Agnes is a Bitch ~108km

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(Really in Luzenac)

In what is turning into a common refrain, last night my legs felt so good - in spite of yesterday's extra travails - that I was taking the stairs 2 at a time, whereas this morning I had definitely lost the spring in my step. Part of the problem might've been due to insufficient sleep, as I had stayed up late to get this blog all caught up (and still missed a few things, like the memorial to Fabio Casartelli who died descending the Col de Portet d'Aspet and the fact that my roomie crashed - fortunately into the grass and not the road - yesterday).

At any rate, after a nice breakfast we set off upstream for a change, on the way to the base of the climb to the Col de Latrape - or at least I did; a host of others apparently chose to bypass some of today's climbs. Who knows - maybe they are the smart ones. The climb to today's first col afforded some views before veering off into the sun, which by early morning was already so hot that I rode on the left side of the road for a bit so I could stay in whatever shade was available.

The descent was OK - there were a few pebbles in one corner - but ended abruptly as I turned to access the climb to the Col d'Agnes, which at least according to the sign offered less than the 14% grade I was anticipating. In retrospect, I think the sign refers to the maximum grade over any kilometre, rather than maximum grade for any shorter distance, because for the first time I was going slow enough that flies became a problem, something I have heard others complain off but heretofore haven't experienced. The bottom of the ascent is quite steep and becomes only marginally easier towards the top, and all the while you have plenty of time look at the mountainous walls surrounding you and wonder just where in the heck the col could be. Of course it eventually appeared (after the road swung way over to what seemed like the other side of the valley), and for the first time this trip there were no others at the top when I arrived.

There followed a shitty descent - literally. Although I didn't see any livestock on the road, there was some in the fields; in any case what was on the pavement bore evidence they had been there before. Once again the ride down was abbreviated by a turn to climb the Port de Lers. Although the signs indicated the road was closed, I knew from previous experience that bicycles can often get by whatever obstructions there are, so I continued on and in due course met someone coming the other way who confirmed the road was passable, but advised caution.

In a slight departure from the norm, I chatted with an Australian couple at the top before heading down on a narrow descent through the trees that eventually opened up into larger road on which I probably set a speed record as it descended all the way to the river at the bottom of the valley, complete with the obligatory hairpin turn into town.

Having spied a picnic table, I stopped for lunch in Vicdessos then luxuriated in following the river through terrain quite reminiscent of the Adirondacks (albeit with coarser pavement and better bread). By that point the wind had picked up,and it was deliciously cool in spots as the I passed by roadside streams.

It was on the way to the Pas de Souloumbrie just past Arnave (where another sign announced that the road was closed) that I came upon two riders who had opted to forego some of the earlier climbs, and who told me that a woman they had spoken to had told them that this time the road was indeed impassable - blocked by a landslide. Being a stubborn sort who is not afraid of walking through rubble (especially if it means not having to give back the elevation I had worked so hard to achieve) I pressed on and shortly encountered another of our group, who was of a similar mindset. He informed me that he had been barred from continuing by an official on site, so we all descended and returned to Tarascon-sur-Ariege to ride the busy, if flatter, N20 road to Luzenac.

Not to be outdone, that road had a detour as well and I ended up outsmarting myself by ignoring it, since when I entered Luzenac feeling smug about having avoided all the traffic, I soon learned that I had to backtrack to reach our hotel, which was on the edge of town and right on the detour route I had avoided!

Meanwhile, it's bloody hot and thunderstorms are in the forecast

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