Etape is a one-day race for anyone who does not have an active pro license.  It’s put on by ASO, the same company that runs the Tour de France.  The race is on the same route as a full tour stage and is usually either in the Alps or the Pyrenees.  This year, it was from Pau to Hautacam, through the Pyrenees.  Tour de France announcements described it as one of the “shorter” stages, at only 169 kilometers (105 miles) with about 3,200 meters (10,400 feet) of categorized climbing.

ASO runs their Etape just like a tour stage: All the roads are closed to non-race traffic, thousands of gendarmes and volunteers keep intersections clear and warn the riders of traffic islands, roundabouts, etc., motorcycles with mechanics go up and down the roads, medical vehicles are always nearby.  The downside here is that, just like the Tour, there’s a time limit.  The catch is that it’s not just at the end.  There’s a time cut-off in every town.  If you don’t make the cut-off, even if it’s only 10 kilometers into the race, you’re done.  You get a bus ride to the finish.  There is no appeal; your race is over, see you next time.  This year, 8,500 started and 6,100 finished.  Some of the harder Etapes have had more than one-third who didn’t finish.

Non-French riders must get an Etape entry through a tour company licensed by ASO.  This may sound like a trick to get you to pay more.  But our experience with Cyclomundo convinced us this is the only way to go.  They arrange the hotel, transfers, etc.  What we paid them was worth every penny in reduced stress.

In the months leading up to the Etape, we had researched the weather for past years when Pau was a stage start.  This convinced us the main weather problem was going to be heat and humidity (the last time a stage started here, it was 105 degrees by midday).  We figured this might be a bonus due to the airline baggage weight limits: we wouldn’t have to take all those warm biking clothes.

So, naturally, at 6 a.m. on July 6, the day of the Etape, when we got on our bikes for the 15-minute ride to the start, it was mid-40s and raining.  Odds were, it was a bit colder 6,000 feet higher at the top of the first hors category climb.  By this time, though, there was nothing to be done—take the clothes you brought and believe all those training hours would pull you through.  Stressing over things you can’t do anything about doesn’t do any good.

The start was in the parking lot of the Pau Hippodrome (horse-race track to us Americans).  Each staging area was fenced off by assigned numbers (1-500, 501-1000, etc.).  We were in the 2300s, which was a lot better than we could have been, since there were 8,500 entrants (Etape always fills, with many on the waiting list).  We were told to be there no later than 6:15 for a 7 a.m. start.  I was worried about bathroom needs during those 45 minutes, but there was nothing to worry about.  Turns out that standing uncovered in the open before the sun comes up while getting rained on when it’s 45 degrees out, and being dressed for a hot, humid ride, are great distractions.

But, surprisingly, the time went fast.  Even more surprisingly, at exactly 7 a.m., the gun went off.  And nothing happened.  At least in our “pen”.  But, after a moment, I saw people heading out toward the huge Tour de France arch, which also was the location of the timing pad we had to cross to get our official start time.  Our turn came and we rolled out.  No one panicked or did anything stupid, so being packed in with 500+ other riders seemed like something that happened every day.  In 6 minutes and 30 seconds, I crossed the pad and had to make a 180-degree turn onto the small boulevard that led out of the hippodrome grounds.  Our speed crept up.  Until, after maybe one-quarter of a mile, we left the hippodrome grounds and turned onto a real highway.  It was a strange sensation, having a four-lane main road all to myself.  That distraction didn’t last long though.  Pacelines were forming and quickly picking up speed.  I was struggling with trying to see through my biking glasses, which were steadily pattered with rain and road spray.  At first I tried to clean them with a finger; then I pushed them down on my nose to look over them; finally, I just took them off and put them away.  I wasn’t to put them back on until the descent of the Col du Tourmalet 120 kilometers later.

At this stage, I was wet and kind of cool but not terribly uncomfortable.  Pacelines were passing us and we were passing others.  Like any riding over a distance, you suddenly realize how things change.  It stops raining, then starts again; the road surface goes from shiny asphalt to dull concrete to cobblestones; the road goes from four-lane to a wide two-lane.  A town grows out of the fog in the distance.  Crazily, the road narrows for the town.  A sharp, pointed steeple with a cross at the top, the town center.  Red tile roofs, stone walls just at the edge of the road, the stone walls give way to building walls.  The walls hugging the very edge of the tarmac.  Then a traffic island at an intersection, a car is parked to the left, cutting off two-thirds of the opening around the island.  Somebody yells “A Droit! A Droit!” (Right! Right!) and the pack bunches even closer.  Everyone puts their hands on the hoods to keep brake handles from hooking on anything; elbows out to be sure they’re the first thing someone touches when they get close.  I sure hope no one opens a window shutter; that would be bad.  No road through these towns is flat or straight.  We snake along, keeping our lines, closing any gap.  Hesitate a second and someone else has the gap and you’re suddenly back 20 feet from where you were.  Then, like a mirage disappearing, the town falls behind and the road opens.  Riders accelerate and some shouldering settles the paceline order.  Rotation starts again, and we all eat and drink as quickly as we can.

It was like this for the first 30 miles. And then we reached the first categorized climb, called Labatmale, and any semblance of organization went to hell.

When we climb Sunnyside Road as a group, we naturally spread out as each person climbs more or less at their pace.  Not here.  Everyone knew that to be alone is to be lost, so if anybody passed you or if someone started to ride away from you, and you were not already cross-eyed with effort, you dug in and forced another few watts out of your legs. This climb was only about 3 km (little less than 2 miles) at 6%.  But going up it at your max made it feel like it was 30 km long.  You know what really helped?  This was the first time there were big crowds.  These folks knew their cycling and knew what a struggle it was, how everyone, whether they were fading back or charging up the climb, was going as hard as they could.  The spectators, too, were out there in the rain, with their shiny slickers and goofy rain hats and umbrellas.  Best of all was their encouragement.  They didn’t care if the first group went by an hour ago.  They weren’t just going through the motions for some nameless pack-fodder they’d never see again.  They looked each rider in the eye and clapped and yelled just for you.  And when you give them a pained grin, by God, they smile back and get even more excited.  Talk about being propelled by emotion!

Like some especially gruesome climbs, this one didn’t really have a downhill on the other side.  After the top, we spent a while on small rollers, trying to recover on the short downhills and then hunching over, deathgrip on the bars, to charge up the next climb.

After this first climb, we were to go through Lourdes (location of the Catholic shrine).  I never saw the town.  There was a feed station here, though, at 70 kilometers, just the other side of Lourdes.  Unfortunately, I felt too good for my own good and made the mistake of getting only water.  I had been eating ok but later problems might not have been so bad if I had taken 60 seconds and stuffed some more food down.  Other Cyclomundo clients who had done other Etapes had stories about food stops that made them sound like food drops into a hunger zone.  But these weren’t like that at all.  It was crowded, but there were lots of easily accessible food and drinks and lots of volunteers to help.  Maybe the “tall dogs” an hour ahead of me had it tougher.

One thing about this—there was usually someone to ride with.  When I took off from this stop, I immediately joined a group and we pacelined like old riding buddies.  This lasted something like a whole 10 kilometers, until the next climb.  This climb was Loucrup, third category, and was a little shorter than Labatmale but a little steeper.  Didn’t matter. Same situation: go as hard as you can and try to stay with the group. The downhill after Loucrup was at 80.4 kilometers. It was the last downhill until the summit of the Tourmalet at 119.8 kilometers.  Hell, in fact, there wasn’t a flat road until way after the summit.  Following the short Loucrup descent, things slowly got steeper for almost 40 kilometers (25 miles).

My goal for the section to Loucrup was to average 20 mph.  I think I did that.  My goal for this 25-mile stretch, which included the Tourmalet climb, was 3 hours, or a little more than 8 mph.  I don’t think I made it.

I’m not sure what to say about the Tourmalet climb, because I don’t remember too much.  It was wet.  The roads were pretty good—smooth and clean, mostly.  One thing I do remember is that, while the average grade is supposed to be about 7.5%, I’m sure some parts around hairpin turns were 15% or more.  I couldn’t turn my 34-27 without standing up.  The wet, slick roads didn’t help, either.  Fortunately, those pitches weren’t too long.

One thing about the “big” climbs is that they all have signs that tell you how far you’ve gone, how much farther you have to go, how many more meters you have to climb, and, best of all (NOT!), the average percent grade of the next kilometer.  Even here, an 8% sign can mean 500 meters of 4% and 500 meters of 12%.  So I learned quickly not to kid myself.  The signs just meant that, generally, 6% was easier than 8%, which was easier than 10%.  The changes in gradient up Teton Pass are laser-level compared to the changes on these climbs.

Another thing was how the emotion of the group changed once we hit the real climbing part.  The accelerations stopped, the tense hunched-over positions morphed into sitting up straighter and clearly more relaxed appearance.  That doesn’t mean we weren’t working hard; we just realized we shouldn’t waste any energy on tension.  Rhythms developed, based on breathing or cadence or R&B beats.  Whatever it was, it wasn’t fast.

I seemed to remember there was supposed to be a feed zone on the way up.  Someone said it was only a few kilometers from the top.  In some ways, it seemed like a long time, but in other ways it was like I slept through it.  But, suddenly, out of the rainy mist, a gulag-like fortress appeared.  This was the high-end French ski area called LaMongie.  It was a pack of concrete buildings hiding the tram and ski lift towers.  Between the buildings and the road were what seemed like acres of tables and tents.  Dozens of food offerings, all kinds of sports drinks.  And not one porta-potty.  As I stood at a table and ate and filled my water bottles, I realized I badly needed to get rid of some liquid, and I wasn’t sure I had time to get on my bike and ride a ways to somewhere secluded.  As I was pondering my predicament, I happened to be facing the medical tent (big red cross; I guess that’s what it was).  Just on the other side of the tent was a big bulldozer.  It must have been an inviting target because a couple of guys walked up to it and began to water its treads.  The people going in and out of the medical tent paid them absolutely no mind.  So, hey, if they can do it, so can I.  Any second, while I was making my contribution, I expected to feel the long arm of a gendarme on my shoulder.  But I guess, When in France….

The last few kilometers were the steepest of this climb.  But with the break and fresh food and water, it wasn’t so bad.  Many videos have shown Tour de France riders coming up to the top (the tour de France has gone over the Tourmalet more than any other climb).  This summit has a wall on one side and atop the wall is a huge statue of a guy on a bike.  He’s looking up like he can see how far he still has to climb.  And, like I would, he seems to be moaning in anguish.  I guess that’s supposed to be inspiring.  The other, uh, interesting things about this statue are that he’s naked and buff and anatomically correct.

Even though I wasn’t going fast, the statue was by in a second.  I know you’ll think I’m exaggerating, but the peak of this climb is about 20 feet long and then it’s a 10% switchback descent on the other side.  Despite stopping a few kilometers earlier, I stopped again as the descent started, so I could drink and eat some more.  I knew I wouldn’t be able to for the next 45 minutes or so.

I sure have mixed feelings about this descent.  I thought I would be able to go pretty fast and at least keep up with some of the Euros (who are mostly nuts anyway).  But, with the rain, I wasn’t so keen on risking much.  And neither was anyone else.  We simply cruised.  We couldn’t see a thing because of the clouds.  So we really couldn’t position ourselves to take a turn at speed, since we had no idea if it turned left or right or was 30 degrees or 180 degrees.  The heat we generated up the climb kept us fairly warm here.  The road surface was still good, so it was almost a pleasure.  After about 10 kilometers, the steep part of the descent flattened out but was still downhill.  We turned into a canyon road that reminded me of some Colorado rides: windy roads cut into almost vertical cliffs, a river meandering back and forth under the highway, bridges with spectacular views and steep drop-offs.  I’m sure the Etape organizers didn’t plan it, but this portion raised everyone’s spirits.  Our pacelines could maintain 25 mph without killing anyone, the snatches of scenery buoyed us all.  In the back of my mind was the thought “One more climb”, and that made me feel great.

After about 30 kilometers, we ran out of downhill and I started to not feel so great.  The little villages leading up to the base of Hautacam, the last climb, were just like all the others we had gone through.  If there was a steep little hill anywhere around, this was where the road went.  After the long descent, it was an especially tough struggle to get my legs working again.  But just as we came into Ayros-Arbouix, the town where the climb started, my legs finally warmed up.  The rain had stopped and we were actually starting to dry out.

Unfortunately, it was also about the time my body ran out of energy.  The first couple of kilometers were ok.  But then it was like someone was slowly turning down the burner on a gas stove.  I could feel my energy seeping away.  About a third of the way up the climb, I saw my heart rate was steadily 150-155, when it is usually 160-165.  No matter how I tried, I couldn’t get it any higher.  Mentally, this was the longest part of the ride.  I was with a group that seemed to be in the same situation.  We rode steadily but we were all cooked.  I could see proof of that because everyone’s bike handling went sour.

Hautacam is a dead end, like Grand Targhee.  So to safely get a few thousand cyclists down the mountain while a few thousand were going up it, ASO divided the road for 10 miles to keep everyone apart.  Seems like an ok idea until you remember the road is only 16 feet wide.  And our 8 feet didn’t seem like much room at all at times.  On one of the steeper pitches, somebody wobbled or weaved and that was transmitted through the group until it got to me, who, stupidly, was at the edge of the tarmac and had only the road’s shoulder to weave to.  As I rolled off into the grass, my first thought was to just hop back onto the road.  Then I got a vision of my tire catching the lip of the asphalt and me flipping sideways into the next group.  So I unclipped and swung off the bike and got back onto the road.  This place was steep enough that I knew it would be a struggle getting started so I walked about 30 meters to a flatter place. I have to say, walking up a 10% grade is a lot harder than riding up it.  But I started again and found, again, I was dealing with an empty tank.

A few kilometers from the top, the terrain opens up so you can see quite a ways.  It was a good mindgame to pretend the highest point of the road you could see was the top.  Then, when you got there, and it wasn’t…..  Well, there was always another point to focus on.  As the signs counted down to indicate 10 kilometers to go, then 9, 8, etc., the usual psychological ploy started: energy came from somewhere and we started going faster.  I have no idea how we did it, but we did.  Then, after a big left-hand switchback, a huge inflatable archway crossed the road.  In the middle of the arch was a red triangle with the tip pointed down.  This was the 1-kilometer-to-go sign.  It was almost over, but 1 kilometer at 10% is still a long way.  I don’t know if it took more time or less than any of the other similar kilometers, but it seemed like forever.  The last right-hand bend and there was another huge inflated archway, this one with an electric clock that was just going past 08:35:00.  I rode under the arch, over the timing pad, and was swarmed with volunteers.  I didn’t have time for reflection or joy or any other emotion.  They guided me through the chute, took off my timing chip, and handed me my medal, a snack bar, and a couple of bottles of water.  Then I was deposited at the end of the pack waiting to go down the mountain.  I saw some of the other Cyclomundo riders waiting also.  We gathered and smiled at each other and shook hands and made sure everyone was ok.  Then, we waited, and waited, and waited.

To make things safer on the descent, in addition to the divided highway, the Etape organizers were making people start back down one or two at a time.  This meant a 20-minute wait at the top until your turn.  And when we did start down, most every muscle was either cold, cramped, or exhausted.  The first hundred meters or so weren’t too bad.  But then I guess everything caught up with me and I realized this ride wasn’t over.  My body wasn’t in any shape to be doing this.

I had to force my fingers to move.  The result was like some jerky B-movie Frankenstein.  At the same time that I was cursing to try and make my hands work like they needed to, I was thinking how ironic it would be: I finish 105 miles and fend off eight and a half hours of hypothermia. Then I top it off by a half-second brain fade, and the Hautacam descent spits me into oncoming riders or slams me into the sheer wall four feet from one side of the road or launches me into space off the barrier-less drop off four feet on the other side of the road.

Jeez, how much longer is this downhill?  It seemed like half an hour later when a sweeping left turn opened up into the town of Ayros-Arbouix and the start of the Hautacam climb.  People are everywhere clapping and cheering and smiling; enthusiastic waves at each rider as he comes by.  I almost cry with relief.  But, then, tears DO well up when I realize I don’t have a clue where the house is that Cyclomundo arranged for us to meet at so we could change into warm, dry clothes and get hot food, drinks, and a shower.  Am I going to have to ride all over town, getting more and more deranged and desperate as I get more and more hypothermic?  If I stopped, would I have the will to get started again?  The road bends right and, just as I pass her, I recognize Tina, from Cyclomundo.  She points to a road I just passed and yells, “The house is that way! Just up the hill!”  I’m so elated to see her, I hit my brakes, do a leg-out 180-degree turn onto the roadside grass and pedal back to her.  When I get to her, she points and says, “It’s just that yellow house there.”  I hardly hear her; I just give her a kiss on the cheek and say “Thank you, Thank you. You’re wonderful. Thank you for being here.”  She smiles and quickly turns away.

The house is less than a quarter-mile away and up a small hill.  I didn’t have enough energy to be upset at having to do another hill.  But I am glad there was no traffic because all I could focus on was the house’s wrought iron gate that opened onto the road.  I wheeled through it and saw half a dozen or so other Cyclomundo riders sitting at tables piled with food and drink or on the brick half-wall around the patio, showered and dressed in clean, dry clothes.  They all turned and let out a rousing cheer at my appearance.  I slowed to a stop.  Before I even got my helmet off, Lucile, another Cyclomundo angel, brought me a bowl full of hot, sweetened tea.  It was the first warmth I’d felt in more than 10 hours.  She turned away to help someone else before I could even say thanks.

Iris en pleine découverte de l'une des séries préférées de ses parents...

Depuis quelque temps, elle n'aime pas toujours quand je sors de la pièce où elle se trouve et son regard en dit long quand je réapparais. Ou bien elle semble solliciter mon aide quand, une fois debout, elle voudrait se rasseoir... Elle crie et gémit ou plutôt elle "chouine" comme on dit dans le sud de la France, chose que je connais bien pour l'avoir fait petite. Est-ce que ce sont ses futures dents qui lui font mal ou des rêves qui la perturbent ? Iris crie ou pleure un peu dans son sommeil sans toutefois se réveiller.

Elle a tellement grandit en quelques mois, tant appris de choses, par elle-même et d'elle-même aussi. Depuis qu'elle est née, Iris est une petite fille très facile à vivre, dormant et mangeant bien, souriante, éveillée, rassurante pour ses parents. Vivant depuis l'âge de 7 semaines au Qatar, elle n'a eu qu'un petit rhume en août - que je lui ai transmis - dû à la climatisation.

Dans très peu de temps, elle se tiendra toute seule debout et voudra marcher. Peut-être même qu'elle dira "mama"... 

Vous voyez ici les bretelles, d'entrée et de sortie, de ce qui sera l'échangeur de l'A-85 nord, qui desservira le village de Saint-Louis-du-Ha! Ha!  Elles se raccordent au prolongement de la rue Marquis.

Voici une suite d'images, prises du sud vers le nord, qui montrent que...

...si les bretelles sont, à toutes fins pratiques, complétées,...

...les deux chaussées commencent à peine à prendre forme,...

...et qu'il reste encore beaucoup de travail à accomplir.

Pour les trois photos suivantes, je me suis déplacé près de ce qui était le motel Francoeur, au nord du village.  Ici, on voit le chantier vers le sud,...

...alors qu'ici, nous sommes directement en face de l'ancien motel, où il ne semble plus y avoir d'activité.

Toujours depuis le même endroit, quand on regarde un peu plus au nord, on constate que les travaux de terrassement n'en sont qu'à leurs premiers balbutiements.

Dernière photo de chantier, vers le nord, depuis la côte, là où l'actuelle route 185 se séparait en deux chaussées distinctes, un peu au nord de l'intersection de la rue Commerciale.

Voilà, c'est terminé en ce qui concerne le duo A-85/QC-185.  Si l'on se fie au site web du MTQ, les travaux que l'on a vus, dans l'ensemble des quatre billets, ont débuté en 2006.  Aucune date de fin des travaux n'est mentionnée, ce qui laisse croire que l'ouverture ne se fera pas avant la fin de 2009, peut-être même en 2010.

Il reste deux autres tronçons à compléter, si l'on veut obtenir une véritable autoroute depuis l'A-20 jusqu'à la frontière du Nouveau-Brunswick.  Celui situé au nord du site de la dernière photo est d'une longueur de quelques 40 kilomètres, et s'étend jusqu'à Saint-Antonin.  Le MTQ est dans l'attente de l'avis de recevabilité du Ministère du développement durable, de l'environnement et des parcs (MDDEP), suite au dépôt, en août 2007, de l'étude environnementale.  Quant à celui qui va de Cabano à la frontière, il sera composé de trois chantiers distincts (de Cabano à Notre-Dame-du-Lac, sur 6 km, de Notre-Dame-du-Lac à Dégelis, sur 14 km, et de Dégelis à la frontière, sur 13 km), totalisant 33 kilomètres, et entrecoupés par les aménagements déjà accomplis par le MTQ, soit à Notre-Dame-du-Lac, sur 1,8 km, en 2002, et à Dégelis, sur 1,2 km, en 2004.  Dans ce dossier, toujours selon le site web du MTQ, la préparation des plans et devis a débuté en mai 2008, une fois que le BAPE ait rendu public son rapport, ce qui fut fait le 24 avril 2007.

Ne reste plus qu'à espérer que la suite des choses se fasse avec diligence, si l'on veut rouler, un jour, sur une autoroute sécuritaire, entre Rivière-du-Loup et Edmundston.  Encore une fois, le Québec sera le chaînon manquant, dans ce dossier, puisque la portion néobrunswicoise de la route Transcanadienne (NB-2) est désormais complétée sur deux chaussées distinctes depuis la fin de 2007.

J’arrive assez tard (20.00) et suis accueilli par Marta, la quarantaine, hospitalière bénévole pour cette quinzaine de jours de début août. Marta parle très bien Français et travaille pendant la journée comme postière... Le soir, puis le matin, nous mangeons tous ensemble un morceau (Marta mange avec nous), chacun mettant en commun sur la table les quelques provisions que renferme le sac ce jour-là… Les relations se lient… Certains des groupes (et couples) de marcheurs que je rencontre les jours suivants sur le Chemin se sont formés sous ce préau ce 8 août au soir…

Je vois au petit déjeuner un groupe de trois hommes : l’un d’eux –vêtu d’un T-Shirt bleu- semble muet, mais par force signes et mimiques se fait très bien comprendre de ses camarades-pèlerins… Le jour n’est pas levé depuis une demi-heure qu’íls se mettent déjà en route, sans avoir déjeuné…

Quatre étapes plus loin, je les rencontre à nouveau. Nous sommes au bord de l’océan à l’auberge de jeunesse de Santoña. Tout d’abord je ne les ai pas reconnus : le « muet » porte cette fois un T-Shirt vert avec l’inscription « 100 % sont accros » et parle beaucoup et fort !. Nous dormons dans la même chambre. Le matin c’est lui qui sonne le réveil et accélère les préparatifs du départ : « Dépèchons-nous, compagnons, ne faisons pas attendre Saint-Jacques… » Encore une fois ils partent très tôt sans avoir pris le petit-déjeuner…

Le même soir, ils sont comme moi chez le Père Ernesto à l’auberge de pèlerins de Güemes : ils font la fête et sont bien éméchés, ayant dîné en ville et bu beaucoup… Ils couchent dans une pièce à part et au matin quand je me lève, ils sont partis depuis longtemps…

La quatrième rencontre, c’est deux soirs plus tard, lorsque j’arrive sous la pluie battante à l’auberge de pèlerins « Arco Iris »de Santillana del Mar : ils sont attablés en terrasse sous la bâche et semble avoir déjà bu force bières… L’odeur de la petite fumée bleue qui aide souvent certains pèlerins pour la décontraction musculaire à la fin de l'étappe flotte dans l’air… Nous déconnons ensemble et avec l’hospitalero (hôte) José (un personnage haut en couleurs), tout ceci en Espagnol - langue que je ne parle théoriquement pas…

Après ma douche, je suis heureux de voir que j’ai ma place à la droite du « muet » : j’ai été accepté dans la clique des Bringueurs du Chemin de Saint-Jacques… Juan-Jesus (le prénom est authentique) parle un peu le Français et nous nous entendons comme cochons…

Autour de la table, nous sommes une vingtaine - mi-piétons, mi-cyclistes - et je doit être le seul à ne pas être Espagnol… L´hospitalero José et sa mère Charo (73 ans) s’affairent entre la table et la cuisine et nous amènent prestement les plats de spaghettis (excellent !.. 3 fois Charo nous apporte un plat de rab’…) et les bouteilles de Rouge (un bon Rioja tiré au tonneau dont je compterai pendant le repas 6 bouteilles pour notre seul coin de table). José nous fait écouter une cassette de poésie sur le Camino puis sa mère Charo raconte une histoire que tous écoutent religieusement et à laquelle je ne comprends pas un mot...

Et ça cause, et ça rit.. ! A la fin du repas, nous sommes tous les meilleurs amis du monde et parlons tous la même langue ! Les piétons ont même fraternisé avec les cyclistes, leurs « Ennemis de Classe » sur le Chemin!

Je raconte aujourd’hui mes rencontres avec un groupe particulier de pèlerins (je les ai nommés les « Marx Brothers »). De tels fêtards, je pourrais en décrire vingt. Chaque soir à l’étape il célèbrent la Joie du Camino…

Le Camino, pour les Espagnols, c’est avant tout l’occasion de rencontrer des gens, de se faire de nouveaux amis, de se perdre et de se retrouver, de faire la fête. Chacun marche les kilomètres du chemin et à l’étape les marcheurs se livrent et fraternisent très vite. On sait qu’il n’y a pas beaucoup de temps, et que demain chacun partira de son côté sur le chemin…

Le Camino, c’est comme une grande roulette, avec une multitude de logettes (certaines pour une boule, certaines pour plusieurs boules en même temps) et de boules (chaque pèlerin étant une boule). Le Grand Croupier (chacun peut l’appeler comme il veut) fait chaque jour tourner la roue et les boules se mettent en mouvement en une multitude de spirales folles, s’entrechoquent, accélèrent et ralentissent pour venir s’immobiliser et s’agglutiner –pour le court temps d’une nuit…

Une autre image serait celle d’un cirque itinérant, qui se produirait à chaque soir dans un village différent et ceci pour une représentation unique. Nous-autres pèlerins en sommes les artistes, qui peuvent faire chaque soir un numéro différent et changer arbitrairement de rôle… Ou encore l’image d’une cours médiévale allant chaque jour de château en château et ceci en changeant les rôles en chemin : le Fou devient le Roi, le Chapelain devient le Sénéchal, la Princesse devient une Courtisane, etc…

Ce soir du jeudi 14 août à l'Arco Iris, je suis entré dans la Nef des Fous. Je laisse tourner la ronde du Camino…

La vidéo de la joie du nageur francais Alain Bernard quand il a gagne le 100 m en 47sec 20, c'était ce soir là.

Însă ceea ce credeam că avea să devină cea mai palpitantă experienţă academică a vieţii mele, a fost de fapt cea mai frumoasă aventură a unei deveniri care, dacă nu s-ar fi derulat astfel, eu, cel de azi, nu aş fi fost atât de câştigat. Am învăţat să nu mai fiu atât de credul, să nu mai cred în idealuri false sau irealizabile şi să conştientizez că viaţa înseamnă responsabilitate şi decizii pe care înainte de a le lua, trebuie să le calculezi.

Totul a început cu acea dimineaţă răcoroasă de 1 octombrie 2004, când, trezindu-mă pentru prima oară într-un pat de cămin, într-un mediu ostil, aveam să înţeleg că totul s-a schimbat şi că e vremea să mă schimb şi eu. Iar aventura mea a continuat, timp de patru ani, cu ambiţii, eşecuri, lipsuri sau beneficii, cu colegi mai mult sau mai puţin prietenoşi, cu prieteni prefăcuţi sau amici de nădejde.

Totuşi, ceea ce mi-a făcut cel mai mult bine, exceptând planul financiar, a fost faptul că în toţi anii de facultate am lucrat câte ceva: am meditat la filozofie un elev la Colegiul Economic când eram în anul 1, în anul 2 am lucrat ca pedagog social la un aşezământ social pentru copiii abuzaţi, apoi am plecat în America pentru prima oară, în anul 3 am mers în America pentru a doua oară, iar în anul 4 am muncit la un radio local. Aşa am învăţat să devin independent şi să lupt pentru orice lucru pe care mi l-aş fi dorit sau de care aveam nevoie.

Iar dacă a fost să învăţ ceva util pe plan social, atunci prietenii pe care mi i-am făcut în toţi aceşti ani sunt cu adevărat o realizare de care se cuvine să fiu mândru: George, un prieten alături de care am avut parte de cele mai comice aventuri (am ajuns noi să fim acuzaţi că am "ciordit" undiţa unui preot din Alba Iulia pe când eram la pescuit pe lacul de la Iezeru-Ighiel!), fără de care hălăduirile prin Alba Iulia sau excursiile la Oradea, Arad, Braşov, Sebeş, Cluj-Napoca sau Timişoara nu ar fi fost atât de distractive; de la el am învăţat cumpătarea, am deprins pasiunea pentru "clubbing" şi "high-life" şi am înţeles cât de justificată poate fi revolta faţă de "sistem"; Mihai, un prieten care mi-a fost un adevărat model de hărnicie, care m-a învăţat să pescuiesc (peşti, nu altceva) şi care m-a înţeles în toate frământările mele, pentru că nu a fost niciodată prefăcut; Rareş, un prieten fără de care luptele pentru bursa de merit nu ar fi fost la fel de bine puse la punct sau a doua mea aventură în America nu ar mai fi avut atâta haz; Mircea, Iuliu, Radu... prieteni adevăraţi, oameni lângă care am învăţat să devin şi eu om, oameni care m-au înţeles chiar şi atunci când nici eu nu mă mai înţelegeam.

N-aş putea să-i trec cu vederea pe copiii de la aşezământul social în care am lucrat în anul 2 de facultate, de la care am învăţat să fiu recunoscător pentru tot ce am şi să realizez că primul lucru de care un om are nevoie e să fie acceptat şi iubit, cei care, cu naturaleţe, mi se adresau cu "tată", sfâşiaţi de dorul după adevăratul lor tată: Ionel, Livia, Răzvan, Viorica, Răzvan, Neluţu, Marius, Eva, Raluca, Florina, Crina, Lili şi Silviu au fost prietenii mei cei mai buni poate atunci când încă nu aveam niciun prieten de nădejde.

De asemenea, nu-i voi putea uita pe colegii de la radio care au avut un impact deosebit asupra mea: Emanuel, cea mai bună voce de radio din câte am auzit, un om al dialogului onest şi al adevărurilor spuse pe faţă, Ovidiu, un om extrem de inteligent, cum rar mi-a fost dat să întâlnesc, Oana, care avea puterea de a detensiona prin umorul şi farmecul ei până şi cele mai apăsătoare situaţii sau Dora, care prin pasiunea ei pentru emisiunea pe care o realiza avea puterea de a te învăţa să acorzi atenţie până şi celor mai mici detalii; oameni alături de care m-am simţit privilegiat să lucrez.

Am plecat duminică din Alba Iulia fericit şi uşurat, însă nu ca şi când aş fi scăpat de o povară, ci conştient că, la final, pot privi cu fruntea sus înspre tot ce a însemnat viaţa mea timp de patru ani în Alba Iulia; nu a fost uşor, nu a fost întotdeauna plăcut, dar a meritat, cu siguranţă.

Rămâi cu bine, Alba Iulia, oriunde te-ai afla!

Les premières nouvelles, à ce sujet, montrent diverses variations sur un même thème.  Selon que l'on visite les sites de Corus Nouvelles (Info 690 AM, 98,5 FM), de Radio-Canada, ou encore de Cyberpresse, on parlera de dommages à des voitures qui ont roulé dans l'énorme nid-de-poule, ou qui ont reçu une pluie de béton.  Il n'en demeure pas moins que la chute de ces morceaux de l'une des bretelles illustre très bien l'état de décrépitude de l'échangeur en entier.  Au point où je me demande s'il va tenir le coup en attendant sa reconstruction, qui devrait être complétée en 2015.

Il s'agit de regarder, lorsque l'on arrive de l'autoroute Décarie, la bretelle qui mène vers l'autoroute Bonaventure (A-15 sud, A-20 est), vers le pont Champlain; les travées "font le rond", d'un pilier à l'autre, comme s'il s'agissait d'un vieux pont de bois!  Personne ne me convaincra que ces voies surélevées sont solides.  On roule là-dessus, mais c'est continuellement à nos risques et périls.  Autre point; je me demande si la partie qui s'est effondrée, ce matin, devait ou non être retenue, en principe, par ces fameux trellis métalliques, installés un peu partout sous les parties surélevées du réseau routier québécois.

La prochaine étape, ce sera quoi, selon vous?  La chute d'une partie de la Métropolitaine?

According to ancient Arabic literature, love is classified into seven different shades. This is true even today.

HUB (Attraction): eyes meet, it is like a touch... a spark...

UNS (Infatuation): the touch of the eyes was as if, it was...

ISHQ (Love): the flame of her body is felt, his breath starts igniting...

AQUIDAT (Reverence): she touches him like a whisper, as if silence is mixed in her eyes, he prays, a little consciously, a little unconsciously...

IBAADAT (Worship): he is entangled on her path, entangled in her arms love now turns to...

JUNOON (Obsession): living is an obsession... dying is an obsession... apart from this there is no peace...

MAUT (Death): let him rest in the lap of death... let him drown his body in her soul...

Here is the result: [dailymotion id=x63fwg]

Official Site of Tour de France

There are 2 ways of following the tour online this year:

streetview supported by Google and YouTube and the Live.

I decided to go out with the local guide and the guys from the Cyclomondo tour. There were about 20 of us and the start was a very gentle warm up - perfect, I thought. Then we hit the hills,..
I was clearly the slowest and was immediately dropped off the back. Everybody waited at the top of the climb, and then it was descent and climb. The weather was beautiful and the views of the Pyrennes in the distance were stunning. We did around 35 miles or so in about 2.5 hours -- it was a good workout although I was getting embarassed by making everyone wait by the end. Fred from Reading hunted me down when I lost the back of the peleton coming in to Pau, and we made our way back to the hotel.
After we got back, we went up to the 'Etape village' at the Hippodrome and registered, got our freebie rucksacks & T-shirts and timing chips. We wandered around the village and then back to the hotel. In total, about 50 miles of training which was perfect.
Dinner was good, a short walk away and then it was a good night's rest.

The next morning, I decided that I would do the 'easy' loop that had been suggested for the afternoon. I had been having a few problems with software for the Garmin so I spent some time working out a couple of processes for quickly downloading routes from www.bikeroutetoaster.com and www.mapmyride.com. Once I got them downloaded, I was having problems uploading them to the Garmin. In the end, I had to do a 'hard reset' to get the routes to download OK. It was working well, so I downloaded the afternoon's route which was about 35 miles.
At about mid-day, I set off. The first thing I discovered was that Gerard's idea of 'easy' and mine were somewhat different. While there were no mountains, there were lots of hills. I took it very easily to avoid getting the heart rate up, but that meant the ride took a long time In contrast to the Friday run, it was cool and eventually rainy. It was a longer ride than ideal and my rear derailleur was playing up by the end, so when I got back to Pau, I went up to the Hippodrome and the guys from Mavic sorted the problem out.
Fred had spoken highly of his measurement with Cyclefit - and the shoe beds that he got from them. I had seen that they were offering these at the event, and as my shoes have developed an uncomfortable area on the left foot, I thought I might try some. However €100 for a par of insoles seemed a little rich!!! I was tempted by a special offer on clear glasses, as I only had dark lenses with me, but the deal wasn't quite good enough.
The Garmin started to play up - I suspected that water had got in during the ride, so I left it in the fan output of my notebook to try to dry it out. However, it still wouldn't work reliably, although I did get it charged.
Anyway, back to the hotel and dinner. Each night was a different restaurant and the food gradually got worse over the trip. On the Saturday evening, there was indeed 'endless pasta', but the service was very poor. Still, we certainly 'carb loaded'.
When I got back to the hotel, I got everything ready for the morning. The bike cases had been taken earlier and baggage was due to be taken on the Sunday morning.
I slept really badly - a combination of stress and overeating. At one point I had a nightmare that I had had to return to the UK for a family emergency and then couldn't get back in time for the start. Fortunately, it was only a nightmare, but I woke in a panic...
Race Day
Breakfast was at 5.00 and I really wasn't hungry, but, somehow, I forced some food down :-)
Then we left the hotel about 5.45 for the start and got to the starting pens about 6.00. The organisation of the Etape is brutal and the organisers said that anyone arriving after 6.30 would not be allowed into the pens to start.
The organisation was amazing. There were huge wired 'pens' of riders, 1,000 at a time in columns. It seemed that fast riders were in the first 1000-2000, but other numbers seemed distributed fairly randomly. I was 6257 and the early arrival meant I was near the front of the 6,000s. At 7.00 precisely, the first pen was opened and the first 1,000 started to move out through the start gate and over the timing system.
It took until 7.20 to get to our 'pen' and we were away. I had taken a bottle of sports drink to carb load again and left this at the start.
Off we went and almost immediately it started to rain. Being early it was fairly cold as well - I already had my rain jacket on as well as arm warmers. Sadly, the Garmin could not be revived. I think it has had its day, which is sad.
It was fantastic to ride through Pau on closed roads and peletons were forming all over the place. After a kilometre or so, I found myself behind a couple of girls that were going at just the same pace. They tucked in behind a couple of guys that were riding togeher and I tacked on the back. The pace felt fast, although I didn't have my Garmin so had no way to check my heart rate or speed. I felt as though I wasn't pushing too hard, but was going well. Lots of really fast riders were passing us, with plenty of club peletons, The gruppo stayed together for around 15-20km, but eventually broke up - I think the girls stopped to take their waterproof tops off. That was a bad move as it started to rain again almost immediately!
About an hour in, an Irish guy asked if he could ride with me, but he couldn't even hold my pace and told me that he was really tired. There's no way he was even going to get up the first hills, let alone Tourmalet.
I felt good on the first hills, although there was a fairly horrible 'traffic jam' at Rebenac that forced everybody to walk. The guys that were going for fast times were getting very frustrated!
Anyway, things were fairly uneventful, and I felt as though I was making good progress. After about three hours, I got to the food stop at Lourdes and made the mistake of checking the schedule. It looked as though I was already past the elimination time! Maybe the organisers allowed for the time in the traffic jam, as nobody was stopping anybody and there were lots of riders still coming in. However, it did put me into a state of fear. (on checking this when I got back, it looked as though I escaped by just a couple of minutes at that stage)
During the fourth hour, I really upped the pace and tried to hold my place in peletons, chasing wheels and getting into groups whenever possible. That was a fast hour, almost certainly the fastest hour I have had on a bike, although I still felt that I was below my LT. Finally the road started to tip up as we headed for Tourmalet, with the rain still coming down. The start of the climb was not marked as far as I could see, but the gradient gradually picked up.
Soon there was no question that we were on the climb and I realised that the fast pace had definitely had an effect on my power. However, for the first few kilometres, I made good progress. I caught the back wheel of one frenchman, but we were going very slow and no harm was done, as far as either of us could tell. Fairly early on the climb we passed a hotel. I found myself wondering if they had a nice dry warm bed - after all, I had a credit card with me!
Gradually, the clouds got closer and soon the rain was replaced by cloud. It was still wet and very cold. There were still a lot of kilometres to go and the legs were starting to lose power, my pace dropped. It got to the point where I was only barely able to move forward. Somebody fell off just behind me and I stopped. I got a minute or two of rest as I checked he was OK and when I started the pain in my back and shoulders had eased a lot.
It's strange, the legs weren't hurting but my back and shoulders really did. Occasionally getting out of the saddle eased things for a little while. The idea of stopping seemed an increasingly attractive proposition! I decided that as the pain wasn't getting worse and I had survived so far, then there was no reason not to keep going, Some were starting to fall by the wayside and simply give up, either going back down the mountain or just waiting to be picked up.
There were photographers out and there are some pix here.
The Great Escape
After what felt like an age, I got to the feed station at La Mongie. A guy thrust a sandwich in my hand and it started to go down well. Just nearby a lady was saying that those that had finished at that point could go to a bus. I filled a bottle with water and sports drink and then realised that the lady was working her way towards me. I heard someone say that they didn't want to stop, but she made it clear that this wasn't an option - this was elimination time. There was no way I planned to be hauled in at that point, so I leapt (well relatively) onto the bike and set off for the last 4k or so towards the summit of the Tourmalet.
However, just outside the feed area there was a barrier across the road. There were people at the barrier stopping riders from going through. Arguments were taking place between riders that wanted to go on and the officials.
There was no way I wanted to stop, so when someone squeezed through a gap in the barrier, I was on his wheel and, relatively anyway, sprinted off up the hill. Actually the next kilometre or so went very well. I had good pace and went past quite a few others. However, soon I weakened and it was just sheer bloody mindedness that got me to the top. I stopped once or twice just to 'catch my breath'. There was a timing station about a kilometre short of the summit and that was still working. It was great to hear the beep as I went over (although it's not clear at the time of writing whether I will be able to get a record of the time at that point)
I fully expected to be stopped at the summit and not be allowed to descend. However, there was no barrier and although some seemed to be giving up, the police at the top didn't try to stop us.
The descent was horrible. The visibility didn't seem to be much more than 30-40m at most so I was on the brakes all the time. If I had thought it was cold on the way up, the relative lack of effort allied to the windchill and wet clothes made it absolutely freezing on the way down. I took it reasonably carefully. Someone that obviously knew the descent went flying past me at one point and for a couple of kilometres I managed to follow an ambulance down - the blue flashing lights really helped to see what was coming up. Unfortunately, we got to an uphill section and I couldn't stay with it.
The descent was horrible even when I got below the cloud layer - it was so cold I had to stop a couple of times to restore the feeling in my fingers and to stop shaking - I was worried I would lose control of the bike. Several times I wondered if it would not have been better to allow myself to go in the bus.
Out of the clouds
Towards the bottom, the route swung through some little villages and everyone seemed to have come out to cheer. It really gave a sense of how fantastic it must be to do such a descent in the real Tour. I've never been to a mountain stage to watch, but I think I'd like to now!
Finally, I got to the bottom of the last climb to Hautacam. I had hoped to recover on the descent and had to a very limited extent, but at the base of the climb they were stopping everyone and not allowing anyone to go up to the top. So that was the end of my race. Eliiminated just 20km short. Having said that, most of those 20kms were with a tough gradient uphill, so I doubt that I would have got even half way.
Cyclomundo had a gite rented very close to the bottom and there was a warm drink and loads of food. It was great to tuck into some good food at last....
I called Yvette and gave her the news. Already I was thinking about next year. I couldn't let the Etape beat me!
After recovering for half an hour or so, I went down to the village to hand in my transponder. I saw Nigel from the Farnborough club. He got round in just over 8 hours so it was definitely a tough event. We agreed it was significantly harder than the Dragon ride.
I set out for the hotel at Lourdes. This was around 10-12km away and it probably helped the legs to recover.
At the hotel it was almost dinner time. I showered, which was great and got changed into clean clothes. What a joy! I didn't dare lie on the bed as I wouldn't have woken up!
Despite the food just a couple of hours before, there was no problem with eating. The first beer of the evening was absolute nectar. The food at the hotel was very average, but the red wine was adequate and very cheap, so I 'relaxed' nicely and in good company. A couple of us ended in the bar for a nightcap. Or two.
I was the only one from the group at the hotel that got eliminated. Fred was just 15 minutes outside his target time for a gold - a really tough one as he probably lost ten minutes at the traffic jam. Another friend, Jack, broke his saddle on the descent and had to ride up Tourmalet 'out of the saddle'.
I half thought about delaying the return home by a day so that I could have a go at Tourmalet, but in the end I decided that it was not a great idea. It wasn't quite as cold and wet today, but I didn't have clean riding gear etc.
In the end, I think I blame those that made me shave my legs for charity. Clearly, the insulation would have kept my legs warmer and I suspect some kind of 'Samson' effect. :-)
The morning after...
This morning, I was woken by some people going to catch the 6.00am shuttle and didn't get back to sleep again. So it was up for breakfast and to pack up the bike. I just about managed to get it into the box. I had a few aches, but nothing too bad, considering. Most of the people at the breakfast table still had tingling in their fingertips from the cold of the previous day!
I'm writing this on the TGV on the way to Bordeaux to catch the plane and looking forward to lunch - it's amazing how hungry you get the day after a long ride!
So, the question is 'Should I try again next year?'. No real question. I set out to do the Etape, and do it I will. I've started to understand quite how tough it is and so I'm going to have to really boost my speed and lose the last 10 pounds or so, I plan to see the physio again to get a test and a new training plan for the second half of the year. I'm going to have to get to the speed to hang with the 'fast group' at the club. If I can't keep up with Nigel and his friends, I don't think I'll be able to do the Etape at all. I also need to build up my back and shoulder strength. Pilates is looking a good option, if I can find a class locally. I may also check out Cyclefit although if they tell me I have the wrong size bike, I'm in trouble! On the other hand, I might be able to get a new frame and transfer the hardware across. I'm generally happy with the Ultegra SL stuff on my Roubaix. That would limit the financial damage :-)
I'll have to get a new Garmin - I really can't rely on the current one if it gets wet. I'll probably just get an out of warranty replacement one from them, or even look for a new one if the price is right. I don't think I'll bother with the 705 yet - maybe next year.
Another question is whether to go with Cyclomundo next year. I probably will as the general organisation was pretty good. It was a shame that the food detiorated steadily over the four days, but the company was great and not having to worry about logistics was a real bonus.
Before the event, I thought that the professionals that will cover the course in four hours or so were very fit and strong, but now I'm in complete awe at what they do for three weeks on the Tour de France.
As they say in these parts, "Chapeau!'.
(Watch the professionals cover the same course in Stage 10 of the tour on Monday 14th July - a good day for the French!)

The last week has not been the best for training. Last Friday I had to go to Duesseldorf to check out venues for our conference, DisplayForum. A late return on Friday night made my training ride on Saturday less effective than ideal, so on Sunday I did an 'endurance' ride, mainly on the flat. I didn't think I was very fast, but the ride was the fastest I've ever done of that length, so it couldn't have been too bad!

On Tuesday, I had to visit Munich to see some clients, and that meant a late Monday night and a very late flight back to Stansted, getting home in the early hours of Wednesday. Not the ideal preparation! I did my last lactate threshold (LT) ride before the big one, but it wasn't very quick.

On Wednesday evening, I took the plunge and shaved my legs. As you can see on my donation website, I was offered a donation if I was ready to shave my legs for the big ride. Once I said I would do it, offers came in from a number of directions (most of them in the US - I'm not sure what that means!) if I would go through with this. The bids got higher, so I said I'd do it. The team at Meko, offered money if I waxed them, but that was a step too far for me - especially as one of the conditions was that they would do it...

So when Yvette got home from work, out came a razor and I shaved them. As she said, 'Now you understand why women are so long in the bathroom - there's a lot to do'. (picture to follow - it's on the home server). The scrapes and bashes on my legs from occasional mountain biking episodes became very obvious and it highlights my knock knees, I think. Still, 'tis done.

(The theory behind leg shaving for cyclists was said to be aerodynamic improvement, but has more recently been justified as it not only makes it easier to get the dirt out of 'gravel rash' injuries and also makes the leg massages received by professionals easier. Some think that it is popular because it gives better muscle definition. My own view is that it is simply a 'badge of committment' that joins you to the club of serious cyclists!)

Anyway, Thursday dawned - time to start my journey. On Wednesday, I had checked the times of flights to Bordeaux on BA and I checked the times for the train. I saw that there was a 16.20 flight, so I planned to leave on the 1.57 train. On Thursday morning, I packed everything and did some email processing.

Just after midday, I decided to check in online, to save time at the airport. When the boarding pass came off the printer, I saw that the flight time was 1.35! Ooops!!! Fortunately, Yvette was at home, so we threw everything in the car and dashed off to the airport. Even more fortunately, apart from a slow down on the M25 where there were some road works, there were no hold-ups and we made it to the airport at just 1.00 (so, honestly officer, I didn't go over the speed limit at all....). I had time to buy a couple of books before getting onto the plane.

All went well on the journey from Bordeaux airport to Pau by train. Once I arrived, I was collected by the tour organisers, Cyclomundo, who whisked me off to a very nice local restaurant for dinner. Here were more Etape cyclists, so there was lots of chat of Dragon Rides, Marmottes, Granfondo Cymru etc... Good company, good food and 'une petite verre' in a delightful environment. What could be better?

Back to the Ibis at Pau. This only took two dialogues with locals and the use of my gps to find! Fortunately, my bike had arrived safely by Fedex and I spent the end of the evening re-assembling it to make sure that all was well. It looks fine. (others that I met at dinner were still waiting for luggage and bikes, sent via Charles de Gaulle in Paris, to arrive. CdeG seems to have the worst reputation in Europe for lost luggage, occasional peaks at Heathrow notwithstanding)

So, after sorting my email and writing this, I have a couple of business items to attend to and then I will probably go out on the ride that's planned for this afternoon. If it's too fast, I'll drop out. I need to preserve the legs! Then, I plan to go to collect my 'dossard' or race number pack at the Hippodrome.

I'm sitting in the Rapha offices in Kentish Town, London, looking through a Condor catalog, and I see those words on, coincidentally, a Rapha ad, a black mountain silhouetted against a black sky. Tomorrow I leave to die many times. If I'm lucky, not one of those times will be for real.

Nous sommes ici sur la route 112 ouest, en direction de Magog, depuis Sherbrooke, et la bretelle que l'on voit permet de prendre l'A-10 est/A-55 nord, pour retourner vers Sherbrooke ou Drummondville. Au loin, on voit le viaduc sous lequel passe la route 112, à la suite duquel...

...on retrouve l'accès, via la bretelle, à gauche, à l'A-10 ouest/A-55 sud, vers Montréal, ou la frontière américaine. Par la suite, la route 112 est parallèle à l'autoroute, sur une distance d'environ 5 kilomètres.

On retrouve, ici, un viaduc, sous lequel on peut changer de direction.

Cette fois, nous sommes à la fin des voies de service. La bretelle, à droite, mène vers l'A-10 ouest/A-55 sud, alors que si l'on garde les voies de gauche, on se retrouvera sur le boulevard Bourque, en direction d'Omerville, et de Magog.

J'imagine bien le développement futur de l'A-15, vers le nord, entre Sainte-Agathe-des-Monts et Mont-Tremblant, fait de cette façon, car il faudra bien que cette autoroute se réalise un jour. D'ailleurs, plusieurs indices permettent de croire que cela va se produire, d'ici les prochaines années. D'abord, la route 117 fut reconstruite, ces dernières années, à la hauteur de Mont-Tremblant (Saint-Jovite), avec des échangeurs étagés, auxquels on a accolé des numéros qui sont tout simplement la suite de ceux des sorties de l'A-15. Ensuite, le même genre d'amélioration a été effectuée à Saint-Faustin--Lac-Carré, soit un échangeur étagé, avec numéro de sortie correspondant. Je crois que le reste de la distance ne sera qu'une question de temps, et bien sûr, de budget.

Maintenant, allons plus à l'ouest, sur l'A-10, pour voir l'avancement de quelques chantiers.

Nous sommes ici sur ce qui était la route 112, à l'ouest de Magog. On est à reconfigurer complètement l'échangeur de la route 112, qui correspond à la sortie 115 de l'A-10. D'ailleurs, ce viaduc, sur lequel circulaient les véhicules en direction ouest, va disparaître,...

...tout comme celui-ci, en direction est, que l'on voit au loin, et sur lequel passait une voiture, au moment de la prise de la photo. C'est que ces deux viaducs font partie des 135 structures à dalle épaisse, qui furent inspectés d'urgence par le MTQ, à l'automne de 2007. Comme on voulait refaire tout l'échangeur, on a donc décidé de les raser au sol, ce qui sera fait dans les prochaines semaines, à moins que ça ne le soit déjà, au moment où vous lisez ces lignes.

On voit ici le chemin temporaire, qui mène à la route 141, vers le mont Orford, et la bretelle, à droite, qui conduit vers l'A-10 ouest. Par contre, je n'ai aucune idée de la nouvelle configuration de l'échangeur. Je mets donc cette image à titre d'illustration seulement.

À une quinzaine de kilomètres plus à l'ouest, nous pouvons voir les travaux de la sortie 100, à la hauteur de Saint-Étienne-de-Bolton, qui sera transformée, probablement à l'automne, en un échangeur complet. La sortie, en direction ouest, commence à prendre forme,...

...alors que l'entrée, en direction est, semble plus avancée, encore.

Bon, que me reste-t-il, parmi les choses à vous montrer? On commence à passer au travers, là. Il me reste l'A-55, entre Drummondville et Sherbrooke (oui, oui, l'ancienne A-51), et les travaux de l'A-15, entre Blainville et Saint-Jérôme. Mais ne craignez rien; je me mettrai à la chasse d'autres merdes du MTQ très bientôt!

Des nouvelles de la blogue-mobile

Ma nouvelle acquisition m'a fait chier faux-bond, vendredi dernier. Je voulais l'utiliser pour aller passer le week-end dans les Laurentides, mais une fois à Laval, sur l'A-15 nord, en plein bouchon de circulation, le moteur s'est mis à chauffer au-delà de la normale. De plus, je me suis retrouvé sans pédale d'embrayage, à cause d'une petite fuite dans le circuit d'embrayage, à moins que les 11 mois de remisage ont fait en sorte que de l'humidité se soit installée dans le liquide du circuit. J'ai donc dû rebrousser chemin, et mettre plusieurs heures pour ramener la bête à la maison, question de ne pas endommager le moteur.

J'ai remplacé le thermostat, hier (lundi), mais le problème est toujours présent. L'étape suivante sera donc le radiateur, puisque je n'ai détecté aucune fuite en provenance de la pompe à eau. Le fait qu'il s'agisse d'un deuxième véhicule, que je compte utiliser de façon occasionnelle seulement, me met beaucoup moins de pression que s'il s'agissait de mon seul véhicule. Aussi, mon unique frustration est que je suis arrivé dans le nord vers les 23h15, alors que je voulais arriver là-bas avant 19h00.

So, yesterday evening I went for a two hour ride around the Frimley fuel allotments and down to Swinley Forest. Swinley's a lovely place to ride although there are some tough gradients (although only short). There seemed to be some kind of run being prepared, but I didn't stop to find out what.

I spent too long in the bottom zone of the five zones that I'm using, so the training may not have been of the highest quality, but it would have been good for recovery!

So, as I was due on a plane this evening, I got up early and was out on the bike this morning. This session was a lactate threshold ride and I went around my favourite 'Pirbright loop', a 17 mile course from home. I did it in just over an hour, but all the traffic lights were against me!
Although the ride was the second best time I've ever done for the loop, I don't think I'm that much faster than this time last year, although I was probably going with less intensity. I've cut around 15% off my time for the loop over the last couple of years which is not too bad, especially as I have been concentrating on stamina rather than speed. Perhaps I'll try to go faster next year!

Anyway, in the end the trip was delayed for a day as one of the companies that I was going to see went into liquidation today!

Back to cycling, I can probably get an 'extra' early ride tomorrow morning - I think an hour or so with some LT intervals. Friday I'll rest. Saturday I'll do the Egham 20 mile LT dash and then a couple of hours at endurance pace on Sunday as I start to taper towards next week.

More soon...

Ostensibly, the main reason for the blog at this point is that I'm coming to the culmination of a two year plan to ride the Etape du Tour de France (more later). So that's where I'll start.

In 2006, I decided that I was getting way too fat and unfit. I started to do some more bike riding. I set my first target of doing a 'century' (100 mile/160km ride). I started to learn a bit about fitness and bought a heart rate meter and later a Garmin Edge 305 GPS (about which more, later).

In the past, I'd ridden some 60 mile events including the London to Cambridge, London to Oxford, London to Southend and the London to Brighton (see a pattern here?) I thought that these were about killing yourself and dragging through the last few miles of pain. I decided to sign up for the Oxford to Cambridge ride - not a 100 miler,  but an 85 miler, so a significant step up.

Although the weather was pretty horrible for the first couple of hours, I 'buddied up' with another rider of vintage years. We took it pretty easy and I was able to conserve some energy. About an hour from the end I felt very strong, so I decided to 'go for it'. The last hour was great and the fastest hour of the ride. I had discovered some of the secrets of long distance riding, and was hooked!

I decided to set my sights high and decided to target the Etape, famous as it is among amateur riders, especially those that like 'Sportives' - long distance rides against the clock - not necessarily races. However, the Etape is a toughie and I was pretty overweight, so I decided that a two year plan was needed. In the first year, the aim was to do a hundred miles and at least one mountain as the Etape was usually around 100 miles and more than one mountain. It usually follows the course of one of the difficult mountain stages of the full Tour de France.

I started to train fairly seriously in early 2007 although I started to try to lose weight from earlier. I signed up for a sportive known as the 'UK Etape' - the first stage of the Tour de France - which  started in London in 2007.  That was a 115 mile ride and I made it to the end and again felt strongest in the last hour. The ride of the last fifteen miles or so down to Canterbury was fantastic.

I persuaded my long-suffering wife, Yvette, to go to the Alps for our holiday. She doesn't like hot weather, but we stayed in the Vercors (highly recommended) which was beautifully cool at night and wonderful to cycle around. I also planned to make my way up Alpe d'Huez - one of the most famous climbs for cyclists in the Alpes.

I made it up the climb during the holiday, although at something less than half the speed of Lance Armstrong or Marco Pantani. I knew that I couldn't beat a real rider, but I was able to beat Lance's (ex-) girlfriend, Sheryl Crow who, according to the Washington Post, did it in 97 minutes. I made it in 92 minutes and it didn't kill me, so now I knew that I could ride a 100 mile ride and could climb a mountain. Now all I had to do was to do it on the same day!

I watched the reports on the 2007 Etape with horror. The weather turned out to be really hot 40 degrees (104F) and there were five climbs. I heard reports of 20% drop outs and wondered if I could really do it!

One of the joys of the Etape is that it's a closed road event. That is to say, the roads are closed to non-cyclists, making progress much smoother as there's no need to watch out for traffic and you can use the whole road, for example when descending the mountains. The downside is that the police don't like to keep the road closed forever, so there's a cut off. If you go too slow and the 'wagon balai' or broom wagon catches you, you're out. So to complete the Etape, you have to not only complete the course, but you have to do it at a reasonable pace.

Fortunately, when the 2008 route was announced, the organisers had made it at least a little easier than 2007. You can see the route here. It's 100 miles with two big climbs - Tourmalet - 1800m of climbing and another famous climb and Hautacam - which is 1200m. Tourmalet starts around 60 miles in. Still a lot easier than the five climbs in the 2007 event.

In preparation, I've been losing weight (about 3.5 stones [just under 50lbs/22kg] in the first year and another stone [14 lbs/6kg] this year) and training as often as my travel schedule allows.

I started training using a book on long distance cycling which was very helpful in planning my 'off season training'. In the spring, I heard of an advice session on riding a sportive at Hampton Court so I went along. I was impressed with the talk by Dr Garry Palmer, so signed up with his Sportstest organisation. I went for his VO2 max torture test.

I was pleased that I was fitter than I thought, with a higher maximum heart rate than I had expected. I also tested my resting heart rate and found that lower than I had expected - 46 that week and 42 a couple of weeks later.

Garry set me a new training schedule which was less strenuous on the long rides.

I had joined the local Farnborough and Camberley Cycling club and had been going on the Sunday 'cafe run' since before Christmas. Typically, these runs are off 50 - 60 miles with a stop for cakes and coffee at the half way point. Unfortunately, these are typically at slightly above the heart rate that was optimum for me. So, after the test, I started to do more rides on my own at lower heart rates with a couple of sessions per week at or around my lactate threshold.

He also told me to eat more as I was in danger of trying to lose too much weight too soon and actually losing muscle rather than just fat.

Go slower and eat more - not the advice I expected to get!

For around six weeks, the results didn't really work out, but then they kicked in and over the last couple of weeks I seem to have significantly accelerated my riding speed. So eating more and going slower seems to work!

Last weekend, I rode the Dragon Ride which is a tough one - 115 miles (180km) and 10,000 feet of climbing (3000m). I managed to finish OK, and in just over eight hours, which was faster than I expected. Unfortunately, the Garmin was playing up, so I don't have a complete track, but got the main points.

Yesterday, Sunday the 22nd of June, I went for a club ride to Popham airfield. It turned out to be longer than I expected at 75 miles, and there were some solid hills. The legs felt it, but I'm recovering today. Next weekend, it will be a training ride, not a club run!

I also need to start planning my 'taper' and my shipping of the bike. I'm worried that I've heard that BA can be painful on delivering bikes on the same plane as the passenger where they are in a big box and I really don't want to risk the bike turning up in Bordeaux when I'm several hours on a TGV away, so I think I'll have to ship it by another method.

More updates soon...

check this out, has a good preview of the Etape for those of you lucky enough to be riding it.

Message supprimé.
J’oublie les étapes et je transpire à grosses gouttes. Le métro s’est torturé toute la journée à chercher le chemin de chez toi, sans succès… Il ne veut pas se souvenir et me fait tourner en rond dans les souterrains de la ville. Je suis sous la terre à faire battre le sol au-dessus de moi. Mon cœur en liberté passe d’une rame à l’autre.
Les portes coulissantes s’ouvrent parfois, pas toujours.
J’y pense, j’ai ce numéro de téléphone écrit en dessous de ton nom, n’empêche que ça pourrait n’être qu’une coïncidence.

Mood musical: Xiu Xiu - Pox
Pilosité faciale: 10 jours
Taux d’amabilité: désorganisé
Taux de dérision: sinusoïdal

La doi ani distanta unde ne aflam? Sigur am intrat in Liga Campionilor dar nu stim exact ce cautam acolo, am putea spune ca am evoluat, ne-am mai pus o pelerina care sa ne protejeze de ploaia de scuipat aruncata zilnic, de catre cine? Tot de catre noi. Dar de ce ne place sa il invocam pe Dumnezeu cand tocmai noi suntem ucigasii fotbalului nostru autohton si implicit european? Am spus ucigasi? Va rog sa ma scuzati, am vrut sa spun sinucigasi.

Ne aflam in fata ultimelor sase etape intr-o situatie, spun unii tridimensionala pentru nivelul campionatului nostru. Daca vedeti cifra 6 tridimensional ce vedeti?

Cineva spunea ca trebuie sa trecem prin Iad ca sa ajungem sa intelegem Paradisul. Sper sa mai scape cineva din Iad , macar un Adam si o Eva ca sa o luam de la inceput…

cum spuneam Marea Proprietara nu stie cum se face managementul nervilor si al crizelor. ea nu a aflat de cand presteaza in domeniu ca in orice proiect exista niste etape:

1. etapa de propunere - tremurici de inima, de neuroni care se tem ca trebuie sa treaca la aparat, nu stii daca va fi acceptat proiectul

2. etapa de acceptare - spune bou da, sunt indeajuns de batut in cap incat vreau sa fac proiectu asta cu tine, vreau sa iti dau tie un car de bani, doar ptr ca eshti bata, da ai noroc de sclavi cu creieri la minte care te scot din hasnaua aia mare in care reusesti sa te auto scufunzi

3. etapa de initiere proiect - agitatzia sporeste, nervii se strang, da, fah, eshti inca destul de calma, ca mai ai timp...iti trebuie doar organizare!!!! si trebuie sa si pricepi, nu sa isi piarda 4 oameni 45 de minute cu tine ca sa intelegi o idee.....

4. etapa de ultima suta de metri.....adik etapa de CRIZA!!!! ACUM si abia acum ne enervam, ne crizam, zbieram cat ne tzin maduvele laringiene, da-r-ai in comotzie verbala sa dai, ca aia neuronala te-a lovit din fasha!!!

5. etapa de implementare - suntem prea ocupatzi si epuizatzi fizic si psihic ca sa mai putem sa facem ceva!!!

la Marea Proprietara etapele sunt asa:

1. Crize

2. Bucurie manifestata prin crize

3. crize severe

4. crize acuto-dramatice, sa te futa dracii, da-m-as cu creierii de tavan, neuronii mei si-au dat spam.

5. ma crizez oricum pentru ca dupa ce m-am obosit atat de mult crizandu-ma acum trebuie sa mai si muncesc!!!!

pe principiul: ma crizez deci exist, deci toata lumea ajunge epuizata si supta de orice materie cenusie, culoarea petrolului si chiar si neagra,

Crizcartes

Liga 1 (România) - etapa a 27-a:

Vineri:

• Poli Iaşi - Unirea Urziceni, 19:00

Sâmbătă:

• U. Craiova - Gloria Bistriţa, 15:30
• Oţelul - Dinamo, 16:30
• Poli Timişoara - "U" Cluj, 18:30
• Farul - Rapid, 20:45

Duminică:

• Gloria Buzău - FC Vaslui, 16:30
• CFR Cluj - Pandurii, 18:30
• Ceahlăul - UTA, 19:00
• Steaua - Dacia Mioveni, 20:30

Premier League (Anglia) - Etapa a 33-a:

Sâmbătă:

• Arsenal - Liverpool, 14:45
• Aston Villa - Bolton Wanderers, 17:00
• Blackburn Rovers - Tottenham, 17:00
• Fulham - Sunderland, 17:00
• Manchester City - Chelsea, 17:00
• Newcastle United - Reading, 17:00
• Wigan Athletic - Birmingham City, 17:00

Duminică:

• Middlesbrough - Manchester United, 15:30
• Everton - Derby County, 17:00

Marţi:

• West Ham United - Portsmouth, 21:45

FA Cup (Cupa Angliei) - semifinale:

• West Bromwich Albion - Portsmouth, sâmbătă, 14:15
• Barnsley - Cardiff City, duminică, 18:00

Serie A (Italia) - Etapa a 32-a:

Sâmbătă:

• AS Roma - Genoa, 19:00
• AC Milan - Cagliari, 21:30

Duminică:

• Atalanta - Internazionale Milano, 16:00
• Catania - SSC Napoli, 16:00
• AC Parma - Lazio Roma, 16:00
• Fiorentina - Reggina, 16:00
• Sampdoria - Livorno, 16:00
• Siena - Udinese, 16:00
• AC Torino - Empoli, 16:00
• Palermo - Juventus, 21:30

Primera Division (Spania) - Etapa a 31-a:

Sâmbătă:

• Osasuna - Recreativo Huelva, 21:00
• RCD Mallorca - Real Madrid, 23:00

Duminică:

• Athletic Bilbao - Espanyol, 18:00
• Atletico Madrid - Almeria, 18:00
• Levante - Real Valladolid, 18:00
• RC Santander - Deportivo la Coruna, 18:00
• Real Murcia - Valencia, 18:00
• Real Zaragoza - Betis Sevilla, 18:00
• Sevilla FC - Villarreal, 20:00
• FC Barcelona - Getafe, 22:00

Bundesliga (Germania) - Etapa a 27-a:

Vineri:

• MSV Duisburg - Energie Cottbus, 21:30

Sâmbătă:

• Arminia Bielefeld - Karlsruhe SC, 16:30
• Eintracht Frankfurt - 1. FC Nurnberg, 16:30
• FC Schalke 04 - Hansa Rostock, 16:30
• Hertha BSC - Werder Bremen, 16:30
• VfB Stuttgart - Hamburger SV, 16:30
• VfL Wolfsburg - Hannover 96, 16:30

Duminică:

• Borussia Dortmund - Bayer Leverkusen, 18:00
• Bayern Munchen - VfL Bochum, 18:00

Ligue 1 (Franţa) - Etapa a 32-a:

Sâmbătă:

• Rennes - Bordeaux, 18:10
• Auxerre - Sochaux, 21:00
• Saint-Etienne - Le Mans, 21:00
• Nice - Lille, 21:00
• RC Strasbourg - AS Monaco, 21:00
• RC Lens - FC Metz, 21:00
• SM Caen - Valenciennes, 21:00
• Toulouse - Lorient, 21:00

Duminică:

• Nancy - PSG, 19:00
• Olympique Marseille - Olympique Lyon, 22:00

Eredivise (Olanda) - Etapa a 32-a:

Vineri:

• Roda Kerkrade - NEC Nijmegen, 21:30

Sâmbătă:

• Willem II Tilburg - SC Heerenveen, 20:30
• Twente Enschede - Excelsior Rotterdam, 21:00
• Vitesse Arnhem - Sparta Rotterdam, 21:00

Duminică:

• VV Venlo - AZ Alkmaar, 13:30
• Ajax Amsterdam - De Graafschap, 15:30
• Feyenoord Rotterdam - FC Utrecht, 15:30
• FC Groningen - NAC Breda, 15:30
• PSV Eindhoven - Heracles Almelo, 15:30

bwinLIGA (Portugalia) - Etapa a 25-a:

Vineri:

• Pacos Ferrerira - Vitoria Guimaraes, 22:30

Sâmbătă:

• Academica Coimbra - Vitoria Setubal, 20:45
• FC Porto - Estrela Amadora, 22:45

Duminică:

• Maritimo Funchal - Nacional Madeira, 18:00
• Uniao Leiria - Naval, 18:00
• Sporting CP - SC Braga, 20:30
• Boavista Porto - SL Benfica, 22:45

Luni:

• Leixoes - Belenenses

Premier League (Scoţia) - Etapa a 33-a:

Sâmbătă:

• Celtic - Motherwell, 17:00
• Kilmarnock - Heart of Midlothia, 17:00
• Gretna - Iverness CT, 17:00
• Hibernian - St. Mirren, 17:00

Duminică:

• Dundee United - Rangers, 16:00

 Luni: 

• FC Aberdeen - Falkirk, 21:45

Jupiler League (Belgia) - Etapa a 29-a:

Vineri:

• KAA Gent - VV St. Truiden, 21:30

Sâmbătă:

• Cercle Brugge - Mons-Bergen, 21:00
• FC Bruxelles - KV Mechelen, 21:00
• Dender - Charleroi, 21:00
• RKC Genk - KSC Lokeren, 21:00
• Roeselare - GB Antwerp, 21:00
• Zulte-Waregem - Club Brugge, 21:00

Dumincă:

• Standard Liege - Excelsior Mouscron, 19:00
• VC Westerlo - RSC Anderlecht, 21:30

Demain, les coureurs rouleront entre Zottegem et Coxyde. Une seconde étape longue de 192 kilomètres. Rappelons que cette course est pour beaucoup de coureurs l'occasion de peaufiner leur condition en vue du Tour des Flandres.

Il est là, le message que je retiens de cet article.  C'est que la très grande majorité des activistes de l'environnement se classent en deux catégories; 1- des jeunes qui vivent encore chez papa/maman, et qui n'ont jamais tenu un volant entre leurs mains, ou 2- des gens d'âge plus mûr, comme Al Gore, qui roulent un gros SUV en culpabilisant tout-un-chacun, et qui résument leur discours à "faites ce que je dis, pas ce que je fais".  Je suis convaincu que si l'on donnait la chance, à tous ces activistes, de prendre le volant d'une voiture excitante à conduire, et de faire une ballade de rêve, ils en redemanderaient presque tous!  Bref, en visant les automobilistes "at large", les environnementalistes se tirent dans le pied!

Je cherchais ce texte dans le site, afin de mettre le lien ici, et j'ai vu un autre article du même auteur, publié un mois auparavant, sous le titre "La fin du pétrole, pas de la voiture".  Il parle cette fois de Iain Carson, journaliste au mensuel The Economist, et co-auteur du livre Zoom, qui élabore sur le fait que le pétrole ne pourra continuer d'augmenter indéfiniment, mais que la voiture est beaucoup trop pratique pour disparaître.

Il s'agit là d'un autre argument que j'utilise souvent pour plaider en faveur de l'achèvement du réseau routier supérieur dans le grand Montréal, et à travers tout le Québec.  D'intéressantes nouvelles technologies, beaucoup moins polluantes que le pétrole, sont présentement à l'étape du développement, et plus les prix du pétrole vont augmenter, plus la réalisation à grande échelle de ces nouvelles technologies seront imminentes.  Mais en bout de ligne, ces nouveaux véhicules auront besoin de routes, tout comme les véhicules actuels, et c'est pourquoi il faut compléter notre réseau routier, qui demeure une oeuvre inachevée.

Voici une liste, exhaustive et incomplète, des liens routiers à être complétés, dans le grand Montréal, afin d'obtenir un réseau routier fonctionnel et efficace.

Évidemment, il n'y a pas de date pour la réalisation de ces ouvrages, parce que premièrement, il serait impossible de tout faire en même temps, et deuxièmement, il faudrait y aller par ordre de priorités.  Mais un jour ou l'autre, il faudra bien le faire.

Dans cette étape disputée entre Fleurie et Saint-Etienne, sur 165,5km, Carlstrom s'est échappé au bout de huit kilomètres avec deux autres coureurs, Clément Lhotellerie et Bradley McGee. Il ont compté jusqu'à 13 minutes d'avance sur leurs poursuivants.

Carlstrom s'est finalement imposé en 4 heures, 39 minutes, 14 secondes, le Français Lhotellerie terminant dans le même temps.

Chavanel, qui a terminé à 43 secondes, a pris la tête du classement général, avec trois secondes d'avance sur l'Espagnol Luis-Leon Sanchez. AP

Évidemment, le président du syndicat des employés de Bombardier (CSN), là-bas, Mario Lévesque, trouve bien regrettable que le fait de revenir à l'étape de l'appel d'offres retardera tout le processus, et fera en sorte que les quelques 300 membres de son syndicat qui sont sur la liste de rappel, et dont plusieurs ont épuisés leurs prestations de chômage, devront patienter encore avant de pouvoir être rappelés au travail.  De son côté, le directeur général de la Corporation de développement économique (CDE) locale, François Gendron, est d'avis que cette procédure entraînera de "longs délais inutiles", et qu'elle ne représente qu'une source de perte de temps.  Je ferai remarquer à messieurs Lévesque et Gendron que si le gouvernement n'avait pas tenté de contourner ses propres règles en accordant d'abord le contrat de gré à gré à Bombardier, ils n'en seraient pas là - et nous non plus.

Mais la déclaration la plus inquiétante à mes yeux est celle de Geneviève Dion, porte-parole de Bombardier Transport, qui a déclaré au Journal de Montréal "Nous allons répondre (à l'appel d'offres) et mettre tout en branle pour préparer une proposition compétitive avec les dernières technologies".  Je me demande en fait à quoi rime les derniers mots de sa phrase, "avec les dernières technologies".  Est-ce à dire que n'eut été de l'appel d'offres, Bombardier nous aurait refilé de la camelote?

Tout cela pour dire que si l'on se targue de gouverner avec transparence, le fait d'accorder un contrat de 1,2G$ de gré à gré à une entreprise, serait-elle québécoise, est une erreur monumentale.  Les contribuables québécois feront encore une fois les frais des maladresses gouvernementales dans ce dossier, cette fois signées par le parti libéral.  Il faut toutefois souligner, à la décharge du parti, que le ministre responsable dans ce dossier, Raymond Bachand, est un ancien péquiste, ce qui me fait dire que l'un dans l'autre, les partis politiques, au Québec, sont souvent des copies carbone les uns des autres.