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Tour 24 - Day 1 - Sa Calobra 🐍

By Luke S


We started off are day with quite a warm morning and a slightly sore head - nevertheless, I was feeling pretty confident maybe over confident in my legs for a big day of climbing.

The pace started off strong towards are first coffee stop and had a enjoyable coffee and song from some of the locals with their bag pipes and drums almost forgetting that we now have approximately 2000m of climbing to do. We set off promptly, upon arriving at a T junction Richard failed to shout stop and proceeded to break check me leaving me no time to unclip, I fell and destroyed a lovely Dogma di2 bike in 3 different places (was definitely my fault). After deciding what to do, Richard swiftly got a bike change and caught up with our group.

As most of the group alighted at the peso station at the top of the first mountain my legs were feeling good and I was in a good mood until I got a puncture and Pep came to my rescue leaving the W4 riders to call my bluff and one individual asking if i have bonked already (Tom D). I finally got to the top and and saw a very mischievous Tom and a rather amused Fred who, quite politely, handed me the yellow jersey and said I think you definitely earned this. As you can imagine a-lot of choice words left my mouth but there was no convincing anyone that I didn't deserve it.

We proceeded to Sa Calobra. Whilst descending further and further down I was getting quite worried that its a LONG LONG way back to the top that’s when the anxiety kicked in. I took a gel and got on with it. 4k into the climb and I may of gone too deep, legs were heavy and the heat was strong and thus began the bonking episode and life became that little bit harder.

Fortunately a pink man in lycra from the peak of the mountain came to my rescue, listened to my tantrum and told me to man up and get up the hill. After (again) a lot of choice words and whinging we made it to the top after growling 10k climb, and arrived at lunch. I was a shell of a man, could not stomach anything, zoned out and wanted to give up, so I took myself away and thew a tantrum again sure to say I was not ok.


With Fred reassuring me that I did well, and all is ok, we went on to the the final stop where, with replenishments of beers and a Coke, I was highly rejuvenated and the moral was better than lunch.


Tom decided it was an amazing idea to race back home and being the child I am I chased him with Steve screaming ‘I’m just a 53 year old man !!!’. Swiftly making it back to are hotel and straight into the spar to decompress.

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