velotel
10-01-2014, 04:51 AM
14 September I headed into the Savoie to check out a road, a high mountain chemin of rock and dirt. All I knew about it was that it existed; I’d seen a sign for it in the spring when Maxn, my son Mat, and I rode the Col de Chaussy via the stackbacks then down the north side. We went through a small hamlet perched on the hillside and saw a narrow road going right with a sign that said Col de la Madeleine. A bit lower in another hamlet we pulled into a restaurant that was open and sat outside and enjoyed some well-earned beers. Mat asked the owner about the road we’d seen. She threw her arms up in the air and with lots of gesticulations told us the road was a disaster, all up and down, up and down, don’t go near it.
Which made me want to see it for myself. Checked out Google Earth, found the track, didn’t learn anything other than it was there. Summer arrived and passed with the road wriggling around in my gray matter. This was the summer that wasn’t, as in cool and wet much of the time with the high cols looking bleak. September pulled in wrapped in mostly blue skies and warm even hot temperatures. Sunday the fourteenth was particularly fine. A perfect day to check out the road. My early start got swallowed up by lots of unexpected needs that had to be dealt with. Didn’t get to La Chambre until three in the afternoon. A late start for what could be a big ride because first I had to get to the start of this mystery road by riding up what Mat, Maxn, and I had ridden down from Chaussy. The profile I found of it showed lots of red. When it wasn’t red it was yellow. Red is double-digit, yellow high single-digit. A climb of pain.
At least the start wouldn’t be too bad, the road to the Madeleine. Or so I thought. Turned out to be another memory failure. First K post in La Chambre showed 6%. Well before the end of that K I was on my 34/27. The next K post showed 9%. Okay, just a bump at the start. Won’t last. Got to the next post, 10%. Oops, slight miscalculation in my head. Next one was easier, 8%, but somehow it didn’t feel any easier. Barely saw the next one while I was staring at the road in front of my wheel, 9%. Only lasted for a short bit because I got to the turn for the road to Chaussy. Where the climbing got serious.
Two-laner road but tight angling up the mountain. Blacktop heavily dosed with gravel but smooth and uniform anyway. No idea how steep it was other than at least as steep as the steep sections on the road to the Madeleine but, at least for me, easier anyway. Not physically but mentally. I like those small roads twisting up the mountains. Their interest factor is way higher and in this instance even higher yet because it was all new territory. True, I’d ridden down it once but have to admit to not having seen much. We were flying down off that mountain pushing the speed and I was like a pickpocket in a roomful of saints; all I saw were pockets. What the road was like I had no idea other than lots of fun. Thus going up was all new territory.
I won’t bore you with details other than the pitch is forever changing, mostly between way steep and just steep, in the afternoon it’s a pizza oven if the sun’s out (the sun was out in full force), traffic is mostly non-existent, views are down into the valley the road to the Madeleine goes up and across the Maurienne Valley and up the valley to the Col du Glandon. I like the climb even though I had lots of moments where when I looked ahead I groaned at what I saw. There was a long section that was new, super smooth blacktop and all of a sudden the bike is rolling faster. A long, angling, curving traverse led into a series of 4 switchbacks. The first one back to the right was followed by a ramp of torture.
After the fourth switchback a short traverse took me up to some sort of chapel after which the road went left and died. Almost flat, that felt good, no felt luxurious. Plus the views opened up like someone had thrown open the curtains. Fields of grasses in the foreground, a high ridge of peaks in the background, in between the roofs of villages and hamlets scattered across the hillside in a thin forest.
The easy rolling didn’t last but long enough for a good pause in the effort exerted. Started rising again, mixed grades, some hard, some not so hard, lots of bends, past houses with lots of flowers and wood and every one with a vegetable garden, a lot with chickens too. Into the village of Montaimont, nice looking restaurant to the left with tables outside under trees. Big temptation. Forget this riding business, sit back, drink a beer, relax. Instead I stopped at the fountain just past it and filled both bottles. One was empty, one half empty. Hot day.
Up into a tight switchback in front of the cemetery. Good location. If anybody blows it driving down too fast they’re already home. Around another tight switchback to the right. Glance left and I’m looking through the tower of the church, as in looking level through the tower. Good location too only this time the driver who overcooks his ability is already in the church for the services. Friggin steep through here. Let’s off, then gets steeper. Finally arrive at the restaurant where the lady told us to stay away from that road to the Madeleine. I ride past, heading to that road she warned me about.
Get to the hamlet and the junction, turn left, and up. I won’t say it was steeper yet because by then my legs were whining but if it wasn’t steeper, it also wasn’t any easier. I was wondering how soon the dirt would kick in because climbing on grades this steep on dirt with a 34/27 is going to be a monster. No dirt, just buffed blacktop. Truly, I kid you not, buffed blacktop, a one-lane road high on the mountain going nowhere and it’s totally buffed. Looks like asphalt that was laid down this year or if not, no more than a year ago. Amazing. Along the edge in places I could see chunks of the old blacktop poking out so the pavement bit wasn’t a new development.
This is an insanely wonderful road, as good as any I’ve ever ridden. What I want to say is it’s the best I’ve ever ridden but I don’t want to exaggerate. But if it was a little less steep (or more likely if I wasn’t quite so tired) no question, this would be the best of the best. Through a thin forest of deciduous trees and fields of grasses sweeping up and down the mountain. The road doesn’t know what straight is. Just snaking along up the slopes. Forest left behind, nothing but prairie now with scattered pockets of trees and some isolated farms. The views are huge. I have no idea where I’m going and it absolutely doesn’t matter because where I am is surreal.
Road rolls over a small hill and my jaw is bouncing off the handlebar. There’s this beautiful little lake in a hollow under the mountain. I’d seen signs for the Lac de Loup (Wolf Lake) but hadn’t given it much attention. And here it was. And the pavement just kept on going. Past the lake, up through a short series of stackbacks, over a low, round ridge and into another basin. Road’s still paved. This is crazy. I’ve got to be around 1600 meters on the side of this mountain and there’s nothing there but fields and cows and some scattered farmsteads and the road is paved. And here I was thinking I was going to be doing this big ride on dirt. If it had been I would have suffered because lots of the grades were low double-digit, or if not, damn near.
And I still don’t know where the road’s going because it disappears out of sight beyond a low ridge. I get to the ridge, the road goes limp, starts contouring across the slopes, and that’s it for the pavement. Not suddenly, just a sort of slow degrading from asphalt to dirt. I keep going. It’s late and I really need to start back but I want to see where this puppy is going. Around another shoulder and I stop. I can see the road way the heck up on the ridge on the far side of the basin.
Check the time again. No way, can’t go on. Okay, another day. Reluctantly. The light coming in low from the west, the temperature no longer hot, the air still, the silence penetrating, I really didn’t want to turn around. But… The plunge back to La Chambre was superb. Thirty minutes of sustained, high intensity downhilling, dancing the line between sheer speed, staying on the road, and leaving that hopefully large enough margin for the unexpected car in the wrong place at the wrong time. Your basic rush.
Some pics from this first excursion
Which made me want to see it for myself. Checked out Google Earth, found the track, didn’t learn anything other than it was there. Summer arrived and passed with the road wriggling around in my gray matter. This was the summer that wasn’t, as in cool and wet much of the time with the high cols looking bleak. September pulled in wrapped in mostly blue skies and warm even hot temperatures. Sunday the fourteenth was particularly fine. A perfect day to check out the road. My early start got swallowed up by lots of unexpected needs that had to be dealt with. Didn’t get to La Chambre until three in the afternoon. A late start for what could be a big ride because first I had to get to the start of this mystery road by riding up what Mat, Maxn, and I had ridden down from Chaussy. The profile I found of it showed lots of red. When it wasn’t red it was yellow. Red is double-digit, yellow high single-digit. A climb of pain.
At least the start wouldn’t be too bad, the road to the Madeleine. Or so I thought. Turned out to be another memory failure. First K post in La Chambre showed 6%. Well before the end of that K I was on my 34/27. The next K post showed 9%. Okay, just a bump at the start. Won’t last. Got to the next post, 10%. Oops, slight miscalculation in my head. Next one was easier, 8%, but somehow it didn’t feel any easier. Barely saw the next one while I was staring at the road in front of my wheel, 9%. Only lasted for a short bit because I got to the turn for the road to Chaussy. Where the climbing got serious.
Two-laner road but tight angling up the mountain. Blacktop heavily dosed with gravel but smooth and uniform anyway. No idea how steep it was other than at least as steep as the steep sections on the road to the Madeleine but, at least for me, easier anyway. Not physically but mentally. I like those small roads twisting up the mountains. Their interest factor is way higher and in this instance even higher yet because it was all new territory. True, I’d ridden down it once but have to admit to not having seen much. We were flying down off that mountain pushing the speed and I was like a pickpocket in a roomful of saints; all I saw were pockets. What the road was like I had no idea other than lots of fun. Thus going up was all new territory.
I won’t bore you with details other than the pitch is forever changing, mostly between way steep and just steep, in the afternoon it’s a pizza oven if the sun’s out (the sun was out in full force), traffic is mostly non-existent, views are down into the valley the road to the Madeleine goes up and across the Maurienne Valley and up the valley to the Col du Glandon. I like the climb even though I had lots of moments where when I looked ahead I groaned at what I saw. There was a long section that was new, super smooth blacktop and all of a sudden the bike is rolling faster. A long, angling, curving traverse led into a series of 4 switchbacks. The first one back to the right was followed by a ramp of torture.
After the fourth switchback a short traverse took me up to some sort of chapel after which the road went left and died. Almost flat, that felt good, no felt luxurious. Plus the views opened up like someone had thrown open the curtains. Fields of grasses in the foreground, a high ridge of peaks in the background, in between the roofs of villages and hamlets scattered across the hillside in a thin forest.
The easy rolling didn’t last but long enough for a good pause in the effort exerted. Started rising again, mixed grades, some hard, some not so hard, lots of bends, past houses with lots of flowers and wood and every one with a vegetable garden, a lot with chickens too. Into the village of Montaimont, nice looking restaurant to the left with tables outside under trees. Big temptation. Forget this riding business, sit back, drink a beer, relax. Instead I stopped at the fountain just past it and filled both bottles. One was empty, one half empty. Hot day.
Up into a tight switchback in front of the cemetery. Good location. If anybody blows it driving down too fast they’re already home. Around another tight switchback to the right. Glance left and I’m looking through the tower of the church, as in looking level through the tower. Good location too only this time the driver who overcooks his ability is already in the church for the services. Friggin steep through here. Let’s off, then gets steeper. Finally arrive at the restaurant where the lady told us to stay away from that road to the Madeleine. I ride past, heading to that road she warned me about.
Get to the hamlet and the junction, turn left, and up. I won’t say it was steeper yet because by then my legs were whining but if it wasn’t steeper, it also wasn’t any easier. I was wondering how soon the dirt would kick in because climbing on grades this steep on dirt with a 34/27 is going to be a monster. No dirt, just buffed blacktop. Truly, I kid you not, buffed blacktop, a one-lane road high on the mountain going nowhere and it’s totally buffed. Looks like asphalt that was laid down this year or if not, no more than a year ago. Amazing. Along the edge in places I could see chunks of the old blacktop poking out so the pavement bit wasn’t a new development.
This is an insanely wonderful road, as good as any I’ve ever ridden. What I want to say is it’s the best I’ve ever ridden but I don’t want to exaggerate. But if it was a little less steep (or more likely if I wasn’t quite so tired) no question, this would be the best of the best. Through a thin forest of deciduous trees and fields of grasses sweeping up and down the mountain. The road doesn’t know what straight is. Just snaking along up the slopes. Forest left behind, nothing but prairie now with scattered pockets of trees and some isolated farms. The views are huge. I have no idea where I’m going and it absolutely doesn’t matter because where I am is surreal.
Road rolls over a small hill and my jaw is bouncing off the handlebar. There’s this beautiful little lake in a hollow under the mountain. I’d seen signs for the Lac de Loup (Wolf Lake) but hadn’t given it much attention. And here it was. And the pavement just kept on going. Past the lake, up through a short series of stackbacks, over a low, round ridge and into another basin. Road’s still paved. This is crazy. I’ve got to be around 1600 meters on the side of this mountain and there’s nothing there but fields and cows and some scattered farmsteads and the road is paved. And here I was thinking I was going to be doing this big ride on dirt. If it had been I would have suffered because lots of the grades were low double-digit, or if not, damn near.
And I still don’t know where the road’s going because it disappears out of sight beyond a low ridge. I get to the ridge, the road goes limp, starts contouring across the slopes, and that’s it for the pavement. Not suddenly, just a sort of slow degrading from asphalt to dirt. I keep going. It’s late and I really need to start back but I want to see where this puppy is going. Around another shoulder and I stop. I can see the road way the heck up on the ridge on the far side of the basin.
Check the time again. No way, can’t go on. Okay, another day. Reluctantly. The light coming in low from the west, the temperature no longer hot, the air still, the silence penetrating, I really didn’t want to turn around. But… The plunge back to La Chambre was superb. Thirty minutes of sustained, high intensity downhilling, dancing the line between sheer speed, staying on the road, and leaving that hopefully large enough margin for the unexpected car in the wrong place at the wrong time. Your basic rush.
Some pics from this first excursion