Lantern rouge on the Atlas Etape

On Sunday April 26th I took part in the Atlas Etape from Marrakech to Oukaïmeden. Two years ago I was inspired to do the event by an excellently written blog on this very site: /content/feature/83843-riding-marrakech-atlas-%C3%A9tape
The author Mat Brett was leading the whole event before being stopped on the mountain for hypothermia. For some reason I though this was 'epic' and wanted to do it myself. I did used to go white water kayaking so might still have a bit of crazy left in me.

So two years later, having built up my meagre climbing abilities and after tackling the Etape Cymru I felt I was ready. Everything was going smoothly along the plateau road, a very gentle incline, though a lot of people passed by I wasn't falling back too far. I got to the first food stop and loaded up on bananas and digestive biscuits (all the way from Heaton Chapel, I often go by the factory, funny that.) There were still a lot of people there when I set off uphill, little did I know that the nearly all of them were turning back there. As I climbed I was overtaken by one chap, but then was all alone until the first drinks stop. I overtook one guy sitting on a rock, then notice a medical car. It would wait for me then head off up the road once I appeared. I started to get the feeling I was actually at the back. We played leap frog for a while and I waved at the car when I saw it.

After 4 hours, it was now 12noon and pretty hot. I got to the next food stop at 58km and 1550m elevation. One of the organizers Gareth was very encouraging and I felt as good as I could expect. However as I set off up the next hairpin I found I was in the lowest gear possible and just turning over as slowly as possible. I had ground down to about 7kph. I had nowhere to go. I finally caught someone soon after, a french guy who was struggling with his back. I felt determined to finish, having come all this way. I had a vision that there would be a 'free' kilometer around the corner, a gentle coasting, but the mountain was relentlessly uphill. I had to stop several times as I was feeling so sore and drained. Gareth would zoom past occasionally and give me a refill, but each time I stopped it got harder to get back on. Although I knew that the top was not far away, my speed was so slow it just seemed endless. There were some emotional and painful moments between stops. I was scared someone would whizz up from behind and stop me getting to the top. I caught up to another British vet who kindly pointed out I had one more gear on the back, 'clunk' urrrrgh, it made little difference. I had to stop and let him go on, but the road seemed to be winding up through rocks, and finally a cut through into a broad basin. Even the promised last kilometer was uphill, just a false flat. 7h03m. I was 93rd of 93 people to get to the of the mountain.

https://www.strava.com/activities/293191396

I was totally drained and all out of food and water. I was expecting a lot of people at the top, but a last few were setting off back down. The doctor stationed there though I looked ill. I was light-headed and tired but didn't thing there was too much wrong that they needed to faff around me. She said my heart rate was Tachycardic, which means fast apparently, not a surprise there. I accepted a lift back to the start, I though it was a shame not to do the full route, and could have gone down, but was thinking about the distance along the flat back to the city and how tired I was. The organizers van took me part way down but they stopped it and took me the rest of the way down the mountain in the ambulance (that was pretty scary itself) and to a hospital in Marrakesh. I had lots to drink and more bananas, Chest X-ray, ECGs and blood pressure and tests (which eventually cost me to pay back the Etape but they covered the cost up front.) They said everything was okay and my heart is strong and diagnosed altitude sickness due to the thin air. The elevation was 2600m, and I had done over 2800m of climbing including what few dips were available.

I have to admit I didn't anticipate just how draining the final part of the climb would be. The ups and downs of the UK would never take me so high. I wasn't as worried as the Doctor and wondered why they were making a fuss. I think they just wanted to avoid me binning it in one of the corners on the descent and had an ambulance spare as everyone had finished. The deposit on my bike was e900, so I didn't want to crash it either. When I was back at my hotel I did have a banging headache and felt woozy all the next day too.

It was epic, silly, emotional, with spectacular scenery. They could have had more real food like pasties and cake, a man does not survive on bananas and raisins alone. I was the lightest I've been in 4 years afterwards and under 14 stone, I haven't seen that 13 in a while. I am always going to be 'too big' for climbing.

I hired a Cannondale Synapse for e30 a day from www.atlas-sports.com in Marrakesh. I called him Shadowfax (Lord of the Rings reference, kids); the lord of all bicycles, strong and swift. Sadly the engine to go with it is too old and fat. I had to take it back on the Monday morning, no quibbles. I had to post this to thank Atlas-Sports and the Etape organizers, who also do things like the Marathon des sables. The 2013 weather put 6 people in hospital so they were easily able to cope with my little issues. Profits from the event got to Education for All, to ensure girls get an education in remote parts of Africa. www.marrakech-atlas-etape.com
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But four weeks have gone by, you might ask why I hesitated to post about this at the time. Well, when I was in the hospital getting tested for altitude sickness. The ER doctor was asking me how much I drank or if I had had Hepatitis and was poking around my belly. He suggested there was signs of liver damage (!) not to drink and see my GP in the UK. Needless to say I was a bit shocked; I didn't mention it earlier until I found out about it here.

I have been to see my doctor in the last couple of weeks and had some blood tests back in the UK to have my bilirubin levels looked at. I have Gilberts syndrome, which means I can get mild jaundice; not much at all, it often doesn't come up until you get other tests. I am supposing that the Moroccan doctor doesn't see it often and assumed I am an alchie westerner. Importantly I am not George Best, and my UK blood tests had returned to normal levels. So now I have a big thank you for the NHS too, who didn't do much but reassure me everything is okay, but it was free (yes, please take my taxes, I want you to have them.)

My Mum always used to tell me I looked yellow sometimes after playing tennis all day in my teens, but she was the only one who ever noticed. Funny how you can be proved right after 20 years.

So now what do I do? It is very tempting to want to go back and do better, and not let them stop me at the top. I know the Stelvio is a similar height. I guess I can't really prepare for altitude in the UK, just be fitter and carry more of my own food (could have murdered a flapjack, no more bananas and date, I want complex carbs) so I need a tiny strip pack of some kind... planning. Failure is tantalizing, I was the last to the top (yeah!) but therefore the only one to get to the top and not get back down (boo.) It makes you want to go back and try again. The flight is only 2h45 easyjet Manchester to Marrkesh, and it would take so little planning as I've done it beforrrre...[inner monologue trails away; why am I telling myself this?] Now thinking of the 5 Boros Ride in New York, which is somewhat flatter.

If you have read all of this, thank you, you might just be the kind of silly bugger that would like to do this event, if you haven't already done so, read Mat's blog and good luck.