On July 1st, 2000, three riders (Dan Buker, Patti Brown and Elana Cooper) completed a successful ascent of the infamous Mont Ventoux, a legendary climb that is a part of this year's Tour de France bicycle race.
The grade and starkness of Ventoux combine to make it a tough challenge, even for the Tour de France riders. The peak has witnessed some of the 97-year-old race's greatest climbing -- and one of its greatest tragedies. In 1967, British cyclist Tom Simpson, cheered on by fans under a burning sun, collapsed and died near the peak. A memorial to the cyclist sits approximately 2 kilometers from the summit.
Lance Armstrong, winner of the 1999 and 2000 Tours de France, has acknowledged the difficulty of achieving the summit, as well as its unusual lore. "I have heard the stories of Ventoux. I know about how Tom Simpson lost his life there, and have been there many times in training....The place doesn't look like anything else. It looks more like the moon than the mountains... The strangest thing is that it feels different than other climbs. There is no air, perhaps because there is no vegetation. It is a strange place."
The 21-kilometer (13.5-mile) climb is unforgiving, rising from 900 feet to an altitude of almost 6,300 feet. The grade averages 8 percent, with stretches reaching 10 and 12 percent. After 15 kilometers, the climb rises above the tree line and takes on its own, unique, moonscape characteristic. Even on the nicest of days, Mont Ventoux is a barren, desolate place.
Our journey began at approximately 8:00am. We departed from Vaison La Romaine and headed south 10 kilometers to Malaucene, a small town nestled at the base of the mountain. Upon reaching the town's center, we turned east and began the long climb to the summit.
We agreed to climb at our own paces, with planned stops occurring every 30-45 minutes. As I do with most significant climbs, I started in an easier gear than I needed. This proved to be a smart maneuver, as I quickly found a comfortable rhythm and settled into the slow but steady uphill spin.
For the duration of the ascent, Patti and I agreed to keep an eye out for each other; fortunately, our climbing paces were well matched. We spent the next two hours sharing occasional bits of conversation (and lots of flies -- but I will not get into that here).
Dan was the strongest climber of our group; there were many points along the route where I lost sight of him. However, we all regrouped during the agreed-upon stopping times. Dan was even kind enough to take a few photos of Patti and me during these thankful moments.
Our biggest concern on Mont Ventoux became the apparent lack of water sources. Prior to the climb, we were told that there would be plenty of spots to re-hydrate. However, this information proved to be incorrect. Our first water opportunity arose after nearly 15 kilometers of climbing. We stopped at a small chalet, perched alongside a decent view of neighboring Mont Seirin. After filling up water bottles and stopping for a few photographs, we got back on our bikes and made the final 6-kilometer push for the summit.
Upon our departure from the chalet, we began to clear the tree line. At this point, I started to feel the effects of oxygen deprivation. The final kilometers proved to be windy and steep, and the scenery turned from lush green to barren fields of stone. The large observatory (located at the summit) suddenly came into view. It was nearly 500 feet above us.
After what seemed like an eternity, we finally reached the summit. As the ground started to level off, I was both excited and relieved. Although I consider myself to be a decent climber, I was unsure as to whether I would be able to achieve my goal of attaining the summit. It was the toughest climb that I have ever completed on a bicycle. But it was also the most rewarding climb.
As I look back on my two-week vacation in France, I have numerous wonderful memories that hopefully will last a lifetime. But the memories I think I shall remember most will be the ones of my day spent on Mont Ventoux.
In my opinion, every passionate and dedicated cyclist, at some point in his or her life, should pay a visit to Mont Ventoux. It is a place that is filled with history, magic, and intrigue.
It is a strange place.