Epic ending…

This morning Churp was to wake me up at a little past 6bells. He didn’t. I was up by 5:30 and ready to go. The air was crisp as Churp, FM, and I headed out of Albertville. It took about 50 yards for the road to turn up. We climbed out of town and headed to Beaufort as the clock turned to 6:30am. “Epic ending,” as I coined today’s ride, was underway. The sun hadn’t risen above the mountains so we rode in the shade for the first hour. Epic.

Churps knees were killing him so he waved goodbye to us as he turned up the route to the Col du Pre. FM and I stopped for some coffee and chocolate croissants. The coffee was hot and the croissants were buttery, flakey, and went down in a French flash. We climbed. 13 kilometers later we were reunited with Churp atop the Col. After I got shocked by the electric cow fence, we decided it was time to descend. 2k down, the most beautiful lake appeared to our right. We rode across the dam road and flashed enough pictures for a team of twelve even though we were just a team of three.

Next, we turned to the right and headed up to the last Col of the trip. We summited the Col de Roseland after a hard climb (not as hard as Pre) of around 8k. We met John from the UK atop this Col and he took pictures of us all. Cyclists are a friendly bunch even when their from completely different cultures and countries. Kinda cool. downer and Blondie arrived a few minutes later as if it had been planned. Magic.

Today, we had an epic ending to our cycling adventure in France. Eight days. Eight rides. 58,000 feet of climbing. FM, baby. The 25 mile descent was kinda like the icing on the proverbial cake. As I bombed the descent, my mind flashed back to all the memories made, all the climbs, all the suffering, all the joy of the summit, all the giddiness of skipping the “valley” ride, the pure simplicity of me, my bike, and the push upon the pedal. France deux is just about in the books. Blondie and downer are driving to Grenoble to ride the Tour de France climb and then watch along with 1.5 million of their best friends. Churp is getting a massage. FM and I are awaiting our French pizza and a few hours watching the Tour de France from the comfort of our hotel. We’re hoping to catch a glimpse of Blondie in his OSU outfit. We’re relaxed and already anticipating the sight of our brides tomorrow night upon our return. It has been an epic adventure across the Alps. And, it’s about to end. Today, however, we had an epic ending I’ll most likely never forget. We’ve already toasted over a Belgium Leffe. We most likely have a few more in us.

We’ll be back in five to celebrate my 60th, The Lord willing. And, thanks to my new cycling friend from the UK, we’ve already got a route in the works. Turns out the Roman’s route across the Alps might be right up our alley. Starts in Geneva and ends in Nice, France. It’s good to have big dreams, mate. It’s good to dream big. Remember as Goethe once said, “dream no small dreams; for small dreams have no power to move humankind.”

Dream big, my friend. Dream big. Bon jour, pussycats. Bon jour…