While I looked on and enjoyed the sun with my broken hand, my colleagues turned and turned their kilometres on the velodrome (the track) of Cavaillon. At the end of the week one of us was ready to chunk his bike, however.....
There still was a mountain to conquer. They had thought it a good idea to ride the Mythic Mont Ventoux. 22 Kilometres of continuous climbing.....
And why not; we could see the beast from our 'hotel' the snow was white and beckoning and the weather to good to let the occasion pass.
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