The Tourmalet and the Niners

Day 35: Bagnères-de-Bigorre → Pierrefitte-Nestalas (40 miles / 5,500 ft.)

We had been waiting for this day for the entire trip. We woke at Aude’s home near the base of the Col du Tourmalet at about 7:30, and the weather forecast looked good. Aude prepared the perfect power breakfast: warm grains with chunks of apple, yogurt, honey, and bread. After saying goodbye to our dear friend once again, we pointed our bicycles toward one of the most legendary climbs in cycling.

From Bagnères-de-Bigorre, the road gradually rises through the Campan Valley before the official climb begins at Sainte-Marie-de-Campan. From there, it is about 17 kilometers of steady climbing, gaining more than 4,000 feet before reaching the summit at 6,939 feet.

The temperature changed with the elevation. It was cold near the bottom, hot while we were working our way uphill, and cold again when we stopped pedaling at the summit. The road climbed past forests, open mountainsides, grazing animals, and the ski village of La Mongie. Above us were blue skies mixed with clouds, with the higher Pyrenean peaks spreading in every direction.

Other cyclists were climbing too, and everyone seemed to understand the importance of the day. There were greetings, encouragement, and the quiet camaraderie that develops among people suffering toward the same summit.

The Tourmalet has appeared in the Tour de France more often than any other major mountain pass. It was first crossed in 1910, during a brutal 326-kilometer stage through the Pyrenees. Octave Lapize was the first rider over the summit and went on to win the Tour that year.

A few years later, Eugène Christophe broke his bicycle fork while descending the Tourmalet. Under the rules of the time, he had to walk to a forge in Sainte-Marie-de-Campan and repair it himself. Stories like that helped turn this mountain from a simple road over the Pyrenees into one of cycling’s most sacred places.

Near the summit stands the enormous metal cyclist known as the Géant du Tourmalet. The statue is commonly nicknamed Octave in honor of Lapize. It is brought down from the mountain each winter and returned to the summit every June in a celebration accompanied by hundreds of cyclists. (Unfortunately it was brought down two days before our climb but we got a photo with it at the base in its winter home).

Reaching the top felt every bit as special as we had imagined. A group of Australians gave Lisa a huge welcome, cheering as she crested the summit. We celebrated with a beer and met Sean, a younger cyclist from New York taking a long journey before entering the working world back in the United States.

Eventually, the cold convinced us to add layers. Lisa put on tights, I added leg warmers, and we both pulled on jackets for the descent.

What a descent it was.

We dropped through Barèges and the upper Bastan Valley, with the road twisting down from the rocky high mountains toward greener forests and villages. Our speed approached 50 miles per hour. Part of me wanted to let the bicycle go and chase my lifetime record of 59.5 mph, set years ago in Park City, Utah. But I am not quite that young anymore, and I would like to live to ride another day.

We continued through Luz-Saint-Sauveur and down the river valley toward Pierrefitte-Nestalas, where another Warmshowers experience was waiting.

We arrived before Nathalie and Michel were home, so we found a bakery, bought a snack, and enjoyed a couple of drinks in the park. When Michel arrived, we learned that it was his 69th birthday. With Michel at 69, Jim at 59, and Lisa at 49, we immediately declared ourselves the Niners.

Their home was filled with thousands of objects, photographs, carvings, books, magnets, and artwork gathered during a lifetime of travel. We kept discovering pieces of ourselves in their home: African woodcarvings, marbles on display, Pink Floyd playing, travel magnets covering the refrigerator, and even some of the same books we have at home.

Michel had worked as a tunneler in several countries, and every object seemed connected to a story. He also shared our love of bicycles and motorcycles, with an eclectic collection waiting in the garage.

The evening unfolded naturally. Nathalie hurried off to an exercise class. A farmer friend stopped by with chestnuts and stayed for a beer. Michel’s phone played birthday messages, including friends singing to him in French. His daughter and son-in-law called from Cuba, where Michel once lived for four years and which still holds a special place in his heart.

Dinner was chicken, rice, vegetables, and several hours of stories and laughter. We talked about travel, local farmers, gardens, food, different cultures, the environment, and the beliefs that connect people even when they come from different countries.

Many French families take genuine pride in buying produce, poultry, yogurt, and cheese directly from nearby farmers. Small gardens provide tomatoes, peppers, and other vegetables, while visits from farming friends are simply part of everyday life. Supporting local people does not feel like a special movement here. It feels normal.

It is difficult to explain how people can meet through Warmshowers and feel connected within only a few hours. But once again, openness, kindness, curiosity, and a shared desire to understand the world made strangers feel like old friends.

We climbed the Tourmalet today, but the mountain was only half the story.Read more