GO TIME
With myself and Fred's friend Bruno Rosa acting as documentarians and support team, we set up camp at a cozy chalet some 1.6 km from the start of the segment. The chalet also happened to be a restaurant, and would serve as a place for us to eat and share some beers, and for Fred to rest between loops.
On Saturday at 5:45 p.m. local time, Fred put rubber to pavement and began to pedal. We followed him up in the car, going ahead in places to make some photos happen. On his first Everesting Fred had a problem with his Garmin 800 and almost lost his tracking activity—as the saying goes, if it’s not on Strava, it didn’t happen—so this time he came equipped with two. And both were working. He rode the first 12 km uphill in 59 minutes, as expected. Climb one done. The descent took all of 20 minutes—much faster than us with the car. At the bottom Fred stopped to eat some snacks from the car, grab a bread-n-cheese at the restaurant, and was then back on his way.
Fred arrived from his second loop chilled by the cold night. The road is forested almost the entire way, which made humidity and fog a near constant, with temps reaching 11º C (52º F) at the top and a balmy 20° C (68 F) at the bottom. Luckily, the chalet keeper was kind enough to knock our door and gift us a pan of pumpkin with blue cheese soup and ground coffee. What a pleasant surprise. Before long though it was time for climb three.
Shortly after Fred left I too prepared to head up the mountain, intending to meet him somewhere on the road for a bit of night photography. I set up my bike with the handlebar camera bag, tripod attached to the rear bike rack, and set off. It immediately started getting colder and colder as I pedaled uphill. The fog grew thicker with every kilometer pedaled until the point where I couldn’t see for shit beyond a meter in front of me. There was no light besides my own, just absolute darkness, humidity soaking me, and the sound of animals in the dense forest. My bike felt heavy, and though I was halfway I felt the fucking flu wearing me down. I wouldn't reach Fred at the top of the climb for anything in the world, I realized. So, I did the next best thing—found a cool corner, set up my portable flash, and waited for Fred's descent.
At this point he was 3:54 hours in, 61 km down, with 2,284 meters already climbed. I jumped on my bike and started to descend with him. We chatted about the erie weather, the climbs, and how it would be nicer for him if at certain points he had someone to talk with. As it turns out, Everesting isn't just a physical challenge, but a mental one too.