Ahhhh yes... winter has hit. 
Now doesn't that really make you want to ride?
I got my ass up bloody early. Had something to eat and straddled the bike to ride off into the night. The sun wasn't up yet, and I was off for the 20 or 30 min ride to Le Poinconnet where the guys meet to go riding. The forecast said it would be 6degrees at 7am this morning, and I had felt pretty good about that. IT was a much better number than the -3 of last week. But as I rode through town and saw cars totally iced over, I understood a little more why I was freezing my ass off.
Yesterday was a bit of an odd day. I haven't been on the bike since last sunday, and was starting to feel really really guilty about it. I'm thinking on go on the Sunday group ride here in Chateauroux again, but I would need at least 1 ride during the week if I want to do that. So with no motivation what so ever I finally hauled my ass out on the bike. What the F***? I felt like a rocket ship! I was flying. Nice high steady heart-rate that was easy to keep high, nice fast pace with well retimed pedal stroke. I don't get it. Now I wasn't using the Power-Tap, and I'm pretty sure that the numbers wouldn't have been phenomenal. But they wouldn't have been bad I can assure you. As I neared home I started to worry a bit. I often have a really really great day just before I get sick. And Gaelle my girl-friend is sick at the moment, so... I'm worried that might be it.
Oh well, any cold I get will be taken care of once I hit the hot and sunny little island over the other side of the world!!!!!
Well there you go, that's it, the Tour organizers have released the official route of the 2008 Tour, and guess what... it goes right though GAILLAC. Yep, once again the Tour is coming home, to the cycling Mecca that is the Tarn and the Gaillac region. Long live the vineyards, the wine, the cheese, the sun, the rolling roads, the.... well, for those of you who know the area because you have come over to see me, you know what I'm talking about, and for those of you who haven't been over... well... you'll never know. :-)
about my being up so early (and according to him, 5:45am is not early), and I was off to the train station to head up to Paris and cover the Tour presentation for Pezcyclingnews.com http://www.pezcyclingnews.com/?pg=fullstory&id=5414&status=True
Evans pulls his "smell a fart" face at Sim... Sorry mate!
The last few days in Cameroon where fun. The first day after the race pretty rained all day, so we got pretty bored sitting in the hotel room, but the next day we went out to some of the markets and had a good look around. Oh yeah, and we had a big resentation with the sports minister, TV etc etc. But I'll tell you about that some other time. They gave us all gifts, so 
I came home with a nice big wooden mask! Since then I have been taking time off the bike, and have even started running a bit. Well, I've been twice. On Sunday I went out for 3.5 hours with a group ride here in Chateauroux. A guy from Cameroon told me about it, so I met him there. We had a good ride and a good chat about our time in Africa.
Stage 2, UCI Africa Tour 2.2 GP Chantal Biya, Sangmelimar - Yaounde
windows. These windows were almost like glass Venetian blinds, meaning that both our bedroom and bathroom basically had open wholes to a corridor on one side and the restaurant on the other side. So… as you can imagine, it was noisy to say the least. This room had no air-conditioning, and for some reason had 2 big buckets of water in the bathroom. We never figured out what the buckets of water were for. The water from the taps however was very dirty. After taking a shower the bottom of the bath was covered in sand deposits from the water. To think the locals actually drink that stuff. Anyway, back 
to our noisy room. To try and drown the noise to get some sleep, and also seeing as there was no Air conditioning, we turned on the big fan that sat in a corner of the room. On the lowest setting the fan made the most horrific noise, on the highest setting you felt like you were standing by a jet engine and the hotel room was about to take off.
up pretty quick. Especially as there were nothing but hills from the gun. Literally! The first hill started about 200 meters after the start line. Luckily Richard was chomping at the bit to go, and after a few unsuccessful breakaway attempts that contained either myself or Scott Chalmers, we were very happy to see Richard in the move that actually did get away. Finally we could relax, sit in and shoot the shit for a few hours. Eat, tell jokes, talk to some of the other guys in the peloton, find out a little about where they come from and generally dick around… (all the while making sure Scotty was well taken care of of course.) And frankly that’s what happened. We had a good day out in the sunshine. Scotty was nice and safe hanging out at the back of the peloton along with the yellow jersey, taking it easy. We were having so much fun it wasn’t long before some of the other teams came up to ask us where the hell we were from. They knew we were a French team, but couldn’t help but notice us pissing our selves laughing in English. Obviously 
with all the Germans and Dutch in the peloton, English was the common language. Scotty spent half his time barking joke orders at us, and the other half throwing water bottles to the spectators and watching the flurry of people go chasing after them.
believe it or not that was hard enough in itself.
went to our rooms and wait for info… it eventually came. Turns out the stage was to be 138km, and we weren’t leaving from Yaounde, we had a transfer of 100km to do before the start. We were to be down in the parking lot with bikes and bags at 8am. So we packed our bags etc, and went down to the parking lot for 8am. The race start was at 10 am in Ngolbang. After much waiting around, our team cars finally showed up. The team cars were private cars… people with cars were being paid by the organizers for the use of their cars… only they were driving. So the caravan was to be nothing but inexperienced drivers who know nothing about cycling and rules of the caravan… great.
start we had no idea. With only 1 car per team there was not enough room. At the time we were all supposed to be leaving, the truck drivers emerged and got in their trucks… spent about 30 mins maneuvering out of a jam packed parking lot full of cars, bikes, bags and riders, and they drove off into the city… where were they off to? The bikes weren’t loaded or anything. They were going to get gas. They had been parked there since last night, but were NOW going to get gas, at out supposed time of departure.
loaded onto of mini-buses (no bike racks) and thrown into the back of the trucks. Most of the riders disappeared into the hotel to get bike bags and boxes to try and protect the bikes, as they were getting scratched and shuved like you wouldn’t believe. In fact one minivan actually drove over 3 of AVC Ais-Haribo Cofidis' bikes while trying work his way thorugh the parking lot... that got everyone excited!
There was a LOT of waiting around going on...
Eventually all the riders pilled onto this absolutely shocking bus. We just about fit. Try to get our luggage in the holds under the bus was fun, as the doors didn’t close, and the floor was totally rusted through. Everyone pulled out of the hotel 30 mins before the supposed start of the race. We drove through the town for about 3 or 4 mins, then stopped. Everyone looked around. Someone said we all had to get off and get onto a different bus. Obviously thinking they were joking, it took a while before we all got off, got our bags, took 2 steps over to the other bus. Now admittedly the new bus was in much much better shape. The windscreen may have been so cracked you could hardly see through it, it was way better that the first. However, it was much much smaller and there weren’t enough seats for all the riders. Great. So I ended up standing in the door-well, getting overheated by the engine right next to me. I also got really tired and car sick… it was one of the worst trips ever.
The first bus (seen here) was a shocker, the 2nd bus was better but the trip was still pretty bad.
Eventually we got to the start town 2 hours after the race was supposed to have started. We hadn’t eaten for 6 hours, and that had only been 2 slices of plain bread. Just to add insult to injury, as we got off the bus, got our bags, got our bikes and found our team car to try and get changed and ready, the organizers were running around blowing whistles at us and yelling at us to hurry up, “the start is in 10 mintues”. Well… bugger that! We were more than 2 hours late, underfed and badly transported, we were not in any hurry what so ever.
We got changed and got on our bikes. Starving hungry and feeling pretty car-sick. With 138km of a UCI race ahead of us, things were not looking good for some of us. Scott Chalmers and myself rode around looking for anyone with something to eat. A few locals had arms full of bananas they had picked from nearby trees; but by the team the riders go to them, they were almost all gone. That’s about the time we realized it was actually a hot day. We hadn’t had anything to drink in the bus, either because we didn’t have anything, or because we felt too sick. Yes, this was an adventure.
The Race:
Finally we were off. This is what we had come for. Real racing, point to point in a new and exciting country. Although for a few of us, (myself included) our motivation was well down in the dumps on the start line, after just a few pedal strokes, the past for forgotten and we got into the rythme and pleasure of riding and racing. It felt great. It had been a fair while since I had done a truly international race. The French peleton is always very international, but everyone in France races “French style” and you pretty much know what’s coming. I’ve raced in the US fairly recently, but although that is fun and different for me, it is far from international. I guess the last real international events I did were back in 2004. There’s no better feeling that knowing you are racing in a field the represents most of the 4 corners of the world. What’s more, this field also had plently of African riders, a pleasure we rarely get. It is rare to see that many African teams outside of Africa. What does that mean and why was I so happy about that? Because it is different, new, and adds a truly exotic element to the race. It also means a more varied and unpredictable style of racing.
As it turned out most of from Castelsarrasin where feeling really strange. As I have already said a bunch of us were feeling pretty rough from vaccinations, most of us had also not really ridden all week, then there was the flight and the fact that we hadn’t really ridden since being in Cameroon. None of us could figure out what was going on. We didn’t know if we felt good or not. The legs felt heavy, the lungs felt strange, but yet we weren’t really struggling.
As things got going, the attacks came thick and fast very early on. The only truce came a few kms into the race where a big crash took down a fair few riders. Everyone called a general time out as we waited to make sure everyone was ok and back in the race. Our New Zealander Scott narrowly missed hitting the ground by taking his bike through the jungle. Scott, always a cheerful and jokey chap, had a good laugh telling us about his narrow escape and little jungle-biking escapade.
Once everyone was back the action took over again and we were all in the hurt-box. We had to be in every break… and we were, until a break with 6 or 7 riders went up the road and we weren’t in it. I remember thinking: “shit I hope our DS isn’t getting this info over race radio and cursing us for missing it.” As it turns out, that is the ONLY piece of info they got over race radio… so he never heard about us being in the race winning move, but heard all about us missing that 1 break. Oh well.
That break came back pretty quickly, and it wasn’t long before the peloton was starting to split apart on the repetitive climbs. I spent a little bit of time off the front, and it wasn’t long before a large group came up to us from the peloton. In this group was Scotty Lyttle. They went off the front and we were getting dropped pretty quickly. After a while I bridged back up to Scotty’s group. I think there about 5 or 6 of us at that stage. I was feeling pretty buggered. Scott wasn’t feeling great either. Seeing as Scott was in that move, I got myself to the front and started working as best I could, hoping to keep the group away and have Scotty in a good position. After my own recent results I was feeling pretty confident myself. Sadly things split up again a few km down the road and I was shot out the back of the group. Scotty however was still there going strong. Then the peleton split behind us, a large group went up the road, goodness knows what actually happened, it was chaos. All I know is that when it came down to it. Scotty was off the front in a good 14 (ish) man group with a couple of Unibet guys, a very strong Peter Van-Agtmaal etc etc. Then there was a group of about 20, that we shall call the peleton, then a group that we’ll call the Groupetto. This is where I was, along with my trusty teammates, James Spragg, Scott Chalmers and Adrien Calatayud. Richard Brunet was having a great ride and was up in the 2nd group on the road not far behind Scotty. 
We ended up about 15 mins behind the leaders, and rode through the Cameroon countryside joking, having fun and enjoying the scenery. We had to have a few harsh words with some of the guys in the Groupetto… we proud ourselves on being the rulers of the Groupetto. A few guys were riding a little too hard on the front, and were stringing us out, and some of the African riders were getting dropped. That isn’t the point of the Groupetto. The point of the Groupetto is that there is safety in numbers, and that if we all stick together we can make it through the stage and be in good enough shape to fight another day. Eventually we had to put 2 or 3 of us on the front and set the pace. Our yelling didn’t pay off, so we went up to dictate the pace… nice and slow. Come the finish a few riders starting attacking… we have NO idea why, we were 15 minutes behind the leaders and had nothing to fight for. The UCI points didn’t go that deep, so that pissed us off a little bit, but whatever. It was a good ride. The crowds were unbelievable as we went though towns. They were 4 or 5 rows deep in town, and there were people all the way along the course. Even out in the middle of nowhere, people would emerge out of the jungle and cheer us on. It was really interesting and moving to see everyone go crazy every time they saw a Cermoon National rider. People on the side of the road would yell out “where are the black riders, we want to see more black riders.” Some guys would stand there with a stick, piece of bamboo or massive machete and point out all the black riders as we rode past. You really got an impression of what national pride, and history means to the Cameroon people. It was all a very good life experience.
Some people on the side of the road picked bananas and handed them to us. How refreshing is that! There is such an abundance of bananas over there, that spectators can litteraly just turn-around, pick them and give you a feed. I remember at one point seeing a Cameroon National ride in front of me take a banana from a spectator… he already had 7 bananas in his back pocket.
The finish of the stage was hilly, with 5 or 6 good hills before finishing up a 7% climb to the finish line. Scotty, up front, found himself in a leading group of about 5 or so riders. He got dropped 3 or 4 times on the final hills, but made his way back into the group each time. Come the finish he was monstrous. Peter Van-Agtmaal of the Netherlands rode of for solo victory (also taking the best sprinter and best climber!!!!), Julien Gonnet (a frequent participant of African UCI races) took 2nd. Third over the line was actually a German rider, who was quickly disqualified, as he bridged up to the leader break by hanging onto his team car. Scotty had ridden away from everyone else and, with the German’s disqualification, Scotty was 3rd, and was also best young ride. A very good and Solid day for Scotty and for the team.
The podium was a standard procedure… except for the Cameroon army who were there as security because of all the ministers and big-wigs present. The numerous press were trying to get photos of the podium procession, but the Army didn’t like it and tried to push them back… it wasn’t long before the truncheons came out and a nasty looking fight very nearly erupted… it was stopped by a member of the organizing comity who broke them up saying “we can’t have this here and now!” I can only wonder what it would have been like if there hadn’t been so many Europeans present.
Back to sweat it out in the bus to our hotel for the night.
The podium was held inside a gated and secured complex. Even us riders had to have passes to get in. After the podium we all had a good feed, but on in the local government building/town hall. Then it was back into the wonderful busses (where I actually got a seat this time) to sweat our lives away on the hot and muggy drive to that night’s hotel in Sangmelima, birthplace of the Cameroon president Mister Paul Biya.
Shit that's a long post...
James Spragg warms up round a dodgy corner.
We did a few laps of the course, supposedly to warm up, but there were so many people in the road it was impossible.
As you can see, this was a VERY serious warm-up...
The event was to be run in heats. 1 rider from each team per heat, 2 riders eliminated per lap, and the winner of each heat went through to final to fight it out for the yellow jersey. This event had no bearing on GC, and was just as a down-town showcase and to see who would wear the jersey for the first real stage.Presentation: Scott Lyttle, James Spragg, Sim Green, Scott Chalmers, Adrien Calatayud and Richard Brunet
Adrien Calatayud was in the first heat. He looked flippin serious, and although he was all out, it soon became apparent that this was all just a big laugh for everyone. Super strong French Team AVC Aix Haribo Cofidis pissed themselves laughing through entire event... as did most of us. Adrien won the first heat and was thus through to the final, meaning the rest of us no longer needed to try, we could just laugh and have fun all evening.
As the heats went on all the DSs soon realized that the Cameroon riders were suffering a bit, and it wouldn't be right to have no Cameroon riders in the final heat. So by the time myheat came around, I was supposed to help one of the Cameroon riders and try and get him through to the final. Most of the European teams had all agreed on this. Cameroon had invited us, had paid for everything, and in all honesty the real racing would start tomorrow... besides, with the crowd that was onthe streets of down town Yaoundé, you had to give them something to cheer about.
So, as I rolled up to the start line, Stephane Bonsergeant turned to me and said "you know what our orders are?"
I said: "Yep, no problem!" Stephane won the Univest Grand Prix back in 2004 when I did it in that terrible hurricane. Steph is now Pro with Bretagne Armor Lux, and would go on to finish 6th in Paris-Bourges a few days after Cameroon.
Steph then looked at the guy to my left and asked him. The guy was German and didn't understand. So Steph said: "You know the orders? No win today. We let Cameroon rider win."
The German looked shocked. "Why?" he said. A few of us argued with him... most of the arguments came through me as English was the common language. Eventually the German, feeling somewhat bullied by a majority of French guys all around him and probably thinking ahead to the days to come, started to concede. He was probably hoping to get in a break in the next couple days, and he knew dam well if he messed with us we would never let him get away.
So after a while the German looked at me and said: ".. maybe.... maybe..."
I told him I approved of his change of spirit and reexplained that we were in Africa, on their home ground, and considering this stage had no bearing on the overall classification of the race,
we owed it to Cameroon to have some of their riders perform well, in the capital city, in front of the ministers, government and other big-wigs.
Finally the German said " ok, but he has to be good, he has to be at least 2nd, I'm not just giving it to him." Knowing that the rest of us knew it would be ok. We would get ourselves eliminated and make sure a Cameroon rider was there to battle it out.
Bit by bit we all got eliminated, making sure we got out just in time so that we were still there to remind the German we were watching him, but still making sure a Cameroon rider was in the mix. Stephane Bonsergeant did a stunning sprint as a Cameroon rider nipped him for the line. The crowd went crazy. Stephe could have easily taken the sprint, but he is such a class and experienced rider he faked the sprint beautifully.
In the end the German had to give it to the Cameroon rider, who actually had quite a good kick.
He was the first Cameroon rider to get through to the final, and the crowd went totally crazy. Steph Bonsergeant and I were so happy, it seemed like we had just won a big race ourselves. Once you saw the reaction from the crowd there could be no doubt that what we had orchestrated was the thing to do. The heats went on and more and more Cameroon riders made it through to the final.
The Final:
The final was actually a good mix of riders, teams and countries. By this stage of the evening we had all decided it would be really great to have a Cameroon rider in the Yellow jersey. Luckily we had gotten rid of most of the "pain in the ass" riders who were only interested in themselves, and everyone was agreed on a Cameroon rider getting yellow.
As the laps unfolded before our eyes and Sanda Joseph of Cameroon didn't get eliminated, the tension in the crowd, and the atmosphere gradually until it reached electric heights like I have never seen. As Sanda Joseph made it to the last lap, the crowd was crazier than anything I have ever seen, even at the Tour. A lap later, Sanda crossed the line and took the yellow jersey. People started running down the road towards him. The poor bugger got knocked off right after the line. His bike was a bit damaged but he was OK. That's how crazy the crowd was. There were so many people that the rest of us were stack, jammed against our bikes and teammates unable to move an inch. This is without a doubt the best cycling memory of my life. It was nuts... they partied and sang well into the night.
We rolled back to the hotel that evening on a total high. It turned out to be a great event, a great way to start a stage race, to showcase the teams and bicycle racing to the crowds and to TV, without the high risks and dangers of a normal crit. What's more, the racing was constant as it lasted a few hours, but it wasn't just people going round and round, there was a sprint on every lap, and what amounted to the excitement and thrill of a stage finish every 5 or 6 laps.
I was cynical about the Elimination crit at first... but it was wicked cool!
And let me just say, that although we somewhat orchestrated Sanda Joseph's victory, the guys a good rider, who regularly figures in the top 10 of UCI races... he deserved it!
Proper Shanty-Town...
Sorry guys, you are not on the flight list. Go over there and wait...
Air-traffic controle? more like jungle-traffic controle.
"Passports please: so we can make copies and sell them on the back market"
And that is the bigger and more comfortable bus. Luggage is caried African style.
"Bicycles, handle with care", hmmm.... 
Pile in boys, we can get another 3 teams in here!
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