La Morbihanaise ~ Jean Floc'h
The Morbihannaise is the sportive of the Morbihan region's town of Plumelec in Northwest France.
It's a couple of hours from St Malo and is right in the heart of the legendary King Arthur and the Sword in the Stone country.
On the Saturday there is the GP Plumelec, a Coupe du France race and on Sunday there's the sportive.
The start, and finish, is on the iconic Cote de Cadoudal which has held a stage finish of the Tour four times in the recent past and has been used three times for the French National Championships. It's that good.
So we thought we'd give it a go and try yet another new event in our adventures around Europe.
How it's done.
This was to be a cosy little trip with Jo and Nik le Cocq,
equipe flamme rouge
(me and the missus)
and Jo's mum and dad who live just down the road and came to offer
support.
On Saturday we sat out in the (baking) sun watching the pro's race build to a crescendo as they tackled the huge climb thirteen times.
t was a great day, with Jeremie Galland beating all the top pro's to the line. Watch out for him in the near futur. As you can see below, it was a hot, hot day.
Classic French Organisation
These events fit in to two camps. Race
admin is either world class or shambolic. Today, they opted for
the latter. When we go there to register, we were third and fourth
in the queue. Twenty minutes later we had three of us in but no
Dianne. So we registered her again.
All accredited up, we drove the twenty minutes to Vannes and the nearest "proper" hotel. This race really takes place in the countryside of the middle of nowhere. But what fantastic countryside it is. The perfect setting or a race.
Le Grand
Depart
Next morning we were up early at six, to eat
and leave for seven, ready for the start at eight. We drove
straight to the course, parked in pole position and was bemused by the
lack of activity.
That's because the start was at nine. "At least we could get a good hour's warm up!" I suggested to the sleep deprived team, trying to build morale...
Echapee
Folly
Jo (she's the skinny one above) has done a few of
these now and knows how to handle herself. But some of the French riders
are less than gentlemanly when trying to get, hold, or sneak a wheel.
Especially in the opening kilometres.
I'm quite good at finding and taking gaps and after 10k found myself at the head of the field. There had been no real hills yet! But, as usual, the pace was quite relentless which saw us cover 35 kilometres of quite rolling countryside in the first hour.
The course itself covers a figure of eight, everyone diving out on a 30k loop before coming back through the town and disappearing off in to the back of beyond. I wasn't feeling too good as we came through the town but I was hanging on thinking it was going to be a long day.
I was doing the 104k event, as I'd only got back from my previous race three days before and decided to wimp out as I was away again the following week My next decision was confirmed for me as the attacks started when we left the town for the second time.
After my third chase back on after getting dropped, it was apparent I was having a "jour sans".
I ended up with two French riders and we did a bit of through and off to try and get back to the group but it was obvious they were more sapped than I.
So we called a truce, took a drink and collectively decided, without speaking, that it would be a good idea to ride hi-speed tempo and waiting for the second wave to come and join us.
The Catch
We were about 10k further down the road when a group emerged behind us,
It
looked like five riders and they were travelling quite fast. We
took another drink and some food and prepared to be caught.
As the first rider went past I got out of the saddle and picked up my speed to jump on the back. As I joined them, all I heard was, "Hello Toe-neeee"
It was Jo! She'd stayed with the big boys of her group but they sort of muscled her to the back and kept her out of the way.
We carried on for another 10k or so and had a little team talk as more riders joined our group. We were coming along the top of a valley and it was obvious we'd be going down it and out the only road up the other side. It looked long and it looked steep.
I grabbed Jo and took her to the front of what was now a 25-30 strong group. It was going to kick off on the hill and I wanted her to be near the front when the fast boys went.
Hopefully, at least she'd be able to keep out of trouble through not getting blocked and maybe hang on to a group when the inevitable split came. We gelled up and waited for the pain to begin...
The Split
Didn't go exactly to plan.
My last words to Jo were, "get in a good gear that will spin you up the hill and don't race it. Keep at your level not theirs and don't go too far in to the red". A good plan I thought.
I took the lead on the hill, as it often calms people down if they have someone to follow; they they all wait to jump you at the top.
If you stay calm you can always get back on them when they do jump (amongst my peers anyway) as you've boxed clever and not blown yourself up. It's all about pacing.
A few riders came on my shoulder and a few drifted past. Then there was a gap; the split was beginning to take place.
Then Jo came past; in the big ring on the outside of all of us! It was mayhem and chaos wrapped up in a devastation blanket.
The crunching of gears and the contortion of bodies as everyone, and I mean everyone, fought, struggled and turned themselves inside out to get her wheel had to be seen to be believed.
Over half of them never made it. Not for the first time this year, I was one of them.
Having caused the main spilt, Jo then attacked her group on the last climb
Seeing as I was left behind, I'll have to leave Jo until the end, and report on my effort from here on in.
We're now around 30k from the finish. Once we cleared the top of the climb, we watched Jo and her group disappear in to the distance.
Try as we might, we chased but couldn't close the gap; then people stopped trying. We capitulated to our stronger brothers, and sister, and an armistice broke out.
I went to the front a few times and did some long pulls, but it was obvious everyone was waiting for the final climb. In the meantime, Jo was getting worked over by her group. She said they weren't very nice to her. "That's because you'd already badly hurt them Jo!"
They all thought she was some neo-pro (there was one in the race) so left her to do the work on the front. Some were even reluctant to tell her how far the finish was in case she attacked them!
So she waited until they got there, then attacked anyway. As you can see above.
The Finale
The old SRM was working perfectly and from
about 10k out I could see the tented village sitting atop the Cote de Cadoudal.
I knew exactly how far there was to go and I knew exactly were the hill was, and the kilometres leading up to it, as we'd driven and ridden it a couple of hours before, as we had a little time on our hands vbefore the others arrived!
The only thing I wasn't sure about was how much I had left in the tank.
me ~ sprinting up a hill!
At the foot of the huge descent, leading on to the Cote, I'd decided I wasn't going to brake at the tight right hand corner and attack for all I was worth (which wasn't much).
As usual, I'd descend quite well and got in to the corner with a 20 metre lead, skimming the spectators as I left the bend, praying there was no musette waiting to snag my handlebars (a la Armstong).
The gap was nearly 40 metres by time I'd looked under my arm after my first dig. All I have to do now is hang on. I naively thought.
You'll
see from the SRM stats that I hit the corner at just under 40kph.
Almost 1800 metres, and six an a half minutes later, I crossed the line.
Sort of "slow-motion" sprinting (mainly through fear of getting caught) and putting out a fatigued 555 watts.
As usual max heart rate was well over 200 bpm, but for once I managed to keep the average with a 19 at the beginning instead of a 20 or 21.
I held off the chasing pack to come in after 3:12 to finish 81st overall.
Jo was already sitting down and recovered by the time I'd finished. She came in an incredible 2nd lady (behind a rider from Nicole Cooke's Vision 1 team) and 61st overall in 3:05.
Her group took 7 minutes off us in 30k! Incredible riding.
However there is still more to tell..
The
Travesty
After the debacle of signing on it transpired that Dianne's new number
wasn't allocated to her name. She had a fantastic ride and really
mixed it up with her group.
It always seems to disarm people that she doesn't have dropped bars so they don't take her seriously. But she left a few of her group at the bottom of the hill and plugged away to the finish line, hot bothered but having had a "brilliant ride".
No idea where she came but she enjoyed it and that's all that mattered.
Dianne, holding the wheel, before attacking him with 50 metres to go
After, I'd recovered and everyone waited for me to get ready, we sauntered to the marquee for our food and a gander a the results.
Finding Jo's number wasn't hard, she was near the top of the sheets, I was near the bottom, but still managed to sneak on to the first page!
We couldn't find Dianne's name anywhere then realised there was a blank name at 57th place in the 50 k event. It was Dianne's number but no name.
Then the presentations took place, massive country hampers. The sponsor is local food producer and it was an impressive prize but only the category winners got one.
We went back to look at the sheets and the lady presented with the 50 k lady, winners prize, was Nicole Corvez, in 2:39.
Dianne (number 1049) finished in 2:24 and was robbed of her food parcel by an administrative oversight. But we're not bitter! Next year we'll be back.
As ever a fantastic event in a fantastic setting. Now I know it starts at 9:00 am, and we know where it is and how to get there, I'm sure we'll be back with a larger crowd. Despite the admin limitations it's a great race and well worth visiting.
Thanks to Nic, for taking the photo's. He didn't ride as he was preparing for the IronMan Championships in Austria the following week. He relaxed by going for a 10k run in the woods. It must of worked because he qualified for the IronMan World Championships.
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