velotel
08-09-2015, 10:33 AM
The most beautiful ride I've ever done. A loop, 3 cols, 3000 vertical meters (9850 ft), 98 K (80% small roads), plus a bonus, 7,5 Ks of dirt and rock chemin (sort of a jeep road) straddling the first col, the Cormet d'Areches, the high point, 2108 meters. Second highest was Cormet de Roselend, 1968 meters, third Col du Pre 1703 meters. I wanted to do this loop since October last year when I rode Cormet d'Areches, a col everyone said required a mountain bike. The chemin straddling the col too rough and steep for road bikes. Rode it with 700x25 tires Veloflex Masters, low gear 34/27. Hard but good riding.
Was sure a loop could be done. Used ridewithgps.com to get an idea of what that would entail. Oof! Long ride. Decided this year, my 70th, would be the year to ride it. The form arrived, or I hoped it had. Thought doing it with someone might be a good idea. Someone to go get the car and come back and collect my wasted body along the road if needed. Maxn was good for the ride. So was Sylvain.
Started near Beaufort. The cheese town. Personally I think the riding around there is vastly better than the cheese. Bike path into Beaufort and onto the road for the village of Areches. Climbing mode, the road curling up through switchbacks, steep grades, some double-digit ramps, wide road, smooth pavement. Over a hill and into a long easy section, spinning big gears into the village of Areches. Small ski area just above the village, another somewhat larger one up a valley to the right. Classic Savoyard village with lots of big wooden beams, stone walls, huge overhangs, slate roofs. Ski area development refreshingly minimal. Most of that is up the side valley at the base of the larger ski station.
Of the four of us (a mountain biker friend of Sylvain had joined us with his road bike; wanted to find out what all this riding road bikes on dirt was about), I was the only one who'd ever been in the region. They were impressed. Through the village and up through three switchbacks to a junction at the fourth switchback. The main road goes left. Call it the main road because that's where most traffic goes, heading to the Col du Pre and Lake Roselend. Both roads, the one to Pre and the one we take, one-laners. Across a narrow bridge of metal planks. Wouldn't want to hit that with freezing temps. Into a series of round switchbacks up across fields past scattered houses. Across the way a good view of the stackbacks on the road to Pre A great climb. Also hard as hell with 7 K averaging over 9%. We'll come down it at the end of the day. Or such was the plan.
Road angles away from the fields into a narrowing valley. Feels steep. Sylvain is behind me and I hear him say 14%, then 15%, then 14% again. He's got some sort of speed, distance, grade, etc. calculating device on his bike. Maybe a Garmin. I knew it was steep through here but didn't know it was that steep. Maybe the calculations are exaggerated but then again I think my legs are in complete agreement with his announcements. Grades slack off, but only a bit. Valley narrows, forest closes in, the shade welcome. Get to a towering, curved wall of concrete, a dam. Road goes left, up through two switchbacks and long traverses, Pops out of the forest and we're looking down at the dam and a beautiful lake nestled in the valley. Normally I'm no fan of reservoirs, they look foreign, an intrusion, and ugly when the water's low, but somehow this one looks like it belongs there. Or almost.
Road carved out of small cliffs, steep, narrow, excellent. Into a parking area kind of sprawled on either side of a junction. Straight ahead a track dropping down to the lake. We go left. Not obvious that left is a road but I've been there already so knew. Past a slew of parked cars, road narrows, another junction, we go right, again prior knowledge. Road becomes more primitive, but still paved. A snake curling up the mountain slopes, one-laner, into the upper valley, a vast basin of fields and round ridges and rock outcrops. I love this place. Could spend hours riding through basins like this. Steeper grades, mostly 8% or so, occasional easier bits. I keep stopping to shoot. Can't help myself.
Another junction and the end of the asphalt. The others are waiting for me to show the direction. Lots of wildflowers here. Road angling back to the left could be interesting but the road to the col is straight ahead. 3,5 K to the col, generously endowed with 9 and 10% grades. Relatively rocky track but lots of smoother lines to follow. Wouldn't mind a 29 cog here but the 27 is fine. Huge views back down the valley with the reservoir just barely visible in the distance. Looks far away. Road cut into some cliffs, around a bend, still steep, and I'm there, the Cormet d'Areches, the other three smiling and watching me roll in. First col bagged, now into the unknown.
I had no idea what lay ahead because the col is in a small depression on the ridge with a low hill blocking the view. First time I was here I hadn't bothered going further to see what lay ahead, laziness mostly, didn't want to have to climb back to the col. A hundred meters after the col I've stopped, staring down into a long, narrow, deep basin with our road curling and dropping down through it. Fabulous! Have to shoot. Maxn rolls by, steep grade, back on the bike, chasing Maxn, he'd stopped in the switchback, camera out, watching me come down. Steep puppy, rough too. Through the switchback, into a traverse, a car up ahead, moving slow, I pass it coming into a switchback to the left. And down, fast, weaving, following the smoothness, serious fun. Past an auberge with lots of people outside eating at tables. That could be fun but we've got a lot of distance still to cover and blow past.
Basin flattens, road straight and smooth, Maxn and I are flying. Whoa! I gotta stop, shoot. Too gorgeous. Who knows when, if ever, I'll be here again. Maxn disappears over the crest. Back on the bike, then stopping again. Oh man, this is insane. The place, the road, the weather, the mountains all around us. I knew I wanted to do this ride, just didn't know why. Now I do.
Long traverse angling down the side of the valley, feels steep, two mountain bikers coming up, they're stopped staring at this impossible view of road bikers jamming down this rocky road. They're definitely looking amazed. Into a switchback to the right, I'll be damned, it's paved! But only the switchback. Back onto the rock and dirt. Into another switchback, same story. Five of them in all like this. Into the sixth on the valley floor and this time the asphalt doesn't stop. The road goes straight and dives down the valley. Fierce acceleration. I mean we are hauling some serious butt down this. Hard on the brakes, road curls across a bridge where there's lots of parked cars and people scattered around, some standing in the road talking. They scatter like chickens when they see me coming at them.
After this things go totally wild. Thinking back I still can't quite believe this section. No idea what the grades are, other than double-digit, the road still a tight one-laner, blacktop sweet and smooth, a wiggly straight, no cars coming up, gravity pulling with impressive force. I let it. Holy smokes I am flying down this. How fast, damned if really know. I know I've hit 80, 90 kph in lots of descents because I've had drivers in cars behind me tell me how fast I was going as they were shaking their heads. This was way faster. Wouldn't be surprised to learn we were tapping 110 there. Totally insane, screamingly good fun. I loved it. Apparently Maxn did too because he was just behind me.
Road dives into a series of tight curls and I'm on the brakes shedding speed but still locked into the adrenalin rush so I'm not in any hurry to lose too much speed. Linked back-and-forths, sweetness defined. Oops, car coming up, not much room and the driver doesn't seem inclined to crowd the other edge of the road. No problem, always easier to thread the needle fast than slowly. All of a sudden the road's going up. Work back up the cogs, even drop onto the small ring, laughing the whole time. Maxn pulls alongside and we just look at each other and smile. I look back, no sign of Sylvain and his friend. They're both fast descenders on mountain bikes but on road bikes, another story. A window to the left through the forest opens and we stop to wait for them and look out over the Tarentaise Valley. What a crazy place. I do believe that was the finest downhill I've ever done.
Sylvain arrives, still no sight of Sebastian. There he is, rolling slowly. His back tire had a fat bulge, the tube almost visible. Usually for rides like this I carry a used tire folded up tight. Unfortunately I hadn't bothered with it this time. Sylvain, a mechanic for the french mountain bike team, thinks it'll last to a village down the road where maybe a tire can be found. The road plunges, out into fields of grasses and flowers, round turns, big views. Into the village of Granier where we stop in the plaza in the center of the village next to a fountain. A welcome sight because everyone was out of water. Sylvain rolls in, a bit later Sebastian, the tube explodes. Perfect timing.
No tire to be found. Sylvain boots the tire, should hold to Bourg St Maurice. A rollicking good ramble across the mountain slopes, the Chemin Baroque, named because of the churches and chapels in the villages up here. The Catholic church had some sort of art renaissance in the 16th, 17th centuries and apparently the churches in these villages are wonderful examples of what came to pass. We're on a mission so no stops. A contour ride except the road builders kept losing the contour so there's a bit of upping and downing along the way. Big views, across the way the ski stations of la Plagne and les Arcs, in the distance the peaks above Ste Foy. The valley seems glutted by housing. Up here life is calm. Long, fun descent into Bourg St Maurice where a tire is found.
Climb two, Cormet de Roselend, 20,5 K and 1150 vertical meters away. Rode down it once, never up. Kicks in immediately, but moderately. Didn't see a fountain in St Maurice and one bottle is dry. Road angles up across the mountain, jogs through a hamlet, some old folks sitting in the shade of the house along the road. Stop and ask if I can fill a bottle. Point me to a basin with running water across the road hidden by a truck. Excellent, it's hot, lot of climbing to do, I need the water.
Up through a switchback then a long, round turn and into a narrow valley with a river bursting with white water crashing over boulders next to the road. The road's all but flat for maybe 2 K. Cross the river, into the sun, grade ramps up. Two-laner but narrow enough that cars have to slow if someone's coming down. A wonderful ride but for all the groups of motorcycles in both directions, motors screaming like angry hornets. Might be exaggerating but I think there was never more than 5 minutes of silence from St Maurice to the col. Not all but not far off all flexing their egos with waves of crashing noise.
Valley is deep and narrow, pretty spectacular looking up. We're talking closer to vertical than not on both sides and yet covered with forests. Really need to do this in the autumn when the leaves are exploding with colours. Get to the section I was looking forward to, 4 K of switchbacks and traverses stacked up the mountain in a forest of broadleaf trees, I think mostly birch, followed by a long, steep traverse up into the upper valley. Road carved into the hill, lumpy with bulging ramps, squirming through the trees between switchbacks, a good climb with sections of pain to keep the legs focused. And always overhead this massive vertical blotting out the sky.
Out of the trees and into an avalanche swept valley. Up to the left a couloir slicing down through the cliffs like an arrow, at the bottom a fan of snow black with debris still there despite this summer's heat. The road's flat, so flat I end up on my big ring! Feels so good. Like plunging into cold water on a day of sweltering heat. Back into climbing mode. Maxn probably flew up this, not me. And still 7 K to go.
I glance right and glide to a stop. A sharp rock summit surrounded by snow and ice against a hard, blue sky. Only 6 K to go, grade moderate, except there's now a strong wind right in the face. From one K post to the next seems to take forever. From time to time the road slides behind some small cliff or changes direction and there's no wind or it's on my back. On my back and I pick up speed like I've got one of those mysterious Cancellara electric motors. Then it's in my face again. Gorgeous countryside. Got to the last K post, that was the longest K I've ever ridden. A wind blowing hard out of the north, hitting the mountains, getting squeezed into the saddle between peaks and accelerating to get through the gap, the gap I was riding into. That K lasted just about forever.
Then I was there, the others waiting for me, smiling, asking if I enjoyed the wind as much as they had. Max asked how much more climbing there was to do. I said not much but I was beat, there was no way my legs could do Col du Pre. Drank some water, jumped on the bike, rolled off, moving down the cogs, accelerating, diving into the descent down to Lake Roselend. Cars and people all over the place. The road's fast and I was on the beam, carving through the turns, passing cars with abandon. Down through a gap in a the rock cliffs above the lake, the road steepens, traffic coming up, traffic going down, no problem, ride the white line, hurtling down the road. The views through here of the lake and surrounding peaks are spectacular but all I was seeing was my line down the mountain. Around the end of the lake to the Col de Meraillet and the junction with the road to the Col du Pre. From there to Beaufort is all downhill. But uninteresting. The road too wide, too straight, not steep enough. A major anticlimax to all that we've done so far. And I was sure the plunge off Pre would be a good one. Only 165 vertical meters of up. But hard. A K at over 9%. But no wind!
Max finally rolled in. He'd stopped for pictures. Then the Sylvain and Sebastian. They agreed, Col du Pre needed to be done. With a stop at the restaurant near the col. We're off, down a steep pitch, across the one-lane wide dam, into the climb. Short but fierce and rich with views. The restaurant, perfect, relax, cold beers, nothing but downhill afterwards.
I'd never gone down the other side of Pre, only up. Wasn't sure what it would be like, other than tight and steep. Turned out to be ripping good fun. With lots of car passing again. Most of the drivers as soon as they saw me in their mirror gave me what space they could and I'd fly by with Maxn right behind. One driver seemed to think there was no way he was going to get passed. He was wrong. A fine descent, fast, technical, thoroughly engrossing. Hit the junction where we headed off to Areches so long ago. The loop closed. Back to Beaufort, back to the car. One awesome ride. A have-to-ride, no question. The most beautiful I've ever done.
Was sure a loop could be done. Used ridewithgps.com to get an idea of what that would entail. Oof! Long ride. Decided this year, my 70th, would be the year to ride it. The form arrived, or I hoped it had. Thought doing it with someone might be a good idea. Someone to go get the car and come back and collect my wasted body along the road if needed. Maxn was good for the ride. So was Sylvain.
Started near Beaufort. The cheese town. Personally I think the riding around there is vastly better than the cheese. Bike path into Beaufort and onto the road for the village of Areches. Climbing mode, the road curling up through switchbacks, steep grades, some double-digit ramps, wide road, smooth pavement. Over a hill and into a long easy section, spinning big gears into the village of Areches. Small ski area just above the village, another somewhat larger one up a valley to the right. Classic Savoyard village with lots of big wooden beams, stone walls, huge overhangs, slate roofs. Ski area development refreshingly minimal. Most of that is up the side valley at the base of the larger ski station.
Of the four of us (a mountain biker friend of Sylvain had joined us with his road bike; wanted to find out what all this riding road bikes on dirt was about), I was the only one who'd ever been in the region. They were impressed. Through the village and up through three switchbacks to a junction at the fourth switchback. The main road goes left. Call it the main road because that's where most traffic goes, heading to the Col du Pre and Lake Roselend. Both roads, the one to Pre and the one we take, one-laners. Across a narrow bridge of metal planks. Wouldn't want to hit that with freezing temps. Into a series of round switchbacks up across fields past scattered houses. Across the way a good view of the stackbacks on the road to Pre A great climb. Also hard as hell with 7 K averaging over 9%. We'll come down it at the end of the day. Or such was the plan.
Road angles away from the fields into a narrowing valley. Feels steep. Sylvain is behind me and I hear him say 14%, then 15%, then 14% again. He's got some sort of speed, distance, grade, etc. calculating device on his bike. Maybe a Garmin. I knew it was steep through here but didn't know it was that steep. Maybe the calculations are exaggerated but then again I think my legs are in complete agreement with his announcements. Grades slack off, but only a bit. Valley narrows, forest closes in, the shade welcome. Get to a towering, curved wall of concrete, a dam. Road goes left, up through two switchbacks and long traverses, Pops out of the forest and we're looking down at the dam and a beautiful lake nestled in the valley. Normally I'm no fan of reservoirs, they look foreign, an intrusion, and ugly when the water's low, but somehow this one looks like it belongs there. Or almost.
Road carved out of small cliffs, steep, narrow, excellent. Into a parking area kind of sprawled on either side of a junction. Straight ahead a track dropping down to the lake. We go left. Not obvious that left is a road but I've been there already so knew. Past a slew of parked cars, road narrows, another junction, we go right, again prior knowledge. Road becomes more primitive, but still paved. A snake curling up the mountain slopes, one-laner, into the upper valley, a vast basin of fields and round ridges and rock outcrops. I love this place. Could spend hours riding through basins like this. Steeper grades, mostly 8% or so, occasional easier bits. I keep stopping to shoot. Can't help myself.
Another junction and the end of the asphalt. The others are waiting for me to show the direction. Lots of wildflowers here. Road angling back to the left could be interesting but the road to the col is straight ahead. 3,5 K to the col, generously endowed with 9 and 10% grades. Relatively rocky track but lots of smoother lines to follow. Wouldn't mind a 29 cog here but the 27 is fine. Huge views back down the valley with the reservoir just barely visible in the distance. Looks far away. Road cut into some cliffs, around a bend, still steep, and I'm there, the Cormet d'Areches, the other three smiling and watching me roll in. First col bagged, now into the unknown.
I had no idea what lay ahead because the col is in a small depression on the ridge with a low hill blocking the view. First time I was here I hadn't bothered going further to see what lay ahead, laziness mostly, didn't want to have to climb back to the col. A hundred meters after the col I've stopped, staring down into a long, narrow, deep basin with our road curling and dropping down through it. Fabulous! Have to shoot. Maxn rolls by, steep grade, back on the bike, chasing Maxn, he'd stopped in the switchback, camera out, watching me come down. Steep puppy, rough too. Through the switchback, into a traverse, a car up ahead, moving slow, I pass it coming into a switchback to the left. And down, fast, weaving, following the smoothness, serious fun. Past an auberge with lots of people outside eating at tables. That could be fun but we've got a lot of distance still to cover and blow past.
Basin flattens, road straight and smooth, Maxn and I are flying. Whoa! I gotta stop, shoot. Too gorgeous. Who knows when, if ever, I'll be here again. Maxn disappears over the crest. Back on the bike, then stopping again. Oh man, this is insane. The place, the road, the weather, the mountains all around us. I knew I wanted to do this ride, just didn't know why. Now I do.
Long traverse angling down the side of the valley, feels steep, two mountain bikers coming up, they're stopped staring at this impossible view of road bikers jamming down this rocky road. They're definitely looking amazed. Into a switchback to the right, I'll be damned, it's paved! But only the switchback. Back onto the rock and dirt. Into another switchback, same story. Five of them in all like this. Into the sixth on the valley floor and this time the asphalt doesn't stop. The road goes straight and dives down the valley. Fierce acceleration. I mean we are hauling some serious butt down this. Hard on the brakes, road curls across a bridge where there's lots of parked cars and people scattered around, some standing in the road talking. They scatter like chickens when they see me coming at them.
After this things go totally wild. Thinking back I still can't quite believe this section. No idea what the grades are, other than double-digit, the road still a tight one-laner, blacktop sweet and smooth, a wiggly straight, no cars coming up, gravity pulling with impressive force. I let it. Holy smokes I am flying down this. How fast, damned if really know. I know I've hit 80, 90 kph in lots of descents because I've had drivers in cars behind me tell me how fast I was going as they were shaking their heads. This was way faster. Wouldn't be surprised to learn we were tapping 110 there. Totally insane, screamingly good fun. I loved it. Apparently Maxn did too because he was just behind me.
Road dives into a series of tight curls and I'm on the brakes shedding speed but still locked into the adrenalin rush so I'm not in any hurry to lose too much speed. Linked back-and-forths, sweetness defined. Oops, car coming up, not much room and the driver doesn't seem inclined to crowd the other edge of the road. No problem, always easier to thread the needle fast than slowly. All of a sudden the road's going up. Work back up the cogs, even drop onto the small ring, laughing the whole time. Maxn pulls alongside and we just look at each other and smile. I look back, no sign of Sylvain and his friend. They're both fast descenders on mountain bikes but on road bikes, another story. A window to the left through the forest opens and we stop to wait for them and look out over the Tarentaise Valley. What a crazy place. I do believe that was the finest downhill I've ever done.
Sylvain arrives, still no sight of Sebastian. There he is, rolling slowly. His back tire had a fat bulge, the tube almost visible. Usually for rides like this I carry a used tire folded up tight. Unfortunately I hadn't bothered with it this time. Sylvain, a mechanic for the french mountain bike team, thinks it'll last to a village down the road where maybe a tire can be found. The road plunges, out into fields of grasses and flowers, round turns, big views. Into the village of Granier where we stop in the plaza in the center of the village next to a fountain. A welcome sight because everyone was out of water. Sylvain rolls in, a bit later Sebastian, the tube explodes. Perfect timing.
No tire to be found. Sylvain boots the tire, should hold to Bourg St Maurice. A rollicking good ramble across the mountain slopes, the Chemin Baroque, named because of the churches and chapels in the villages up here. The Catholic church had some sort of art renaissance in the 16th, 17th centuries and apparently the churches in these villages are wonderful examples of what came to pass. We're on a mission so no stops. A contour ride except the road builders kept losing the contour so there's a bit of upping and downing along the way. Big views, across the way the ski stations of la Plagne and les Arcs, in the distance the peaks above Ste Foy. The valley seems glutted by housing. Up here life is calm. Long, fun descent into Bourg St Maurice where a tire is found.
Climb two, Cormet de Roselend, 20,5 K and 1150 vertical meters away. Rode down it once, never up. Kicks in immediately, but moderately. Didn't see a fountain in St Maurice and one bottle is dry. Road angles up across the mountain, jogs through a hamlet, some old folks sitting in the shade of the house along the road. Stop and ask if I can fill a bottle. Point me to a basin with running water across the road hidden by a truck. Excellent, it's hot, lot of climbing to do, I need the water.
Up through a switchback then a long, round turn and into a narrow valley with a river bursting with white water crashing over boulders next to the road. The road's all but flat for maybe 2 K. Cross the river, into the sun, grade ramps up. Two-laner but narrow enough that cars have to slow if someone's coming down. A wonderful ride but for all the groups of motorcycles in both directions, motors screaming like angry hornets. Might be exaggerating but I think there was never more than 5 minutes of silence from St Maurice to the col. Not all but not far off all flexing their egos with waves of crashing noise.
Valley is deep and narrow, pretty spectacular looking up. We're talking closer to vertical than not on both sides and yet covered with forests. Really need to do this in the autumn when the leaves are exploding with colours. Get to the section I was looking forward to, 4 K of switchbacks and traverses stacked up the mountain in a forest of broadleaf trees, I think mostly birch, followed by a long, steep traverse up into the upper valley. Road carved into the hill, lumpy with bulging ramps, squirming through the trees between switchbacks, a good climb with sections of pain to keep the legs focused. And always overhead this massive vertical blotting out the sky.
Out of the trees and into an avalanche swept valley. Up to the left a couloir slicing down through the cliffs like an arrow, at the bottom a fan of snow black with debris still there despite this summer's heat. The road's flat, so flat I end up on my big ring! Feels so good. Like plunging into cold water on a day of sweltering heat. Back into climbing mode. Maxn probably flew up this, not me. And still 7 K to go.
I glance right and glide to a stop. A sharp rock summit surrounded by snow and ice against a hard, blue sky. Only 6 K to go, grade moderate, except there's now a strong wind right in the face. From one K post to the next seems to take forever. From time to time the road slides behind some small cliff or changes direction and there's no wind or it's on my back. On my back and I pick up speed like I've got one of those mysterious Cancellara electric motors. Then it's in my face again. Gorgeous countryside. Got to the last K post, that was the longest K I've ever ridden. A wind blowing hard out of the north, hitting the mountains, getting squeezed into the saddle between peaks and accelerating to get through the gap, the gap I was riding into. That K lasted just about forever.
Then I was there, the others waiting for me, smiling, asking if I enjoyed the wind as much as they had. Max asked how much more climbing there was to do. I said not much but I was beat, there was no way my legs could do Col du Pre. Drank some water, jumped on the bike, rolled off, moving down the cogs, accelerating, diving into the descent down to Lake Roselend. Cars and people all over the place. The road's fast and I was on the beam, carving through the turns, passing cars with abandon. Down through a gap in a the rock cliffs above the lake, the road steepens, traffic coming up, traffic going down, no problem, ride the white line, hurtling down the road. The views through here of the lake and surrounding peaks are spectacular but all I was seeing was my line down the mountain. Around the end of the lake to the Col de Meraillet and the junction with the road to the Col du Pre. From there to Beaufort is all downhill. But uninteresting. The road too wide, too straight, not steep enough. A major anticlimax to all that we've done so far. And I was sure the plunge off Pre would be a good one. Only 165 vertical meters of up. But hard. A K at over 9%. But no wind!
Max finally rolled in. He'd stopped for pictures. Then the Sylvain and Sebastian. They agreed, Col du Pre needed to be done. With a stop at the restaurant near the col. We're off, down a steep pitch, across the one-lane wide dam, into the climb. Short but fierce and rich with views. The restaurant, perfect, relax, cold beers, nothing but downhill afterwards.
I'd never gone down the other side of Pre, only up. Wasn't sure what it would be like, other than tight and steep. Turned out to be ripping good fun. With lots of car passing again. Most of the drivers as soon as they saw me in their mirror gave me what space they could and I'd fly by with Maxn right behind. One driver seemed to think there was no way he was going to get passed. He was wrong. A fine descent, fast, technical, thoroughly engrossing. Hit the junction where we headed off to Areches so long ago. The loop closed. Back to Beaufort, back to the car. One awesome ride. A have-to-ride, no question. The most beautiful I've ever done.