Jules Heartly | Summer 2025

The Emotional Exuberance of Watching ….

As I stood in the picturesque town of Bareges, France, my heart raced with excitement. The anticipation tingled in the air, like a wild bird longing for the sky. just as the scent of warm bread with chocolate from a nearby café bakery wafted through the town’s streets.

I was there for one reason: to witness the magic of the Tour de France as it ascended steeply toward the legendary Col du Tourmalet, all while soaking up the vibrant atmosphere in the enchanting little village of Barèges.

I had arrived a couple days earlier to get acquainted with the Pyrenees, its mountains, its altitude and its beautiful villages. And I wasn’t the only one. Most of the people at the hotel I was staying at, The castets d’ayre as well as the majority of lodging guests in the area around the Col Du tourmalet, were there for the same reason: To watch live an stage of the tour of France.

A lot of them, seasoned cyclists or hikers eager to witness Le tour passage through these storied peaks, hit the roads early in the morning to take advantage of the weather and all that the Pays Toy has to offer. I intended to do the same. Going on foot, I started with the easy trail to Saint Justin Cross, an easy destination 3.2 miles round trip distance from the town of Bareges.

The trail seemed well aware of the jubilant atmosphere with the anticipation of one of the hardest mountain stage of #LeTourDuFrance.

The lizards emerged, weaving their own sunlit dance among the wildflowers, and the many mountain water falls dripped in joy to keep us all cool.

The sun shined careless, determined to keep the cycling flame on, not that it was needed it. I greeted the many hikers on the trail. At one point I was taking a breather at one of the highest points when a fellow hiker cheered me up with the good news: ” this is the toughest part, after it there is a short downhill and you will be at the #FermeSaintJustin, a restaurant and a viewpoint that will make you forget the effort”.

And he was right! a few minutes later I arrived to the oasis! Ferme Saint Justin, A creprerie nearby the St. Justin Cross, which offers stunning panoramic views, delicious crepes and tasty homemade ice cream, along with refreshing beverages that could silence the hunger of even the most rigorous hike.

Since its creation in 1990, Ferme Saint Justin, has been recommended by Le Routard (traveling guide)year by year, and I learned why. The trees’ shade at that point in the mountain, an oasis really, it is met by the hospitality of the restaurant owner and his team.

Its products are already well known on the region like the buckwheat and wheat crepes, but as impressive as that, is the story of the place and of its owner, Jean Louis.

“I love the mountains, I am a mountain guide and a ski instructor.”  he shared with a spark in his eyes, “When I opened the place in 1990 I ensured I would be with my family year-round in the Pyrenees.”

And he never looked back! 35 years later he continues teaching how to ski from October to April and attending the Restaurant from May to October, all this while being the Mayor of the village of Sers in the Hautes-Pyrenees!

“Being the mayor allows me to help get better infrastructure for the town and to be a voice of the otherwise quiet community.”

I was curious about his life in the mountains and the challenges of all his professions, but we talked for a short period of time as I needed to continue facing mine. But before I left, Jean Louis spoke, briefly but passionately about how climate change was affecting all of its work, “Sometimes there isn’t enough snow, other times there is so much not even I could go down to the town of Bareges.” He continued. “The hail storms damaged water pipes in the properties and the extreme heat in May and June slowed down the amount of hikers coming to the area”.

And all hikers are thankful to have a place to stop by on their journey. It has been a beacon for travelers, its charm weaving its way into the hearts of all who wander through.

“The tour of France brings a lot of business to the region, but not as many hikers as I would like. I just wish I could watch a stage myself, but somebody has to attend the business” he said smiling, and with those parting words, he bid me farewell, a like-minded spirit among the mountains, leaving me with both gratitude and yearning as I continued my journey back to Bareges.

My next activity was spotting the right place to await for the Le tour of France Gladiators. Finding the perfect spot to watch the race is part art, part strategy, and wholly exhilarating. Arriving early is essential, not merely to secure a good view but to soak in the ambiance that transforms these tranquil mountain roads into a jubilant celebration of cycling prowess. Local townspeople set up banners, waving flags representing not only their favorite riders but also their community. Families picnic beside the road, , and cyclists outfitted in brightly colored jerseys pedal past, adding to the excitement and preparing the crowd for the upcoming display of courage, resilience and fitness.

As the sun climbed above the peaks, you could feel the weight of collective anticipation. Friends and strangers alike share stories, tales of personal rides in the high mountains, and memories of past Tours. I listened intently, captivated by the passion for this sport that transcends borders, ages, and experiences.

So many stories to write about and a few I have chosen for this blog. Like the one of Chele, a man already living his retirement life, and whom a wake up call via a heart attack drove him back to not only bike mythic mountains like Col Du Galibier, the Sella Ronda or the Col du Tourmalet but to watch the grand tours (El Giro de Italia, Le tour and La Vuelta) almost every year since he left the work force, absorbing their drama like a man dying of thirst drinks water. “I refuse to be the millionaire in the cemetery. ” He said with an expression blazing with conviction. “Instead of accumulating money, I accumulate experiences and I do all that by doing something I am passionate about: Cycling”.

As a man who transformed retirement from a gentle descent into a triumphant ascent, Chele had arrived in the Pyrenees early enough to witness the mountain’s transformation from serene giant to pulsing heart of cycling fever. Like tributaries flowing toward a mighty river, caravans, camping cars, motorcycles, and amateur cyclists streamed in, each carrying dreams of conquering the legendary Col du Tourmalet and other hallowed Tour de France battlegrounds.

Cyclist of all ages, kids, teenagers, adults shared the road, the effort, the challenge.

And of course there were seasoned ones like Jodie and Steve Rooks a couple from Colorado, USA whom I had the opportunity to chat with, after they had conquered the Tourmalet and the Col d’Aspin. It was their first time at the French Pyrenees and a dream come true for Steve. ” I have been following the tour of France almost all my life, but not until now I get to do both: watch a stage live and cycle up some of their most challenging mountains.”

“Steve has always been an athlete, When I met him back during the college years, he not only did cycling but participated in triathlons, I did neither at the time.” Jodie, his wife, chimes in, a smile brightening her already shining face under the mountain’s sun. ” He got me into cycling, at first we did it using a Tandem bike. That was a good test for our relationship!” She laughed at the memory.

Now both are devoted members of a Colorado cycling club, their lives choreographed around training schedules and weekend adventures. “Preparing for this pilgrimage has been like forging steel,” Jodie confessed, pride radiating from every word. “Balancing full-time work with serious training is like trying to serve two masters—but the mountain doesn’t care about your schedule.” Her energy was infectious; after a grueling 65-mile odyssey, she sparkled with enthusiasm while I had arrived via the comfort of four wheels, feeling like a spectator to her athletic theater.

“We are taking a break before we head back to our hotel, which means we have to climb again the Cold D’aspin ” Steve shared, his voice carrying the weight of sweet exhaustion., ” it is part of the 9-day tour, seven of our team members came to do, to chase this dream together.

I was in awe, looking at this couple on their late 60’s riding along with youngsters. “I bet the Cold Du Tourmalet climb is a highlight for you?” I asked as we were sitting down right across the famous cyclist monument at the top of the Col, watching others forging the lasts few meters of the steep road.

“I would say this is the 3rd on my list. his eyes distant with longing. “My true grail is the Alpe d’Huez. Ironically, many people already believe I’ve conquered it. Back in 1988, another Steve Rooks—an established climber and my cycling namesake—claimed his greatest triumph by winning the polka dot jersey on that legendary climb. His name blazed across headlines, and everyone who knew of my cycling passion assumed I was that champion.”

His voice cracking a laugh with the idea. “This time I am going to really do so, with my own sweat and determination, perhaps not winning the Polka Dot jersey though.”

As Jodie and I embraced on a warm good-bye the assurance of a meaningful encounter stayed with me.

Colorful stories of human determination like this are everywhere among the many people that like me have come from different countries to cheer the gladiators, and to dance with the sun, the rain, the sweat, the noise, the expectation, the joy of being part of the unique spectacle the Tour of France delivers through the brave riders during its 21 Stages, transforming mere mortals into witnesses to greatness.

The Emotional Exuberance of Watching ….the Tour de France on the Road to the Col du Tourmalet

The day of the 14th stage, the mountains woke up slightly hidden by the fog and under a light rain. A way to perhaps deter the enthusiast cyclists from going up the Col du Tourmalet to wait along side for the Le tour professional riders, but it would take a lot more than that for it to happen. Hundreds of wheelers of all ages and skills paraded up hill from the early morning and through out the day until the moment they were no longer aloud by the Le Tour organization.

Some of them stopped by to share their stories, like Gonzalo who came from Portugal to be part of the Journey, and Leo and Lorcan, a pair of friends , whom had arrived from Ireland to cheer one of the riders, Ben Healy and of course to feel closer to the experience by riding their bikes at least for the 19 km it takes to reach the top of the Tourmalet.

While waiting for riders to arrive to Bareges on their way to the first HC climb, I found myself gazing up at the towering Pyrenees, where rugged beauty meets human determination. The mountain has seen greats wade through its curves; legends have forged their legacies against its backdrop.

Glancing at my watch, slowly ticking closer to race time, my pulse quickened again, echoing the cadence of those brave enough to race toward this formidable peak.

And then, without warning, the sound of motorcycles ushered in an adrenaline-laced wave of emotion. The first hints of flashing colors appear around the bend—caravans of support vehicles are followed closely by a cacophony of cheering fans. As they approach our small haven in Bareges, the moments stretched into eternity. Riders passed in the blink of an eye, muscles defined and faces etched with a singular focus. Awe washed over me as I witnessed their grit, determination, and sheer talent.

There’s an unspoken bond between spectators and athletes, an a one–way admiration that pulses through the very air we breathe.

In this fleeting chaos, I couldn’t help but be swept away by the spectacle—the shouts of encouragement, the clattering of bicycle gears, the whirl of colorful jerseys zipping by like a cascade of humanity confronting nature head-on. It’s not simply the race itself; it’s the experience of witnessing dreams unfold amidst stunning vistas, where every uphill turn presents yet another hurdle to overcome.

Whether you’re an avid biker or a casual fan, there is something universal about this journey that resonates deeply within us all. As the final climbers whiz past, weaving through waves of applause, excitement mingles with euphoria.

The race may come and go, but the visceral experience transcends any fleeting moment. The camaraderie, the scenery, and the emotional release create lifelong memories that remain long after the peloton has disappeared into the horizon.

As the evening settled and the echo of wheels faded into the distance, I left the ephemeral confines of Bareges feeling rejuvenated. In this magical place, where the realities of life blend seamlessly into the world of sport, I remembered why I came here—to relish not just in the athleticism of the riders but in the shared love for an experience that unites us all.

When the road to Tourmalet calls to me once more, and I know that I will return, ready to witness the thrill of the tour flocking through the mountains yet again.

And so will many others, and as we raised our glasses to have a toast in the hotel gardens we loudly made the promise “ to meet again for our next tour of France’.

I said my farewells to the other hotel guests I have shared the magical moment with, the same people that have dare to repeat the experience, and may venture to do again. Christopher and his wife from Great Britain, whom were witnessing their 4th Tour. Manuel and his family from Spain whom just this year enjoyed the atmosphere at three mountain stages, Marie and her husband who had been there next to me the previous years cheering up the riders, and of course Philippe and Natalie who host us all every time.

And while still there, we all let ourselves enjoy all the other things the town of Bareges and the French Pyrenees offer silently, knowing that once again they are the reasons the spectators and the cyclists came here on the first place.

Thank you for reading my blog. It would be a pleasure to hear about your own experiences not only following a grand cycling tour but enjoying watching live your sport of choice.

Although, I truly believe cyclists are gladiators risking their lives every day, all sports require discipline, determination and love and I applaud all that.

So, send me a note.😎 and share your thoughts.

Remember to follow me on social media @JBRADIANT, and to subscribe to my blog @lifeinxxi