The Geres Granfondo- Chris Chapman

The Geres Granfondo, in the Peneda-Geres National Park in Northern
Portugal, takes place in a territory inhabited by Europe’s largest
predator, the magical and elusive Iberian or grey wolf. So stragglers
had better beware! A choice of a 146km granfondo or a 100km
mediofondo saw me plump for the easier option. Not that this was an
easy choice, far from it: a hundred kilometres with 2000 metres of
vertical ascent including the 22 km ascent of Alto Pedro Cardoso, a
couple of 3rd and 4th Category climbs and numerous cobbled sections to
boot.
I’d dined on roasted kid the evening before the event hoping that it
would bestow upon me the climbing characteristics of a mountain goat
but I suspect that this may have been the rare lowland variety. The
morning dawned clear and bright and after breakfast and warm up had
got to the start line early for a good position. There were about 800
starters: 300 in my event and 500 in the granfondo. Looking around I
noticed that I was about a foot taller and about three stone heavier
than most of the people around me. Oh dear.
An email had informed me that the event would start promptly at
8.30am, so at about 8.45 3-2-1, a cheer, a mighty bang and a shower of
confetti from the gantry above the start line and we were off. It
was shoulder to shoulder stuff and the organisers had sensibly decided
that the first 6k would be neutralised. I noticed that some of the
sparkly confetti had lodged itself between the optical insert lens and
the tinted lens of my sunglasses. Hmmm.
Led by a couple of lead cars and accompanied by motorcycle Police and
bikers from the Porto motorcycle club, the descent was sinewy and
nervous, squeals of brakes at every turn, someone ahead dropped a
bottle that spun around as we swerved to avoid it. A motorbike kept
getting in my way and I realised that it was a Portugal TV bike
complete with cameraman sat facing backwards like in the Tour. I
later found out that the whole thing was being televised live.
A mile or so of flat after the end of the neutralised section saw me
sitting comfortably in the first 50 or so. Then we were into the
first climb of the day, a category 4 up to Valdosende. This saw me
slide down through the bunch as my heart rate raced to near my max. A
descent saw me tack onto a group of around 50 riders and I pushed my
way into the middle. The parcours continued on a slightly downhill
grade with a few lumps to give your bum a rest.
Traffic was pushed well to the side as we had a Police motorcycle
escort. The small town of Amares after 31kms was reached in well
under an hour. Then we hit a long cobbled section of a couple of
miles, as we bounced along crowds of people shouted encouragement and
applauded. The town had a feira (festival) and music blarred out from
loudspeakers as children played on rides. We were soon back into open
countryside, the roads were flanked by granite stone walls and vines.
This was vinho verde country. The road was narrow and twisty. We
crossed an old granite bridge and followed a stream for a few miles.
I was in the big ring spinning 50x14 and feeling fine.
Groups of locals offered great encouragement – some had been bussed in
from nearby towns and villages to see the ‘race’ and they cheered and
clapped as we sped past. At Pico de Regalados there was a sharp left
hand bend. The crowds were standing 2 or 3 deep and as we rounded it
there were two guys who had fallen. They were getting back on their
bikes as I sprinted out of the corner. This was the low point of the
route at 70 metres and the first 50k had gone by in a bit of a blur in
just over an hour and thirty.
The climb of Alto Pedro Cardoso began gradually and again I began to
slip back. Initially, I yo-yoed getting shelled out the back of my
group on the steeper sections only to catch back up as the road
flattened. Predictably, the elastic snapped. After climbing for
5k, the granfondo and mediofondo routes split, with the mediofondo
turning sharply right. The road reared up in front of me and a sign
said 17kms to the summit at 5%. The houses soon dropped away as I
climbed onwards, a couple of guys caught me up and we rode together
for a mile or so. A sign for a fojo da lobo (an ancient stone wolf
trap) reminded me that this was not my natural territory.
One of the Police motorcyclists came up to keep me company and asked
how far I’d gone. Unable to remember the Portuguese for 59
kilometres, I replied more or less halfway. He seemed satisfied,
wished me good luck and sped off.
The countryside changed as I climbed, gone was the gentle landscape of
vines, quaint bridges and trickling streams, replaced by rugged
moorland strewn with huge granite boulders, not unlike Dartmoor. The
temperature had dropped too and low cloud hid some of the view. I
hoped it wouldn’t rain.
The route passed through a couple of tiny hamlets – austere granite
houses and everytime the road passed through some habitation there was
a cobbled section. Most of the locals had come out of their houses
to cheer the riders on: these roads see very little traffic. I
noticed a woman with a huge bunch of enormous cabbage leaves – enough
to feed about 15 for a week. Another woman was carrying a sack of
fertiliser on her head. Some goats ran to higher ground as I went
past. The road continued upwards with varying degrees of steepness,
sometimes only 2 or 3% and in places up to 15%.
At a remote village called Posto Maior, the cobbles were huge, whereas
in other stretches they had been small setts about 2-3 inches square,
these were bigger than my hand and very rough, uneven and
uncomfortable! It was slow going but it had some rewards. The
village was having a feira and as I rode past caught mouthwatering
wafts of chicken and pork being barbequed on huge barbeques, a
Portuguese speciality. The cheering and crowds were all the louder as
they were wine and beer fuelled despite it being before 11.00 in the
morning! At the end of the village a stage was set up and folkloric
country dancing dressed in traditional dress was being performed to
high-pitched bagpipe music. I stopped and took a short video and a
couple of pictures.
The road flattened and I was soon at the high point and feed station.
This was at 780m having climbed up from 70m. To put it into context,
in about the same distance of the Ninfield circuit, I’d climbed the
equivalent of 7 Battery Hills. At the feedstation, I grabbed a drink
and some orange. I became aware of a folk group dressed in tradition
dress complete with hurdy-gurdy who were serenading the riders.
I knew from the route card that I had a huge descent to make but what
I had failed to notice is a number of quite steep corrugations up and
down of about 20%, one over a cobbled section. I was glad that I had
my 34x32 bottom gear as I needed it. Across the top it was quite
chilly and I had to slow on one of the descents as an unexpected
hazard in the shape of wild ‘garrano’ horses and a foal were blocking
the road.
At Brufe, the descent started in earnest I had joined a group of 3
Portuguese riders who had caught me on the way up. My extra weight
meant that I soon dropped them and sped away. The road was narrow and
the edges dropped away steeply. I crossed a dam with less than 30
kms to go. The road began to climb again, another category 3 climb
and 2 of the 3 riders came past and left me. At the summit was a
junction and a left turn across the traffic, the Policeman at the
junction stopped a couple of cars and waved me across.
It was beginning to get grippy as I’d set myself a target of 4 hours
and I still had 20k to go, including a Category 3 climb up to the
finish and I only had about 35 minutes left. Thankfully there was a
fast descent from Campo do Geres down to Sao Bento the start of the
final climb and overtaking a couple of cars on the way down gave me a
second wind.
I had a few riders in front of me on the final climb of 5k up to the
finish and as it was not very steep was able to reel them in, I kept
an eye on the time and the marker boards counted down the kilometres.
I finally caught a rider I’d been pursuing for about a kilometre as we
entered the barriers with 400m to go, he tried to jump me but I was
not going to let him beat me. The crowds gave us a good cheer as we
crossed the line.
This was a truly great experience, wonderful landscapes, enthusiastic
support, a really well organised event with Police outriders and
plenty of marshals. For the record, I managed to break 4 hours
achieving the gold standard in 3:56:03, I’d finished 63rd overall and
25th for my age group. But I didn’t see a wolf and I was pretty
knackered at the end.
We don’t have many events in Portugal and the next one is only an hour
from me on 12 October 2013
http://www.skyroad-grandfondo.com/index.php/en/ How about arranging a
Hastings and St Leonards team? I’ve got plenty of space.

Chris Chapman