The lake looked frigid and wispy fog blanketed the place as far as I could see. The trees shivered from the cold wind. I t was 7AM, and though my planned route for the day was to be an easier one than yesterday's 180-kilometer epic, I was eager to start early and get back in time to perhaps catch on TV the last few kilometers of the 1999 Tour de France around the Champs Elysses and watch Lance Armstrong's triumph in Paris.
Lance demolish the competition in the Prologue three weeks before.
I kept forgetting that St. Moritz is at 6,000 feet. Ahead of me were arrayed a series of mountains, their individual features rendered blank by the intense sunshine that had long since finished its task of scattering the fog cover. T his delightful musing was abruptly terminated as I entered Silvaplana's town center and without much fanfare found myself having started the climb up Julierpass. The road first climbed straight out of town, then bent right to provide outstanding bird's eyeview of the valley and lakes that but a few minutes ago I was blissfully riding by. T he distance between Silvaplana and Julierpass was only 7 kilometers, ridden in its entirety amidst a bleak, rocky, treeless terrain.