velotel
03-24-2013, 07:12 AM
Last time with Maxn, November 012, Col du Noyer, a fine ride and a gorgeous day. Saturday wasn’t gorgeous but the ride was excellent. As he posted, in my stomping grounds, so to speak. Terrain he doesn’t know; lives on the other side of Grenoble, same valley, another world. Time to show him some of my favorite terrain. First make him ride his bike from his chateau across Grenoble to the cemetery and funeral home parking lot along the river. Maybe his legs would be a bit dead from the ride; seemed an appropriate meeting place. Didn’t work of course. Oh well.
Lots of options floating in my head. A few drops of rain splattered down. Okay, stay closer to home, do the climb to Hurtières. He’ll like that. Afterwards, we’ll see. Start at a small park along the river. Bikes ready, nothing forgotten, okay, bowl and roll. Across the flat valley floor, in front of us a wall of vertical. The Belledonne mountains. Turn left off the highway past the chateau. One lane plus a wee bit kind of road. All up. I know it well. After awhile Maxn says steep climb. Ah, I like that, it’s not just me. Not that I notice he’s working overtime or anything on the grades. Little while later he comments on the pavement. Excellent and amazingly uniform. Kind of like the grades, uniformly up, pretty much sustained 8, 9, 10% though to be honest I don’t really know. Maxn is enjoying this.
Big views as we near the village of Hurtières. In front, the Belledonne summits smothered in snow, behind and well below the valley floor creeping into shades of green. Through the village, past the church with its big clock on the tower I always check my time on. Against what I don’t know since I always forget to look at the time when I start riding. Some days I think I need a calendar instead of a clock to check my time. And up. Through some hairpins, into a long traverse, grade starts easing. Into the forest, chains moving to smaller cogs, up to the Col des Adrets. I love cols with fast arrivals. The back side isn’t fast. Not going up. We don’t go down it either. There’s an even narrower road to the left, paved, going up. We take that.
I know Maxn is going to like this. Steep like everything else so far but short. Pavement ends. Splendid view, snow, rock, and ice filling the sky. We keep going, a chemin in french, sort of a jeep road I suppose in english, but tolerable for normal cars. Dodging mud holes and rocks across the top of the hill and back onto pavement. More like an alley than a street, the road dives down through a small hamlet of stone and wood houses and barns to the juncture with the road for the Col des Ayes, just a spurt away.
By then I’ve decided for stage II. Weather’s good, cloudy, cool, no rain threats. Maxn’s never ridden the Belledonne Balcony, a long traverse across the flanks of the Belledonne mountains. Lots of upping and downing, something like 6 or 7 cols along the distance. We’re at either the second or the second to last col, depending on your direction. In the distance the Col du Barioz, the first or last of Belledonne cols.
Down to Theys, an okay downhill, good speed but too straight for much interest. Into the village, turn right on a road squeezed between old stone buildings and a small chateau, now housing the post office. To the col 6 K and 400 vertical meters away. All up, but pleasantly. A shallow valley of fields, scattered hamlets, farms. Defines bucolic. Little traffic. Maybe none, kind of forgotten. Noticed Maxn was periodically riding away from me without even realizing it. My legs were starting to tire. Keeping his pace was becoming harder despite mostly rather moderate grades, 6s and 7s except for one K over 8%. A world of calmness.
Got to the col, turned right. Spur of the moment call. A paved forest road, access to a nordic ski area. Tacking on another 450 or so vertical meters seemed like a logical call. The logic started to fade pretty quickly to be honest. It’s not like this is some fabulous road up the mountain with expansive views and spectacular hairpins zigging up the slopes. Mostly just a series of long, mildly meandering traverses through a forest of pines. With patches of snow and ice on a blacktop a bit long in the tooth and rubbly in sections. The higher we climbed, the longer of tooth I felt. Got to the end and Maxn looked at me and said he was glad it was finally over. Ah, good, it wasn’t just me with legs starting to fade.
Then down. Maxn headed off while I emptied my water bottle, zipped up my jacket. I came burning down, blew by on his left while he was lagging along waiting for me to catch up. Diving past the ice and snow patches, past the loose gravel, through the bends, a healthy margin of care for the unknown. Cold air, fingers complaining about my not having bothered putting gloves on. A good descent, nothing special. Back to the Col du Barioz. Stop, put on my gloves, watch Maxn roll in smiling. Starts his GoPro for the descent to Theys. Says his battery’s low so he’s going to set for shots instead of video. Wants to keep the power for the last descent of the day. Good call on that.
Outrageous, first word that comes to mind. I’d forgotten how good that drop is. And Saturday it was truly outrageous. Not sure why. The blacktop excellent, felt super grippy. Like the tires were mated to it. Sight lines mostly open, curves round and even. We were flying. Road pinches in, dives and curls through a pocket of homes and barns. Bursts free and we’re off again. Just an amazingly rhythmical descent. Into Theys again, past the chateau, turn left at the central plaza, move up the cluster, sit back, rolling easy, laughing at what a good time we just had. Across the hillside, an easy traversing climb. Most of the time. But not Saturday. My legs were dead, not attracting flies yet but maybe not so far. Thankfully it wasn’t long.
The top is a few hundred meters of flat traverse out of the forest and into the light, the valley spread out at our feet, to the left the snow, rock, and ice. A last stop, look around, soak up the views while Maxn changes his GoPro setting to full video action. I tell him he’s going to love this drop. It’s a hood ornament descent for sure which adds a nice edge of care of the mix. He looks at me with this huge question mark. Hood ornament? Yea, like if a car is coming up, if you aren’t careful you could end up a hood ornament. Problem is the grades are steep, the bends round and smooth, the asphalt buffed, which means you’re going to want to go hard and fast. Thus a hood ornament descent. One of my favorites.
Conditions were sublime, the pavement sure, the tires planted like nothing could dislodge them. Beautiful. I love that delicate dance between pure flying and holding back just enough for the unexpected, or hopefully just enough. Never really sure on that bit. A glorious drop. A glorious visual drop too. Places where the road is plunging down across the hillside and all that’s visible ahead is air to the valley floor. Kind of like going over the crest on a roller coaster. Other times you can see the road snaking across the hill, clinging to an absurdly steep slope of trees. The road’s just begging you to let go of the brakes. We do. Lefts and rights, perfect bends, beautiful rhythm. At the bottom Maxn said he’d be perfectly happy just doing that climb then coming back down. I know what he means. I do that a lot.
A few pictures, none from Saturday. No camera, didn't want to slow down Maxn. Summer shots. Just to add a wee bit of flavor to the video Maxn has already posted. Also to keep someone from putting one of those jumping icons yelling about no pics. Enjoy
Lots of options floating in my head. A few drops of rain splattered down. Okay, stay closer to home, do the climb to Hurtières. He’ll like that. Afterwards, we’ll see. Start at a small park along the river. Bikes ready, nothing forgotten, okay, bowl and roll. Across the flat valley floor, in front of us a wall of vertical. The Belledonne mountains. Turn left off the highway past the chateau. One lane plus a wee bit kind of road. All up. I know it well. After awhile Maxn says steep climb. Ah, I like that, it’s not just me. Not that I notice he’s working overtime or anything on the grades. Little while later he comments on the pavement. Excellent and amazingly uniform. Kind of like the grades, uniformly up, pretty much sustained 8, 9, 10% though to be honest I don’t really know. Maxn is enjoying this.
Big views as we near the village of Hurtières. In front, the Belledonne summits smothered in snow, behind and well below the valley floor creeping into shades of green. Through the village, past the church with its big clock on the tower I always check my time on. Against what I don’t know since I always forget to look at the time when I start riding. Some days I think I need a calendar instead of a clock to check my time. And up. Through some hairpins, into a long traverse, grade starts easing. Into the forest, chains moving to smaller cogs, up to the Col des Adrets. I love cols with fast arrivals. The back side isn’t fast. Not going up. We don’t go down it either. There’s an even narrower road to the left, paved, going up. We take that.
I know Maxn is going to like this. Steep like everything else so far but short. Pavement ends. Splendid view, snow, rock, and ice filling the sky. We keep going, a chemin in french, sort of a jeep road I suppose in english, but tolerable for normal cars. Dodging mud holes and rocks across the top of the hill and back onto pavement. More like an alley than a street, the road dives down through a small hamlet of stone and wood houses and barns to the juncture with the road for the Col des Ayes, just a spurt away.
By then I’ve decided for stage II. Weather’s good, cloudy, cool, no rain threats. Maxn’s never ridden the Belledonne Balcony, a long traverse across the flanks of the Belledonne mountains. Lots of upping and downing, something like 6 or 7 cols along the distance. We’re at either the second or the second to last col, depending on your direction. In the distance the Col du Barioz, the first or last of Belledonne cols.
Down to Theys, an okay downhill, good speed but too straight for much interest. Into the village, turn right on a road squeezed between old stone buildings and a small chateau, now housing the post office. To the col 6 K and 400 vertical meters away. All up, but pleasantly. A shallow valley of fields, scattered hamlets, farms. Defines bucolic. Little traffic. Maybe none, kind of forgotten. Noticed Maxn was periodically riding away from me without even realizing it. My legs were starting to tire. Keeping his pace was becoming harder despite mostly rather moderate grades, 6s and 7s except for one K over 8%. A world of calmness.
Got to the col, turned right. Spur of the moment call. A paved forest road, access to a nordic ski area. Tacking on another 450 or so vertical meters seemed like a logical call. The logic started to fade pretty quickly to be honest. It’s not like this is some fabulous road up the mountain with expansive views and spectacular hairpins zigging up the slopes. Mostly just a series of long, mildly meandering traverses through a forest of pines. With patches of snow and ice on a blacktop a bit long in the tooth and rubbly in sections. The higher we climbed, the longer of tooth I felt. Got to the end and Maxn looked at me and said he was glad it was finally over. Ah, good, it wasn’t just me with legs starting to fade.
Then down. Maxn headed off while I emptied my water bottle, zipped up my jacket. I came burning down, blew by on his left while he was lagging along waiting for me to catch up. Diving past the ice and snow patches, past the loose gravel, through the bends, a healthy margin of care for the unknown. Cold air, fingers complaining about my not having bothered putting gloves on. A good descent, nothing special. Back to the Col du Barioz. Stop, put on my gloves, watch Maxn roll in smiling. Starts his GoPro for the descent to Theys. Says his battery’s low so he’s going to set for shots instead of video. Wants to keep the power for the last descent of the day. Good call on that.
Outrageous, first word that comes to mind. I’d forgotten how good that drop is. And Saturday it was truly outrageous. Not sure why. The blacktop excellent, felt super grippy. Like the tires were mated to it. Sight lines mostly open, curves round and even. We were flying. Road pinches in, dives and curls through a pocket of homes and barns. Bursts free and we’re off again. Just an amazingly rhythmical descent. Into Theys again, past the chateau, turn left at the central plaza, move up the cluster, sit back, rolling easy, laughing at what a good time we just had. Across the hillside, an easy traversing climb. Most of the time. But not Saturday. My legs were dead, not attracting flies yet but maybe not so far. Thankfully it wasn’t long.
The top is a few hundred meters of flat traverse out of the forest and into the light, the valley spread out at our feet, to the left the snow, rock, and ice. A last stop, look around, soak up the views while Maxn changes his GoPro setting to full video action. I tell him he’s going to love this drop. It’s a hood ornament descent for sure which adds a nice edge of care of the mix. He looks at me with this huge question mark. Hood ornament? Yea, like if a car is coming up, if you aren’t careful you could end up a hood ornament. Problem is the grades are steep, the bends round and smooth, the asphalt buffed, which means you’re going to want to go hard and fast. Thus a hood ornament descent. One of my favorites.
Conditions were sublime, the pavement sure, the tires planted like nothing could dislodge them. Beautiful. I love that delicate dance between pure flying and holding back just enough for the unexpected, or hopefully just enough. Never really sure on that bit. A glorious drop. A glorious visual drop too. Places where the road is plunging down across the hillside and all that’s visible ahead is air to the valley floor. Kind of like going over the crest on a roller coaster. Other times you can see the road snaking across the hill, clinging to an absurdly steep slope of trees. The road’s just begging you to let go of the brakes. We do. Lefts and rights, perfect bends, beautiful rhythm. At the bottom Maxn said he’d be perfectly happy just doing that climb then coming back down. I know what he means. I do that a lot.
A few pictures, none from Saturday. No camera, didn't want to slow down Maxn. Summer shots. Just to add a wee bit of flavor to the video Maxn has already posted. Also to keep someone from putting one of those jumping icons yelling about no pics. Enjoy