Day 11: The Final Col Down

Four ghostly shadows danced around the lounge of the Gite at 4:30 in the morning. Tom had set his alarm to wake Greg who wanted to set up a time lapse sequence on the GoPro to catch the sunrise over the mountains. Team Leader had set his alarm to make sure Tom was awake to wake Greg – and with so much going on Mike had got up just to join in the fun. The quick and uncharacteristic flurry of nocturnal activity was soon over, and the team retired to their beds once again for much needed sleep – except Tom who spent a tortured few hours thinking up stories for the blog to try to explain away Dad's unexpected stage win from the previous day.

By 9:00 am the team assembled on the wooden veranda for a most amazing scenic breakfast as the sun poured warmth into the day. A huge fresh loaf the size of a pillow was accompanied by home made jams (mmm...the apricot), coffee, yoghurt, french toast and other stuff (for the gastro geeks who we know are following our every meal write up).

Our French and Italian friends arrived soon after, with the withered look of people who had been woken up in the early hours. The three cycle-RAIDERS got themselves kitted up in what was now a familiar post breakfast routine and set off for Prades, leaving the Finance Minister to settle up a ridiculously reasonable fee for our stay (about £35 each for dinner, B&B including copious wine) and work out how to get past the tractor that had been parked in front of the Doblo.

The first few Kms of the day were straight into a 12% plus gradient but we were soon looking down at the spaghetti western-esque Cailla down below us. The road started to descend then and the team were into a series of incredible, even 'gorgeous', gorges. The team lapped up the GoPro potential as they sped down the tunnel of limestone at the end of which began the ascent to the team's final Col of the RAID – Col de Jau. The route changed from a tunnel of rock to a tunnel of forest as the heat rose and the gradient started to increase. As part of a tactical decision, and despite the Team Leader's repeated encouragement for the lads to go ahead, the three riders kept formation on this final long and steep climb, the young riders somehow able to curb their natural urges and still remain upright at speeds dipping dangerously below 4 mph.

When the the summit finally appeared the RAIDERS made a sprint finish and met up with Mike for yet another food fest – this time goat's cheese and cured meats with tomato on bread followed by an assortment of crepes, then coffee (sorry Nick, more meals). In between fending off the cafe owner's dog's attempts to scrounge their food the team watched with barely disguised derision as two car loads of Poles arrived at the summit car park, jumped out and took photos of their conquest, and then sped off again. Pah... call that an ascent! (more of an accent). With final checks on where we were staying for the night the group split again; Mike to the Doblo and the riders to their bikes for a 17 miles descent all the way to Prades.

After establishing base camp and showering, the boys set off for the usual ritual of find a bar, look at the day's film footage, drink beer and watch the world go by. This latter activity took a bizarre twist as it soon became apparent that the town was full of weird, wonderful and sometimes endearing characters. From a building nearby, piercing blasts of amplified music shattered the tranquility of the early evening twilight. Sounding like a indie/catalan/retro rock band sound check the sound bites provided the necessary link for the boys to start assembling a fictional band from the strange characters wandering by – there was the Keith Richards Lady, Old Cuban Gangster G Cardigan guy who looked like he was on an ATM heist, Lurch, and the 2 dog renegade wanderer with the sun bleached shirt.

With a fictional band suitably formed, the team moved location all the way to the opposite side of the square where, in a bit of a touristy hotel, a very fine meal was soon demolished – including fine local charcuterie, monkfish stew and crème brule – some brave choices only now being made now that the riding was nearly all done. Bizarrely we were even served PINTS of lager, which went against our new sophisticated European credentials, but were enjoyed nonetheless.

Back at the hotel the boys couldn't resist a quick game of doubles pool. Teaming up with Tom, Greg's early optimism was founded on the pool experience from two years of college life, but some canny ball positioning, a dodgy slope on the table and a good measure of luck left Mike with the responsibility of potting black for a comprehensive win for the Dad/Mike team. With unerring and deadly accuracy the black was immediately dispatched - although discussions about the choice of pocket were to continue into the night. (Mike called the wrong pocket and thus lost the game, the following GoPro infringement rendered irrelevant as the black had already gone in)

Another eventful and busy day came to an end in contrasting styles for the team members; in one room Dad and Greg lay in bed and began their review of the trip – best climb, nicest B&B, most comprehensive stage win for Dad, most scenic col, finest town, best car panel to attach a GoPro to – while next door Mike and Tom were mesmerised by a trashy French gameshow – check out Laser Fighters on YouTube, they're going to be massive!