Stage 3 to Espalion

Another day of "firsts".
At 5:15am we were woken by race director Patrick, who told us to go back to sleep until 7am as the weather was so bad. Then at 7am, he announced that we would be running shorter today - only the last 20 lower altitude miles of the course. The wind was howling and the snow drifting. Trying to navigate icy, stony, muddy tracks in the dark in such weather would've been reckless folly.
So we cooled our heels until 10am, and then took a bus to the midpoint of the race. Visibility was terrible, and the roads a sheet of ice. As we disembarked, the wind and frigid temperatures were astonishing. The first couple of miles were really nasty, but as we descended to the River Lot, things gradually returned to normal.
Here's the historic church at St Come d'Olt. Its spire wasn't designed thus; apparently some dodgy lumber was used in its construction many centuries ago:



The next "first" around the corner from the church was the last aid station, and a little celebratory vin rouge with my friends Gerard and Nicole. It would've been rude not to.



So now we're all recovering in a truly tiny municipal hall. Very close quarters, but so it goes. Back to a full day's work tomorrow! But the view at the finish line - mountain topped by ruins - is amazing:



For those who care, the race is being easily and brilliantly led by Jean-Jacques Moros (France) and Carmen Hildebrand (Germany). They seem to navigate the most treacherous vertical, rocky terrain with the grace of a startled mountain goat. My style is more wounded water buffalo that's been seized by a crocodile. I dropped a place to seventh in the rankings today (could the wine drinking partially explain that?), but there's still a very long way to go. Thus far, zero abandons.