The first day of the Pierra Menta turned out to be more interesting than either Nate or I wanted. A smoldering virus ruined Nate's day and I, of course, had to watch the carnage unfold while my own aspirations of some sort of decent performance vanished.
First of all, getting to Areches-Beaufort is no easy task on public transportation. I researched the options carefully before deciding that renting a car was the wise option. I inquired directly with the rental place. The guy quoted me 440 Euro. I went home and did it on line for about $200. Much better. Same place, too. Wonder what he was thinking when I came in with my reservation in hand.
Areches-Beaufort - the host town of the Pierra MentaThe drive was pretty sweet. We took a detour to Plum again to get Nate's bindings outfitted with the toe lever widget just in case they were checking (they didn't). Then, we headed off over a couple of valleys to the race site. The Alps are really quite amazing in the way that every little town has a ski hill, some of them quite extensive. No wonder there're so many great French skiers.
We checked in to the race without a big fuss. Lots of skinny boys and girls running around. Nate and I did some quick calculations and decided that with just the hard goods needed to race, there's about $1.2 million in gear here. Kinda crazy to ponder.
Our new digs. Tight but comfyWe checked into our hotel, which is sweet. We feigned going to the racer meeting but realized quickly that our attendance was stupid since it's in French. Our Canadian friend, Melanie Bernier is here racing. She's French Canadian so abliged us with the full course run down. Dinner followed which was fine. Nothing amazing but pretty clean calories.
The start was early, 7am, and the line was 3km up the hill from us. Melanie convinced us that parking was a hassle and the warm up would be good. So, we hoofed it, skinning most of the way to the line. We barely made it in time with only about 3 minutes to spare by the time we shed layers and gathered our drop bag.
Holy crap there are a lot of folks in Lycra here. The starting line was stuffed. And just like that, we were off. Best to keep your poles up high for fear of them getting trampled. The usual sprint ensued and we were sucked in for a short time. But we eventually settled in, far back in the pack. Hell, we were seeded in the 3rd wave, anyway, so expectations were pretty low to start.
We cruised up a steep rocky canyon and then hit a long boot pack up a steep couloir. Nose to butt the whole way. This led to some wide open terrain skinning that went on forever. This is where Nate said something wasn't right with him. He said he almost puked on the booter (booting on the booter??) and generally had nothing. This declaration with 3.5 hours to go. This was going to be grim.
Wheels off. Time to cowboy upI towed him for a while, a common tactic in these team events, but then he was so off that he preferred to suffer on his own. He was really feeling shitty. 
So, we cruised along, me keeping an eye on him while taking pictures to document the unpleasantness. At transitions, I'd help by dealing with skins to faciltate the process. The descents were not a problem for Nate and the skiing was actually super fun.
The first big descent started in some rocks and was super steep. They fixed a hand line to get through the start which everyone used. One poor soul was so gripped he took off his skis and walked down. Climbs were generally long and were broken by steep boot packs and ridge walks. The skiing got softer as the morning sun rose higher but it never really sucked.
Nate was cramping bad during the last 1.5 hours or so. The final descent came none too soon. It was straight forward at first but then funneled into a very narrow creek bed that had two lines at most through the boulder obstacles. We passed a few teams in there and made to the final piste to the finish.
Epilogue
I had mixed emotions crossing the line. I knew Nate dug deep to just finish. This was good. We'd live to fight another day. But knowing we're capable of so much more ate at me for a few minutes. They announce the names and country of each finisher. I'm sure no one gives a crap but we wanted to do ourselves proud. Not in a nationalistic sort of way, just give our best. And, for whatever reason, we couldn't. Damn ego getting all hurt. Maybe things will be better tomorrow and we can redeem ourselves. Nate assures me he doesn't have the stomach for another stay in the hurt locker like today. We'll likely drop out before that comes to pass. And that would be a shame although I wouldn't blame him. This is supposed to be sorta fun. But we've come a long way and we've dreamt about doing this event for years. We'll start out sensibly tomorrow and just see how it unfolds. Hell, I could be next.