Time 6:35
Climb 1864
Cols Osquich
Weather Very hot
Exhausted by my long ride I had a very good nights sleep. I awoke and breakfasted. I was, by a comfortable margin, the youngest person in the hotel. Dax is famous for its "cures", a popular continental experience that involves spending time drinking or bathing in smelly water. Despite my fatigue I did not particularly relish trying this out so I set off, somewhat excited as today was going to be the day I did my first "big" hill in the Pyrenees.
It took me a while to escape from Dax but once I did I made good progress until I tried taking a short cut. I should have known better as a rule of mine is that short cuts make for long journies but I ignored at my peril. My map showed a route that meant cutting off a section of road by going up hill. The hill was steep and at the to came to a crossroads. This wasn't on the map so I followed Sigrists law of being lost: (If lost and at a crossroads take the uphill route as if you are wrong you wont feel too bad). So I headed uphill and hit a farm with a loose mad, albeit small, dog. This chased me and I sprinted to the summit then hurtled down the other side. This bought me to:
- Another farm
- A dead end
- Another dog on the loose, this time very big.
The latter did not chase me. It simply eyed me up and down as if deciding which bit would taste best. With as much dignity as possible I did a u turn and sprinted back up hill before it could make up its mind. Exhausted I reached the top of the hill. And the farm. And the mad loose dog. That chased me again over the other side. I hammered as fast as I could and shot back down and through the crossroads.
After a while I stopped. Completely lost. Thanks to my compass I knew which direction I was travelling in but not which of the roads that made a maze on my map. I carried on, hoping to find some habitation, free of dogs, that would get me back on track.
Eventually I came to a stone masons. Several chaps were hard at work inside but they stopped to show me the correct route. This got me to a village where I managed to sneak into an Intermarche 2 minutes before closing to grab a bite of lunch.
It was getting increasingly hot as I pedalled on. To add to my woes my gear changing was becoming tricky as it seemed to be getting difficult to get the chain to stick to one cog on my rear cassette. Eventually the chain came off . Putting it back on I got a rude surprise. It seemed to be coming to pieces. A number of the little pins that hold the links together where loose and poking out. I guess this was the consequence of all the km plus the rain in Belgium.
Fortunately I had stopped just in front of a petrol station. So I was able to carry out a messy bodge by using my multi-tools chain tool to poke the pins back in then buy some oils and cleaning rags for the bike and my hands.
I carried on, negotiating my way through a few rue barres until eventually I took a turn leading to the col Osquich. This is a diddy col, a 3rd cat 500m pimple. However it was my first official col of the tour and I approached it with some trepidation, the more so as it was getting very hot.
There were helpful signs at the side of the road telling me distance covered and % gradient to come and I counted these down until I reached the summit. There was a restaurant there and I stopped for a beer and to take in the view, basking in the sun and the glory of making the climb.
After a while I continued to Mauleon. I had booked into a hotel in the centre of the village. The hotel was great, very old and feeling like a castle. Dinner was had in an open courtyard at the centre of the hotel and I ate and drank like a lord, looking forward (and with some fear) to the next day when I would be climbing a real mountain for the first time in my life.
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