But fortunately, this climb had a happy ending. It prompts me to ponder the question: What's the difference between two Malaysian police officers and two French security guards who are working their way through university? When it comes to empathy for ageing Australian cyclists (me), quite a lot it seems.
If you were not aware, a puy is a geological term used in the central region of France, for a volcanic hill. Becoming extinct around late prehistoric times, most are clustered together, while some are scattered as isolated hills. Of these, the Puy de Dome is the highest.
Leaving in sweltering heat and humidity from our accommodation at Royat, an outer suburb of Clermont Ferrand, it was a cool 16 degrees within a matter of 30 minutes and a few hundred vertical metres. As I soon learnt, a once classic climb in the Tour de France, the Puy is no longer used by even the Grand Tour itself. A much easier alternative is the nearby Col de Ceyssat, which even compared to my climb from Gombak to Genting Sempah, is a piece of cake.
Work being done on top of the Puy de Dome. |
Suddenly, with just two kilometres remaining, I sighted two security guards approximately a hundred metres ahead. Young guys, and not wearing a distinct military-style uniform, I figured, Why not just ignore them and glide on past. No such luck. No sooner had I stopped when it began panning out for the worst. I tried everything. I explained how I’d come from Australia just to do this climb. I suggested they both look the other way while I quietly rode on by. I told them that my wife had earlier taken the walking track and I was meeting her at the summit. I even said that I was determined to cart my velo up the rocky walking track myself if I had to.
With all hope seemingly gone, the train pulled up where we were standing – at the intersection of the walking track and the road – to let out some passengers who preferred to take the track down the mountain. Just then, without hesitation, one of the security guards glanced at me to move on while he and his partner look away.
The next two or so kilometres averaged out at almost 11%. I think it's the fastest above 10% gradient I've ever climbed.
I'll never forget their kindness for allowing me to finish my climb. Certainly a trivial matter in the whole scheme of life. But ever striving towards the most trivial of goals can define who we are.
Roz really did take the walk up the mountain, from the Col de Ceyssat, 337 vertical metres below. |
The next two or so kilometres averaged out at almost 11%. I think it's the fastest above 10% gradient I've ever climbed.
I'll never forget their kindness for allowing me to finish my climb. Certainly a trivial matter in the whole scheme of life. But ever striving towards the most trivial of goals can define who we are.