About the Mont Ventoux, the giant of the Provence there has been written a lot, in the form of stereotypes and, above all, many mythical stories, but I will not soon forget that particular day in July 1999.
With some friends I've been to the French alps to conquer the cols. On our list were the col du Galibier, the col du Télégraphe, the col de la Croix-de-Fer, the col du Montgenèvre and finally the col du Mont Ventoux. I only climbed the latter because I stayed a bit longer than my friends.
Once suffering the cold is enough
I wanted to climb the Mont Ventoux at all costs and would do this on the last day, after all, the col was already well on the way back. I was there around 09.00 to start the climb at 09.30 am. However, I saw more and more black clouds accumulate around the mountain and wisely decided to wait. Within a short time a thunderstorm would break out at the top.
the lunar landscape of the col du Mont Ventoux
A few days before I had already experienced a cloudburst during the Tour ride with passage on the col du Galibier. We had ridden up by bike without a raincoat because it was plenty of sun. Little did we know that a storm would erupt that day in which even the last riders had to pass.
Never before have I suffered such a cold during the descent from the Galibier towards Briançon. Zigzagging between the cars, I struggled to clamp my handlebars from the shaking of the cold. I then took a hot shower for half an hour.
Half an hour later I saw the lightning bolts in the distance and heard the thunderclaps, the temperature had also dropped seriously in the meantime. I decided to wait until noon but was determined not to leave home without having defied this giant. When would I get here again?
the bike I rode up Mont Ventoux in 1999
It became 1:00 pm and finally the sky started to clear. Wait a little longer and then I would leave. An hour later the time had come, the temperature was anything but pleasant, so I put on a sweater with long sleeves. After a few kilometers the road got wet and I saw the consequences of the thunderstorm: dirty brown water from the forest along the road, flowed over the road.
Terrible suffering
I didn't go well at all, it was like the wet asphalt sucked me down. For a moment I thought my brakes were on. Once out of the forest, the terrible wind hit it again. The French word vent is not there for nothing in Ventoux. I was more standing on the pedals than I sat down. There was no question of suppleness either, because I had made the beginner's mistake by placing a much too large rear sprocket. Enjoyment is something else.
I could already see the top with the weather station from afar, but the kilometers were still very tough. Immediately the images of a drifting Tom Simpson and an exhausted Eddy Merckx who had to be oxygenated on arrival came to my eyes. Finally the last corner and then my agony is over, I knew.
As if the suffering was not enough, an amateur photographer asked me if I could do the last part, including the turn, again for a photo. The poor man had probably been waiting all day for a rider to photograph during his agony. I hadn't encountered any other rider during my climb, not even during the descent.
I agreed with the man, but only on the condition that he would send me the photo by mail, there were already mobile phones at the time, but there was no question of a smartphone with a built-in camera at the time. And as promised, a few weeks later I got the photo for which I am still grateful to the man.
In July 2021 I climbed the Col du Mont Ventoux again, this time not with my steel Martelly but with a rented carbon Look. The pace was also much slower than then, given the age and the suffering this time was not due to the wind and the bad weather, but due to the lesser condition.
The passage of the last bend was also captured this time, no longer by an amateur photographer but by my wife.
the ascent of the last bend more than 22 years later
