Spell the Sound of the Tour De France

It’s a warm sunny day. There is no head wind to holler in your ear and cause you to feel the pain in your legs. The road is smooth and dark, like the best Guinness, and you know you’re strong. Help me now, to spell the sound that road tyres make on the blacktop…..pffffffff or shhhhhh?

For now, le Tour de France skirmishes in Northern France and the sprinters have their dalliances but soon they will reach the mountains and the real race begins. I’m counting the days to a mini-road trip to the Alps to follow the Tour through the cols. Three days up d’Huez and Galibier and Joux-Plane, challenges to thrill the heart and punish the legs and lungs. And I’ll be there, struggling up the inclines before settling and waiting for the real iron men of sport to fly past.

There’s plenty of work to do before then to be ready to leave. Plenty of community stuff to observe and negotiate. And of course two last games of footie to enjoy. Then a week to make the transition from beer and football to wine and bikes. This long, wonderful sporting summer just gets better and better.

Till the 17th and we fly out, the mere prospect is sustaining.