velotel
06-15-2014, 03:40 PM
As in no lines painted on the roads. You know, those white lines down the middle and along the sides. So far a fat percentage of the roads we’ve ridden are lineless. Meaning the road’s too narrow for two lanes so no line painted. Those are the good roads. We’ve been on a lot. We is my son and I. He came over for a two weeks of riding.
He hasn’t missed a day since I picked him up early morning at the Geneva airport. Got back to the house from the airport, liberated his bike from the box, are lunch, rode the mountains across the valley. Roads he’d done in the past. He’d thought I’d toss out some easy cruiser for his arrival day. No way! Parked in the valley, did the climb to Huertières, one I know well, steep little puppy, lane and a half, twisty, no traffic, my kind of road, a regular. Up to Col des Adrets, turn left onto an even smaller road (this one Mat didn’t know) that turns into packed dirt, then rustic pavement before diving and twisting through a hamlet of stone and wood houses. Up to Col des Ayes followed by the fast, curving drop to Theys where we hung a right onto the road to Col du Barioz. Steady climb, mix of easier and hard, still no traffic, road curving up a gentle valley of fields, from time to time twisting into tight turns through hamlets. A good climb, mostly moderate but with sections demanding an increase in power but nothing desperate. Got to the col, a saddle between a round hill to the left and high, long ridge on the right. Straight ahead a fine descent to Allemond, a fast, twisty road with a superb rhythm. Not today. Turned around, dove back down to Theys. Way fast descent, excellent entertainment. Left turn in Theys onto a small road across the slopes then up and around and back to Huertières to the road we first rode up. And down. A crazy descent. Gravity pulling hard, straight a foreign concept, lots of blind turns where the road’s so tight sliding by a car coming up is all about a high-speed tightrope squeeze. We didn’t see any cars. Almost 40 K at the end with a bit more than 1300 meters of up. Not too bad a start to rolling with the son.
Next day, busy in the morning so didn’t get away until almost noon. Headed into the Savoie, to a road Mat didn’t know other than from photos I’d taken. One of my favorite little climbs and loops in the area, Col de Marocaz, a laner and a half of mostly steep, sustained climbing. Left the car in a grove of trees near the village of Francin, a place no one’s heard of unless they’re from there. Off through the town of Montmélian then into the village of Arbin. A very good Mondeuse comes from there. A red wine unique to the Savoie region. Not everyone likes that wine. I do. The road we were on curls along the base of the Bauges mountains, a pocket of peaks between Chambéry, the Isère valley, Albertville, and Annecy. A popular road for cyclists not interested in big climbs, most of the time just wandering up and down and around through vineyards cascading off the lower slopes. We’re on it only until the village of Cruet where we turn left onto the road to the Col de Marocaz and up through the oldest part of the village and into a thoroughly rude beginning to the climb. As in a double-digit ramp angling up past stone houses squeezing the road so tight delivery truck drivers probably hesitate before plunging through. After that wake-up call, a beautiful ride, zigging across hillside of fields and scattered pockets of forest, big views of the valley below and the Alps across the valley. Hard going, quite a few round switchbacks, a couple of them a bit brutal but short, then into a narrowing valley and the road goes all limp until a stone bridge in the gorge. Across the bridge, swing right, the grade angles up. Into a switchback to the left and we’re staring at a ramp of pain angling up across small rock cliffs. Up to a switchback to the right and an even harder ramp. The road angling up through more small cliffs and a thick forest carpeted with ferns and moss. More switchbacks then a slight easing and a long angling climb up to the col. Just a saddle in a forested ridge. Not high, 958 meters but a climb that punches well over its weight.
Down the backside, kicks in with some tight swingers then opens up into a bit of a speed run down through an open valley of fields, the road narrow and hopping around. Hit an intersection, turn left, climb to Lac de la Thuile. Small lake, gorgeous place, tucked away in the hills, an island of tranquility. Nice restaurant in the village. We’ve eaten well there in the past. Didn’t stop this time.
Back down what we came up. Short, not even a K, very fast. Left at the junction to continue our descent from the col. Ripping down the valley, some nice sweepers, one blind turn that gets all tight with no warning. Then up across the shoulder of a large hill then down again. Fast. To a junction, we go left, heading towards Chignin back down in the valley floor. Mat’s leading the way, ripping down the road, and into this beautiful set of stack-backs. You know, switchbacks stacked up one on the other with rock walls supporting the downhill sides. Stack-backs, very cool when they’re round and fast. These are. Mat is ripping them up, carving clean lines, using all the road. The last stack-back is a leftie that feeds into a hard right across a bridge then a lazy right off the bridge and now we’re flying down the road. Come jamming into two switchbacks in a vineyard, dive down through a hamlet, hit a junction with a small road, yea, I know, yet another small road. Straight ahead heads towards Chambéry, left is vineyards and hamlets and the village of Chignin. We go left. Light climb to the crest above the vineyards where there’s another junction. The road to the left is even smaller, a one-laner that doesn’t even look like a real road that goes anywhere. We go left. Mat can’t believe where I’m taking him. We’re diving and twisting down through vineyards and tight collections of houses and barns and the road’s barely even a car wide. Then across a hillside of vineyards via a gravel track that we’re just flat hammering down, the tires skittering around on the gravel like drops of water on a hot, greased griddle. Back onto pavement, more twisting and diving through hamlets and vineyards, past a camping car where usually there’s a collection of nice looking young women standing around dressed to be taken back into the camping car. No one there when we go by. They always make me laugh, waving and calling out the equivalent of something like ‘hey, gramps’ as I ride by. Across railroad tracks and onto a route nationale for a short bit then back to the car. A small ride, 35 K or so, almost 900 vertical, a local’s ride, the kind visiting cyclists never see in their rush to the big cols. Mat loved it. As good a road with no lines as any.
Day three, the big day, a day riding with Maxn. He and Mat have been Strava and Instagram friends for a few years but they’ve never met. Maxn likes to post pics during rides with me because he knows Mat, back in Colorado and 8 hours behind us, will see us riding in some great place in real time. Cracks me up this new generation and how they communicate. I’m looking forward to seeing them riding together. I’m sure it’s going to be terrific but one never knows how things will work out. We pick Maxn up and before we’ve even driven out of the Grenoble pond they’re talking like old buddies who haven’t seen each other in awhile and are catching up and exchanging all kinds of info on cameras and videos and computers and flying a drone helicopter that Maxn has, all of which is beyond my dino-brain.
Longish drive into the Trieve, through the village of Mens, over the col outside of town and onto the flats where I park. Objective : Col du Noyer. Rode it with Maxn in November 012. The ride blew us away. Ever since I’ve thought it’s probably the best loop I know. Needed to verify that by riding it again. Only this time the days are longer so I parked maybe 15 K away from where I parked the first time. The road is too good to pass up and the views of a mountain called the the Tête de l’Obiou or usually just l’Obiou are too spectacular to see from the windows of a car. I had it in mind that the added distance would be just an easy roll across the plateau. Turned out to be considerably more complex than I remembered. Like there are a couple of places where streams coming off the heights have carved out shallow valleys in the plateau so the road drops down into the valleys then climbs back out the other side. Hardly noticed them in the car; definitely noticed them on the bike. Steep grades out the opposite side made sure of that. By the time we got to where I’d parked the first time my legs were already squealing about how hard reversing all that would be after doing Noyer.
Headed up the road towards Saint Etienne en Dévoluy , the village we’ll eventually ride through but only after crossing the Col du Noyer and coming in from the opposite direction. Up ahead is the Défilé de la Souloise, a narrow knife cut in the mountains. We’ll ride down that later. Now we turn left onto a one-lane, anonymous road that plunges into a V-shaped gorge via a series of switchbacks. It’s a shortcut across to the road on the other side of the gorge, the one that circles the mountains around to Noyer. Maxn and I look at each other during the climb out the other side and both of us comment about not remembering that it was so long and steep. Like some double-digit fun in there! A fierce climb.
At last we’re on what might be the best cycling road I’ve ever done, an unknown road serving some small villages and hamlets tucked between high, steep mountains on one side and a narrow valley carved out by the Drac river. The road’s thin, twisty, and covered with excellent blacktop, a joy of a road. Out to the small village of Ambel perched on a sort of peninsula formed by a reservoir of turquoise waters. Out of the village and across fields then we dive into a forest and into a small side valley carved out of the plateau then up the other side to a junction. We go right and into a longish and somewhat steep climb, heading to the village of Beaufin, which translated means pretty end though could also mean good end. It is pretty and also kind of the end because just on the other side of the village (and we’re talking a really small village here, like only 20 something inhabitants) there’s a sign along the road that says it’s closed. I go by it at full speed. Get to a tunnel that’s sealed off with concrete. We stop, Mat watches me shouldering my bike and heading into the bushes and laughs. He likes this. An easy walk, a hundred plus meters or so and we’re back on the road on the other side picking our way through scattered rocks that have rolled onto the road over the years.
We hit the road that we would have been on if we’d dropped into the Drac river gorge and climbed back out, all of which we neatly avoided with our hike-a-bike. Another good road, no traffic, narrow but not emaciated, easy rolling across more fields only these are looking like the soil is pretty thin and heavily dosed with stones. Got to the hamlet of Lesdiguières where there’s the ruin of what was once a huge chateau, built back during the wars between the catholics and the protestants. For me a strange place to have built the chateau. We’re talking middle of nowhere squeezed into a valley between precipitous mountains. We were rolling fast and easy through here, the road not far off flat much of the time. Finally arrived at the junction with the Route Napoléon, the main non-autoroute road to south France, a road to be avoided during holiday traffic time. No problem because it’s off-season plus we’re only on it for maybe a K, to the junction with a small (yep, another one) road angling off to the right, the road to the Col du Noyer. Instant climbing mode, like the road’s contemplating double-digit grades that then says the hell with it and goes all double-digit. This despite the 1 K post showing the next K at 3,2%. Somebody must have a sense of humor because we’re riding by the post out of the saddle and working hard. A fat half K further on the road turns left and angles down, thus the 3,2% average on the post.
A bit of cruising mode after that. At least for Mat and Maxn. They’re riding next to each other, spinning comfortably, not pushing the pace, just letting their legs find the rhythm that feels good. And they’re riding away from me with frustrating rapidity. My pedal’s on the metal, nothing more to give and we haven’t even hit the steeps yet! I have a feeling this could be painful. Wonderful road though. If I’m going to hurt what a fine place to hurt. Bucolic leaps to mind looking around at the fields and farms stretching down into the distance towards the city of Gap beyond and hidden by the distant ridge. In the background, the southern Alps, still white with snow. Hit the junction with another road coming up from the Route Napoléon but from quite a bit further up the valley towards Gap. The road to the col is to the right. I swing right and the climbing turns serious. Kicks in with 9% grades. Way above I can see the road slicing across cliffs and zigging up to the col. Looks a long way away. Especially vertically. No sign of Mat and Maxn. Long gone, probably somewhere up in the cliff section.
Views from up here are vast, clear out to the mountains above the town of Barcelonnette. Views like this are rare in the Alps. Usually we’re looking out across a narrow valley at mountains on the other side. This is like being on a mountain next to the plains, only the plains are all rumpled and quilted with fields and pushed up against high peaks in the background. The only way to take it all in is to stop and look but for once I don’t. No camera in my sack so no reason plus with Mat and Max long gone up the road, I press on so they don’t have to wait too long. And to be honest also to see if I can. So no scenic stops, just taking in the views between bouts of staring at the blacktop soaring up in front of me.
I’m in the cliff section now, out of the saddle, red-lined just to keep the bike advancing. I think I saw a K post with either 11%+ on it or maybe it was 12%. My eyes were probably a bit crossed by then by the effort so wasn’t seeing real clearly. But when I could see I’d stare out into the distance to the left. Fantastic view, lots of air off the side of the road. The last couple or so Ks to the col are about as spectacular as any road around. But steep! Around a K and a half short of the col and I see my son riding down to meet me. Or maybe to see if I was still alive. We ride to the top together. For a short time he starts pushing me along at a pace I couldn’t begin to touch on my own on that grade after all we’d done so far. That was pretty funny. Like turning on an electric motor. As soon as the hand was removed I sagged back to my steady pace up the mountain. Around a switchback and there’s Maxn up at the last switchback waiting for us, camera in hand, ready to capture the son escorting his dad up the col.
A curve to the right, the grade’s slacked off, the cliffs behind us, ahead the col in a wide, U-shaped valley. A view I love. Makes me think of Colorado. We hang out a bit, enjoying what we did, Maxn and I commenting on how we’d forgotten how hard it is, Mat savoring how fast he’d ridden up. Maxn said that as soon as they hit the steep sections in the cliffs, Mat just rode away from him and disappeared. And now down. Mat said it looked to him like this could be one very fast descent. I told him it’s not so fast, grades aren’t steep enough for major speed. At least that’s how I remembered it. Something must have changed because this time we were flying off the mountain. Just flat ripping through the air, carving fast long lines through a set of round switchbacks then out onto a long straight. A regular speed run. Up a slight grade and over a soft, round ridge then down again. We hammer past a pickup in a turn, then past a car, out of the saddles jamming for all the speed we can generate. Sweet.
Hit the valley and swing right towards the village of Saint Etienne en Dévoluy. Small climb into the village that we take at speed on the big rings. Spot a bar/restaurant with tables outside to the left that’s open. U-turn, beer-thirty. Draft beer no less, cold, moisture fogging and dripping down the glasses. Excellent! We hang out in the sun grinning like idiots. Then we’re off again, out of the village, down through some fine serpentine curls next to a gorge carved out of the rock and over a bridge. A long run out of the basin and into the Défilé de la Souloise, a dark canyon through impressively steep cliffs, then finally back onto the plateau and the balloon is closed. Now it’s the run back the string, back to the car, the return my legs were complaining about having to do so long ago. A superb finish, the road as agreeable going back as it was coming out, even if I am dragging myself along. Finally get to the car and no sign of Mat and Maxn. They’d rolled off into the distance long ago. I figure they probably kept going all the way back to Mens and are waiting for me in a bar serving cold beers on tap. That’s what I would have done. They would have too but they didn’t think of it. Instead they kept riding just to tack on more Ks to the day’s total. Which I believe ended up at around 90+ K and 1900+ meters of up. The consensus between us was clear, yea, the Noyer loop is as good as any that we know, and better than most. I’m tempted to just flat say it’s best of all but, the best doesn’t exist beyond today.
Some pics, all taken either by my son or Maxn. Maxn will probably put up his video, either in this post or a new one. Enjoy.
He hasn’t missed a day since I picked him up early morning at the Geneva airport. Got back to the house from the airport, liberated his bike from the box, are lunch, rode the mountains across the valley. Roads he’d done in the past. He’d thought I’d toss out some easy cruiser for his arrival day. No way! Parked in the valley, did the climb to Huertières, one I know well, steep little puppy, lane and a half, twisty, no traffic, my kind of road, a regular. Up to Col des Adrets, turn left onto an even smaller road (this one Mat didn’t know) that turns into packed dirt, then rustic pavement before diving and twisting through a hamlet of stone and wood houses. Up to Col des Ayes followed by the fast, curving drop to Theys where we hung a right onto the road to Col du Barioz. Steady climb, mix of easier and hard, still no traffic, road curving up a gentle valley of fields, from time to time twisting into tight turns through hamlets. A good climb, mostly moderate but with sections demanding an increase in power but nothing desperate. Got to the col, a saddle between a round hill to the left and high, long ridge on the right. Straight ahead a fine descent to Allemond, a fast, twisty road with a superb rhythm. Not today. Turned around, dove back down to Theys. Way fast descent, excellent entertainment. Left turn in Theys onto a small road across the slopes then up and around and back to Huertières to the road we first rode up. And down. A crazy descent. Gravity pulling hard, straight a foreign concept, lots of blind turns where the road’s so tight sliding by a car coming up is all about a high-speed tightrope squeeze. We didn’t see any cars. Almost 40 K at the end with a bit more than 1300 meters of up. Not too bad a start to rolling with the son.
Next day, busy in the morning so didn’t get away until almost noon. Headed into the Savoie, to a road Mat didn’t know other than from photos I’d taken. One of my favorite little climbs and loops in the area, Col de Marocaz, a laner and a half of mostly steep, sustained climbing. Left the car in a grove of trees near the village of Francin, a place no one’s heard of unless they’re from there. Off through the town of Montmélian then into the village of Arbin. A very good Mondeuse comes from there. A red wine unique to the Savoie region. Not everyone likes that wine. I do. The road we were on curls along the base of the Bauges mountains, a pocket of peaks between Chambéry, the Isère valley, Albertville, and Annecy. A popular road for cyclists not interested in big climbs, most of the time just wandering up and down and around through vineyards cascading off the lower slopes. We’re on it only until the village of Cruet where we turn left onto the road to the Col de Marocaz and up through the oldest part of the village and into a thoroughly rude beginning to the climb. As in a double-digit ramp angling up past stone houses squeezing the road so tight delivery truck drivers probably hesitate before plunging through. After that wake-up call, a beautiful ride, zigging across hillside of fields and scattered pockets of forest, big views of the valley below and the Alps across the valley. Hard going, quite a few round switchbacks, a couple of them a bit brutal but short, then into a narrowing valley and the road goes all limp until a stone bridge in the gorge. Across the bridge, swing right, the grade angles up. Into a switchback to the left and we’re staring at a ramp of pain angling up across small rock cliffs. Up to a switchback to the right and an even harder ramp. The road angling up through more small cliffs and a thick forest carpeted with ferns and moss. More switchbacks then a slight easing and a long angling climb up to the col. Just a saddle in a forested ridge. Not high, 958 meters but a climb that punches well over its weight.
Down the backside, kicks in with some tight swingers then opens up into a bit of a speed run down through an open valley of fields, the road narrow and hopping around. Hit an intersection, turn left, climb to Lac de la Thuile. Small lake, gorgeous place, tucked away in the hills, an island of tranquility. Nice restaurant in the village. We’ve eaten well there in the past. Didn’t stop this time.
Back down what we came up. Short, not even a K, very fast. Left at the junction to continue our descent from the col. Ripping down the valley, some nice sweepers, one blind turn that gets all tight with no warning. Then up across the shoulder of a large hill then down again. Fast. To a junction, we go left, heading towards Chignin back down in the valley floor. Mat’s leading the way, ripping down the road, and into this beautiful set of stack-backs. You know, switchbacks stacked up one on the other with rock walls supporting the downhill sides. Stack-backs, very cool when they’re round and fast. These are. Mat is ripping them up, carving clean lines, using all the road. The last stack-back is a leftie that feeds into a hard right across a bridge then a lazy right off the bridge and now we’re flying down the road. Come jamming into two switchbacks in a vineyard, dive down through a hamlet, hit a junction with a small road, yea, I know, yet another small road. Straight ahead heads towards Chambéry, left is vineyards and hamlets and the village of Chignin. We go left. Light climb to the crest above the vineyards where there’s another junction. The road to the left is even smaller, a one-laner that doesn’t even look like a real road that goes anywhere. We go left. Mat can’t believe where I’m taking him. We’re diving and twisting down through vineyards and tight collections of houses and barns and the road’s barely even a car wide. Then across a hillside of vineyards via a gravel track that we’re just flat hammering down, the tires skittering around on the gravel like drops of water on a hot, greased griddle. Back onto pavement, more twisting and diving through hamlets and vineyards, past a camping car where usually there’s a collection of nice looking young women standing around dressed to be taken back into the camping car. No one there when we go by. They always make me laugh, waving and calling out the equivalent of something like ‘hey, gramps’ as I ride by. Across railroad tracks and onto a route nationale for a short bit then back to the car. A small ride, 35 K or so, almost 900 vertical, a local’s ride, the kind visiting cyclists never see in their rush to the big cols. Mat loved it. As good a road with no lines as any.
Day three, the big day, a day riding with Maxn. He and Mat have been Strava and Instagram friends for a few years but they’ve never met. Maxn likes to post pics during rides with me because he knows Mat, back in Colorado and 8 hours behind us, will see us riding in some great place in real time. Cracks me up this new generation and how they communicate. I’m looking forward to seeing them riding together. I’m sure it’s going to be terrific but one never knows how things will work out. We pick Maxn up and before we’ve even driven out of the Grenoble pond they’re talking like old buddies who haven’t seen each other in awhile and are catching up and exchanging all kinds of info on cameras and videos and computers and flying a drone helicopter that Maxn has, all of which is beyond my dino-brain.
Longish drive into the Trieve, through the village of Mens, over the col outside of town and onto the flats where I park. Objective : Col du Noyer. Rode it with Maxn in November 012. The ride blew us away. Ever since I’ve thought it’s probably the best loop I know. Needed to verify that by riding it again. Only this time the days are longer so I parked maybe 15 K away from where I parked the first time. The road is too good to pass up and the views of a mountain called the the Tête de l’Obiou or usually just l’Obiou are too spectacular to see from the windows of a car. I had it in mind that the added distance would be just an easy roll across the plateau. Turned out to be considerably more complex than I remembered. Like there are a couple of places where streams coming off the heights have carved out shallow valleys in the plateau so the road drops down into the valleys then climbs back out the other side. Hardly noticed them in the car; definitely noticed them on the bike. Steep grades out the opposite side made sure of that. By the time we got to where I’d parked the first time my legs were already squealing about how hard reversing all that would be after doing Noyer.
Headed up the road towards Saint Etienne en Dévoluy , the village we’ll eventually ride through but only after crossing the Col du Noyer and coming in from the opposite direction. Up ahead is the Défilé de la Souloise, a narrow knife cut in the mountains. We’ll ride down that later. Now we turn left onto a one-lane, anonymous road that plunges into a V-shaped gorge via a series of switchbacks. It’s a shortcut across to the road on the other side of the gorge, the one that circles the mountains around to Noyer. Maxn and I look at each other during the climb out the other side and both of us comment about not remembering that it was so long and steep. Like some double-digit fun in there! A fierce climb.
At last we’re on what might be the best cycling road I’ve ever done, an unknown road serving some small villages and hamlets tucked between high, steep mountains on one side and a narrow valley carved out by the Drac river. The road’s thin, twisty, and covered with excellent blacktop, a joy of a road. Out to the small village of Ambel perched on a sort of peninsula formed by a reservoir of turquoise waters. Out of the village and across fields then we dive into a forest and into a small side valley carved out of the plateau then up the other side to a junction. We go right and into a longish and somewhat steep climb, heading to the village of Beaufin, which translated means pretty end though could also mean good end. It is pretty and also kind of the end because just on the other side of the village (and we’re talking a really small village here, like only 20 something inhabitants) there’s a sign along the road that says it’s closed. I go by it at full speed. Get to a tunnel that’s sealed off with concrete. We stop, Mat watches me shouldering my bike and heading into the bushes and laughs. He likes this. An easy walk, a hundred plus meters or so and we’re back on the road on the other side picking our way through scattered rocks that have rolled onto the road over the years.
We hit the road that we would have been on if we’d dropped into the Drac river gorge and climbed back out, all of which we neatly avoided with our hike-a-bike. Another good road, no traffic, narrow but not emaciated, easy rolling across more fields only these are looking like the soil is pretty thin and heavily dosed with stones. Got to the hamlet of Lesdiguières where there’s the ruin of what was once a huge chateau, built back during the wars between the catholics and the protestants. For me a strange place to have built the chateau. We’re talking middle of nowhere squeezed into a valley between precipitous mountains. We were rolling fast and easy through here, the road not far off flat much of the time. Finally arrived at the junction with the Route Napoléon, the main non-autoroute road to south France, a road to be avoided during holiday traffic time. No problem because it’s off-season plus we’re only on it for maybe a K, to the junction with a small (yep, another one) road angling off to the right, the road to the Col du Noyer. Instant climbing mode, like the road’s contemplating double-digit grades that then says the hell with it and goes all double-digit. This despite the 1 K post showing the next K at 3,2%. Somebody must have a sense of humor because we’re riding by the post out of the saddle and working hard. A fat half K further on the road turns left and angles down, thus the 3,2% average on the post.
A bit of cruising mode after that. At least for Mat and Maxn. They’re riding next to each other, spinning comfortably, not pushing the pace, just letting their legs find the rhythm that feels good. And they’re riding away from me with frustrating rapidity. My pedal’s on the metal, nothing more to give and we haven’t even hit the steeps yet! I have a feeling this could be painful. Wonderful road though. If I’m going to hurt what a fine place to hurt. Bucolic leaps to mind looking around at the fields and farms stretching down into the distance towards the city of Gap beyond and hidden by the distant ridge. In the background, the southern Alps, still white with snow. Hit the junction with another road coming up from the Route Napoléon but from quite a bit further up the valley towards Gap. The road to the col is to the right. I swing right and the climbing turns serious. Kicks in with 9% grades. Way above I can see the road slicing across cliffs and zigging up to the col. Looks a long way away. Especially vertically. No sign of Mat and Maxn. Long gone, probably somewhere up in the cliff section.
Views from up here are vast, clear out to the mountains above the town of Barcelonnette. Views like this are rare in the Alps. Usually we’re looking out across a narrow valley at mountains on the other side. This is like being on a mountain next to the plains, only the plains are all rumpled and quilted with fields and pushed up against high peaks in the background. The only way to take it all in is to stop and look but for once I don’t. No camera in my sack so no reason plus with Mat and Max long gone up the road, I press on so they don’t have to wait too long. And to be honest also to see if I can. So no scenic stops, just taking in the views between bouts of staring at the blacktop soaring up in front of me.
I’m in the cliff section now, out of the saddle, red-lined just to keep the bike advancing. I think I saw a K post with either 11%+ on it or maybe it was 12%. My eyes were probably a bit crossed by then by the effort so wasn’t seeing real clearly. But when I could see I’d stare out into the distance to the left. Fantastic view, lots of air off the side of the road. The last couple or so Ks to the col are about as spectacular as any road around. But steep! Around a K and a half short of the col and I see my son riding down to meet me. Or maybe to see if I was still alive. We ride to the top together. For a short time he starts pushing me along at a pace I couldn’t begin to touch on my own on that grade after all we’d done so far. That was pretty funny. Like turning on an electric motor. As soon as the hand was removed I sagged back to my steady pace up the mountain. Around a switchback and there’s Maxn up at the last switchback waiting for us, camera in hand, ready to capture the son escorting his dad up the col.
A curve to the right, the grade’s slacked off, the cliffs behind us, ahead the col in a wide, U-shaped valley. A view I love. Makes me think of Colorado. We hang out a bit, enjoying what we did, Maxn and I commenting on how we’d forgotten how hard it is, Mat savoring how fast he’d ridden up. Maxn said that as soon as they hit the steep sections in the cliffs, Mat just rode away from him and disappeared. And now down. Mat said it looked to him like this could be one very fast descent. I told him it’s not so fast, grades aren’t steep enough for major speed. At least that’s how I remembered it. Something must have changed because this time we were flying off the mountain. Just flat ripping through the air, carving fast long lines through a set of round switchbacks then out onto a long straight. A regular speed run. Up a slight grade and over a soft, round ridge then down again. We hammer past a pickup in a turn, then past a car, out of the saddles jamming for all the speed we can generate. Sweet.
Hit the valley and swing right towards the village of Saint Etienne en Dévoluy. Small climb into the village that we take at speed on the big rings. Spot a bar/restaurant with tables outside to the left that’s open. U-turn, beer-thirty. Draft beer no less, cold, moisture fogging and dripping down the glasses. Excellent! We hang out in the sun grinning like idiots. Then we’re off again, out of the village, down through some fine serpentine curls next to a gorge carved out of the rock and over a bridge. A long run out of the basin and into the Défilé de la Souloise, a dark canyon through impressively steep cliffs, then finally back onto the plateau and the balloon is closed. Now it’s the run back the string, back to the car, the return my legs were complaining about having to do so long ago. A superb finish, the road as agreeable going back as it was coming out, even if I am dragging myself along. Finally get to the car and no sign of Mat and Maxn. They’d rolled off into the distance long ago. I figure they probably kept going all the way back to Mens and are waiting for me in a bar serving cold beers on tap. That’s what I would have done. They would have too but they didn’t think of it. Instead they kept riding just to tack on more Ks to the day’s total. Which I believe ended up at around 90+ K and 1900+ meters of up. The consensus between us was clear, yea, the Noyer loop is as good as any that we know, and better than most. I’m tempted to just flat say it’s best of all but, the best doesn’t exist beyond today.
Some pics, all taken either by my son or Maxn. Maxn will probably put up his video, either in this post or a new one. Enjoy.