On vacation with the family to Spain. By plane. Dilemma: do you take your own bike? With all the risks that entails? Or rent one? And what else do you do in terms of routes?
Photo: at the start it is immediately clear, this is not a sportive (c) CambriBike
Everyone will recognize it: you go on vacation and of course you want to cycle. Do you go with your own bike or, like me, rent one locally? Then you get into a conversation with the local bike shop and they tell you about the nice sportive gran fondo CambriBike in the neighborhood the next day. Site visited, GPX downloaded, registration can be done on the spot. Great! When you arrive, it turns out that the term "sportives" does not quite cover it... At registration, you are provided with a back number with a chip for time registration. And there appears to be a joint start. With a lead car. And a neutralization. No, definitely not a sportive race in the classic sense of the word.
A sizeable peloton of riders set out for two distances: 85 and 125 kilometers. Brave (or stupid) as I am, I, as a non-climber, opted for the long distance, in which 2700 meters of elevation have to be conquered. The starting gun is fired and riders of various types, from semi-professional looking to this-will-be-my-first-ride cyclists, mount up for a ride through the interior of the Costa Dorada. Pedaling leisurely, a sizeable peloton rides the first kilometers toward the first hills under a nice sun. Neatly on the right half of the two-lane road we ride four wide behind.
At the foot of the first climb of the day, we get to "let go." The real climbers gear up, while I choose a lighter gear. The peloton quickly stretches and here and there the first gaps appear. Gaps that grow into distances until I don't see anyone in front of me anymore. Behind me, there are still a few riders who seem to ride uphill at their leisure. With a friendly greeting, they pass me, and with an extra effort, I can just hang on with my rental biker.
When it gets steeper, I am slowly but certainly dropped. Too bad... As an anti-climber, I was happy to keep up on the moderate sections. What does bother me? Being overtaken on that steep part by cozy, chatting Spaniards. Can't they shut up for a moment? Don't those guys know that I just have to ride full speed to get to the top?
In the descents, I have an advantage as a Dutch 'truck.' Those skinny Spaniards only get in my way. I calmly wait for my moment before a blind turn to make extra speed with two-three pedals and then smoothly pass those irritating flyweights. After the final descent, all that remains is a flat road to the finish. Quietly double-folded over the handlebars, I pedal away the last kilometers, watched by other participants who are impressed by my smooth gait against the wind. At least I think so when I see them grinding against the wind. Back at the starting point, a finisher's medal, a coke, and a recovery meal from the organization is my reward for a hard day's work.
By the way... The feed stations during the event are more than good. Every forty kilometers, there is a care station where you can fill your water bottles with sports drinks, and there is food in abundance. Equipment breakdown? There are tires for sale and a car driving around to pick up any stranded riders. Should you not fancy the road ride, you can also opt for a gravel or MTB ride. So there's something for everyone!