velotel
07-09-2014, 01:48 AM
Col de Joux Plane, a bear of a climb as I remember, rode it in August, 08, from Samoëns. Lots of Ks at 9% and 10%. Spectacular views of Mont Blanc. Did an up and back to the col, not enough time to go down the back side. Joux Plane instantly leapt to mind when my son asked if there was something we could ride on our way to Geneva to pick up his wife. She was coming in from northern Europe, business trip, arriving in the evening, leaving plenty of time for a ride. Joux Plane just happens to be along the way, if the way is something other than a direct, fastest route. Samoëns is a good bit of driving from where I live so I never got back there to do a loop. A 3-hour drive in France is considered long. This was perfect; had to go to Geneva, nothing more logical than going via Samoëns with a quick jaunt up and over Joux Plane.
Took the slow way, up through the Gorge d’Arly, over the hill at Megève, down into the valley to join the autoroute between Geneva and Chamonix, then over the hill to Samoëns. In theory slower by maybe thirty, forty-five minutes but a much more interesting route. Ended up taking longer. Gorge d’Arly was closed, probably rock fall, a permanent state of affairs in that gorge. Detour up onto the balcony road through Héry (just before Héry is the turn for the back side of the Arpettaz) and finally back onto the normal road.
Passed through Flumet, to the right the road to the Col des Saisies, to the left the road to Col des Aravis. Gorgeous valley between Flumet and Megève. I’d driven the road to Megève a lot over the years and always thought from Flumet to Megève would be a terrific ride. Finally rode it once during a loop from Ugine over Col des Aravis. Rode through Flumet and on to Megève, turned around, rode back down to Flumet, up to Aravis, over Col de la Fry. Excellent ride. Beautiful views on the way to Megève. Driving up with Mat was sublime, Mont Blanc massive against a blue sky. He and I had knew the route well from trips to Chamonix so it was a bit of a memory trip. First time he ever skied deep powder was on the Grands Montets above Chamonix. I think he was 10. Anyway, lots of memories along that road.
Closed on Megève and traffic thickened, tourists creeping along. Finally made it through after curling around a series of round-abouts planted with flowers. The budget in the towns and villages for plants and their care has to be gigantic. Every town and damn near ever village is decorated with flowers. Hit the descent into the valley, a road I didn’t know. I’ve always turned off onto the road to Chamonix via St Gervais les Bains. The road from Megève down into the valley could be a smoker on a bike. Hit the autoroute, turned left, exited at Cluses, followed road signs for Samoëns. Got to an intersection, no more signs for Samoëns. Damn, no map with me either. No problem, saw a sign for a tourist office. Go there, get a map. Mat says he’ll just use the GPS on his Iphone. My mind goes blank for a moment while I stare at the big, dark screen in the middle of the dash before sheepishly reaching out and pushing the ‘map’ button. The screen lights up. It’s a GPS system. You know, with a map and all that stuff. It was black because I’d turned it off. Then forgot it was there.
Talk about being a dinosaur! And a dim one at that! I mean for this trip I’d pulled out the Subaru Outback and transformed it into a true Boulder, Colorado car by putting the rack on the roof with fork mounts for two bikes. If you’ve ever been to Boulder, you know what I mean when I say the Outback is that town’s official car. And they all have racks on the roof, skis in the winter, bikes in the summer. I’d bought the rack specifically so Mat and I could use the Sub for a road trip. Every time we approached a low overhead, like the toll booths for the autoroute, Mat would remind me what I’d completely forgotten, the bikes on the roof! Some of the booths are height limited and inevitably I was heading for one of those! And now the dino brain had struck again, completely forgetting there’s this GPS system and huge screen with a map. Oh well, back on the road. Over the ridge between Cluses and Samoëns, first view of Mont Blanc from the top, down into the valley, Samoëns just up the road.
Spotted a picnic area along the road, perfect place to leave the car. Bikes off the rack, change clothes, check we’ve got everything, do a bowl, roll off into what turned out to be a killer ride, complete with a long parade of vintage sports cars. Like cars from the 20s and 30s. But that was later, up high on the col. First we had to get there. Spinner of a ride up the valley to Samoëns. Not far but enough to warm-up muscles. Small village, not excessively whored by the ski/tourist industry. Still off-season so not too many people wandering around. My wife and I had spent two nights there back in 08 and I remember rather liking the place. My appreciation probably had a lot to do with the fact that the road up Joux Plane starts in the center of the village.
Mat and I steamed into the village, hit the intersection with a small sign and arrow for Col de Joux Plane, turned sharp left and up. Narrow road, two cars meeting have to negotiate their passage. Quite a few houses perched on the hill above the road. I bet the people go through clutches, brakes, and tires fast because this puppy is steep. I’ve seen profiles of four different roads leaving from the vicinity of Samoëns that all eventually come together for the climb to the col. We were on what is apparently the steepest of the four. The easiest is the ‘main’ road, D354, that starts on the far side of the village. Naturally I’d picked the steepest.
Kicked in with a vengeance. Went from flat to over 8%, then 9%, maybe more. Then an all too brief easing. I looked up the road and inwardly groaned. The road ramped up something fierce, leaping over 12%! A few hundred meters worth of pain followed by some relief, a couple K of moderate steepness. This is the Joux Plane where moderate means around 8,5%. After that wall of hurt, a miracle, a short section that was almost flat! Except I’d just seen a kilometer post showing the K at as I recall 8,5% and there I was on a section that was all but flat. I refused to think about what lay up the road and just enjoyed the view and easy pedaling. That was where the road went into a forest for awhile. Up until then we’d been riding through a mix of small farms and what looked like vacation homes - some nice ones, the sort you’d expect to find near a ski area - scattered over a hillside of fields long ago cut out of the forests. Kind of an odd environment, small, rustic farms mixed up with modern houses that were built in an interpretation of the old Savoie architectural style.
Hit the junction for the ‘standard’ road to the col, wider but not that much. The views down into the valley and beyond getting more impressive with peaks and ridges poking up behind the hills in the foreground. Still couldn’t see the Mont Blanc massif, just hints that it was lurking back there. Road was climbing steadily but for a change easily enough. Kind of like the lull in the eye of a hurricane. Got to an intersection, the road to the col swinging left up past a farm and a small sawmill. Pavement narrowed, grade ramped up, the lull left behind. So was I as Mat must have smelled the col and headed off with a smooth acceleration. Accelerating wasn’t an option in my case. Up through a couple of linked, round switchbacks, behind me in the distance Mont Blanc showing its colors.
Couple more switchbacks then a longish angling traverse up the mountain and into the forest. This is where for me the climb got serious. Went by a K post showing 10%, the next 9%, then 10%, followed by 9%, 9%, and 9%. Over the last week riding with Mat we’d done a lot of climbs, none of them easy, far from it in fact, but for me Joux Plane was the hardest of the lot. Might have been because my legs were hammered but I don’t think so. Partially but not entirely, not with an all but 9% average grade bottom to top. That’s 990 vertical meters of sustained steep. I was feeling every meter of that vertical.
It was up here in the forest, right after this switchback to the left that has a spectacular view of the valley and Mont Blanc in the background, that I saw the first of what turned out to be a bunch of old sports cars. Soon as I saw the first one I knew there’d be a whole slew of them on the road. Summer in the Alps is the season for old car rallies. I see them all the time, including on the plateau where I live which seems to be a popular route for these classic car tours. These were old cars, at a guess all from the 20s and 30s. Right-hand drivers, at least the ones I noticed, which doesn’t mean they were from England. Racing cars back then were almost all right-hand drive because the racing circuits favored right-hand drive even if the countries themselves were left-hand drive. There were some truly gorgeous cars blatting along down the highway, most of them flat hauling butt down the road. The coolest looking of them all in my eyes were the BMWs, low slung two-seaters that kind of resembled a Morgan, only the Beemers were slicker looking. Saw some huge boat-tailed Bentleys, or I think that’s what they were, that were slick too. The sounds coming out all the cars’ exhausts were impressive. Pure music if you’re into cars. If you want to check out what these folk were doing and what they were driving, google Alpine trial 2014; you’ll find all kinds of links. Most of these drivers weren’t out for a Sunday cruise gently caressing their old metal down the road. They weren’t racing but were clearly enjoying themselves carrying speed! Didn’t hear any tire squealing or see any tails hung out in the turns though. Worked out well seeing them coming down while I was going up. On the other hand would have been fun to have raced them down the mountain. That descent on a bike is wicked fast.
By then I was only a couple plus Ks from the top, the road angling up across steep slopes of mixed forest and fields. Finally could see the top, but only because I’d been there before and knew where it was. The col isn’t a classic in the sense of being on a ridge with the road coming up one side and going down the other. Here the road curls into the base of a small basin with a lake at the bottom of the basin then traverses the slopes on the far side to disappear around a ridge. I kept thinking the finale to the col slacked off but no, stiff all the way to the sign announcing the col. The whole time I’m grinding up the road those old cars kept roaring down past me. I’d hear them coming around the ridge across the basin then see them flying across the traverse, disappear for a moment behind a low ridge, reappear, drop down through a curve and blat down the straightaway towards me. Kind of nice having them there as they kept my mind semi-off the effort I had to put in getting up the mountain.
Didn’t stop at the sign for the col which is in a curve of the hill and to my eyes isn’t even at the high spot plus there’s not much to see from right there. Or at least not in comparison to the views a hundred, two hundred meters further along which is where Mat was taking pics and waiting for me. This was next to the lake on one side of the road and on the other, the mountain dropping off with views down into the Samoëns valley, not that anyone much notices the valley. The eyes are too busy staring at the spectacular ridgeline of spires and summits leading to the massive summit of Mont Blanc. A gorgeous place, the Col de Joux Plane but that said, must say the road to the col isn’t one of my favorites. Not sure why. It’s kind of like the road’s too civilized, too tame, no real sense of adventure, no balconies carved out of cliff faces, no hairpins stacked up the mountain, no alpine fields of grasses and flowers sweeping up to high ridges and peaks. An odd perspective I imagine that says more about me and what I like riding than about the road to Joux Plane. But as a simple climbing challenge, Joux Plane is one of the great ones. Sustained flat hard from the village to the summit. And the views from the lake looking out at Mont Blanc and its necklace of rock summits are unsurpassed. They alone make the climb worthwhile. But I never had any of those moments when my mind went all still as I looked around where I was and the at the road angling up in front of me and was just totally blown away by the magic of the place. Except at the top.
We sat along the road for awhile, eating sandwiches, looking at Mont Blanc and watching these magnificent old cars roaring by. The people in them looked like they were having a terrific time. Watching them made me momentarily think that would be completely fun cruising around the Alps in an old open sports car. Like maybe in the 1952 MG TD I learned to drive in, or the MGA I had in college or the Jag XK 150 I had later in the 60s, or even that crazy fast Daimler SP 250 with its wickedly cool sounding small V8. But it was only a passing thought because between being on the bike or seated in a car, there’s just no contest.
Into the unknown, the plunge to Morzine, the side I hadn’t ridden yet. Maxn told me he’d heard it was a terrific descent so I was psyched for it. I love fast, twisty descents. Rolled off across the traverse and around the end of the ridge, met more old cars. Picking up speed but slowly, a downhill but not much of one. Big view off to the left down into the valley between Les Gets and Morzine, on the other side of the valley one of France’s largest ski domains, Portes du Soleil, a dozen different ski resorts combined into one mega-resort. Sprawls over the border and down into Switzerland and, no, passports aren’t required to ski from one side to the other. Turns out the there’s another col to cross, Col du Ranfolly, 33 meters lower than Joux Plane. Big climb to get to it, 38 vertical meters worth. Still meeting more old cars. Most of them I don’t recognize at all. To be honest, I don’t think there was one I recognized. I may be old but I’m not that old!
Over the top and down. Didn’t see a sign for the col. Maybe my eyes were too full of the road starting it’s plunge. And I do mean plunge. Like the first K kicking in at 10,5%! Pretty much stayed like that for much of the downhill. Not at 10,5% but not so far off either. Going up I imagine the road would seem pretty straight but at the speeds we were hitting going down, straight it wasn’t. Constant subtle bends with every now and then some round switchbacks thrown in like chicanes. There was one combo that was unreal, maybe 3 K into the descent. Mat slid by me on the left and I moved over and caught some draft off him. Then he’s sitting up and braking, lining up for a turn to the left. I drop back a touch and follow him into a hard, round turn that fed immediately into a hard, round right. Those two turns were as perfectly choreographed as any turns I’ve ever ridden. I was laughing out loud following him through that.
I can’t for the life of me tell you what the scenery we rode through was. I do recall seeing lots of ski lifts and ski runs and trees but that’s about all. Too busy smoking down the hill, watching the road, catching the wave, riding it down. The road was so fast that we even flew over a flat section part way down with hardly a break in our speed. The craziest part was the end coming into Morzine. The road got narrow, houses and driveways on both sides, and it felt steeper than anything so far. I don’t know how fast we went through there other than it was fast, and that was with fingers constantly floating on the brake levers, skimming speed off pretty regularly.
And just like that, it was over. Hit a junction, turned left heading towards Les Gets. A regular road now, two full lanes and traffic. Out of Morzine, through a roundabout and into a shallow climb. Thought it was just a short bump so stayed on the big ring, churning out a pretty good pace. The bump turned out to be maybe half a dozen Ks long but I slipped into some sort of odd power zone and kept the pedals spinning on a pretty big gear all the way. Enough so that Mat stayed on my wheel until we hit Les Gets where we slid by and took the lead. I think we flat rocketed through Les Gets, another ski resort, part of the Portes du Soleil domain. Didn’t see much of it. We seemed to be on some sort of mission and just powered through right into the descent into the valley Samoëns is in. Fun descent as I vaguely recall, nothing dramatic, just good, high speed enjoying ourselves. Hit the valley, turned left towards Samoëns, the road flat and straight. By then my legs were flat too but Mat is good at towing. Tucking in on his wheel is like tucking in behind a huge billboard. He kept adjusting his speed whenever he’d sense me falling off which inevitably made me feel guilty about not keeping the pace so I’d find some energy somewhere and pretty soon we’d be ripping along up the road again. Somewhere along in there we discovered that the guy who was driving the dump truck on the Col de la Madeleine road has a brother who lives around Samoëns and drives a dump truck too. A big one, like his brother’s. This guy hammered by us at a speed that left us wondering what he had under the hood. The way he was pounding down the road, had to be related to the Madeleine driver. Left us lots of room as he roared by.
We were going so hard both of us completely missed the turn onto the road that the Suby was parked on. Didn’t realize until all of a sudden there were back in Samoëns. U-turn, back the way we came in, turn left, across the valley, up a small grade, my legs whining big time, spotted the car, pulled in, painfully, even awkwardly, swung a leg over the saddle, and just stood without moving for a moment. Or two. Some ride. I was beat even if the numbers aren’t all that big, around 70K for the loop with 1600 or so vertical. A good ride but, like I already basically said, for me not an exceptional ride. The climb as a pure climb is as good as there is and the descent off the north side was a ripping good time but there just weren’t any of those moments of magic. At least not for me. If I’m ever in the area again with the chance to ride it, I will, probably by going up the north side, but it’s not a col I’ll be making efforts to return to. On the other hand the views from up top of Mont Blanc are pretty amazing. No two ways around that. But as you’ll see in the pics, we were on roads with more lines than has been the case so far. Maybe that’s the source of my wee lack of enthusiasm for the col.
Some pics, the order a wee bit random because he used two cameras, his Iphone and a pocket Canon. Lot of car shots. Enjoy
Took the slow way, up through the Gorge d’Arly, over the hill at Megève, down into the valley to join the autoroute between Geneva and Chamonix, then over the hill to Samoëns. In theory slower by maybe thirty, forty-five minutes but a much more interesting route. Ended up taking longer. Gorge d’Arly was closed, probably rock fall, a permanent state of affairs in that gorge. Detour up onto the balcony road through Héry (just before Héry is the turn for the back side of the Arpettaz) and finally back onto the normal road.
Passed through Flumet, to the right the road to the Col des Saisies, to the left the road to Col des Aravis. Gorgeous valley between Flumet and Megève. I’d driven the road to Megève a lot over the years and always thought from Flumet to Megève would be a terrific ride. Finally rode it once during a loop from Ugine over Col des Aravis. Rode through Flumet and on to Megève, turned around, rode back down to Flumet, up to Aravis, over Col de la Fry. Excellent ride. Beautiful views on the way to Megève. Driving up with Mat was sublime, Mont Blanc massive against a blue sky. He and I had knew the route well from trips to Chamonix so it was a bit of a memory trip. First time he ever skied deep powder was on the Grands Montets above Chamonix. I think he was 10. Anyway, lots of memories along that road.
Closed on Megève and traffic thickened, tourists creeping along. Finally made it through after curling around a series of round-abouts planted with flowers. The budget in the towns and villages for plants and their care has to be gigantic. Every town and damn near ever village is decorated with flowers. Hit the descent into the valley, a road I didn’t know. I’ve always turned off onto the road to Chamonix via St Gervais les Bains. The road from Megève down into the valley could be a smoker on a bike. Hit the autoroute, turned left, exited at Cluses, followed road signs for Samoëns. Got to an intersection, no more signs for Samoëns. Damn, no map with me either. No problem, saw a sign for a tourist office. Go there, get a map. Mat says he’ll just use the GPS on his Iphone. My mind goes blank for a moment while I stare at the big, dark screen in the middle of the dash before sheepishly reaching out and pushing the ‘map’ button. The screen lights up. It’s a GPS system. You know, with a map and all that stuff. It was black because I’d turned it off. Then forgot it was there.
Talk about being a dinosaur! And a dim one at that! I mean for this trip I’d pulled out the Subaru Outback and transformed it into a true Boulder, Colorado car by putting the rack on the roof with fork mounts for two bikes. If you’ve ever been to Boulder, you know what I mean when I say the Outback is that town’s official car. And they all have racks on the roof, skis in the winter, bikes in the summer. I’d bought the rack specifically so Mat and I could use the Sub for a road trip. Every time we approached a low overhead, like the toll booths for the autoroute, Mat would remind me what I’d completely forgotten, the bikes on the roof! Some of the booths are height limited and inevitably I was heading for one of those! And now the dino brain had struck again, completely forgetting there’s this GPS system and huge screen with a map. Oh well, back on the road. Over the ridge between Cluses and Samoëns, first view of Mont Blanc from the top, down into the valley, Samoëns just up the road.
Spotted a picnic area along the road, perfect place to leave the car. Bikes off the rack, change clothes, check we’ve got everything, do a bowl, roll off into what turned out to be a killer ride, complete with a long parade of vintage sports cars. Like cars from the 20s and 30s. But that was later, up high on the col. First we had to get there. Spinner of a ride up the valley to Samoëns. Not far but enough to warm-up muscles. Small village, not excessively whored by the ski/tourist industry. Still off-season so not too many people wandering around. My wife and I had spent two nights there back in 08 and I remember rather liking the place. My appreciation probably had a lot to do with the fact that the road up Joux Plane starts in the center of the village.
Mat and I steamed into the village, hit the intersection with a small sign and arrow for Col de Joux Plane, turned sharp left and up. Narrow road, two cars meeting have to negotiate their passage. Quite a few houses perched on the hill above the road. I bet the people go through clutches, brakes, and tires fast because this puppy is steep. I’ve seen profiles of four different roads leaving from the vicinity of Samoëns that all eventually come together for the climb to the col. We were on what is apparently the steepest of the four. The easiest is the ‘main’ road, D354, that starts on the far side of the village. Naturally I’d picked the steepest.
Kicked in with a vengeance. Went from flat to over 8%, then 9%, maybe more. Then an all too brief easing. I looked up the road and inwardly groaned. The road ramped up something fierce, leaping over 12%! A few hundred meters worth of pain followed by some relief, a couple K of moderate steepness. This is the Joux Plane where moderate means around 8,5%. After that wall of hurt, a miracle, a short section that was almost flat! Except I’d just seen a kilometer post showing the K at as I recall 8,5% and there I was on a section that was all but flat. I refused to think about what lay up the road and just enjoyed the view and easy pedaling. That was where the road went into a forest for awhile. Up until then we’d been riding through a mix of small farms and what looked like vacation homes - some nice ones, the sort you’d expect to find near a ski area - scattered over a hillside of fields long ago cut out of the forests. Kind of an odd environment, small, rustic farms mixed up with modern houses that were built in an interpretation of the old Savoie architectural style.
Hit the junction for the ‘standard’ road to the col, wider but not that much. The views down into the valley and beyond getting more impressive with peaks and ridges poking up behind the hills in the foreground. Still couldn’t see the Mont Blanc massif, just hints that it was lurking back there. Road was climbing steadily but for a change easily enough. Kind of like the lull in the eye of a hurricane. Got to an intersection, the road to the col swinging left up past a farm and a small sawmill. Pavement narrowed, grade ramped up, the lull left behind. So was I as Mat must have smelled the col and headed off with a smooth acceleration. Accelerating wasn’t an option in my case. Up through a couple of linked, round switchbacks, behind me in the distance Mont Blanc showing its colors.
Couple more switchbacks then a longish angling traverse up the mountain and into the forest. This is where for me the climb got serious. Went by a K post showing 10%, the next 9%, then 10%, followed by 9%, 9%, and 9%. Over the last week riding with Mat we’d done a lot of climbs, none of them easy, far from it in fact, but for me Joux Plane was the hardest of the lot. Might have been because my legs were hammered but I don’t think so. Partially but not entirely, not with an all but 9% average grade bottom to top. That’s 990 vertical meters of sustained steep. I was feeling every meter of that vertical.
It was up here in the forest, right after this switchback to the left that has a spectacular view of the valley and Mont Blanc in the background, that I saw the first of what turned out to be a bunch of old sports cars. Soon as I saw the first one I knew there’d be a whole slew of them on the road. Summer in the Alps is the season for old car rallies. I see them all the time, including on the plateau where I live which seems to be a popular route for these classic car tours. These were old cars, at a guess all from the 20s and 30s. Right-hand drivers, at least the ones I noticed, which doesn’t mean they were from England. Racing cars back then were almost all right-hand drive because the racing circuits favored right-hand drive even if the countries themselves were left-hand drive. There were some truly gorgeous cars blatting along down the highway, most of them flat hauling butt down the road. The coolest looking of them all in my eyes were the BMWs, low slung two-seaters that kind of resembled a Morgan, only the Beemers were slicker looking. Saw some huge boat-tailed Bentleys, or I think that’s what they were, that were slick too. The sounds coming out all the cars’ exhausts were impressive. Pure music if you’re into cars. If you want to check out what these folk were doing and what they were driving, google Alpine trial 2014; you’ll find all kinds of links. Most of these drivers weren’t out for a Sunday cruise gently caressing their old metal down the road. They weren’t racing but were clearly enjoying themselves carrying speed! Didn’t hear any tire squealing or see any tails hung out in the turns though. Worked out well seeing them coming down while I was going up. On the other hand would have been fun to have raced them down the mountain. That descent on a bike is wicked fast.
By then I was only a couple plus Ks from the top, the road angling up across steep slopes of mixed forest and fields. Finally could see the top, but only because I’d been there before and knew where it was. The col isn’t a classic in the sense of being on a ridge with the road coming up one side and going down the other. Here the road curls into the base of a small basin with a lake at the bottom of the basin then traverses the slopes on the far side to disappear around a ridge. I kept thinking the finale to the col slacked off but no, stiff all the way to the sign announcing the col. The whole time I’m grinding up the road those old cars kept roaring down past me. I’d hear them coming around the ridge across the basin then see them flying across the traverse, disappear for a moment behind a low ridge, reappear, drop down through a curve and blat down the straightaway towards me. Kind of nice having them there as they kept my mind semi-off the effort I had to put in getting up the mountain.
Didn’t stop at the sign for the col which is in a curve of the hill and to my eyes isn’t even at the high spot plus there’s not much to see from right there. Or at least not in comparison to the views a hundred, two hundred meters further along which is where Mat was taking pics and waiting for me. This was next to the lake on one side of the road and on the other, the mountain dropping off with views down into the Samoëns valley, not that anyone much notices the valley. The eyes are too busy staring at the spectacular ridgeline of spires and summits leading to the massive summit of Mont Blanc. A gorgeous place, the Col de Joux Plane but that said, must say the road to the col isn’t one of my favorites. Not sure why. It’s kind of like the road’s too civilized, too tame, no real sense of adventure, no balconies carved out of cliff faces, no hairpins stacked up the mountain, no alpine fields of grasses and flowers sweeping up to high ridges and peaks. An odd perspective I imagine that says more about me and what I like riding than about the road to Joux Plane. But as a simple climbing challenge, Joux Plane is one of the great ones. Sustained flat hard from the village to the summit. And the views from the lake looking out at Mont Blanc and its necklace of rock summits are unsurpassed. They alone make the climb worthwhile. But I never had any of those moments when my mind went all still as I looked around where I was and the at the road angling up in front of me and was just totally blown away by the magic of the place. Except at the top.
We sat along the road for awhile, eating sandwiches, looking at Mont Blanc and watching these magnificent old cars roaring by. The people in them looked like they were having a terrific time. Watching them made me momentarily think that would be completely fun cruising around the Alps in an old open sports car. Like maybe in the 1952 MG TD I learned to drive in, or the MGA I had in college or the Jag XK 150 I had later in the 60s, or even that crazy fast Daimler SP 250 with its wickedly cool sounding small V8. But it was only a passing thought because between being on the bike or seated in a car, there’s just no contest.
Into the unknown, the plunge to Morzine, the side I hadn’t ridden yet. Maxn told me he’d heard it was a terrific descent so I was psyched for it. I love fast, twisty descents. Rolled off across the traverse and around the end of the ridge, met more old cars. Picking up speed but slowly, a downhill but not much of one. Big view off to the left down into the valley between Les Gets and Morzine, on the other side of the valley one of France’s largest ski domains, Portes du Soleil, a dozen different ski resorts combined into one mega-resort. Sprawls over the border and down into Switzerland and, no, passports aren’t required to ski from one side to the other. Turns out the there’s another col to cross, Col du Ranfolly, 33 meters lower than Joux Plane. Big climb to get to it, 38 vertical meters worth. Still meeting more old cars. Most of them I don’t recognize at all. To be honest, I don’t think there was one I recognized. I may be old but I’m not that old!
Over the top and down. Didn’t see a sign for the col. Maybe my eyes were too full of the road starting it’s plunge. And I do mean plunge. Like the first K kicking in at 10,5%! Pretty much stayed like that for much of the downhill. Not at 10,5% but not so far off either. Going up I imagine the road would seem pretty straight but at the speeds we were hitting going down, straight it wasn’t. Constant subtle bends with every now and then some round switchbacks thrown in like chicanes. There was one combo that was unreal, maybe 3 K into the descent. Mat slid by me on the left and I moved over and caught some draft off him. Then he’s sitting up and braking, lining up for a turn to the left. I drop back a touch and follow him into a hard, round turn that fed immediately into a hard, round right. Those two turns were as perfectly choreographed as any turns I’ve ever ridden. I was laughing out loud following him through that.
I can’t for the life of me tell you what the scenery we rode through was. I do recall seeing lots of ski lifts and ski runs and trees but that’s about all. Too busy smoking down the hill, watching the road, catching the wave, riding it down. The road was so fast that we even flew over a flat section part way down with hardly a break in our speed. The craziest part was the end coming into Morzine. The road got narrow, houses and driveways on both sides, and it felt steeper than anything so far. I don’t know how fast we went through there other than it was fast, and that was with fingers constantly floating on the brake levers, skimming speed off pretty regularly.
And just like that, it was over. Hit a junction, turned left heading towards Les Gets. A regular road now, two full lanes and traffic. Out of Morzine, through a roundabout and into a shallow climb. Thought it was just a short bump so stayed on the big ring, churning out a pretty good pace. The bump turned out to be maybe half a dozen Ks long but I slipped into some sort of odd power zone and kept the pedals spinning on a pretty big gear all the way. Enough so that Mat stayed on my wheel until we hit Les Gets where we slid by and took the lead. I think we flat rocketed through Les Gets, another ski resort, part of the Portes du Soleil domain. Didn’t see much of it. We seemed to be on some sort of mission and just powered through right into the descent into the valley Samoëns is in. Fun descent as I vaguely recall, nothing dramatic, just good, high speed enjoying ourselves. Hit the valley, turned left towards Samoëns, the road flat and straight. By then my legs were flat too but Mat is good at towing. Tucking in on his wheel is like tucking in behind a huge billboard. He kept adjusting his speed whenever he’d sense me falling off which inevitably made me feel guilty about not keeping the pace so I’d find some energy somewhere and pretty soon we’d be ripping along up the road again. Somewhere along in there we discovered that the guy who was driving the dump truck on the Col de la Madeleine road has a brother who lives around Samoëns and drives a dump truck too. A big one, like his brother’s. This guy hammered by us at a speed that left us wondering what he had under the hood. The way he was pounding down the road, had to be related to the Madeleine driver. Left us lots of room as he roared by.
We were going so hard both of us completely missed the turn onto the road that the Suby was parked on. Didn’t realize until all of a sudden there were back in Samoëns. U-turn, back the way we came in, turn left, across the valley, up a small grade, my legs whining big time, spotted the car, pulled in, painfully, even awkwardly, swung a leg over the saddle, and just stood without moving for a moment. Or two. Some ride. I was beat even if the numbers aren’t all that big, around 70K for the loop with 1600 or so vertical. A good ride but, like I already basically said, for me not an exceptional ride. The climb as a pure climb is as good as there is and the descent off the north side was a ripping good time but there just weren’t any of those moments of magic. At least not for me. If I’m ever in the area again with the chance to ride it, I will, probably by going up the north side, but it’s not a col I’ll be making efforts to return to. On the other hand the views from up top of Mont Blanc are pretty amazing. No two ways around that. But as you’ll see in the pics, we were on roads with more lines than has been the case so far. Maybe that’s the source of my wee lack of enthusiasm for the col.
Some pics, the order a wee bit random because he used two cameras, his Iphone and a pocket Canon. Lot of car shots. Enjoy