Having a bit of luck on your side is never a bad thing when taking on the mountains. Unpredictability is ever present, it’s just a matter of when it may strike and of course how hard it will hit you. Today’s second stage was to be a ten mountain monster, 208km with the key climbs of the Madeleine, Glandon, Croix de Fer, Mollard, Telegraphe and fearsome Galibier all washed down with a 35km descent to Briançon. Do the maths, that’s one serious amount on elevation for one day. Over 6,000 metres if the climbs haven’t brought you out in a cold sweat just reading their names.

Although the sky looked clear at dawn, the forecast was not looking so kind as the day progressed so it was decided to take an early start to try and beat the worst of it. The Madeleine was truly beautiful and the perfect way to get the heart beating, warmth was in the air and carving the descent will surely be engraved in my memory forever. Perhaps Mr Weatherman had succumb to one too many sherbets the night before and got the forecast wrong?

Approaching the base of the Glandon the temperature had dropped, the cloud had started to thicken but still nothing to cause too much concern. Half way up the rain was falling and with a cold wind it was hard to appreciate the surrounding beauty. Cresting the summit and immediately gaining elevation again for a further 2.5km to the Croix de Fer. Things were deteriorating and the technical descent meant that a lapse of concentration was out of the question, not even for a second. Apologies for doubting the weather forecast. As predictable as the French over cooking pasta, they were right.

By the base it was back onto dry roads and a 6km ascent of the Mollard. Progress was being made and the conditions were actually looking like they were improving. Rule 1: Don’t ever be fooled into thinking conditions are improving when you’re in a mountain range. They can change in less that one revolution of your cranks and by the Telegraphe rain was back.

The plan was to get to Valloire (the base of the Galibier) where we could bundle up and go for the final ascent of the day. Thermals were liberally applied and the final call of 'lets smash it' made. Click, click as cleats engage, I’d teed up my tunes and was ready to hit play, enter my own world, and forget about everything else in my mind. It was at that precise moment the call came in. “Fermé Galibier, la neige bloque la route. Is this some sort of a (sick and twisted) joke? What do you mean the pass is closed due to the snow? Two minutes earlier and I’d already have been on my way, but as it happens it wasn’t a joke, Mother Nature had taken over and if it’s one thing that you learn pretty quick in this game, very rarely does Mother Nature loose. In fact I’ve never known her to and I guess she didn’t intend on starting now, no matter how many skinny but determined cyclists are thrown at her.

Still, 4,800 metres of climbing and over seven and a half hours on the bike. Can’t be all too disgruntled with that now can I?