velotel
11-01-2013, 02:46 PM
A holiday in France, 1 November. My wife’s family always has lunch together then go visit the grave of my wife’s father. Some sort of tradition. Told my wife I was doing a ride in the morning, up in the Savoie, I’d probably be late, don’t wait to start eating. Which led to some negotiations. End result I said I’d work on not being too late. My objective was the Signal de Bisanne, again, only this time I’d attack it directly instead of via the Col de la Forclaz. And again didn’t make it. Ran out of time this time instead of out of weather. Too bad because I was having a good time and feeling fine on the bike.
With an hour of driving each way, figured okay, I’d ride for an hour and a half (or so) then turn around. Should get me back in time, relatively. The on-bike and in-car time ration wasn’t good but better than nothing. Like most compromises, somewhere in the middle, not totally satisfactory but not unsatisfactory either. I also had every intention of cheating.
Up to Albertville again but instead of parking there, my time constraint told me to drive up the road to the start of the small roads up the mountain. Or close to. A couple K plus of spinning warm-up time in the valley and I’m at the junction. Go from broad and smooth and big ring to narrow, rough, and climbing gears. But not all the way to the 27 as it turned out. I was either feeling strong or the grades were less than I thought because I spent a good bit of time on the 23 before moving to the 25. The 27 didn’t get to play until way into the climb.
Up through the village of Queige. Small place, no one moving around. Late sleepers I suppose. Get to an intersection, two bike route signs, neither named, just a bike icon and an arrow. I’m sure the road straight ahead is the one for the Col de la Forclaz. I go right. Road shrinks. Which wasn’t easy since the road was already on the emaciated side of things. My kind of road.
Out of the village and across the hillside. Climbing mode but rolling smoothly on the 23. Strong enough that the inevitable ramps don’t even elicit a twitch from my cog shifting finger. Have to be pretty good grades because the valley floor is getting dropped and it’s rising too. Into a forest. Forever amazed that the trees manage to keep their footing on these treacherously steep slopes. A sign announcing that there’s a possibility of the hillside letting go and taking the road with it. Or words to that effect. But not today. One-laner road part of the time, pinched in between an almost cliff and a low metal barrier on the outside. Beyond the barrier air.
Out of the forest and into meadows. And up. Sustained up. Glorious road. A bit primitive in the pavement department but I’m not complaining. Pretty amazing that the damn road even exists and that it’s paved. Scattered homes along the way. Some clearly have evolved into vacation homes but the majority seem to be alive and well and full of happy habitants. The few I see are looking a bit aged. Old farmers hanging on to their lives on the mountain. Also hanging on to their tradition of pots of geraniums on all their balconies and hanging from the eaves. This is definitely not a road tourists travel so they’re not doing it to entertain the foreigners. Like in Switzerland, just the way it is.
Whoever is in charge of putting up those little signs with a bike and an arrow on it must have run out of signs because I haven’t seen one in awhile. No signs for Signal de Bisanne either. I’ve got one of the 1:75000 IGN maps and have yet to see one of the names on signs at the intersections on the map. I always say there’s no such thing as a wrong turn in France so I just keep going. The one name I do recognize periodically is les Saisies so that’s the one I follow because I know one way or another that will work. My other rule is take the road that goes up but here they all go up so that one doesn’t help much.
Turns out to be a crazy ride. Good crazy. Little road winding up the silly steep hillside, sometimes steep grades, actually lots of time steep grades, and then these long sections where the road just glides across the slopes in a long, damn near flat traverse. And always big views. Down into the valley from Albertville to Beaufort. And I do mean down into the valley, not out and down into the valley. In the background high peaks, some already carrying a load of snow. Just the high ones though.
Keep thinking I probably ought to check the time. For once I remembered to start the stopwatch function on my telephone so I’ll know how long I’ve been gone. Naturally it doesn’t register all my photo stops. I also keep ignoring my thoughts about checking the time. Not ready yet. Onward and upward, into the unknown.
Road curls around the hill and I’m looking out and down at Beaufort and the gorge just beyond town. To the left in the distance I can see the Col du Joly and Mont Blanc. Wasn’t expecting to see either one.
Into a soft basin of meadows, the road angling left then curling into a right curve and angling up the mountain. Above a cluster of obviously ski resort apartments. To the left and still higher a round summit. Has to be Signal de Bisanne. A good bit of climbing to get there. Decide I really need to check the time. As expected, I’ve gone longer than my compromise had in mind. Been out an hour forty-five. With all the photo stops closer to an hour fifteen or twenty actual riding time. As a rule I figure my going back down time will be around a third of my going up time. Add in the hour drive back and I’m looking at having to turn around. Reluctantly but…
On the other hand having to ride down what I rode up could be sweet. A few places to pay lots of attention. Like that one section that they just oiled and graveled with a rather thick layer of gravel. Plus there are all the leaves on the road and most of the time the surface isn’t even close to pristine. We’re talking cracks and warps and creases, the signs of aging. Could be fun.
Turned out to be awesome. A wonderful descent, one of the best I’ve done recently. Not in the same category as the ride down from Arpettaz but not all that far off in some respects. The gravel sections were easier than expected, the gravity accelerations exhilarating, the long traverses big ring weavers. On and on, technically demanding at times, other times let go and roll fast and hard. No straights to speak of. Most of the turns blind and narrow but no traffic at all. I think in an hour and a half of riding, I encountered a grand total of three cars. And no cyclists. No walkers either. A stunning road, one to do again. Several times. Which could be easy because there are so many options along the way. Like I said, a crazy ride, but crazy good.
All this is of course going to give a fellow forum member who lives in Vermont and has a 2CV still more fuel for his dream of once again coming over to France to ride.
Some pics, cheers
With an hour of driving each way, figured okay, I’d ride for an hour and a half (or so) then turn around. Should get me back in time, relatively. The on-bike and in-car time ration wasn’t good but better than nothing. Like most compromises, somewhere in the middle, not totally satisfactory but not unsatisfactory either. I also had every intention of cheating.
Up to Albertville again but instead of parking there, my time constraint told me to drive up the road to the start of the small roads up the mountain. Or close to. A couple K plus of spinning warm-up time in the valley and I’m at the junction. Go from broad and smooth and big ring to narrow, rough, and climbing gears. But not all the way to the 27 as it turned out. I was either feeling strong or the grades were less than I thought because I spent a good bit of time on the 23 before moving to the 25. The 27 didn’t get to play until way into the climb.
Up through the village of Queige. Small place, no one moving around. Late sleepers I suppose. Get to an intersection, two bike route signs, neither named, just a bike icon and an arrow. I’m sure the road straight ahead is the one for the Col de la Forclaz. I go right. Road shrinks. Which wasn’t easy since the road was already on the emaciated side of things. My kind of road.
Out of the village and across the hillside. Climbing mode but rolling smoothly on the 23. Strong enough that the inevitable ramps don’t even elicit a twitch from my cog shifting finger. Have to be pretty good grades because the valley floor is getting dropped and it’s rising too. Into a forest. Forever amazed that the trees manage to keep their footing on these treacherously steep slopes. A sign announcing that there’s a possibility of the hillside letting go and taking the road with it. Or words to that effect. But not today. One-laner road part of the time, pinched in between an almost cliff and a low metal barrier on the outside. Beyond the barrier air.
Out of the forest and into meadows. And up. Sustained up. Glorious road. A bit primitive in the pavement department but I’m not complaining. Pretty amazing that the damn road even exists and that it’s paved. Scattered homes along the way. Some clearly have evolved into vacation homes but the majority seem to be alive and well and full of happy habitants. The few I see are looking a bit aged. Old farmers hanging on to their lives on the mountain. Also hanging on to their tradition of pots of geraniums on all their balconies and hanging from the eaves. This is definitely not a road tourists travel so they’re not doing it to entertain the foreigners. Like in Switzerland, just the way it is.
Whoever is in charge of putting up those little signs with a bike and an arrow on it must have run out of signs because I haven’t seen one in awhile. No signs for Signal de Bisanne either. I’ve got one of the 1:75000 IGN maps and have yet to see one of the names on signs at the intersections on the map. I always say there’s no such thing as a wrong turn in France so I just keep going. The one name I do recognize periodically is les Saisies so that’s the one I follow because I know one way or another that will work. My other rule is take the road that goes up but here they all go up so that one doesn’t help much.
Turns out to be a crazy ride. Good crazy. Little road winding up the silly steep hillside, sometimes steep grades, actually lots of time steep grades, and then these long sections where the road just glides across the slopes in a long, damn near flat traverse. And always big views. Down into the valley from Albertville to Beaufort. And I do mean down into the valley, not out and down into the valley. In the background high peaks, some already carrying a load of snow. Just the high ones though.
Keep thinking I probably ought to check the time. For once I remembered to start the stopwatch function on my telephone so I’ll know how long I’ve been gone. Naturally it doesn’t register all my photo stops. I also keep ignoring my thoughts about checking the time. Not ready yet. Onward and upward, into the unknown.
Road curls around the hill and I’m looking out and down at Beaufort and the gorge just beyond town. To the left in the distance I can see the Col du Joly and Mont Blanc. Wasn’t expecting to see either one.
Into a soft basin of meadows, the road angling left then curling into a right curve and angling up the mountain. Above a cluster of obviously ski resort apartments. To the left and still higher a round summit. Has to be Signal de Bisanne. A good bit of climbing to get there. Decide I really need to check the time. As expected, I’ve gone longer than my compromise had in mind. Been out an hour forty-five. With all the photo stops closer to an hour fifteen or twenty actual riding time. As a rule I figure my going back down time will be around a third of my going up time. Add in the hour drive back and I’m looking at having to turn around. Reluctantly but…
On the other hand having to ride down what I rode up could be sweet. A few places to pay lots of attention. Like that one section that they just oiled and graveled with a rather thick layer of gravel. Plus there are all the leaves on the road and most of the time the surface isn’t even close to pristine. We’re talking cracks and warps and creases, the signs of aging. Could be fun.
Turned out to be awesome. A wonderful descent, one of the best I’ve done recently. Not in the same category as the ride down from Arpettaz but not all that far off in some respects. The gravel sections were easier than expected, the gravity accelerations exhilarating, the long traverses big ring weavers. On and on, technically demanding at times, other times let go and roll fast and hard. No straights to speak of. Most of the turns blind and narrow but no traffic at all. I think in an hour and a half of riding, I encountered a grand total of three cars. And no cyclists. No walkers either. A stunning road, one to do again. Several times. Which could be easy because there are so many options along the way. Like I said, a crazy ride, but crazy good.
All this is of course going to give a fellow forum member who lives in Vermont and has a 2CV still more fuel for his dream of once again coming over to France to ride.
Some pics, cheers