EXCLUSIVE I took my bike to the French Riviera where I took part in a 205km bike race through the night across the Alps
Sunrise on the Côte d’Azur is spectacular. An orange hue softly melts into the Mediterranean Sea, blending into a deep blue as it stretches endlessly towards the horizon.
Mandelieu is still fast asleep. Across the bay, so too is Cannes – home to the world-famous film festival – while the call of birds is the only sound to occasionally interrupt the rhythmic clicking of my gears.
This small corner of France’s celebrated coastline, where holidaymakers have flocked for decades to bask in the scorching summer sun, is beyond breathtaking.
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In all honesty, I was gutted to see the sun – just over 24 hours beforehand, I’d proudly – or perhaps stupidly – declared that if I saw the sunrise, something had gone badly wrong.
And yet, any frustration was quickly forgotten as I crested Le Grand Duc – a climb typical of this region; with one foot in the Mediterranean Sea, it rises gently out of Mandelieu and into the Alpes-Maritimes.
Daily Star Sport had found itself in Mandelieu, not too far from Nice, for the Race Across Series – an epic race that boasts five distances: 2,500km, 1000km, 500km, 300km and 205km.
The Race Across Series is the creation of former ultra-racer Arnaud Manzanini, who wanted to build events that were “much more than a cycling competition.”
I was doing the shortest distance, which had been advertised as a taster; however, in reality, it was a three-course meal.
Starting in the evening, as the sun was setting, I climbed into the Alps – and into darkness. It was my first real night ride, and I was slightly terrified when I turned on my lights for the first time.
You can train for the distance and the elevation, but in England, there’s not a lot of preparation that could be done for ascending and descending mountains in total darkness.
But I was loving it. After starting a bit too quickly and picking off riders that had started ahead of me, I was quickly alone in the mountains.
My isolation finally came to an end in the small commune of Saint-Vallier-de-Thiey, where partygoers were still enjoying their Saturday night while I frantically searched for a water fountain.
Refuelled, I left the town via the switchbacks of the Col du Ferrier. By day, I’m sure the views would have been spectacular. Instead, all I could make out were the distant glow of streetlights scattered across the valley below.
It was on this climb that I caught the first glimpse of a faint flashing a few hundred metres down the road – it was the first time I had seen another racer for over an hour, starting a cat and mouse game that lasted until the highest point of the route.
The Col de Castellaras came and went before I was finally reeled in on the slopes of the Col de Bleine. I didn’t realise it at the time, but the rider passing me was heading for the podium. He would also be the last cyclist I’d see for almost three hours.
The top of the Bleine marked 80km, and, more importantly, most of the climbing.
The next 80 kilometres were spent almost entirely alone as I was chased by a stray dog, searched for a phone signal to check the England score and hoped every village would have a drinkable water fountain.
The route, however, was spectacular. I was now on the main D roads that traverse the Alps – and I had them all to myself.
However, the sight of fellow cyclists was welcomed as I dropped down into Bargemon. These were the backmarkers of the 1000km route, which had taken on even mightier mountains, including the famous Mont Ventoux.
A weary group had elected to rest in the main square – on longer distances, Arnaud has also introduced mandatory sleep rules, with every rider required to clock up at least four hours of sleep every 36 hours.
“If the rider doesn’t comply with the sleep requirement, it’s immediate disqualification,” he said. “There is no negotiation when it comes to safety.”
The Frenchman knows the dangers of fatigue firsthand. During the Race Across America, he became so exhausted that he would pull up at traffic lights and immediately fall asleep.
Bargemon felt like a milestone. As well as being within 50km of the finish, it was a return to civilisation. A string of towns would now take me to the base of the Grand Duc, the gateway back to the Côte d’Azur.
Before cycling became a race against rivals, where obsessions with watts and weight rule supreme, it was an adventure into the unknown.
And ultra events, such as the Race Across Series, are a return to its roots – it’s just you and the bike.
Across 205km, and almost 4000m of vertical gain, I was reminded why I love this sport so much. There were no times or numbers to chase; it was just riding because it’s fun.