I was greeted by freezing mist. The visibility up on the mountain varied throughout the day, but for most of the time everything was shrouded. It gave the place a rather ethereal look, but wasn't all that pleasant to stand around in.
I completed the last 2Km to the summit at a brisk pace, with all but my tent and sleeping gear still on the bike. I even managed a sprint finish, passing several guys on carbon racing bikes in the final 50meters of the col; eliciting cheers from the crowds.
I parked my bike up and prepared my traditional mess-tin Welsh cakes, during the only spell of sun-shine of the day.
Course invasion.
As usual I've met a variety of interesting people of various nationalities, including one confused young lady who was wearing an Australian flag, waving a German flag and when asked identified her self as being "from Belgium". Most of Norway is here; I have seen hundreds of Norwegians out today, which considering there are only 4 million or so to begin with is saying something. There are about Three-million Welsh people, and I've met 3 all day. I had a conversation with a few of them, but mostly just shouted "wooo Norway" as I swooped by on my bike. The presence of quite so many Norwegians is a little puzzling, as whilst I'm sure Norwegians like a nice bike ride as much as the next person, being as their country is frozen over for much of the year, I didn't expect cycling to be a major pass-time. Also, they possibly don't realise that the French are serving "Norwegian sandwiches".
By the time the caravan arrived, the freezing mist and poor visibility had returned.
You can hear from the sound track of the video how windy it is on the mountain, and that mist really is as cold as it looks.
The tour director and a many times former champion lay flowers at the monument to Jacques Goddet, who directed the Tour from 1936 until 1986.
Up on the Col I shared a bar of chocolate with a Mechanical engineer from Kent, and we watched most of the stage together. I am reliably informed that I was visible on the coverage of today's stage so I hope someone recorded it! (I'm the guy with the green hat, blue jacket and great big Welsh flag at the top of Col-de-Tormalet).
Welsh rider, Gerait Thomas is second over the Tormalet.
A rider in le tour grasps for news paper to pad his chest for the decent.
Unlike previous Tour de France missions, the need to stop and pack my tent after the race meant I got caught in the considerable traffic coming off the mountain. Descending over a vertical Km caused my rims to heat considerably, and great quantities of steam were produced when I sprayed them with water to cool them.
After two days of seriously cold conditions on the mountain I felt the need to get into a camp site where I could be reasonably warm for a while so I stopped at a camp site along the Col-de-Aspin (which preceded the Tormalet in today's stage).
A hearty meal of bread, cheese and a tomato minestrone, all of which I dragged up the Tormalet, and back down again with me.
I had prepared for wet weather, but not continuous wet weather (I've had only one day of sun-shine since I arrived on the continent) and so am running out of dry/warm clothing. I was thinking that this can't really be helped, because I've received exceptionally bad weather for this time of the year. But this line of reasoning got me thinking about Captain Scott's expedition to the Antarctic; modern research has shown that everything went against him, and that the weather that caused the disastrous end to his exploration was highly exceptional, which does not change in anyway the fact that the weather got them. Fortunately I'm in Southern France and things can't really get that bad, but my point is SOME SUN, PLEASE!!!!
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