velotel
05-20-2013, 03:34 AM
Needed to empathize with the Giro riders in the Alps. Feel the cold, water dribbling inside clothes, muscles cramping with cold and fatigue. Had to ride. Chamrousse, 1760 meters , a good objective. Up in the clouds. Off I went.
The morning had started out rather gloriously, which in truth is why I went. Sunshine and blues skies over the mountains, temperature rising. At last. This year winter’s been hanging onto the weather program like a banker holding your money. Extremely reluctant to let go, just dribbling out small gifts from time to time. Saturday morning turned out to be another teaser. Clouds invaded, sunshine disappeared.
I went anyway. Thought I could bag Chamrousse before the rains arrived. Not even close. Which is why I spent a lot of time thinking about those guys in the Giro, splashing through the water, looking up and seeing soggy clouds instead of mountains. Day after day. And they’re supposed to do that clean! Not me, bowl and roll under a sullen sky.
Left the car next to the Isère River. Lowest point for maximum elevation gain. Self-inflicted torture. Up to Uriage-les-Bains. Bains as in baths. Very clean people in Uriage. They’ve got a big thermal spa. Also a casino. One for losing your money, one for losing your fat. Also a golf course. For losing your balls I suppose. Lots of traffic on the road to Uriage, all in a hurry. There’s a broad, paved shoulder on the side going up for cyclists. Wouldn’t have ridden that road otherwise. Didn’t stop at the casino or spa. Passed straight through, past the turn for the north road to Chamrousse, past the golf course, to the north road to Chamrousse. The harder climb. One I’d never done.
At least up. Rode down it the previous Saturday after riding up the Col Luitel from Séchilienne and realized I’d never ridden it, not from Uriage to the junction with the Luitel road. So there I was, heading up into a world of gray. And rain. Light at first, thickening the higher I got. Kept thinking about the Giro. Cancellara in the classics. Hampsten’s ride so long ago. Can’t imagine how they do that. Physically or psychologically.
All in all a good ride to Chamrousse. Kind of surprised the Tour de France has only ridden it once, a time trial from Grenoble won by Armstrong. From the roundabout at the golf course to the top took him 49 minutes. Took me longer. I like to stop and shoot pictures. Otherwise…
The lower half, from Uriage to the Col Luitel, is vastly more enjoyable than the upper half. It’s steeper by quite a bit with pitches over 10%, lots of turns, and views. There aren’t any views in the upper part. Just trees. Ronald Reagan would have liked it, proof that he was right. Seen one tree, you’ve seen ‘em all. For K after K. Same forest, same blacktop gleaming with running water, same fat, dark clouds draped over the mountain.
I’m probably doing the climb a disservice. I’m sure it’s better than how I see it. For a strong rider who can carry a hard pace uphill, has to be a great training ride. Settle in, spin the cranks, fly up in time trial mode, nothing to look at anyway. Perfect for racers. The only race I’m in uses calendars for timing.
For me the road’s too boulevardish. Wide, excellent pavement, generous shoulders, what hairpins there are long and round. Technical is not a word that pops into the mind on the climb to Chamrousse. Not going up. Going down, now that’s a different story. But not yet. There were times when the road seemed interminable. Once I thought at last the end is just ahead and then saw a kilometer post with the altitude. I still had another couple hundred vertical meters until the top. The last 5 or 6 Ks aren’t difficult, pretty steady 6% and 7% grades, and I knew I should have been rolling faster than I was. Maybe it was the cold seeping in or maybe the rain that was now pattering on my head with excessive enthusiasm. Either way, pushing down on the accelerator achieved nothing significant. Just slogging up the mountain to the sound of squelching water.
The end, nothing dramatic, just a huge parking lot glistening under a load of water next to a low rent shopping center. Or that’s what it looked like. Maybe it looks better from the opposite side, the side where the ski slopes run up to the buildings. I kind of doubt it. Definitely not a jet set ski resort. I stopped and shot two pics. Just to record that I really was there in that weather. A digital clock on the building told me the temperature was 5° C. Thought the rain was starting to look a bit thick. Would have added more layers of clothing but there wasn’t anything to add. Only thing to do was head down.
And down. Some 1300 vertical meters of sustained down to Uriage. Then another couple hundred down to the banks of the Isère River. For those still using some dead king’s smelly appendages to measure, that’s 5000 vertical feet of some of the sweetest descending I’ve ever done. Usually I like a little technical challenge in my downhills. The bike bouncing around, diving through hard turns with a decreasing radius, walking the tight rope between pure, outright speed and avoiding becoming some car’s hood ornament in a turn that isn’t wide enough for everyone, assuming the car is cutting the corner. Standard policy for french drivers.
None of those apply to the drop from Chamrousse by the southern road. That wide, smooth, beautifully engineered road that I found somewhat boring going up is the promised land for speed hounds. This is a road built for 53/11’s. I was perfectly happy with my 50/12 but if I’d had a 53/11, I would’ve been all over it for sure. Round, constant turns, big sight lines much of time, lots of pavement width to play with. Beautiful. Even in the rain. And no cars that day. I don’t ride with a bike computer or GPS unit so have no idea how fast I was going. Other than that I was spun out much of the time. Probably could have spun a 53/11 in the upper half at least part of the time since the grades aren’t so steep but from the junction with the road from Col Luitel down was an exhilarating gravity drop. The road was good and wet until Luitel but felt really grippy. Still slowed for the sharper turns more than I would have in the dry but not as much as I expected to.
Then again I might have not been on the brakes too much because my hands were too cold. Kept thinking that the faster I rolled, the sooner I’d be down in the valley in the warmth. Your basic trade-off between an increased wind-chill factor and a reduced time factor. The latter was more enticing. Also more fun. Plus I could feel the temperature steadily rising as I dropped. Nothing dramatic but noticeable. I was going to time myself for the descent but forgot at the top. They really need to do a time trail on that road going down! That would be something to see. Knowing no cars were coming up the road could mean only having to brake for a handful of turns. Maybe. Then again maybe not if someone’s dressed for speed and running a huge gear. I suspect some seriously massive speed could be generated on that run. Speeds that could outrun cars I think.
And into Uriage, still rolling fast. Thought to stop somewhere for a coffee to warm me up but didn’t. Pushed through hard instead, jamming through the traffic, one thought in my head, back to the car, turn on the heat. Then some delivery truck slowed, swung right into a parking, then all of a sudden with no signal, cut back left and across the road. Hit the brakes hard. Back wheel skids right, release, straighten, brake, skid left, release, straighten, dodge right and around him. Get past fast before he decides to back up over me or something. Nothing like a little adrenalin rush to wake up snoozing muscles.
Down the narrow valley from Uriage to Gières, all downhill. Maxed out in the 50/12, cars have to accelerate to get by. A 5-K downhill time trial. Good fun except I was beat and cold as hell. Seeing my car parked near the river was pure joy. Looked back up at Chamrousse. Nothing to see, completely lost in the clouds.
A few pics, cheers
The morning had started out rather gloriously, which in truth is why I went. Sunshine and blues skies over the mountains, temperature rising. At last. This year winter’s been hanging onto the weather program like a banker holding your money. Extremely reluctant to let go, just dribbling out small gifts from time to time. Saturday morning turned out to be another teaser. Clouds invaded, sunshine disappeared.
I went anyway. Thought I could bag Chamrousse before the rains arrived. Not even close. Which is why I spent a lot of time thinking about those guys in the Giro, splashing through the water, looking up and seeing soggy clouds instead of mountains. Day after day. And they’re supposed to do that clean! Not me, bowl and roll under a sullen sky.
Left the car next to the Isère River. Lowest point for maximum elevation gain. Self-inflicted torture. Up to Uriage-les-Bains. Bains as in baths. Very clean people in Uriage. They’ve got a big thermal spa. Also a casino. One for losing your money, one for losing your fat. Also a golf course. For losing your balls I suppose. Lots of traffic on the road to Uriage, all in a hurry. There’s a broad, paved shoulder on the side going up for cyclists. Wouldn’t have ridden that road otherwise. Didn’t stop at the casino or spa. Passed straight through, past the turn for the north road to Chamrousse, past the golf course, to the north road to Chamrousse. The harder climb. One I’d never done.
At least up. Rode down it the previous Saturday after riding up the Col Luitel from Séchilienne and realized I’d never ridden it, not from Uriage to the junction with the Luitel road. So there I was, heading up into a world of gray. And rain. Light at first, thickening the higher I got. Kept thinking about the Giro. Cancellara in the classics. Hampsten’s ride so long ago. Can’t imagine how they do that. Physically or psychologically.
All in all a good ride to Chamrousse. Kind of surprised the Tour de France has only ridden it once, a time trial from Grenoble won by Armstrong. From the roundabout at the golf course to the top took him 49 minutes. Took me longer. I like to stop and shoot pictures. Otherwise…
The lower half, from Uriage to the Col Luitel, is vastly more enjoyable than the upper half. It’s steeper by quite a bit with pitches over 10%, lots of turns, and views. There aren’t any views in the upper part. Just trees. Ronald Reagan would have liked it, proof that he was right. Seen one tree, you’ve seen ‘em all. For K after K. Same forest, same blacktop gleaming with running water, same fat, dark clouds draped over the mountain.
I’m probably doing the climb a disservice. I’m sure it’s better than how I see it. For a strong rider who can carry a hard pace uphill, has to be a great training ride. Settle in, spin the cranks, fly up in time trial mode, nothing to look at anyway. Perfect for racers. The only race I’m in uses calendars for timing.
For me the road’s too boulevardish. Wide, excellent pavement, generous shoulders, what hairpins there are long and round. Technical is not a word that pops into the mind on the climb to Chamrousse. Not going up. Going down, now that’s a different story. But not yet. There were times when the road seemed interminable. Once I thought at last the end is just ahead and then saw a kilometer post with the altitude. I still had another couple hundred vertical meters until the top. The last 5 or 6 Ks aren’t difficult, pretty steady 6% and 7% grades, and I knew I should have been rolling faster than I was. Maybe it was the cold seeping in or maybe the rain that was now pattering on my head with excessive enthusiasm. Either way, pushing down on the accelerator achieved nothing significant. Just slogging up the mountain to the sound of squelching water.
The end, nothing dramatic, just a huge parking lot glistening under a load of water next to a low rent shopping center. Or that’s what it looked like. Maybe it looks better from the opposite side, the side where the ski slopes run up to the buildings. I kind of doubt it. Definitely not a jet set ski resort. I stopped and shot two pics. Just to record that I really was there in that weather. A digital clock on the building told me the temperature was 5° C. Thought the rain was starting to look a bit thick. Would have added more layers of clothing but there wasn’t anything to add. Only thing to do was head down.
And down. Some 1300 vertical meters of sustained down to Uriage. Then another couple hundred down to the banks of the Isère River. For those still using some dead king’s smelly appendages to measure, that’s 5000 vertical feet of some of the sweetest descending I’ve ever done. Usually I like a little technical challenge in my downhills. The bike bouncing around, diving through hard turns with a decreasing radius, walking the tight rope between pure, outright speed and avoiding becoming some car’s hood ornament in a turn that isn’t wide enough for everyone, assuming the car is cutting the corner. Standard policy for french drivers.
None of those apply to the drop from Chamrousse by the southern road. That wide, smooth, beautifully engineered road that I found somewhat boring going up is the promised land for speed hounds. This is a road built for 53/11’s. I was perfectly happy with my 50/12 but if I’d had a 53/11, I would’ve been all over it for sure. Round, constant turns, big sight lines much of time, lots of pavement width to play with. Beautiful. Even in the rain. And no cars that day. I don’t ride with a bike computer or GPS unit so have no idea how fast I was going. Other than that I was spun out much of the time. Probably could have spun a 53/11 in the upper half at least part of the time since the grades aren’t so steep but from the junction with the road from Col Luitel down was an exhilarating gravity drop. The road was good and wet until Luitel but felt really grippy. Still slowed for the sharper turns more than I would have in the dry but not as much as I expected to.
Then again I might have not been on the brakes too much because my hands were too cold. Kept thinking that the faster I rolled, the sooner I’d be down in the valley in the warmth. Your basic trade-off between an increased wind-chill factor and a reduced time factor. The latter was more enticing. Also more fun. Plus I could feel the temperature steadily rising as I dropped. Nothing dramatic but noticeable. I was going to time myself for the descent but forgot at the top. They really need to do a time trail on that road going down! That would be something to see. Knowing no cars were coming up the road could mean only having to brake for a handful of turns. Maybe. Then again maybe not if someone’s dressed for speed and running a huge gear. I suspect some seriously massive speed could be generated on that run. Speeds that could outrun cars I think.
And into Uriage, still rolling fast. Thought to stop somewhere for a coffee to warm me up but didn’t. Pushed through hard instead, jamming through the traffic, one thought in my head, back to the car, turn on the heat. Then some delivery truck slowed, swung right into a parking, then all of a sudden with no signal, cut back left and across the road. Hit the brakes hard. Back wheel skids right, release, straighten, brake, skid left, release, straighten, dodge right and around him. Get past fast before he decides to back up over me or something. Nothing like a little adrenalin rush to wake up snoozing muscles.
Down the narrow valley from Uriage to Gières, all downhill. Maxed out in the 50/12, cars have to accelerate to get by. A 5-K downhill time trial. Good fun except I was beat and cold as hell. Seeing my car parked near the river was pure joy. Looked back up at Chamrousse. Nothing to see, completely lost in the clouds.
A few pics, cheers