The Tour de France boasts many legendary alpine climbs, but in my mind there are three that stand above the rest: Alpe d’Huez (vertical ascent 1,120 metres), which is probably the most famous cycling challenge on the planet, with 21 hairpin turns that zigzag sharply upwards to a small village in the Alps; the Col du Tourmalet (vertical ascent 1,404 metres), which was first included when the ever-changing route passed through the Pyrenees in 1910, and is this year being featured for the 89th time; and Mont Ventoux (vertical ascent 1,617 metres), which is aptly nicknamed the “Giant of Provence,” and has been infamous in the cycling world ever since Tour competitor Tom Simpson died while climbing it in 1967.

I’ve been a fan of the Tour for many years, so on a visit to Provence in November 2008, I thought I would pay homage by trying to cycle up Mont Ventoux. I was not a road biker at the time, but I did do some workouts beforehand on a nearby hill in my hometown of Toronto. When I arrived in France, however, I discovered that you can’t really prepare for a mountain by riding up a molehill. I somehow reached the top of Ventoux, but it was a humbling experience.

On my next trip to France, in October 2024, I decided I would celebrate my impending 65th birthday by attempting another of the iconic Tour climbs: the Col du Tourmalet. This time I expected things to go a little better, because, a few years earlier, I’d become a recreational cyclist. Before heading to the Pyrenees, I did only one training session on a relatively modest slope, confident that my general cycling fitness would get me easily to the top of the Tourmalet. It did not. I managed to make it up, but just barely.

This past November, I found myself unexpectedly making yet another trip to France. And despite my painful memories of both Ventoux and the Tourmalet, I could not resist the call of Alpe d’Huez. This would be my chance to complete the triple crown.

All three of these Tour de France classics are rated as “hors catégorie” (“beyond categorization”), but they differ in character. At 19 kilometres, the Tourmalet is longer than most climbs, but not as steep as some others. Alpe d’Huez is steeper than most, but only 14 kilometres in length. Mont Ventoux, however, is both longer and steeper than most of the rest.

 Last fall, in the brief time I had to prepare for Alpe d’Huez, I twice headed to the steepest hill I know in Toronto (in a branch of the Don Valley) and rode my mountain bike up and down for as long as I could. My uphill speed was only about nine kilometres per hour, but in my second session, I managed to climb for about 90 minutes, which is about how long I figured it would take to do the Alpe.

Now, here on Ventoux, I am again riding very slowly uphill, but this time on a road that runs more or less straight ahead up the mountain’s southern shoulder. There’s not much in the way of scenery — just the forest that closes in on both sides. I prefer not to look at the steep grade in front of me, so I focus on the pavement below. Every so often I see the names of Tour competitors — including multiple winners Tadej Pogačar and Jonas Vingegaard—which were painted on the road when the race came here last July. Unfortunately, nobody has painted my name.

         About three kilometres into the woods, I hit my first 10-per-cent stretch, or should I say it hits me. I do not remember this part being so hard. Each pedal stroke requires substantial effort and I begin to wonder just how far I’ll get today.

Suddenly, the rider materializes on my left, and slowly passes me. I had not seen any other cyclists on this mountain in 2008 or on the Tourmalet in 2024, so the experience of being passed on a big climb is a new one. I have to admit, it does not improve my mindset. But still I crawl along, watching the distance between us gradually increase.

A few minutes later, I hear a whining sound and then another rider appears. This time it’s an older guy — about my age — and I note that he’s riding an e-bike. I do not converse with him, and he goes by faster than I would like.

For some reason, I am irritated by the ease with which he has passed me. And I decide that if he is going to make it to the top, so am I.