velotel
09-08-2015, 04:13 PM
Sunday, a crazy ramble that ended with mind-boggling views! The crazy bit was the devolutionary/evolutionary bike passage on the way up the mountain, as in: a highway with bike lane, tight two-laner, tight one-laner, then a sort of archeologic section, disintegrating asphalt, gravel, dirt, and rock. Next the stone age, two parallel single-tracks angling up a steep hillside of meadows and forest. And I had no idea where this was going! I mean I knew where I was, sort of, and knew where I wanted to get to, but whether the two would link-up was a question. I was also afoot, and had been for a bit, pushing the bike.
Came around a switchback to the left and saw a small chalet up above, beautifully redone. One look at all the material used and I knew I was saved because there had to be a dirt road arriving from above. No way all that material was hauled up the track I was on. Hoofed up past a parked 4x4 pickup, the tracks ended, and nothing coming down from above. Damn, no way was I going to go back down all I'd come up. Screw it, I'll just hike straight up the mountain.
A dog wandered out from the chalet, looked me over, ambled back, lay down. Then I saw the heads of two people moving around. Good, somebody home, I'll ask. Pushed my bike up their path, said hello, apologized for barging in out of the blue, asked if they could tell me where in the hell was I and could I get to the road above from there. They were seated at a table on a terrace cleaning some gorgeous boletes. The two of them glanced up at me, the man said no problem, just go into the meadow beyond the end of their road and hike up to a tiny cabin in the woods above where I'd find a chemin to the road. Neither one stopped cleaning the shrooms during all this plus they showed zero reaction to suddenly having some guy appear in their garden with a road bike, wearing shoes that clicked on the tiles, and speaking french with a distinct accent! I mean finding a more isolated and difficult to get to cabin than theirs wouldn't be easy yet there I was, with a bike, apparently no map, and neither one of them even blinked an eye. Just matter of matter-of-factly told me, oh yea, just keep going and up to the cabin above.
Which I did, into the meadow then up, and with that the devolution was complete; I was now hiking up a steep hillside with my bike on my shoulder. No road, no trail, not even an animal track, just me hiking up carrying my bike. Wearing road shoes with cleats of course. I swear I could hear my bike laughing and making comments about maybe picking up the pace a bit! Can't even begin to remember how long it's been since I hauled a bike on my shoulder up some hill. Twenty-five years, minimum. At least my bike this time around was eight pounds, probably more, lighter!
Got to the cabin and there was the chemin just beyond a chain. Excellent, back up the evolutionary ladder, jeep track, dirt road, improved dirt road, asphalt. The full monty devolution/evolution in 50 K and 1322 vertical meters just to get me to the road I was on a week earlier! What can I say! Okay, enough goofing around, on to the summit.
This was my fifth time on Mont Bisanne, every time by a different road. Always just rambling with no particular goal in mind. The summit never struck me as something I really had to do. The road to the top is through a ski area and in my experience roads to ski areas are never particularly interesting. But, I'm a guy, typical syndrome, have to get to the top and all that. I mean if I'm going to ride the road then I'm obliged by DNA to summit the sucker! That was today's goal, despite my rather perverse route selection so far. The idea of calling it a day right there and heading down was compelling. I was whipped, already ridden lots of double-digit grades on the various chemins, pushed the bloody bike up the road and then carried it up some stupidly steep hillside! I was beat.
But like I said, a guy with DNA squirming around and sending out pulses of electricity that were all screaming at me that I had to summit. In other words not summiting wasn't an option even if the last 4 K do average over 10%. Too bad for me, I should have ridden a normal road then I wouldn't be so tired! Quit stalling, get on the bike, ride to the summit.
So I did. And discovered an extraordinary place. Not the summit itself because that's just a flattened off hilltop industrialized by the ski area. There's a roundish restaurant planted there that looks kind of like a low-rent spaceship and is a bit of an eyesore (but probably looks better in the winter) plus a small array of antennas and towers right on the summit that look exactly like what they are and nothing more, not like the building on the summit of Mont Ventoux that looks like it was designed by some totally crazed art deco guy. Plus a ski lift.
What's extraordinary is the 360ｰ panorama dominated by Mont Blanc, but not Sunday. Lost in the clouds. A magnificent panorama, from the valley between Albertville and Chamb鬧ｻy through the Bauges mountains, the Aravis mountains, the Mont Blanc massif, the Beaufortrain mountains and back to the Albertville valley. I saw a dozen cols I've ridden, or at least where they are. Also the two finest rides I've ever done, the mind-warping Aravis mountains grand traverse and the magical Areches-Roselend-Pre loop. They were right there in front of me in glorious, shimmering 3D. A stunning place.
Plus, and this is like a super bonus, which is weird because usually it's the top that's the bonus, the ride to get there is insanely good. I should say the rides plural up the mountain are insanely good but I've only ridden one so... I'm talking significant climbs on small, twisting roads where meeting a car is almost an event. A souped-up dose of cycling paradise on a warren of mountain roads. Mont Bisanne, a name to remember, a place to explore. With strong legs. High single-digit grades are the norm, so are double-digit ramps.
Then there's the final 4 K from the Bisanne ski station to the summit. The grades are marked on the kilometer posts. The fourth K from the summit as I recall was 9,6%, the third, 9,2%. Then the road gets serious, the second K comes in at 10,9%, but then things relax for the final K; it's only 10,4%. Add 'em up, divide by four, sustained pain. But, I have to say it wasn't all that bad. Note that this is coming from a pair of legs that have been around for 70 years. So if I can say that, imagine how some younger, fit rider is going to finish off this jewel of a ride. Actually I got passed 3 times during the last 2 K, each time while I was shooting the view, and I'm ecstatic to say that none of them were dropping me once I was back on the bike.
Then there's the return back to the valley. The road jiggles and bounces and hops around and plunges down through forests and meadows. Blind turns are the rule on thin roads which means diving through a nervous gap if you meet a car in some tight turn. Hard to believe but I didn't meet a single car the whole way down until the highway from Beaufort to Albertville. Maybe 30, 40 minutes of sustained descent without a single car! Actually that isn't true; it wasn't all downhill. There's one long flattish contour that's all about big ring jamming and laughing out loud at how nuts it all is.
The highway back to Albertville is a wee bit anticlimactic after all the craziness on the mountain but once the psychological transition is made, it's good fun, just different. Time trial mode, tucked in, big ring spinning hard and fast. Through a bend to the left, across a bridge, then up, but big ring up, the adrenalin still coursing. Across the top, carrying speed, into a series of flowing back and forths, fingers floating on the levers, but no need, the turns round and smooth. Then down the final plunge to Albertville. Hell of a ride now firmly planted high on the have-to list. I can see doing that puppy a lot, each time by a different approach. Might skip my devolution/evolution ramble though. Then again, maybe not because as crazy as it was, it was also hugely entertaining.
Some pics, and believe me, making a selection wasn't easy.
And don't forget, if you like my ride reports, you might really like my book, Switchbacks, available here : velodogs-publishing.com (http://velodogs-publishing.com). A good book, I think you'd like it.
Came around a switchback to the left and saw a small chalet up above, beautifully redone. One look at all the material used and I knew I was saved because there had to be a dirt road arriving from above. No way all that material was hauled up the track I was on. Hoofed up past a parked 4x4 pickup, the tracks ended, and nothing coming down from above. Damn, no way was I going to go back down all I'd come up. Screw it, I'll just hike straight up the mountain.
A dog wandered out from the chalet, looked me over, ambled back, lay down. Then I saw the heads of two people moving around. Good, somebody home, I'll ask. Pushed my bike up their path, said hello, apologized for barging in out of the blue, asked if they could tell me where in the hell was I and could I get to the road above from there. They were seated at a table on a terrace cleaning some gorgeous boletes. The two of them glanced up at me, the man said no problem, just go into the meadow beyond the end of their road and hike up to a tiny cabin in the woods above where I'd find a chemin to the road. Neither one stopped cleaning the shrooms during all this plus they showed zero reaction to suddenly having some guy appear in their garden with a road bike, wearing shoes that clicked on the tiles, and speaking french with a distinct accent! I mean finding a more isolated and difficult to get to cabin than theirs wouldn't be easy yet there I was, with a bike, apparently no map, and neither one of them even blinked an eye. Just matter of matter-of-factly told me, oh yea, just keep going and up to the cabin above.
Which I did, into the meadow then up, and with that the devolution was complete; I was now hiking up a steep hillside with my bike on my shoulder. No road, no trail, not even an animal track, just me hiking up carrying my bike. Wearing road shoes with cleats of course. I swear I could hear my bike laughing and making comments about maybe picking up the pace a bit! Can't even begin to remember how long it's been since I hauled a bike on my shoulder up some hill. Twenty-five years, minimum. At least my bike this time around was eight pounds, probably more, lighter!
Got to the cabin and there was the chemin just beyond a chain. Excellent, back up the evolutionary ladder, jeep track, dirt road, improved dirt road, asphalt. The full monty devolution/evolution in 50 K and 1322 vertical meters just to get me to the road I was on a week earlier! What can I say! Okay, enough goofing around, on to the summit.
This was my fifth time on Mont Bisanne, every time by a different road. Always just rambling with no particular goal in mind. The summit never struck me as something I really had to do. The road to the top is through a ski area and in my experience roads to ski areas are never particularly interesting. But, I'm a guy, typical syndrome, have to get to the top and all that. I mean if I'm going to ride the road then I'm obliged by DNA to summit the sucker! That was today's goal, despite my rather perverse route selection so far. The idea of calling it a day right there and heading down was compelling. I was whipped, already ridden lots of double-digit grades on the various chemins, pushed the bloody bike up the road and then carried it up some stupidly steep hillside! I was beat.
But like I said, a guy with DNA squirming around and sending out pulses of electricity that were all screaming at me that I had to summit. In other words not summiting wasn't an option even if the last 4 K do average over 10%. Too bad for me, I should have ridden a normal road then I wouldn't be so tired! Quit stalling, get on the bike, ride to the summit.
So I did. And discovered an extraordinary place. Not the summit itself because that's just a flattened off hilltop industrialized by the ski area. There's a roundish restaurant planted there that looks kind of like a low-rent spaceship and is a bit of an eyesore (but probably looks better in the winter) plus a small array of antennas and towers right on the summit that look exactly like what they are and nothing more, not like the building on the summit of Mont Ventoux that looks like it was designed by some totally crazed art deco guy. Plus a ski lift.
What's extraordinary is the 360ｰ panorama dominated by Mont Blanc, but not Sunday. Lost in the clouds. A magnificent panorama, from the valley between Albertville and Chamb鬧ｻy through the Bauges mountains, the Aravis mountains, the Mont Blanc massif, the Beaufortrain mountains and back to the Albertville valley. I saw a dozen cols I've ridden, or at least where they are. Also the two finest rides I've ever done, the mind-warping Aravis mountains grand traverse and the magical Areches-Roselend-Pre loop. They were right there in front of me in glorious, shimmering 3D. A stunning place.
Plus, and this is like a super bonus, which is weird because usually it's the top that's the bonus, the ride to get there is insanely good. I should say the rides plural up the mountain are insanely good but I've only ridden one so... I'm talking significant climbs on small, twisting roads where meeting a car is almost an event. A souped-up dose of cycling paradise on a warren of mountain roads. Mont Bisanne, a name to remember, a place to explore. With strong legs. High single-digit grades are the norm, so are double-digit ramps.
Then there's the final 4 K from the Bisanne ski station to the summit. The grades are marked on the kilometer posts. The fourth K from the summit as I recall was 9,6%, the third, 9,2%. Then the road gets serious, the second K comes in at 10,9%, but then things relax for the final K; it's only 10,4%. Add 'em up, divide by four, sustained pain. But, I have to say it wasn't all that bad. Note that this is coming from a pair of legs that have been around for 70 years. So if I can say that, imagine how some younger, fit rider is going to finish off this jewel of a ride. Actually I got passed 3 times during the last 2 K, each time while I was shooting the view, and I'm ecstatic to say that none of them were dropping me once I was back on the bike.
Then there's the return back to the valley. The road jiggles and bounces and hops around and plunges down through forests and meadows. Blind turns are the rule on thin roads which means diving through a nervous gap if you meet a car in some tight turn. Hard to believe but I didn't meet a single car the whole way down until the highway from Beaufort to Albertville. Maybe 30, 40 minutes of sustained descent without a single car! Actually that isn't true; it wasn't all downhill. There's one long flattish contour that's all about big ring jamming and laughing out loud at how nuts it all is.
The highway back to Albertville is a wee bit anticlimactic after all the craziness on the mountain but once the psychological transition is made, it's good fun, just different. Time trial mode, tucked in, big ring spinning hard and fast. Through a bend to the left, across a bridge, then up, but big ring up, the adrenalin still coursing. Across the top, carrying speed, into a series of flowing back and forths, fingers floating on the levers, but no need, the turns round and smooth. Then down the final plunge to Albertville. Hell of a ride now firmly planted high on the have-to list. I can see doing that puppy a lot, each time by a different approach. Might skip my devolution/evolution ramble though. Then again, maybe not because as crazy as it was, it was also hugely entertaining.
Some pics, and believe me, making a selection wasn't easy.
And don't forget, if you like my ride reports, you might really like my book, Switchbacks, available here : velodogs-publishing.com (http://velodogs-publishing.com). A good book, I think you'd like it.