
Today was the last day of the 2015 Tour de France. Cycling junkies all over the world, myself included, will be experiencing severe withdrawal symptoms. No daily updates of epic mountain battles, no more pictures of riders suffering while riding faster than any of us mere mortals will ever ride, no more videos of violent, bone breaking crashes. It is going to be a very long time until next July.
To a non-rider it is difficult, indeed it is impossible, to understand the attraction, the strong hold that cycling has for those of us who ride. Ask ten different riders why they ride and you will get ten different answers. Some ride for health reasons, some ride for the thrill of going from Point a to Point B under one's own power, still others ride for the thrill of competing against other riders.
As for me, I ride to escape the travails of daily life. Riding my bike I am like a mythological creature, half human half machine, sinew metal and carbon joined together in one single organic form, propelling me forward to the only real freedom I know.
But along with the freedom that cycling offers, there is a darker side that all riders acknowledge but will not talk about: death is cycling's silent companion.
That point was driven home last weekend during the 2015 Tour du Mont Blanc. Le Tour du Mont Blanc is a one of the most difficult cycling events open to amateurs. It is a one-day race where cyclists must ride 330 kilometers (205 miles) and climb over 8,000 meters (26,246 feet) all in ONE day of punishing, mind-numbing, leg crushing riding. The ride start in France and crosses into Switzerland and Italy before returning to France. Three countries in one day of riding...only in Europe.
My good friend Arcabulle and two of his riding friends signed up to do the Tour. For months the three of them faithfully trained together, riding through rain, heat, wind, snow--up and down the local cols (mountains). Three musketeers riding on top of their carbon frame steeds ready to conquer Mont Blanc. They set out together on Saturday July 18, three friends enjoying a ride together. They rode strong, up and down five cols, some of the hardest and most breathtaking climbing in all of Europe. They rode, enjoying the camaraderie of friends united in a common quest.
It was a beautiful day of riding and the three friends were well within their goal of completing the race in the allotted time frame of 17 hours. Then, before the climb up to the sixth col (there were only two other climbs left) tragedy struck. One of the three friends was felled by a massive heart attack.
Arcabulle was riding a couple of minutes behind when he realized that his friend was down on the side of the road. All around there were people trying to give medical assistance to the fallen rider. But in spite of extraordinary measures, Arcabulle's friend died while being transported by med-evac helicopter. He was only 57 years of age, a married man and father of three children.
As Arcabulle recalls it, he held his friend's hand and tried talking to him while resuscitation measures were being performed. Arcabulle vividly recalls the deadly pallor on his friend's face and the empty expression in his eyes. It is hard to imagine a more devastating set of circumstances than seeing your friend, your riding buddy, slip away from life right in front of your very own eyes.
The Tour's official page reported the following:
Hommage a Philippe. Philippe nous a quitté ce Samedi suite à un malaise cardiaque sur le Tour du Mont Blanc. Nous souhaitons adresser notre soutien et toutes nos condoléances à sa famille, ses proches et ses amis.
Translation: Tribute to Philippe. Philippe has left us this Saturday following a heart attack on the Tour du Mont Blanc. We want to send our condolences and our support to his family, relatives and friends.
The death of one cyclist touches all cyclists, their death diminishes all of us in the cycling community. Philippe was a brother of the cog, he was a brave and strong rider--Philippe was one of us, he was family.
Dors en Paix - Rest in Peace Phillipe. May you always climb with the wind at your back.