We signed on just after 6.15 am and still had plenty of time before the start at 8. We sat in the car chatting and trying to keep warm. A hunt for a toilet followed, seemingly only one for the thousand entrants. Time slipped-by and we had to scramble to get our bikes assembled and make the startline only a couple of minutes before 8. We were well down the pack as the event started promptly. 
The peloton wound its way on the flat roads through Lousa. Lousa was low at only 200 metres above sea-level. A small remote controlled helicopter with video camera flew overhead as we passed. After 5 or 6 kilometres, the road became lumpy as we climbed up to Gois at 400m. A climb of 200m over 16 kilometres wasn’t considered sufficient to be classified. A sharp, twisty and cobbled descent at Gois saw us cross a roman bridge. Soon after, Chris caught up with a Portuguese friend Luis, who lives in the next village to him. Luis told Chris that he had been having some heart problems and had been advised not to do the ride. Chris though it wise to stay with him to make sure he was OK. The road climbed and fell along a river valley headed the first feeding station at Colmeal. There we were serenaded by a local folk group in traditional dress as we wolfed down sliced oranges, bananas and ham and cheese sandwiches and refilled our bottles. Simon had been forced to stop as the cobbles had worked the bolts on his bottle cage loose.
Fortunately, he had found someone with an allen key and was able to tighten it up. Disaster averted. However, what he had not accounted for was the TV interview that he was forced to make. Where are you from? Do you like it? Etc etc
From the feed station, we made the ascent of the first categorised climb, the Serra Acor. With a vertical ascent of over 600m over 12 kilometres with a average gradient of 5%, with sections of 12% at the bottom, this was the first real test. After the steep section, Chris and Luis stopped for a pee, another rider also stopped and repeated the Portuguese saying ‘if one stops (for a pee), three stop’. We ground out the climb, through shist villages, and clear mountain streams. Luis pointed out a popular but cold bathing spot. The weather was cool, only 9 or 10 degrees and we were glad of our armwarmers. As we climbed above the clouds which filled the valleys beneath.
At the top of the climb we were bathed in sunshine, Simon who had obviously made a quick ascent joined us as we rode across the tops of the mountains for 20 odd kilometres. Simon was beginning to suffer but we had only covered 50 kilometres and still had over a hundred left. He momentarily slid off the back of a small group that was forming but was towed back up by one of the following cars. It was fairly windy across the tops and Luis, who is a wind turbine engineer, kept excitedly pointing out wind farms as we rode past.
Somewhere we refilled our bottles from a tap connected to water tanker that was parked by the side of the road. We then began a great descent past a dam. On the descent you could look across and see an incredibly steep climb with figures toiling up it. The climb of the barragem santa luzia 1.6k at an average of 12% didn’t really do it justice as it included two sections of 21%. Simon and Chris stuck it into 34x32 and were forced out of the saddle on a couple of occasions. Echoing round the valley was the sound of massive bass drums being struck at the top by a local group. It felt like going to war.
Chris wanted to wait to see how Jon who only had a 27 sprocket on the back, suffered up the climb, but we pressed on. A long and winding descent brought us to the next feeding station at Pampilhosa da Serra. We stuffed our faces with oranges and sandwiches and drank orange squash. We weren’t quite at the halfway point but our legs were beginning to tire.
Nothing could have prepared us for what came next. The cobbled climb out of Pampilhosa was both steep and long. We weren’t able to look for our names on the gold stars that hung like bunting (each competitor had their name written on a different gold star) were above the town street that we followed. Then when the cobbles ended, the tarmac road just got steeper. At the top a cow and a monkey shouted ‘encouragement’ and jumped around like lunatics.
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| ‘That was the hardest ride I’ve ever done’ |
We rode through silent chestnut woods and only two other riders all the way up. At the top a sign of a broken hammer indicated that we had cracked it: all downhill now. Someone thoughtfully handed out newspapers to all the riders as it was cold at the top and had started to spit in the low cloud. Simon rode to the front on the tricky twisty and technical descent and stayed there: leading a small peloton of 8 riders. Luis had warned us that it was a poor road surface and an old road but in fact it was better than most roads in Sussex. The roads dried as we descended, losing 800m over the space of 18 kilometres.
Simon just edged Chris in the hard fought sprint for 388th place in 7 hours 42 minutes and 49 seconds. Jon, largely on his own, finished in 8 hours 32 minutes and 36 seconds for 457th place.
‘That was the hardest ride I’ve ever done’ agreed Simon and Jon. The stats speak for themselves 169 kilometres and 6,826m of climbing. As Simon drove us back home, he still had the energy to pioneer a new technique for driving over speed humps - hitting them at 60 mph and treating them as launch pads.
Chris Chapman
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