Monday dawned a slightly grey day, for more than one reason. My leg felt awful. I could barely bend it. I knew my race was over and I felt like such a fool. I’d spent a considerable amount of money entering the event and getting out to France, and to retire from racing after one day was utterly frustrating. Still, I knew the rules and what I was getting myself into, but it didn’t make it any easier. Even more annoyingly, in spite of the lack of mobility and considerable pain, the bruising was all internal and the only outward sign was a tiny scratch.
To get me out of my state of grumpiness, I chose to help the organisers pack up camp (as best as a bloke with a sore leg and a limp can), and tried to support them in the move to camp three and build out of the new site. What I got to experience was how incredibly hard the support crew work each day in the background away from the race. While the riders punish themselves on their bikes, the support crew are taking down and loading up 100 tents, sleeping mats and rider bags, moving on to the next site and then rebuilding the camp ready for weary competitors to turn up later in the afternoon. A heartfelt thank you to all of the Trans-Savoie camp crew for the incredible work they do to make it such a great event.