Having successfully completed Garstang Cycling Club's very own coast- to-coast from Glasson Dock to Flamborough Head last September with Betty, Pip and Fiona, and ably supported by Phil Durrigan, I decided to go up a gear to an even bigger coast-to-coast challenge for this year. And what more iconic set of coastlines for a European can there possibly be than the Atlantic and the Mediterranean? As much as I like the sea though, especially when kayaking around North West Scotland, mountains are my abiding passion. So it was a natural choice to combine the high mountains, bookended by spectacular coastlines. And so my eye set upon arguably the ultimate cycling coast-to-coast challenge for the sporting cyclist, namely the Raid Pyrenean, a 460 mile monster ride entirely in France from Hendaye on the Atlantic to Cerbere on the Med, keeping as close as possible to the Spanish border, and climbing some of the most iconic cols of the Tour de France. The Raid was devised by the Cycling Club Bearnais in the 1950's and to make it even more difficult it has to be completed in a 100 hour time limit, which means four full days and one brisk morning of cycling.

Luckily, the logistics of this challenge are not difficult, because many commercial companies run fully supported trips, which means one has only to worry about pedalling 12,000 metres up hill and then 12,000 metres down. Easy Peasy! For a holiday partner I chose Sporting Tours International, who are well known for their Club La Santa training camps and Tour de France spectator trips. All I had to do was persuade Betty to drive me and bicycle to Manchester for an early morning coach pick-up, where the bike went into a large secure trailer and I promptly went to sleep in the coach, but not before asking her to pick me up in 8 days time at the same spot. It was like going away in a school trip with 22 other boys, none of whom I had previously met. As the coach travelled down through the country to the channel ports and thence to Paris, it picked up my fellow holiday companions in two's and three's at various pre-arranged points. Which gave us all a great opportunity to introduce ourselves to each other and size up how good the cycling competition was going to be. After a very civilised overnight stop in Paris, we were all in nervous anticipation for the ten hour drive down to the French border town of Hendaye near Biarritz. On arrival, all 23 of us lovingly rebuilt our bikes from out of the padded bags or boxes in the evening sun on the hotel lawn. As a treat that night we we all allowed to keep our beautifully polished carbon fibre mistresses in our rooms, but not before a very fulsome carbohydrate loaded meal to prepare us for the rigours of the next day's ride.

As a further treat we were allowed a later morning start for the first 103 mile stage. There was a male logic to this as it gave us the latest finishing time for the fifth day in order to get everyone within that crucial 100 hour cut-off and the possibility of a certificate and membership of an exclusive of a Raid Pyrenean club. So in bright morning sun our little peleton set off from the hotel and through the seaside town to the coast and ten miles of stunning corniche road before heading off inland toward the mighty Pyrenean peaks in the distance. We rode with just the essentials for a typical Saturday ride along beautiful quiet roads, together with map and route card, and confident in the knowledge that our guides would be waiting for us at prearranged spots in the support mini-bus. The route cards were vital, as there were pre-set checkpoints along the whole route where they would be stamped in order to verify our achievement. Happily the checkpoints were all in towns en-route, and every shop, bar, restaurant or garage in each town had a 'tampon'. Lunch was in the delightful town of St Jean Pied-de-Port, where the plat du jour went down a treat. After lunch we had to tackle the only noticeable climb of the day, the 500m Col d'Qsquich, with 8 km of an easy 5% gradient, where the minibus waited to give our water bottles a refill. Afternoon coffee was in the medieval town of Tardets, before a final hour on the road to our overnight hotel at Oloron Ste Marie, where we could cool off in the pool before another large cyclists evening menu.

That Day One, despite the distance, was a great ease in to the second big day of the trip. Although only 90 miles, we had two Haute Category climbs to overcome before we were to arrive at our evening hotel in the little Pyrenean village of Ste Marie de Campan. The day began easily enough riding through tree covered foothills just around the 500 m contour and then along the valley floor to Laruns. But then began the 18 km ascent of the Col d'Aubisque at 1709 m and first summited in the epic 1910 Tour de France, the centenary of which is being celebrated this year. Thankfully, the lower slopes were well shaded, but then we left the trees and climbed a 10% gradient for miles up a series of hairpins exposed to the sun, before reaching a mountain cafe on a wild plateau of jagged rock and sparse vegetation. It was surprisingly cold and windy at that altitude and coffee was consumed indoors before donning a windproof jacket for the exposed and hair raising descent through dark tunnels carved into the mountainside. The road climbed briefly to the Col de Soulor before plummeting again to the valley floor at Argeles Gazost. I had climbed ahead of most of my compatriots, but was given a salutary lesson in descending by all of them as they shot past me one by one in the 18 miles it took to get to the bottom. This set the pattern for the rest of the week. After re-grouping over lunch at a busy Argeles on market day, we headed up the Gorge de Luz to Luz St Saveur and the start of the legendary Tourmalet. Another 18 km ascent, but 400 m higher that the Aubisque, and consequently much steeper. In the baking afternoon sun, with no shade, getting up the Tourmalet after 70 miles of riding was undoubtedly the hardest part of the trip. The Tour goes up it twice this year on consecutive days and from either side to mark 100 years of the high mountain stages. Although the pass road was little more than a dirt track in 1910, it is being resurfaced in readiness for this year's caravan. This meant us cycling up through a treacle of melting tar and sticking gravillons which scratched the undersides of all our beautiful close clearance machines, before passing through the route barre 10 km before the top, and the great tarmac machines blocking the road for the minibus till the day's work was finished at 6 pm. I'm sure the road will be a gem in three weeks time, but not then in scorching June. With the reduced oxygen taking it's toll, I eventually made it to the summit restaurant where a checkpoint stamp and an ice cream both worked a treat. The western side had been in sun all afternoon, but as is typical of the Pyrenees, the descent past the ski station of La Monge to our delightfully rustic hotel was covered in a thick perishing mist. But as Octave Lapize, who won that historic 1910 Tour, cursed to the then organisers 'Vous etes des assasins!'.

It was a chill early morning when we left Les 2 Cols to it's gigantic patron and interesting plumbing to make the wooded and comparatively gentle ascent of the Col d'Aspin at 1489 m. We descended on a smooth road down well engineered lancets to the town of Arreau, before a long but easy climb to the Col de Peyresourde at 1569 m. Yet another awesome descent, where I was continuously overtaken by familiar companions, was rewarded by a relaxing lunch in the sun at Bagneres de Luchon, where the usual re-grouping occurred. Five of us then set a good pace for 10 miles down the valley floor, till we turned east along a fabulously quiet and typically French country road that wound it's way over the Col des Ares, the Col de Buret and the poignant memorial on the lower slopes of the Col de Port d'Aspet where sadly Fabio Casartelli lost his life in the 1995 Tour negotiating a bend on the 17% descent which we were going up. Thereafter, it was 18 miles largely downhill to afternoon coffee at St Girons. Another 20 miles, following one river down and then another gently up, saw us at the village of Massat and it's very traditional Hostellerie des 3 Seigneurs. A few cold beers on the hotel lawn before getting showered and changed for dinner were ample reward for a day with five Cols and 103 miles on the clock. Oh and not forgetting the very hearty cyclists dinner itself, with extra helpings at each course. For some of us with Garmin cycle computers, the last three days energy expenditure of 4,500 calories told a tale itself. Have you tried eating 4500 calorie meals? it's not easy, I can tell you. But we all tried!

And so to the fourth day, when an early morning mist welcomed us to another 105 mile day on the saddle. The mist cleared soon enough up the gentle slopes of the 1250 m Col de Port straight out of the village to leave another blisteringly hot day in prospect, which did not fault in it's regularity. After the lovely descent to Tarascon we had 15 miles of a busy Route Nationale to the popular spa town of Ax- les-Thermes. Unfortunately, this is one section where road traffic has grown considerably since the Route des Cols was devised back in the 1950's. But we gritted our teeth and then turned south toward Andorra on a slightly quieter section of the same baking hot road, which rose gently over another 10 miles to the border at L'Hospitalet and then a steeper section where you could go right over the Porte d'Envalira into Andorra or left to the Col de Puymorens which at 1920 m high kept us on the right track and still in France. A long, easy descent saw us eating out au terrace at Bourg Madame, and scored a morale boosting first all holiday for me because no one in the group had overtaken moi and I was first to order the plat du jour. Stocking up on much needed water, we had another 35 miles of wide open road to swallow before our overnight stop in the town of Prades. Over the first 15 miles we had another three Cols to ascend, topping out at 1579 m on the Col de la Perche. Just after this, the last col of the trip, the road sign 12km @ 10% struck fear into my little heart, but this long sweeping descent traversing the side of a gorge proved thrillingly innocuous. Four miles before reaching Prades we had one last treat that day. We had been told by our guides that the car-free and walled medieval town of Villefranche-de-Conflent was a must-see. So we rode through the city gates onto a cobbled street and rested ourselves at a beautiful terraced bar with a very long and very cold Belgian pression. Sheer heaven! Our hotel was easily found on the outskirts of Prades and another night's very welcome rest.

After 400 miles of mountains in four days, the last 60 largely flat miles to the sea were always going to be a blast, and so it proved. We had a early 8.00 am start on yet another sunny morning, in order to give the slower riders plenty of time to reach Cerbere before the 1.00 pm deadline for completing the Raid Pyrenean. We were all very excited as we knew we had made it. What was to come was just a typical medium club ride to be done in under 5 hours. But the day proved the hottest of them all, and the closer to the Med the hotter it got. The high 30's in the full sun wasn't stretching it. Once we hit the coast at St- Cyprien, we headed south along the corniche road for the last 20 miles. We'd rather naively assumed it was flat, but it just seemed to up and down and round gorgeous headlands all morning and through busy little former fishing villages with well heeled residents and marinas full of expensive yachts. We'd definitely hit the Cote Vermillion! But my compatriots, with their Cannondale Super Sixes, Campagnolo Super Record Grupettos and Oakley shades did not let the side down. The minibus and coach were waiting for us at a lay-by next to the Cerbere sign and there was a mad sprint to the line before we coasted down the steep hill to the harbour and the little beach. We sat at a cafe under parasols and drank beer in celebration of our achievement. And admired the amazing endurance of the Tour riders, who can master three weeks of the same terrain at a racing pace averaging 25 mph all the way to the Champs Elyssee. We'd arrive at 11.00 am, and it was too early for the bar to serve lunch. But the staff pointed us to a stall were we could buy a toasted croque monsieur filled with ham and cheese and some frites and bring them back to the terrace to consume with our second beer. What bliss! And so after a dip in the Med, we cycled back up the hill and loaded our bikes onto the trailer, ready for an afternoon drive to Nimes where we overnighted and had a full celebratory dinner in the hotel. We all knocked back a few that night!

The following day we headed for Paris and another overnight stay at the same grand hotel and then the long second day's journey back home, dropping off new friends at various point en route. Betty was there to meet me at Manchester on the Sunday evening and the final hour's drive home. How easy can that be! This was a fantastic trip, so well organised by Sporting Tours, and a marvellous achievement. Over 20 years ago two much younger club mates from the Whitewebbs Cycling Club to which I belonged when we lived in London had done this trip. I had always harboured a fascination about following their journey and now I have done it. And I would definitely do this or similar challenges again. Already I am dreaming about the Raid Alpine, which goes from Geneva to Nice over such famous cols as the Galibier, Iseran, Isoard and Bonette, which at over 2800 m is the highest road col in Western Europe.