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An interview with Phil Deeker

For the amateur cyclist, whether racing, touring or just riding, climbing mountains is often seen as the greatest feat and the biggest challenge on a bike, and also the most rewarding. Phil Deeker, a good friend of Rapha, took up cycling some ten years ago and became hooked on sportives and endurance road riding. In 2007 he set himself the challenge of riding 300 cols in France, in the space of 30 days. Phil took 28 days to do it, raising £10,000 for charity M.A.G. in the process. Now Phil has created an event to share this experience of intensive col climbing with other riders. Dubbed the “ultimate sportive”, the Cent Cols Challenge pitches teams of four to ride 100 cols in ten days. Rapha will be sending a team out to compete, consisting of Rapha designer Graeme Raeburn, frame-builder and Rapha Continental rider Ira Ryan, Road Cycling UK’s David Arthur and competition winner Nick Amlot. They have some suffering ahead of them, to say the least.

Phil Deeker, creator of the Cents Cols Challenge and seasoned col hunter, talks to Rapha about this new ultra-sportive and his own take on the art of suffering.

The Cent Cols Challenge, the ultimate sportive as you describe it, what was the thinking behind this?

During the 300 cols challenge I covered 4,500 kms in the Alps, Pyrenees and Cevennes and climbed 82,000 metres. Of course it was hard, but I ended up a far richer person with hundreds of images and fleeting moments of pure 'bonheur' horded in my mind to cherish forever.

Within a couple of months after completing it I felt the strong desire to find a way of following up that magic month somehow. I wanted to share that experience with others and offer them the opportunity to prove they can do something quite extraordinary too. Putting 10 'Etape du Tours' back-to-back seemed like an exciting prospect.

How did you decide on the route and the number of cols?

The CCC sportive is based on the 'randonnées permanentes' of the Club des Cent Cols. To become a member of this Club you have to have climbed 100 Cols, five of which must be over 2,000m. For me this provides a very definite goal for the CCC riders. Of course, not all the cols are of Ventoux stature, some demand 20 kms of climbing; some only five. Nonetheless the CCC requires you to climb an average of 4,000m over 200 kms daily, for ten days. By riding effectively, and being pretty fit, the riders can bag a ton of Cols and feel pretty good about it, they will also be riding some of the most beautiful routes in Europe.

This is the inaugural CCC event, do you have further plans for such sportives?

Such has been the interest in this first CCC I have designed four events for next year. The Alpine challenge will be re-run next year and there will be a Cinquante (50) Cols version of both routes on offer too. Bookings are already being taken. All the events will be limited to 30 places in the interest of maintaining a certain character and philosophy.

The 300 Cols Challenge was driven by a charity cause but ultimately there has to be a lot of personal motivation behind such an epic challenge. Where do you think the drive to ride a bike in such a manner comes from?

Foremost is the pure enjoyment of riding a bike on the best roads and routes in the world. It stems fundamentally from an enjoyment of cycling. I love being on my bike, and I especially enjoy celebrating that in the mountains. It is the best place for Man to truly become one with his machine and to feel all the physical thrills of cutting one’s path as fast as possible through the air. To do this with dignity and style was always important to me: I have to be enjoying it and to do that I have to be in control of my technique and be as efficient as possible. That is only possible through being fit enough to handle such physical demands. When learning any craft or technique the natural path of enjoyment of it leads to the desire to perfect and progress. Riding so long in the mountains was, for me, a confirmation of my ‘progress’. I still have time to progress even further, and will be striving to for many years, hopefully.

Why do you think people fall in love with riding a bike and the suffering that comes with serious mountain climbing/racing?

Cycling is a perfect form of escapism and of nostalgia. It is such a simple action, yet one of the hardest things we learn to do as a young child. But what a breakthrough when we can finally ‘fly’ on two wheels, for so many of us it was a gateway to freedom as a child. As an adult, it brings back that pure joy from so many years before, even though we may not be conscious of this. As for the ‘attraction’ of suffering, I believe this too comes from something deep inside. We lead an existence, in our privileged western world, which seldom inflicts crisis upon us, at least on a physical plane. Through extreme sporting exploits we connect back to a primitive part of ourselves: stand up and fight or lie down and roll over. It allows us to achieve a sense of self-pride that is often so hard for us to find in ‘normal’ life. Or accept defeat humbly with a vow to return and try again.

The human body is capable of much more than many people realise, have you been surprised how much punishment you can endure? Could you tell me about the mental aspect of suffering, the point where the physical pain is not the obstacle but the mental state you need to arrive at?

On day two of my ride I really wondered how I could possibly go on for another 24 days (this was when I was climbing the Izoard, having done the Glandon and the Galibier on the same day). I imagined myself as a slave rower on a Roman galleon and had been ordered to row for 26 days or die. I refused to give in and was sure I could survive. This was how determined I felt. This was how hard my task felt to me that day. This too is what took me into another dimension. I had indeed crossed the threshold of expected limits of exhaustion and had climbed to another level. The Dervishes achieve spiritual enlightenment in a similar way. Through the physical they reach the spiritual. But once there, or feeling as if you are ‘there’, it doesn’t get any easier. Constant effort is required to feel totally part of one’s surroundings. Those mountains became everything for me: their roads were like arteries through which I flowed, as I became part of their living structure. I could go on…

I know riding can become a very addictive thing, is there a danger that riders can over do it? Is there a point at which you have to say stop?

The point at which to say stop is when you are losing touch with the ‘real world’. It is so easy to become sucked into the vacuum of pure escapism. Cycling is so obsessive for some and has caused many a divorce. I am unconvinced that this is because the rider has discovered his ‘true self’. I think he has just been devoured by the magical but potentially lethal power of cutting through the air on two wheels.