velotel
09-08-2016, 02:57 AM
A week ago I did an outrageous trail/road up to and on the Strada dell’Assietta in Italy. Put the Strada dell’Assietta elbowing its way into the small crowd at the top of my best of the best list.
Back in France a week later, checked out a road I’d seen slicing across a cliff and disappearing up the mountain. Knew nothing about it, just that it looked interesting. Went in blind, came back with the road threatening to reign supreme over everything else I’ve ever ridden. And I didn’t even get to the end of it! Ran out of time. Late start, shortening days, no great expectations.
Another Bourg d’Oisans ride, direction Col du Lautaret, the start directly across the valley from the base of the climb to Les Deux Alpes, the main road, not the back road. Up into the village of Mizoëns on the road to Col de Sarenne. In the village turned right onto the road I didn’t know, the road to the Plateau d’Emparis. Instant one-laner. Some 14 Km and 1000 plus vertical meters later it was still a one-laner and I was having the ride of my life, all but the first 3 K on a dirt road.
Dirt here is not a euphemism for some steep, rough, rocky, jeep track up the mountain. Not even close. The dirt was smoother than the pavment! Or at least part of it. The grades were also less, slightly. The asphalt averaged 10,5%, the first 3 Km of dirt 9,5%. The dirt was so smooth and the traction so good much of the time that if I hadn’t been looking, wouldn’t have known it was dirt. Not all the time for sure. I mean it’s a dirt road already, guaranteed there is going to be gravel and stones, even exposed bedrock at times. No dust either, despite a southern exposure and a summer of heat and little rain. Apparently not many cars try this road. Or maybe more rain showers here.
Hardly any trees, and only down low. Not because of the altitude. Tree line here is around 2100-2200 meters. The lack of trees started way lower. Maybe avalanches, maybe cut for fields for animals, maybe just the southern exposure, I don’t know. Whatever the cause the result is stunning panoramas all the way. The higher I got, the more dramatic they became. The road climbs up out of narrow gorge squeezed between, on the south side, the vertical, snow and ice clad mass of La Meije, summit 3984 meters, and on the north side, a string of ridges and summits stretching all the way to the Col du Galibier. Part way up the north side there’s this sprawling, rumpled plateau, the Plateau d’Emparis. Getting onto the plateau means climbing up out of the gorge, angling across cliffs and steep slopes, finally rolling over onto the plateau.
The climb up out of the gorge was sustained and never easy but when I finally arrived on the plateau, it was all about moving down the cogs and riding fast. Okay, maybe only a couple of cogs, and fast is always relative. But if I moved down a couple of cogs, some power rider might just move onto the big ring!
I stopped a lot. I was alone. All my stops would have driven someone nuts. Photo stops. No choice. Even if it wasn’t some glorious day of screaming blue overhead. I’d glance around, and go oh man, look at this, I mean this is crazy beautiful, gotta shoot. I figure at my age, why hurry, who knows what tomorrow might bring, enjoy what’s happening to the max.
Kept expecting the road to deteriorate, turn into a real mountain track of steep grades and rocky surface. Didn’t happen
And always La Meije soaring into the sky, water cascading down the cliffs below the glaciers clinging to the heights. Spectacular.
Both water bottles were empty. Hoped there’d be some sort of refuge up high. There was, the Refuge les Mouterres, altitude 2240, and it was open. Rode right on by it to what looked like possibly the high point just beyond just to see what there was. The road kept on going, out across fields of grasses yellow and drying for the winter, road almost flat, going where I didn’t know, its siren call singing to me. But the day was late, time to turn around, come back another day to find out.
Back to the refuge, settle into a chair on a spacious south-facing terrace, drink a glass of red wine, eat my remaining sandwich, visit with the young owner who’s a mountain biker and was entranced by my stoner bike. He’d never seen one. Chased the wine with a good coffee. The owner said I should keep on going and drop down the road to the village of Besse, a wonderful village that I have to see. Told him another time, today I’m going down what I rode up because I’ve got this screaming suspicion it’s going to be one outrageously crazy good downhill.
It was, and more, like it pretty much blew away every other descent on dirt I’ve ever done, and a hell of a lot of paved descents to boot! I have never gone so fast on a dirt road. There were sections where I was in a semi-tuck, gravity totally do its thing, the bike flying. I’m sure I was frequently over 40 kph and might have easily passed 50 kph. On a dirt road, following one or the other of the lines on the road made by the tires of cars. Effectively a double-track at speed. Even the rockier sections of the road were fast.
And no cars, not one. Only crossed two, maybe three during the climb. None going down. On and on, just kept going like that. For sure had to slow way down for the switchbacks, lots of looseness in those, but the rest of the time, highball city.
That’s it, one of the best of the best of the best, paved, dirt, or mixed. And I haven’t finished it yet, that’s what’s really insane. There’s more good stuff beyond where I turned around. How good I’ll find out soon, if the weather holds. Pics, lots of pics. If they don’t make you want a fat-tired road bike to go places like this, you better go see your doc to make sure you’re still alive.
Cheers
Back in France a week later, checked out a road I’d seen slicing across a cliff and disappearing up the mountain. Knew nothing about it, just that it looked interesting. Went in blind, came back with the road threatening to reign supreme over everything else I’ve ever ridden. And I didn’t even get to the end of it! Ran out of time. Late start, shortening days, no great expectations.
Another Bourg d’Oisans ride, direction Col du Lautaret, the start directly across the valley from the base of the climb to Les Deux Alpes, the main road, not the back road. Up into the village of Mizoëns on the road to Col de Sarenne. In the village turned right onto the road I didn’t know, the road to the Plateau d’Emparis. Instant one-laner. Some 14 Km and 1000 plus vertical meters later it was still a one-laner and I was having the ride of my life, all but the first 3 K on a dirt road.
Dirt here is not a euphemism for some steep, rough, rocky, jeep track up the mountain. Not even close. The dirt was smoother than the pavment! Or at least part of it. The grades were also less, slightly. The asphalt averaged 10,5%, the first 3 Km of dirt 9,5%. The dirt was so smooth and the traction so good much of the time that if I hadn’t been looking, wouldn’t have known it was dirt. Not all the time for sure. I mean it’s a dirt road already, guaranteed there is going to be gravel and stones, even exposed bedrock at times. No dust either, despite a southern exposure and a summer of heat and little rain. Apparently not many cars try this road. Or maybe more rain showers here.
Hardly any trees, and only down low. Not because of the altitude. Tree line here is around 2100-2200 meters. The lack of trees started way lower. Maybe avalanches, maybe cut for fields for animals, maybe just the southern exposure, I don’t know. Whatever the cause the result is stunning panoramas all the way. The higher I got, the more dramatic they became. The road climbs up out of narrow gorge squeezed between, on the south side, the vertical, snow and ice clad mass of La Meije, summit 3984 meters, and on the north side, a string of ridges and summits stretching all the way to the Col du Galibier. Part way up the north side there’s this sprawling, rumpled plateau, the Plateau d’Emparis. Getting onto the plateau means climbing up out of the gorge, angling across cliffs and steep slopes, finally rolling over onto the plateau.
The climb up out of the gorge was sustained and never easy but when I finally arrived on the plateau, it was all about moving down the cogs and riding fast. Okay, maybe only a couple of cogs, and fast is always relative. But if I moved down a couple of cogs, some power rider might just move onto the big ring!
I stopped a lot. I was alone. All my stops would have driven someone nuts. Photo stops. No choice. Even if it wasn’t some glorious day of screaming blue overhead. I’d glance around, and go oh man, look at this, I mean this is crazy beautiful, gotta shoot. I figure at my age, why hurry, who knows what tomorrow might bring, enjoy what’s happening to the max.
Kept expecting the road to deteriorate, turn into a real mountain track of steep grades and rocky surface. Didn’t happen
And always La Meije soaring into the sky, water cascading down the cliffs below the glaciers clinging to the heights. Spectacular.
Both water bottles were empty. Hoped there’d be some sort of refuge up high. There was, the Refuge les Mouterres, altitude 2240, and it was open. Rode right on by it to what looked like possibly the high point just beyond just to see what there was. The road kept on going, out across fields of grasses yellow and drying for the winter, road almost flat, going where I didn’t know, its siren call singing to me. But the day was late, time to turn around, come back another day to find out.
Back to the refuge, settle into a chair on a spacious south-facing terrace, drink a glass of red wine, eat my remaining sandwich, visit with the young owner who’s a mountain biker and was entranced by my stoner bike. He’d never seen one. Chased the wine with a good coffee. The owner said I should keep on going and drop down the road to the village of Besse, a wonderful village that I have to see. Told him another time, today I’m going down what I rode up because I’ve got this screaming suspicion it’s going to be one outrageously crazy good downhill.
It was, and more, like it pretty much blew away every other descent on dirt I’ve ever done, and a hell of a lot of paved descents to boot! I have never gone so fast on a dirt road. There were sections where I was in a semi-tuck, gravity totally do its thing, the bike flying. I’m sure I was frequently over 40 kph and might have easily passed 50 kph. On a dirt road, following one or the other of the lines on the road made by the tires of cars. Effectively a double-track at speed. Even the rockier sections of the road were fast.
And no cars, not one. Only crossed two, maybe three during the climb. None going down. On and on, just kept going like that. For sure had to slow way down for the switchbacks, lots of looseness in those, but the rest of the time, highball city.
That’s it, one of the best of the best of the best, paved, dirt, or mixed. And I haven’t finished it yet, that’s what’s really insane. There’s more good stuff beyond where I turned around. How good I’ll find out soon, if the weather holds. Pics, lots of pics. If they don’t make you want a fat-tired road bike to go places like this, you better go see your doc to make sure you’re still alive.
Cheers