“My Étape du Tour 2023”

After giving us the details of his preparation for the 2023 Étape du Tour, Nicolas S. tells us how he experienced the event.

By Nicolas S. – Photos: Sportograf.com / All rights reserved

July 9, 2023 – It’s finally D-day. It’s 5:00 AM, the alarm rings, I jump out of bed. All I want is to be on the starting line. Like everyone else, I’m a little scared, but I want to face that fear. I’m happy to go for it, unlike last year when I felt like I was dragging my feet.

6:15 AM – We head towards the starting corrals. We live 2 km from the line, which is an incredible advantage and stroke of luck.

6:30 AM – I have to leave Fabien and Rémi, who are in Corral 0, where they’ll meet Arnaud and Antoine, a friend from the North nicknamed Jay because of his striking resemblance to Jay Vine.

6:35 AM – I’m in my corral, number 1, and I start waiting. My level of relaxation amazes me; I think I’ve turned a corner mentally. I chat with Alex, a young Australian next to me. He was a pro on a Conti team. He’s aiming for around 5 hours for the event and plans to target 300W on the climbs. We’re not living in the same world.

7:00 AM – Corral 0 has just left, and we’re asked to move closer to the starting line.

7:07:30 AM – AC/DC’s Thunderstruck is blasting on the sound system, we’re off, and as usual, it’s a full-throttle start. I move up through many groups, being careful; starts are always very stressful. I’m in a bunch, there are so many people that I have no idea where I am between the front and the back of the peloton. It’s rolling fast, so I decide to stay where I am and be carried to the foot of Saxel.

7:30 AM – We hit the foot of Saxel. I’ve decided to be very cautious with my efforts; there’s no way I want to finish completely spent. The Col de Joux Plane and its terrible slopes scare me too much. Everyone is climbing hard, and I let them go to settle into Zone 3 at around 240W. I’m not suffering at all, and everyone is passing me. I’ve decided on a strategy, and I’m sticking to it. I’m managing my energy like a good family man.

It’s almost 8:00 AM, and I’m starting the first descent. Always a stressful moment, because the groups haven’t formed yet, and some are ready to ride over you to gain a few places. Sure enough, I narrowly avoid a crash because of a guy who passes me on the right through a tiny gap. Time to regain my composure, refocus, and most importantly, put my nutrition strategy of 80g of carbohydrates per hour into action. The day promises to be long, the day promises to be hot, but the day promises to be enjoyable.

8:15 AM – The first ramps of the Col du Cou are before me. I stick to my initial plan; I don’t leave my Zone 3, which I monitor with my power meter. I continue to be passed; it will be the same for almost 3 hours of racing. What would have thrown me off my game last year makes me smile this year and confirms that I’m on the right track. Most of these guys who start hard will be walking on the Ramaz. The Col du Feu will be swallowed at the same pace as the first climbs. I’m starting to feel the first muscle aches, but it has no impact on my mental state. I continue to drink, eat, and take salt tablets because I have an impressive ability to lose mineral salts.

10:00 AM – I’m going to make a small error in judgment. We’re approaching the Col de Jambaz, which isn’t listed on the profile; let’s say it’s a climb that doesn’t count. I’m going to let a group go, always fearing going into the red and paying for it later. One day I’ll have to force myself to make certain efforts at key moments of the event to lose as little time as possible. I make sure to stop at almost all the aid stations, just to refill my bottles. I don’t exceed 2 to 3 minutes maximum per stop. Just enough time to empty my pockets, reorganize my food, put powder in my bottles, take a salt tablet, smile at the volunteers, and thank them for what they do. When you’re in the first part of the race, aid stations are a formality.

10:40 AM – I leave Mieussy behind me; I have an appointment with the first big chunk of the day, even though I already have over 90 km in my legs and 2000 m of accumulated elevation gain. I tackle the Col de la Ramaz, which is a very serious challenge with its 14 km climb at over 7%. I chose to start cautiously, and I stick to my target power zone. It’s clear that the watts drop a bit compared to the first climbs, but it remains reasonable, and most importantly, I stay in Zone 3 without too much suffering. I start to see many guys stopped on the side of the road, walking, lying down, or even throwing up due to the heat and surely the too-high pace of the first hours. It’s my turn to pass people, and I catch guys in groups of 30. The Col de la Ramaz climbs very well until a very difficult section that we all call “the tunnel section,” which leads to the Sommand resort. I feel my legs getting stiffer, and it’s time for the climb to end. Coming out of the tunnels allows me to appreciate the few kilometers leading to the summit, and I must admit, the landscapes throughout the course are literally breathtaking. I finish La Ramaz, make an aid station stop, and launch into the descent towards the bogeyman of the course: the Col de Joux Plane. I’m always very careful on descents; I wouldn’t want to crash due to overconfidence. On the descent, I spot a sign indicating Morzine via Les Gets. Many will take this shortcut to avoid the Col de Joux Plane; the poor souls don’t know that the climb back up via Les Gets is far from easy. I shelter well within a group to reach Samoens and cross the only valley of the entire course. Guillaume, my coach, had predicted an arrival at the foot of Joux Plane in about 6 hours; I’m there in just over 5 hours and 15 minutes. Internally, I’m jubilant.

12:30 PM – I must now accept facing this climb that has terrified me for many weeks. I’ve questioned everyone who knows it to reassure myself, but nothing they say has the desired effect. I try to minimize it by telling myself it can’t be harder than the “St Estève – Chalet Reynard” section of Mont Ventoux, which is already a tough one, and yet, yes, I can tell you that Joux Plane is more demanding. I reach the first meters of the climb, and I can’t get Sébastien’s phrase out of my head: “You’ll see, Joux Plane is like garage exit ramps for over 10 km.” I swear, I’m terrified. I minimize it by joking with the spectators. I jokingly scold a young woman on the side of the road who is emptying her bottle of fresh water on the guy in front of me; I complain about not getting a few drops, and we laugh. You’ll often read that the Étape du Tour entry fee is not justified; I won’t enter that debate, everyone sets their own value cursor. Nevertheless, come and experience once in your life the atmosphere on the side of the road thanks to the thousands of people present throughout the course. You won’t feel the entry fee the same way anymore.

The ramps are impressive, the temperatures are very high, but I’m suffering much less than last year on Alpe d’Huez. Everyone is at the same pace, at least those who are still on their bikes. Some are paying the price for their lack of management. I hoped to pass people like on the Ramaz, but I cling to the few remaining strengths I have. I don’t collapse; the watts have dropped slightly again, but I maintain my target zone. There isn’t a single shaded part, and worse, there isn’t a single flat section. This climb is a nasty piece of work of the worst kind. I eat, I drink, and I deploy my last mental cartridge. I focus on the kilometer markers and make a date with myself at the next sign that shows one less kilometer to reach the summit. In these moments, you cling to whatever you can. I observe, looking ahead, the cyclists climbing in the opposite direction to mine after having passed the bend that awaits me. The altitude difference between them and me is impressive, and I wonder how one can climb so high in a single bend; the answer is simple: the slope is severe. This climb never ends. I had remembered that things got tougher from a section called “La Combe Emeru”; I find it already so difficult that I can hardly imagine how it could be even more so.

The kilometers tick by as best they can, my bottles empty, and my legs hold up fairly well. I admit to a certain weariness, but I find the mental effort to mobilize much easier to sustain compared to last year and the 25 or 29 km climbs that were offered to us. I see the avalanche barriers indicating a nearby summit, I see a sign for “summit 2 km,” the percentages are still close to 10%; it’s time for it to stop. The last kilometer appears, indicated at 2%. We’ll all laugh about it afterwards because it’s more like 7% minimum. I throw my last forces into it; I’m finally at the summit.

1:30 PM – I have just finished the Étape du Tour in 6h24. The organization decided to neutralize the last descent to limit the risk of accidents. I’m not there to take pictures; I ask the guys to move aside, and I launch myself towards Morzine. The descent is quite arduous and steep. I almost lose control of my front wheel because of a stone; I’m still lucid enough to recover without too much difficulty. I let go without taking unnecessary risks, and Morzine appears before me with its winding turns. I cross the line; I’m done. I managed my ride like an accountant, and here I am at the end, having had enormous pleasure. I find my friends who are all together and waiting for me. I think it’s cool that all these guys who didn’t know each other are there waiting for me. Rémi and Antoine finish wheel to wheel as usual, around 330th place. Arnaud finishes in a magnificent 251st place but is a little upset because of his brother’s crash on the Ramaz; he still manages to reach the finish. Fabien completes the event in 65th place. I told you, Fabien is not like you and me, or at least not like me. As for me, I was aiming for a minimum Top 1000 and hoped to approach the Top 750. I finish in the same place as last year, between 1150 and 1200. So, a tiny bit of disappointment with the raw result, but the pleasure is so much greater than last year that I’m amply satisfied.

4:13 PM – We’ve devoured our pasta and beers, and we’re heading back home. After some discussion, we try the shortest route back via Les Gets. On the descent, we spot firefighters around a cyclist lying on the ground who seems quite badly injured. A posteriori, there’s no doubt it was Justine Dupenloup, a young cyclist quite active on Insta, who was hit by a guy passing her on the right. We find ourselves back on the event course amidst bib numbers 16,000. It’s another vision of the Étape du Tour, no less noble, just calmer. I dream of doing it one day like them, without the constraint of the clock. We add 50 km to the 157 already done that day; it’s time for it to end, everyone is fed up. In the evening, we meet up with Matt and Olivier, Rémi’s friends, to share a burger, fries, and beer.

July 10 – It’s around 9:30 AM. We’ve just left our apartment in Annemasse, and we all have a drive home. A final kiss and we part ways. Fabien tells me about his race; I have a smile on my face and memories filling my head. I can’t wait for next year.

It’s October 2023, ASO presents the route of the 2024 Tour de France which will start from Florence, Italy. For me, there’s no doubt that the Étape du Tour will take place near Nice, to compensate for the 2020 edition which was postponed then cancelled. If this is confirmed, it might be time for me to consider taking on my true cycling challenge: La Marmotte.

But that will be for another story, and without a doubt, it will still be a story of friends.

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