Alpe d'Huez September 2011

I managed to sneak a bike ride into the family holiday once again, and made it to Alpe d'Huez.

I was tired and hungry at the start and got a headache half way up. the whole experience wasn't very pleasant, and I think I left a lung on the last hairpin.

Although this was shorter than Ventoux it felt a whole lot more aggressive, and I have no idea how anyone (Matt) can do this, and Galibier, and the rest of the stage, all in a day. Definitely not rubbish.

Anyway, it took me 65 minutes dead, needless to say the views were incredible, as was the relief when I stopped.

See y'all on the 16th...

Great Western Sportive

the last one before the Etape. The 170km price tag looked a bit hairy on a blustery day and starting in the first group that did not show much interest riding hard into the breeze. In the end it turned into a great ride, seemingly endlessly zig zagging across The Ridgeway and taking in Avebury stones and at least one white horse. I was too knackered to work out which one.

The group fizzled out by 90kms leaving me to slog on undrafted from there. Finished in 5 hours 45mins, 13th overall. Very pleased that a fat lad with a Duff Beer top got in amongst the stick insects.

Not rubbish enough

It is a lonely life in Team Rubbish these days. We have taken Rubbish to a new level by creating the first virtual cycling team. We have the blog, the email banter, the bikes, the photos and a huge number of out of date energy bars. All we don't do is cycle.

I have mistakenly continued to go out riding and seem to have lost my way. I am becoming distinctly unrubbish.

The mighty Rizzle 2011 (131kms) in 4 hours 29 mins and the SWRC Flyer (150kms) in 5 hours 21 mins. Both really good rides, lots of hills and a chance to employ my own unique strategy of heading off as though I am Fabien Cancellara, completely blowing up at half distance, and limping home in terrible pain.

I hope Rubbish get back in the saddle soon, it was more fun when we stopped every 15 minutes to adjust our saddles, have a wee and eat pies.

slutty italian

My hand slipped on ebay and i bought this. Unfortunately i dont think i'll ever get another day off again, so it will sit in my cellar with the other bikes i dont have time to ride (sigh).

Ventoux 2010

A few weeks ago while on holiday in the Ardeche with Liz and Marnie I decided to have a go at Ventoux after reading Lance's "It's not about the bike". It was 2 hours drive from where we were staying so I reckoned I could make a day trip of it on my own. I had been going out for an hour or two every morning near our gite and had found a little "col" to practice on, so wasn't totally out of shape, but was still so certain of failure that I decided to do the attempt in my trainers so it would be easier to walk when my legs gave up.
As soon as I pulled off the motorway in Provence I could see it in the distance, and started to wonder what the fuck I was doing - it was massive. I headed to Bedoin and got kitted up, then followed the signs through the village and checked the time. Based on what Neil and Alex had done I thought if I did actually make it, it would be good to beat 3 hours.
The first couple of miles were rubbish. It didn't feel like the climb had started yet, but I was already in a pretty low gear and had sore legs. Resigned to the fact that I was even shitter than anticipated, I slowed right down and just took in the scenery. A few minutes later I rounded the first proper hairpin and got an idea of what the next few hours would be like. I couldn't comprehend that this was it- no rest, no change of gradient, no easing off or you roll backwards- for about 12 more miles!.

I got in bottom gear, got my head down, and just took it all in. It's like bike perfection- twisting up through the immaculate pine forest, going over years of tour graffiti, occasionally glimpsing the deep blue sky. I decided I would have to move to Bedoin so I could do this every day for the rest of my life. It was amazing, and I was telling my eyes to hoover up as much information as possible so I wouldn't ever forget any of it.

After a while chugging along I tried to look out for a distance marker to judge my progress, and seemed to be doing pretty well, and if I thought about it I had been passing quite a lot of people, and nobody had passed me yet. It felt like I wasn't really doing anything, as if someone else was riding the bike and I just had to sit there, relax, and I would be delivered to the summit.
Soon the trees were thinning out and the ground was getting more dusty and gravelly, and after a while I got my first sight of the top since entering the forest. It didn't look that far, and I was still feeling worryingly fresh. I waited for the next marker and it confirmed that I only had about 6 or 7 km left, and I had only taken about an hour so far. If anything I was speeding up, and I was passing more and more people who looked like they should have been going a lot faster. One wiry older guy with a tea coloured tan said something French and encouraging as I passed him, and I decided to step on it a bit. I was waiting for my rookie enthusiasm to come and bite me on the arse.

Standing up to round the last hairpin I checked the time and couldn't believe it. When I came to a stop at the summit I checked again, and again, and realised i'd done it in a little over 1hour 43, and smiled like an idiot. The view from the top was fucking amazing.

Southern - WITH TIMES

Two men, one dream - to be RUBBISH

Southern sportive

Ian and I did the short route on the southern sportive on Sunday and thus actually enjoyed it! Last day of summer by the looks of things as well.

No pics of Ian but here is Neil post ride looking F R E S H.