In 2006, Britain’s Nicole Cooke demonstrated her absolute dominance in a bravura performance on the Giant of Provence
Words GILES BELBIN
A moment in time
It’s 30th June 2006 and Britain’s Nicole Cooke is in the town of Valréas, some 65km north of Avignon in southeast France. She is standing astride her bike, waiting for the start of the fourth stage of the 2006 Grande Boucle Féminine Internationale, the women’s equivalent of the Tour de France.
As she waits in front of the crowd, she finds an inner calm; all noise fades away as her thoughts turn back in time. She sees her 12-year-old self – the girl who had sat at home in the Vale of Glamorgan every summer and watched Tour de France highlights on TV; the girl who was inspired by seeing Robert Millar climbing in the Alps and Pyrenees; the girl who dreamed that one day she would do the same.
Ahead is a 115km ride to l’Isle-sur-la-Sorgue. It is a special stage with one of cycling’s most revered climbs – Mont Ventoux – on the route. Cooke is wearing yellow. She has been in the leader’s jersey since her Stage 1 time-trial victory in the Pyrenean ski resort of Font Romeu, and is now nearly one minute ahead of the second placed rider. Her Univega teammates have also been enjoying success, picking up two more stage wins as the peloton crossed the southern reaches of France.
Just one stage remains after today and Cooke is in pole position. There is no need for her to do anything drastic – she has never ridden Ventoux before. It is up to the others to try to take the jersey from her shoulders. Cooke can just monitor everybody else, save her energy, react if need be. That’s all she needs to do. But this is Ventoux and that 12-year-old is there, watching her every pedal stroke.
Power and glory
The flag drops and Cooke’s team quickly goes to work. Ventoux is being climbed via its north side, from Malaucène, and starts some 35km into the stage. From here it is 21km at an average of 7.5%, with stretches up to 12%. Cooke wants a high pace leading into the foot of climb, and the team obliges. As they exit Malaucène she is perfectly placed.
About 2km in, just as Mont Ventoux begins to bite for the first time, Cooke accelerates hard. Soon she has a gap that no one can bridge and she powers on alone in the heat of a Provençal afternoon, knowing the famous sun-bleached, wind-blasted summit is inching closer. At the top her lead is around three minutes; then she launches herself onto the descent into Bédoin. At the bottom her lead is four minutes, a gap she maintains all the w
