An ancient Velominati legend states that when the The Prophet created the common fly, he gave it a maximum air speed of exactly 12 kilometers per hour. When he created the common Cyclist, on the other hand, he gave us a maximum climbing speed of 11.9 kilometers per hour.
The worst flies on the planet live in the Pyrenees, where it is hot and humid. I recall an overcast typical day in the Pyrenees, the kind of day where the flies pull back the drapes, look outside, and decide to take the whole family out to the Cols for an afternoon of Cyclist Surfing. As it happened, we were on a big ride that day; we started with the Col d’Aspin, went over the Tourmalet, and ended at Luz Ardiden as the sun was tucking in behind the shoulders of the mountains surrounding us.
It was here, on the lower slopes of the last climb, down within the suffocating effect of the tree line where our sanity was most severely tested. Luz Ardiden is the cruelest kind of climb, the sort that is always one hour from ending, as Will Fotheringham once pointed out. With 13km to go, the speed you climb at is 13km/h; with 12km to go, the speed drops to 12km/h, then to 11, and so on with always an hours’ riding left before you.
The guns had been thoroughly drained of any power after 160km over two of the most fearsome climbs in the Pyrenees; the mind was not far from cracking. I do not know what is worse; the noise of their flying droves, or their endless dancing upon the arms and legs, but the flies here are incessant. It is hard enough, climbing at track-stand speed, without the added challenge of doing so while wildly swinging an arm or two about and cursing every manner of airborne invertebrate.
The reserves were tapped and the bottom of the V-Well scraped for every bit of speed in an effort to escape this torturous hell. Above the treeline and into the pastures, the flies found more appealing hosts than boney Cyclists, and I was left to once again commune with butterflies – the only sort of flying insect I find at all tolerable.
Every summertime climb I have ever done has been accompanied by these pests; and every summertime climb – irrespective of my fitness – has been enjoyed at a maximum speed of just under 12 kilometers per hour. Having insects capable of flying a bit faster than the struggling cyclist is Nature’s enforcement of Rule #5, it is the Way of Things.
Vive la Vie Velominatus.
I know as well as any of you that I've been checked out lately, kind…
Peter Sagan has undergone quite the transformation over the years; starting as a brash and…
The Women's road race has to be my favorite one-day road race after Paris-Roubaix and…
Holy fuckballs. I've never been this late ever on a VSP. I mean, I've missed…
This week we are currently in is the most boring week of the year. After…
I have memories of my life before Cycling, but as the years wear slowly on…
View Comments
@humancyclist
Ah, the sweet taste of revonge!
@Xyverz Oh it is a beauty. I have the privilege of cycle guiding in the Pyrenees and this is right in the area i guide around (Bareges).. I love this climb (and hate it).. That and the ride up to Gavarnie and the Col du Tentes are some of he best in the area. Please go - it will change your life. It did mine.
@Mike_P
Is there a time of year that one can go when these li'l fuckers aren't obnoxious? I'm guessing that if such a time exists, it'll be a Rule 9 (snow/ice/etc) day?
@Richy Pea
How would this compare to The Volcano for pain? Haleakala is another mountain I want to climb...
Aussie blow flies. The worst. Fortunately, unlike most Aussie critters they don't kill you instantly.
On a different note, that climb looks amazing.
I can go one better. Riding the 4WD tracks up Mt Kosciuszko (Australias highest mountain, but not so high on a world scale) underneath the chairlifts in summer, the gradient is such that riding just faster than walking pace is a big effort. The march flies, with their big green eyes, orange bum and long stinging proboscis circle like vultures waiting for a sick animal to die. The deeper note of their slow wing beats compared to regular bush flies make them easy to identify. And then like a buzz bomb, the humming stops.
That's because the bastard has landed on your blood enriched left calf, and its proboscis is begining to drill into your skin. At this point, timing is everything. You must pick a few metres of track, engage extra effort from your body, and take a hand off the bars to whack that prick and not fall off.
But you miss, and the humming starts again.
@Graeme
+1 and you simply can't see or hear the midge until it's too late. Avon Skin So Soft Dry Oil, Woodland Fresh is the only thing that I've found that counters them. It has the added bonus effect of putting a sheen on the guns and arms but it's no Baxter...
Cripes. All very good reason to train to go really really hard up hill.
@Xyverz
No flies in Hawaii. OK, a few dengue carrying mosquitos, only in one area, but flies are way down on the suffer list. Actually they are not on the list. Climbing is cruel enough without worrying about flies too. The Volcano does not dish out much pain unless you go at Dutch Monkey speed.
@Gianni if only our mosquitoes carried dengue, then they might not also carry Ross River Virus and Barmah Forest Virus.
And @frank, until I see the winner of San Sebastian getting around with corks hanging off his txapela, I will maintain that Australian flies are worse than Pyrenean