.m., I come across a mountaintop café that’s closing for the day. Luckily they have a few candy bars and sodas – that should be enough to hold me over.
The views become more epic and remote. There are horses, mist, and clouds. It’s not cold but eerie and spooky. I’m riding into the side of the mountain, rocky cliffs below me. How is there even a road here? I feel like I’m in Jurassic Park. I arrive at Col d’Aubisque – it’s one of my favorites. Misty peaks and valleys, fall colors, epic scenery.
It’s dark – what to do now? I want to go into “race mode” and see how much elevation I can rack up. After all, my plan was to do more than 5k / day. However, I still struggle to find motivation. I’m not in the race anymore, so what’s the point? I’m also low on food – AGAIN! This time, I’ve swing the pendulum in the opposite direction – instead of eating too much food and feeling sick, I’ve eaten too little and I feel weak and unmotivated. Blast! It’s hard to balance.
I keep riding and half-heartedly look for a hotel. After hours of riding through remote wilderness, I come across a forgotten ski town. It’s like a zombie apocalypse – not a single sign of life anywhere. There is a small hotel, and there’s a woman inside! I try to get her attention, but it doesn’t work. Oh well, I’ll keep riding.
Night riding is fun but also spooky, eerie and intimidating. I focus on my beam of light and try to be as safe as possible. Eventually, I reach a small town and find a perfect bivy spot in a city park. I have no desire to do another 3 hour climb and descent in the middle of the night. Massive respect to the riders who finish the race – in order to do it, they probably need to do nearly double what I rode that day!
I settle in for a cozy sleep in my warm sleeping bag and bivy.
Day 7
I awake before sunrise in a damp town park, nestled between shrubs. I’m hungry and tired – but it’s time to get going! I drink the last of my Orangina soda and hungrily devour my final Mars bar. The bike is packed and ready to go. Do I continue on the Raid Parcours, going deeper into the Pyrenees and continuing to climb up and down cols? As much as I would like to, the reality of the situation is clear to me: I’m out of food, and there’s no clear resupply if I follow the race course. I reluctantly decide to say a final goodbye to the TPR course and re-route my map towards San Sebastian. I’ll pass through Saint-Jean-Pied-de-Port (SJPDP), the start of the Camino Francés—and basically Camino Disneyland—usually filled with pilgrims starting their journey and plenty of Camino vibes. It will be a trip down memory lane, I was in SJPDP on the first bike tour I took through Spain, back in 2019. A lifetime pilgrim, I love seeing all things Camino and feeling the vibes.
The day starts off slow; I frantically look for an open bakery. There’s one open nearby! I pedal with excitement ten minutes off course, only to be disappointed when I see it’s completely closed. It was 6AM, so not unexpected. On to the next one! An hour later, I was hungrily inhaling calories outside the tiny bakery. Delicious.
I push onward but struggle to find the motivation to continue. Despite eating a bunch of baked goods, I still feel sluggish and calorie deprived.
Finally, I arrive at the quaint city of Oloron-Sainte-Marie, a place I had previously traveled to on that same 2019 bike tour. I find a coffee shop and order a double espresso to give myself a chance to reset and get my head in the game. I’ve lost my motivation, but I’ll be back. After some journaling and caffeine consumption – I feel ready to go. I stop at Carrefour to resupply on sweet and salty calories and I’m back on the road.
I push onward and the scenery becomes quite Basque. Typical buildings, rolling hills, misty and green. I’ve crossed into Euskal Herria, the historical land of the Basques that covers parts of Spain and France. I’m climbing an isolated and desolate mountain road. There are sheep and horses. It’s foggy and the fall colors are spectacular. The steep mountains and empty valleys feel quite rugged.
I descend into the next valley and SJPDP is in my sights. I arrive to the center of town and quickly find a hotel room – ready to get a proper rest.
I shower and wash my bib – then head into town to look for food. I stop at the pilgrim office to get a stamp. It’s fun to chat with the Irish volunteer about Caminos and traveling. I reminisce about my days walking the Camino and volunteering as a hospitalero voluntario. This time, it’s a different kind of Camino – an ultra race turned into a bike tour. One day I’ll return to SJPDP and do the full Camino Francés—it’s definitely a bucket-list item for me.
