I’ve brought a couple of stones from the summit of Ventoux a couple of kms down to rest on the Tom Simpson memorial.
I’d have liked to have left him something more significant, something that dated back to when I first fell in love with cycling and heard his name. Sadly, time and repeated house moves have got rid of practically everything cycling-related I owned in that period. Even if it hadn’t, I’m not sure Tom Simpson was ever quite as tasteless as I was when I was a teenager, and probably wouldn’t have been impressed by a pair of metallic purple, crochet-backed riding gloves.
Still, bringing a bit of the summit down to meet him seems like such an obvious ploy that I expect everyone does it. I hope scientists don’t soon start reporting that Mont Ventoux is getting shorter and fatter. It might end up like Chesil Beach, where removing the stones is now an offence.
No comments:
Post a Comment