41 cyclists flew in to Lyon Airport on the BA flight from London. The two marshal’s vans had also brought down all the participants’ bikes as the airlines could not cope with this number and so by 12.00, all the bike boxes were spread around the P2 car park at Lyon airport, bikes were being rebuilt and parent’s were keeping their children’s eyes averted as the cyclists changed into the inevitable lycra.   Then we were off, route instructions to hand, heading to Voiron, home of the Chartreuse liqueur and the start of the mountains proper. Not far into the route, map reading skills were tested to the full with a right hand turn in a busy poorly signed village. Sensing the group I was in had missed it, we saw another, faster group coming back towards us. Then, like a swarm of bees trying to find a lost hive, the group went down side roads, splitting up only to meet again at other junctions, trying to find a short cut back to the proper route. The fine weather and good spirits meant that everyone enjoyed the humour of the situation and the error took us to yet more new sights that are so common place in France. Cycling through an off-route village, we saw the most stunning multi turreted chateau with old castle walls on a rocky outcrop above it.

We all made it to Voiron in time for a welcome beer and an excellent meal of local goats cheese salad and lamb. The Sunday morning was again fine and we cycled down through the walnut groves along side the river Isere that flows down from Grenoble before crossing it and starting our first serious climb. However, rounding the last bend before the steep ascent, we were met by a sign confirmed by the locals who explained that an avalanche had closed the road. This was disappointing as the gorge we were about to climb was one of the most beautiful of the Vercors range renowned for the way the road was, at one point, literally cut out of the mountain so that the base, the side and the roof of the road were all rock with just one open side and a vertical drop beneath. So re-routed to another 400 meter higher climb, we struggled up our first mountain and I thanked my blessing for the triple “granny” gear recommended by a friend before the Challenge. The Vercors are a spectacular range of mountains although the whole route leant itself to superlatives. Onto Die that night, pronounced Dee, however the way it was spelt perhaps more accurately reflected the state of some of the cyclists at the end of a long day.

The Roman town of Vaison la Romaine was our next destination in preparation for mont Ventoux, riding through the very attractive countryside of the Drome and Vaucluse and seeing for the first time a definite Provencale feel to the buildings. The only serious col to climb that day was a mere1075 meters high, though it seemed much higher! The final descent into Vaison gave us our first view of mont Ventoux, a great whale of a mountain emerging from the plains of Provence with its spiky summit topped by a rocket like communications tower. On arrival at our hotel for the night, we were informed that the mont was closed due to late season snow. However a rapid recce by van clarified that it was only the top part of our route that was still closed above 1500 meters and carefully positioned marshals’ vans could give us the support we needed. An early start, a steady grind and occasional stops made the mountain feasible although one of the Trustees, who is super fit, decided to run up it. Two thirds of the way up, there is a steeper section and all in all, it is one of the hardest climbs for cyclists in France, however, all but one of the group made it and the 21 km descent made up in part for the, in my case, three hour climb.

The following day led the group back into the southern maritime Alps and the truly spectacular Gorge de Verdon, also know as the French Grand Canyon. After a steady climb from the azur lake that provides much of the water for the Riviera coast, we stayed at La Palud where the route incorporated a circuit of view points of the upper gorge where the river had cut deeply through the rock like a cheese slicer through a thick chunk of cheddar, and there was of course another significant climb. The descent was however worse with me hanging onto the breaks and trying not to look over the side of the single carriageway road with a vertical drop into the gorge below.

The penultimate day saw us continuing east into the Alps, up another spectacular gorge. The Gorge de Dalius is largely made of a red rock and has one shaped like an lady’s head perched on the side of the road. One cyclist was enjoying the view, lost concentration and was suddenly surprised when another cyclist rode alongside. So much so that he ran into the two foot high stone wall that stops people erring over the edge. However as a cyclist, he fell onto the top of the wall and his momentum took his top half over the wall, being restrained by his cycle shoes locked into the pedals. He ended up looking down a vertical drop several hundred meters into the gorge and the raging torrent below!   That night we stayed at the ski station of Valberg having climbed again to 1670 meters and the unseasonal weather that had threatened us all week meant that there were some very wet and cold cyclists staggering into the hotel that night.

The final day’s run was to be a descent into Nice and the Mediterranean. Sun beds had been booked on the beach, a bar had been primed. Shorts and tee shirts were to be the order of the day and we were expecting a well earned party in the evening sunshine to celebrate the week’s achievement. The rain set in in the late morning and the ascent to avoid the busy road into Nice turned out to be steeper than anticipated. The route, undoubtedly magnificent, gave more the impression of a tropical rainforest rather than the cote d’azur, cycling up, through and above the clouds that clothed the peaks and sat below the road. The temperature however was not very tropical and the descent after a quick omelette at a 1000m high restaurant was chillingly cold. At the bottom, a sign to Nice and a continuing downhill route saw four of us pedalling quickly to get warm, consequently missing, possibly fortunately, another steep ascent for a more minor road into Nice.

Arriving back at the main road, albeit missing the worst part of a dual carriageway, the only thing to do was to accept the busy traffic and pedal like mad. This we did taking it in turn to lead the group and grateful for the slip stream tow when not, until a bang and a suddenly wobbly rear wheel told me that a spoke had broken and my days ride was over, about 10 km before the finish line on the Promenade des Anglais. Saying goodbye to my group, I carried my bike to the café near which I was fortunate to break down, called for a support van and ordered a Cognac to warm up. By the time I got into Nice an hour after the rest, the rain had put an end to any ideas of a swim, and bones had to be warmed in the shower rather than by sun bathing on the beach. However the celebratory feast still took place that evening on the beach and the sun made a brief guest appearance, and the bars and restaurants in old Nice and by the Port made a very enjoyable end to a first class challenge.

Bikes were packed by 8.45 the next day, the cyclists were taxied to the airport and the vans set off north, returning to the UK on the Sunday.  Bikes were off-loaded in Southampton and Fordingbridge and the vans returned to our generous Van Hire sponsor Abacus near Bournemouth.

We have raised in excess of £50,000 for worthy causes and stretched all the cyclists, even the fittest about as far as they could go, perhaps just a bit too far in some cases. But it is meant to be a Challenge and an adventure and everyone made it in tremendous spirit.