Saturday 7th July – 82.3 Miles Bardonnechia

Odd start to the day really. I first woke at about 0400 shivering, by 0600 my bladder joined the torment and by 0700 I could wait no longer.

Although freezing in my tent, the sun was blazing down and outside was already looking like a scorcher. I struggled to find the energy to break camp; even after two strong coffees! But the Col D'Iseran awaited. Getting camp down was a hot and tiring affair but before long we were all ready (Including Jim and his Missus who were joining us for the ride to Bard. on his Triumph Tiger). Then Simon dropped his bike whilst we all gathered in formation. No damage other than a slightly dented pride.

The Col D'Iseran was as brilliant as I remembered. The XTX lapped it up and even the most taxing of hairpins evaporated into the next with minimal effort – which was just as well as my knee was hurting and my head was far from on the game. The chain fiasco had left awkward niggles in my mind feeding doubt and insecurity in the bike. I did get it into a bit more but it took longer than I would have hoped for. Coming down the south side of the mountain swathes of freshly laid gravel added to the challenge of the road.

After the Col D'Iseran we picked up the Col de Mont Cenis down into Italy. My mind monkeys had gone by now so I was really enjoying it. We stopped for a much needed Coke by the bluest azure lake (Lak Mont Cenis) and sat in the shade while the sun belted down waving to various guys we'd met the night before as they hooned past.

At Suza we couldn't find the Non-Autoroute road to Bardonnechia so had to stump up a further 4.70 Euros Peáge fee and blat down to Bard the dull route. The site was shut until 1600 so we hunkered down in a shady bar with a coke in almost silence. I think we were all tired.

Camp turned out to be the field furthest from any of the amenities. Obviously reserved for the tons of marauding bikers expected it soon started to fill up and we were soon crammed in with loads of other Stella Riders... and some familiar faces. Me, Rob, Paul and Simon decided that a dip in the reservoir would be and excellent idea. How it escaped our attention that in the Alps reservoirs tend to feed from Glacier melts baffles me but I can assure you that I have never been so cold in my life! I didn't feel my feet for the remainder of the evening and I thought I'd left my penis in the lake!

We spent the evening on the Campsite bar chatting bikes with other riders. Hearing various horror stories from some of the veterans of the Rally was quite disconcerting. I fell asleep disarmingly quick that night and slept the sleep of the dead right through. Si and Rob weren't so lucky as they had to endure the amorous activities of the tent next to them.