Wild ride

So you walk out of the five-star Cameron House hotel on the banks of Loch Lomond wearing your new team kit and head down to the water’s edge, where your bike has been readied by professional mechanics, your name and rider number displayed on a plaque under the saddle, as in a race. There are staff to fill your bottles, a van serving espresso and a fleet of all-electric Porsche Taycan Sport Turismo support cars which will stop should you have a puncture or a mechanical issue. There’s a briefing on the route you’ll be riding from ‘directeur sportif’ Sean Yates, the legendary ex-pro who performed the same role at Team Sky for Sir Bradley Wiggins when he won the Tour de France. You’re just starting to feel like a grand tour professional yourself when you sit down to don your cycling shoes and turn to the rider next to you.

It’s Sir Chris Hoy, six-time Olympic gold medallist and 11-time world champion, his famous thighs undiminished by ten years of retirement. ‘Hello, I’m Chris,’ he says, unnecessarily. Never have I suffered such imposter syndrome. What was I thinking when I signed up to this?

I needn’t have worried. Founded by ex-pro cyclist Justin Clarke, who also created the Taste food festivals, LeBlanq aims to offer the best cycling weekends you can imagine. Locations stretch from Norway to Cape Town but always include spectacular roads and an equally impressive hotel. And there’s always a big-name rider to chase: other LeBlanq events have featured Sir Bradley, and even Eddy Merckx – the Pelé of cycling.

Riders were split into three groups, and I joined the ‘green’ group, which included riders of all ages and abilities, some using e-bikes or riding in trainers. The middle ‘white’ group would suit reasonably fit, regular riders, while the ‘black’ group left even Sir Chris admitting he was trying to ‘breathe quietly’ to disguise the strain.

The other departure from the true ‘pro’ experience is the dining and drinking – because you don’t normally get Laurent Perrier champagne and a celebrity chef on a hardcore training camp. During our weekend, two-Michelin-starred seafood specialist Nathan Outlaw served up exquisite scallops, sea bass and turbot (with plenty for non-fish eaters too), and there was also Marqués de Riscal wine and whisky from InchDairnie.

But for all this luxury, it’s the cycling that sticks in the memory: spectacular routes that climb over high moors and drop down to hidden, glassy lochs, near-deserted roads, and group leaders that take care of the directions so you can focus on the extraordinary beauty you’re riding through. The routes may be long – the white group can cover over 60 miles in a day – but the chance to ride in a fast and well-disciplined peloton is at least part of the appeal. The riders ahead punch a hole in the air for you, reducing the effort required to maintain a given speed, so you can ride far faster than you could solo while still being able to chat with those cycling alongside you.

The other LeBlanq guests are a fascinating crowd, ranging from famous musicians to captains of industry. But cycling has always been an egalitarian sport, and status is forgotten when you’re out on the road (aided by the fact that everyone’s wearing the same stylish team kit, supplied by high-end cycling clothing brand Rapha).

Nobody minds waiting if you’re struggling on a climb, and the willingness to muck in goes right to the top. Someone in my group got a puncture on the first ride: the Taycan support car was there in seconds with a new tube and a high-capacity track pump, and Sir Chris immediately took charge. Riding with one of the greatest cyclists ever is an honour, but the rider who watched him pump her tyre up must have thought she was dreaming.

Knight rider: chatting with Sir Chris

On riding with his heroes:
‘I guess there are people who come on these events for that, but I’m kind of oblivious to it. I think most people do it for the whole package; the hotel, the roads, the support vehicles, the amazing chef. And it’s the people you’ll remember. I’ve been riding with Tom Rowlands from the Chemical Brothers, who’s a guest here this weekend and have probably scared him with my massive fanboying. I used to listen to their tracks before competing, and the first ten seconds of Elektrobank still gives me goosebumps.’

On the inclusivity of cycling:
‘Anyone who can ride a bike can ride with someone like me. There’s no snobbery here, and e-bikes are opening things up even further. If you want to do 100 miles flat-out with the pros on these events, you can. But we also had a guy in his mid-70s who hadn’t ridden for 23 years and still had the same bike. So I rode with him for the first few miles, we had a blather, then he headed back to enjoy the hospitality.’

On his passion for the 911:
‘I have a second-gen Type 991 911 GT3 RS and a Type 992 911 GT3 Touring manual, and that’s my dream two-car garage: one for the track, one for the road. I wanted something that got as close as possible to the GT cars I’ve raced but which I could drive home, and the RS is exactly that. I’d only swap it for a Type 992 911 GT3 RS. I drove one at Goodwood recently. I don’t know how they do it: the cars are so good, yet with every successive generation they find a way to make us want the new one.’