Thirteen years professional and still as keen and motivated as ever to perform.  It certainly says a lot about the character of the man who has claimed victory in both Paris Roubaix and Paris Tours, and can still turn up at the smaller French races gee’d up and ready to race.   

Fred is a real leader in La Francaise des Jeux, not so much as in what he says at team meetings or the advice he gives the younger rides, but more in the he conducts himself around the races and the way in which he races.  Obviously with experience a rider learns how to read a race better and better, and this is where one of Fred’s biggest strength lies.  He may be 36 now and sometimes doesn’t quite have the legs to follow at crunch time in the big races but he will put himself in the position more often than not to contest a race and if the legs are there on the day he’ll be ready to do battle. 

This year I was lucky enough to get a start in the most prestigious one day classic in cycling, Paris Roubaix.  For me the race was all over before it really began but it was the experience of the build up to the race that was invaluable.  Doing three days of reconnaissance over the pave of northern France with guys like Fred and Christophe Mengin was where you really learn a thing or two about pro cycling.  When pass through the formidable pave section of the ‘Arenberg forest’ and they tell you to go 500m on the right, then 1km on the left, then up the middle to the finish, you know these boys have been around for while and know what they are talking about. 

As a father of three young girls, Fred tells me now when he comes away to races its to recover and get some sleep, virtually the complete opposite to a neo pro like myself.  Race life is completely second nature for him, where home life requires just as much effort though with a lot more interrupted nights with young ones doing what they do best. 

Fred’s dry witty humor often keeps the crew entertained at the dinner table even when the day’s race didn’t go quite as planned.  I’m sure he will be missed by many when he hangs up the velo, but for now he’s still an important part of the team and enjoying life as a cyclist.

Sitting in the back of the team car on the auto route heading south to Angouleme, I feel completely depleted of all the fuel I took in over the last 24hrs, the legs have aching feeling like a nasty migraine, but I feel more than satisfied to be have been back in the peloton today after over three months on the side line. 

It sure didn’t take long to get back into race mode as usual in most French races they went from the blocks and didn’t let up for a 100k.  With all the French pro tour teams, the French continental teams with riders always trying to show there hand, throw in a few Japs and Belgy’s, and you have fare shit fight as you twist an turn on the small country roads of central France. 

Chateauroux is a fairly flat area of France, so it was a nice race to get back into the swing of things.  Though at 200k long and the peloton spending most of its time at over 50 clicks an hour it was always going to touch up the legs a little.  At the 100k mark I swung my musette, or feed bag in English over my shoulder and saw five guys take off up the road, and thought to myself ah magic a little respite before it’s on for the finish.  So I took some food on board, a pear tart for that matter mmmmm gota love them, and took a quick nature stop.  I wasn’t back in the pack for more than a minute and my radio starts crackling in my ear.  I just made out what Yvon the director said, but wasn’t sure so I turned to my team mate to confirm and he nods, “oui Tim tu doit allez roulez” that pretty much means on the front son, and don’t let that gap get to big eh.  Dam I was sure I saw a white jersey ride away in that break, but obviously not.  Though I wasn’t alone two of my team mates joined me and we got stuck into our work as the wind blew from the wrong direction.   

70km later I found myself flapping in the wind on the back of the bunch but wasn’t too worried, my job was done and there was 10k to go.  The fellas didn’t quite finish it off today but that’s bike racing, you win a little and you loose a lot.   

So a day off tomorrow which will be spent with the feet up, a little ride and a good massage before hooking back into it on Tuesday.  

An on final but not surely not least you probably haven’t heard yet, though my flattie and wingman Pete stacked it pretty bad at a race near the Pyrenees yesterday and is in hospital with displaced and fractured vertebrae.  He’s ok but could be there for a while and definitely out for quite some time. So flick the man a txt if you can, I’m sure he’d be more than grateful, as there are only so many movies you can watch while hanging out solo in a foreign hospital.  Cycling is a tough sport at the best of times, but it sure can knock you down sometimes and normally when you least need it.  

Thanks for reading, will let you know how the legs pull up in a day of two.  Cheers

Tim

Well summer has surely arrived here in France as the mercury has been rising often well above 30, or as the French call it “La chaleur”, the heat.  It’s just after nine pm and as I sit here typing away in our apartment I have the feeling it could be another restless sleep in the sticky air.

Since I last got on here I’ve spent a few hours in the chamy rolling round the country side here in the Tarn Region.  For those of you who know the Waikato back home in NZ, the Tarn is quite similar with its rolling green hills and flat stretches which are always good for the old recovery ride.  Though the terrain can also get a little more on the mountainous side here too, head out along the Tarn valley and you are inundated with climbs from 5 to 8km long to keep you occupied.  It sure has to be one of my favourite rides around here, as you get to roll out on the valley floor following the river and are usually fairly sheltered from the Tarn wind.  If you caught the first time trial at the Tour de France this year and saw all the crashes on the descent before they flew along a valley road that is exactly where I’m talking about.  Then when you’re feeling ready to get into your work you can turn up a number climbs and make a nice lap out of it. 

Lately it’s been a real treat as there has always been someone around to head out and enjoy the scenery with.  With Pete being here most of the time with just one day races the last few weeks, a few of the other kiwis from the area have been up to visit us. Then there are the local French pros and of course the old French fellas on the weekend morning rides who are always a reliable start to a long day. Though if you are ever in the area, more company is always welcome for a spin or a quiet red for that matter, they make a pretty good bot around here. We are always keen. 

With all this training your sure need some good fuel and France isn’t really a bad place to be when you have a bit of a hunger on.  Pictured below is our local Mie Caline Boulangerie, or bakery in English.  Owned by a cycling fanatic Jean Pierre and his wife Loraine they always have a fresh loaf of our favourite the “Pave 7 céreal” waiting for us after a long day on the velo ready to be made into some huge sambo’s.  If it’s been a big day a slice of “flan” which is pretty much just custard cake, always goes down well too.  Though I think Jean Pierre and Loraine are more concerned about our weight than we are so they make sure we’ve done at least 4hrs before they sell us the real good stuff. 

After a few solid weeks of solid training I am not far away from my first race back; this weekend I am off up to Chateauroux for the Classic de l’Indre which is followed up a day later by the four day tour Poitou Charentes.  It will be an interesting few days as I find my feet in the peloton again but I am really looking forward to getting back to the race atmosphere and catching up with my team after quite a lay off. 

18 983km and two 12hr flights from home in New Zealand and you can find Albi, France, and for me it is now a home away from home during the nine month season of European professional cycling.  Home to 56,000 people and now two skrawny kiwi cyclists from Te Awamutu, as my good mate Pete Latham and I have set ourselves up with a sweet two bedroom apartment right in Centre Ville. 

Albi, like most of France is rich with history, and home to the biggest brick cathedral in the world, Le Cathedral de Sainte Cécile.  Construction took 200 years starting in 1282, and stands at 80m high.  There is also many distinct buildings from the 16^th century, where they used hard wood beams like railway sleepers for the structure then filled in the walls with brick and mortar.  They look to be still holding strong today so they must have known what they were doing back then. 

Though there are only the two of us anglais riders here there a couple of other French professionals as well, Stephane Poulhies who rides for AG2R and Cedric Courtuly who is with Agrutibel.  I rode with Stephane for two years as an amateur on Albi Velo Sport, where he was a very solid wing man for me.  A true sprinter, he doesn’t like the hills too much, so I would help lead him out in the mass bunch kicks and he’d lend me a hand when it got a little lumpy.   

Stephanes family have also been a huge help to me over the past few years, staying with them often in 2005, eating a lot of great French cuisine prepared by Stephs mum Christine but, nearly every week last year, and this year Jean Luc, Stephs Dad has done more airport runs to Toulouse and back for me than I can count.  We now however have our on set of wheels I can get there myself. 

That is another story, the fellas new ride, a 2006 Renualt Megane.  Never been a big fan of French cars but when you have a limited budget there’s not a lot you can do.  So far so good, though since buying the green machine officially it belongs to nobody, as while I was back in NZ slumming on the couch, Pete tried to register the car with the local authorities, but once again the ancient French systems got in the way.  Pete thought he had all he needed with him to get the job done, registration papers filled out, apartment lease papers, gas bill for proof of residence, and signatures from all parties, but it wasn’t to be, as my name was on the gas bill.  The madame made it very clear and blunt by the sounds of it that that is just not possible.  So for now we will just have stay on the low down until we can both head in there and let her know how it is. 

Like any other town around the world with a strong cycling culture, Albi has its old fellas bunch rides on weekend mornings.  They are always a good way to start a long ride and that’s where you’ll find me tomorrow morning.  I’ll report again soon and let you know how many of them try to half wheel me along the way haha. 

Catchya Tim 

Below are a few pics from around town, the first being from our balcony looking down the street to the town square, a quiet beer at the square, and some of Albi’s scenery.