Lots of numbers from which to choose, but 3 is my favorite. A 3% grade seems downhill. A 5% grade seems flat. A 7% grade makes me sweat. But a 9% grade with a baby trailer is almost impossible. We averaged about 10 minuter per kilometer...until the grades turned from 7% to 9%...and averaged 15 minutes per this one particular kilometer until Jesse remembered that he forgot to unlock the breaks [Jesse's note: Just wanted to make the rest of the climb seem easier. Really.]
Despite swarms of cyclists, a tandem in the Pyrenees is an unusual sight. A racing tandem hitched to a bright green baby trailer is probably a first. As we pedaled our way up, we received encouragement, water, pushes, and the best honey dew melon either of has tasted from standers-by. Turns out we needed all of the above.
About 2.5 hours and 13 km into the climb, we both started to feel light-headed, dizzy, nauseous. Altitude? Effort? Too much Belgian beer? Then Jesse recognized a feeling that he hasn't had since the days when he was last in this poor of a physical condition: The Bonk. Nothing an emergency roadside-baguette-plus-brie (and sausage and olives and juice and canteloupe and prosciutto) stop wouldn't fix.
In the end, we made it to about 2 km from le sommet and the finish of tomorrow's final mountain stage. Yesterday, we watched Stage 16 from the other side of the mountain, and photographed Lance leading a break up the Tourmalet for what is almost certainly the last time.
Today, after a day and a half of sweltering heat, the mountain is blanketed in cool, grey clouds. Perfect for climbing over the hill and back, to Le Pic du Midi, the closest ski station, to load up on provisions.
Tomorrow, we'll either be parked somewhere along the last 2 km of Stage 17, or in the midst of the crowds at the top, watching the big screen. Wherever we are, we'll be drinking vin rouge and celebrating our first col of the trip (and possibly our last--we're thinking about sticking to the lowlands for the remainder).
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