velotel
06-06-2017, 03:52 AM
Started with the climb to the Col de l’Arpettaz, by the north road. 42 switchbacks (by the roads I took), 1150 vertical meters (3773 ft), average grade 8% but generously endowed with double-digit ramps, col at 1581 meters. Last time I was on the col was in mid-April to celebrate being 72 years old, check my form, see how soon the dirt road to the Col des Aravis would be rideable.
Weather a bit sketchy with clouds sagging down over the mountains after a night of rain. Parked near Ugine, rolled off on the bike path. 30 meters later turned around, back to the car, changed from shorts to the tights. Medium thick ones. Too hot in the valley for tights but conditions high would change. Back on the bike path. Goes all the way to Annecy, most of the time not even near a road. Did it for a few K then turned right, crossed the highway, headed up.
A climb that instantly leaps to mind anytime I start thinking about best climbs. To be inevitably superseded by the climb to the Colle delle Finestre in Italy. The italian has 1711 vertical (5614 ft), half again the vertical on Arpettaz, and averages over 9% for the distance against 8% for Arpettaz! The italian’s last 8 K are also dirt! Finestre stands alone but, that said, Arpettaz is as beautiful a climb as I’ve ever done.
A generous one-laner damn, pavement rustic and knobbly with lots of patches, no guardrails, surface jumping around. No painted lines either, instant sign of a road for riding. Lower third out in the open and can bake under the sun. Then lost in a forest until approaching the col. Looked like the top half would be lost in fog.
Headed up and was blasted by greens, intense greens, shades of greens, like everything was supercharged with green. The kinds of greens you usually need cool sunglasses to see, or some psychedelics. The place is saturated in greens. Had a suspicion that with the low clouds some good shots might be possible.
Up through the fields was toast city but I like heat. Slipped into the forest, the air cooled. Road wandering back and forth up the mountain like some sort of goat track on a mission. Got to the section of stretched out stackbacks. They’re invisible with leaves out but in the winter there’s one place where I’ve stopped and looked down and saw the road six times. This is in what I call the enchanted forest. Mountainside’s steep, the trees tall, deciduous, the branches high up the trunks so there’s this wonderful vision down through the forest with the ground buried in leaves and mulch and round boulders covered with moss. The light was muted and soft with wisps of fog for a magical effect.
Well up into the second half I suddenly realized my riding was strong without pushing, a delightful sensation of smooth and fast. For me of course. All things are relative but still, couldn’t help but think from time to time that for someone in his 73rd year I was going well.
Left the trees, rolled into the final sweeping curves across fields swept clean by avalanches off the heights. By then I was scraping the bottom layer of fog and visibility was weak. Didn’t see the col arriving until I was a couple hundred meters away.
I’d been hearing some strange, periodic noise during the last bit of the climb with no idea what in the hell was causing it. The source was just past the col. Somebody or some organization had set up a shooting range a hundred meters down why I’d done all that climbing, the dirt road, what I call the Grand Traverse, linking across the mountains to the Col des Aravis. A huge crowd was blasting away with various guns. Some big ass caliber guns too judging by some of the sounds. Must have been well over 50 cars parked along the track. Horrible racket!
I swept off the col and down the rocky track, weaving around people wandering in the roadway. They’d get this deer in the headlamps look when they’d see me coming then at the last moment scatter. Invariably those on the right would dart left and the those on the left would dart right!
The track was in pretty good shape because of rains and enough traffic to pack the stones and gravel so I was hauling, pushed by that horrible banging going on behind me. Wanted to get up the long hill to the high point of the traverse where hopefully I’d be able to once again enjoy the tranquility of where I was.
Hard climb on steeper grades and a surface that at times was downright gnarly with small rocks pretending they were gravel. A mountain biker with big tires and suspension would have barely noticed the condition. My 35mm Bon Jon tires did a hell of a job anyway. Surprisingly smooth with, excellent traction despite the lack of knobs.
Looked up and saw what I consider the crux of the entire Grand Traverse, at least in the Arpettaz to Aravis direction. Up through two switchbacks where the road is always, in my experience, rocky and loose. Plus steep. Lots of the loose rocks are fist-sized. Came into the switchback to the left slow, scanning for the best line. There it was on the outside. Hunkered down over the nose of the saddle, hands in the drops, plunged into the zone, watching the line I wanted, subtly shifting weight forward and back for maximum steerage and climbing traction.
Into the switchback to the right. See a nice line on the inside. Steeper but looks solid. That’s where I go. Through the curve, up the next ramp, and that’s it, the crux cleaned. Grade slacks off but only a bit and I stay in climbing mode, hands in the drops, butt floating over the front of the saddle, not pressing the pace, just enough to keep things moving while I enjoy the views and close on the highest point of the ride.
Over the high point of the ride with the road hemmed in by an electrified wire on each side for the cows. One thin wire with periodic flashes of electricity shooting through. Either the wire on the left is open up ahead or someone knocked it down because there are cows on the road. Soon as I close on them, they start trotting up the road the same direction I’m going. Naturally the cows who hadn’t entered into the road space yet see their pals trotting off so they panic and run for the road so now I’ve got a small herd of cows running and plugging up the road in front of me.
The front ranks get to this rather clever gate system they’ve got here. Two stiff plastic rods reach across the roadway towards one another effectively creating what appears to be more electric fencing to block cows from moving up the road. The rods are flexible and springy and a cyclist can ride right through. The cows see the gate, bunch up, then one of them shoves on through followed by most of the others. A bit later I’m saved. They all turn in towards a small barn and I accelerate past.
From here to Aravis is more downhill than uphill plus the ups are relatively easy so I’m feeling good. The track’s smooth enough that I’m on the big ring and a smaller cog and flying down the road into this wide, steep-sided basin. Slam on the brakes for a rough stream crossing then up and out the opposite of the basin and around yet one more ridge. The road’s even smoother through here and I should be hauling butt but I’m also now in the pedestrian zone. People park either on or near the Col des Aravis and walk out the road for an hour or two. Then turn around and walk back. This is late afternoon so they’re mostly walking back. And scattered across the roadway forming moving barriers. When they either hear my tires or my voice, most go into panic mode. First the deer in the headlamps look, then scattering out of the way with, of course, those on the right going left and those on the left going right. Makes for some interesting riding. But at least they don’t run up the road like the cows.
Around the final ridge and down to the Col des Aravis. Speed run. Ripping down the track, spitting rocks out left and right, the bike hopping around like a jack rabbit and I’m laughing and smiling like a mad man. I’d been wanting to ride the Grand Traverse all spring. Now I have. Even in fine style. As in no suffering, just smooth riding. Tired now though. Beat actually. Thankfully the return is mostly all downhill, the first part fast and fun down to Flumet, the second part a sustained spinner down the Gorge d’Arly. Where of course there’ll be a headwind. Oh well.
Awesome ride, a have-to for anyone who likes fat-tired road bikes on dirt roads. Some 15 K across alpine meadows with a constant and spectacular panorama of mountains, all nicely hidden by clouds the entire day. But with the sun blazing out at times at the end. The best of the best of the best on my list of stunning alpine rides. Almost 60 K with 1875 vertical (6152 ft). And in ten days I’ll show this puppy to my son and three of his friends, everybody on fat tired road bikes, his friends’ bikes rented from a cool new shop in Talloires, baseCamp, owned by someone who loves riding on dirt roads with a fat-tired road bike.
Some pics plus a link to a video of the ride based on the data collected by the Garmin and transferred to Strava. Basically a 3-D visualization looking down from space at the ride.
http://www.relive.cc/view/1021223374
Weather a bit sketchy with clouds sagging down over the mountains after a night of rain. Parked near Ugine, rolled off on the bike path. 30 meters later turned around, back to the car, changed from shorts to the tights. Medium thick ones. Too hot in the valley for tights but conditions high would change. Back on the bike path. Goes all the way to Annecy, most of the time not even near a road. Did it for a few K then turned right, crossed the highway, headed up.
A climb that instantly leaps to mind anytime I start thinking about best climbs. To be inevitably superseded by the climb to the Colle delle Finestre in Italy. The italian has 1711 vertical (5614 ft), half again the vertical on Arpettaz, and averages over 9% for the distance against 8% for Arpettaz! The italian’s last 8 K are also dirt! Finestre stands alone but, that said, Arpettaz is as beautiful a climb as I’ve ever done.
A generous one-laner damn, pavement rustic and knobbly with lots of patches, no guardrails, surface jumping around. No painted lines either, instant sign of a road for riding. Lower third out in the open and can bake under the sun. Then lost in a forest until approaching the col. Looked like the top half would be lost in fog.
Headed up and was blasted by greens, intense greens, shades of greens, like everything was supercharged with green. The kinds of greens you usually need cool sunglasses to see, or some psychedelics. The place is saturated in greens. Had a suspicion that with the low clouds some good shots might be possible.
Up through the fields was toast city but I like heat. Slipped into the forest, the air cooled. Road wandering back and forth up the mountain like some sort of goat track on a mission. Got to the section of stretched out stackbacks. They’re invisible with leaves out but in the winter there’s one place where I’ve stopped and looked down and saw the road six times. This is in what I call the enchanted forest. Mountainside’s steep, the trees tall, deciduous, the branches high up the trunks so there’s this wonderful vision down through the forest with the ground buried in leaves and mulch and round boulders covered with moss. The light was muted and soft with wisps of fog for a magical effect.
Well up into the second half I suddenly realized my riding was strong without pushing, a delightful sensation of smooth and fast. For me of course. All things are relative but still, couldn’t help but think from time to time that for someone in his 73rd year I was going well.
Left the trees, rolled into the final sweeping curves across fields swept clean by avalanches off the heights. By then I was scraping the bottom layer of fog and visibility was weak. Didn’t see the col arriving until I was a couple hundred meters away.
I’d been hearing some strange, periodic noise during the last bit of the climb with no idea what in the hell was causing it. The source was just past the col. Somebody or some organization had set up a shooting range a hundred meters down why I’d done all that climbing, the dirt road, what I call the Grand Traverse, linking across the mountains to the Col des Aravis. A huge crowd was blasting away with various guns. Some big ass caliber guns too judging by some of the sounds. Must have been well over 50 cars parked along the track. Horrible racket!
I swept off the col and down the rocky track, weaving around people wandering in the roadway. They’d get this deer in the headlamps look when they’d see me coming then at the last moment scatter. Invariably those on the right would dart left and the those on the left would dart right!
The track was in pretty good shape because of rains and enough traffic to pack the stones and gravel so I was hauling, pushed by that horrible banging going on behind me. Wanted to get up the long hill to the high point of the traverse where hopefully I’d be able to once again enjoy the tranquility of where I was.
Hard climb on steeper grades and a surface that at times was downright gnarly with small rocks pretending they were gravel. A mountain biker with big tires and suspension would have barely noticed the condition. My 35mm Bon Jon tires did a hell of a job anyway. Surprisingly smooth with, excellent traction despite the lack of knobs.
Looked up and saw what I consider the crux of the entire Grand Traverse, at least in the Arpettaz to Aravis direction. Up through two switchbacks where the road is always, in my experience, rocky and loose. Plus steep. Lots of the loose rocks are fist-sized. Came into the switchback to the left slow, scanning for the best line. There it was on the outside. Hunkered down over the nose of the saddle, hands in the drops, plunged into the zone, watching the line I wanted, subtly shifting weight forward and back for maximum steerage and climbing traction.
Into the switchback to the right. See a nice line on the inside. Steeper but looks solid. That’s where I go. Through the curve, up the next ramp, and that’s it, the crux cleaned. Grade slacks off but only a bit and I stay in climbing mode, hands in the drops, butt floating over the front of the saddle, not pressing the pace, just enough to keep things moving while I enjoy the views and close on the highest point of the ride.
Over the high point of the ride with the road hemmed in by an electrified wire on each side for the cows. One thin wire with periodic flashes of electricity shooting through. Either the wire on the left is open up ahead or someone knocked it down because there are cows on the road. Soon as I close on them, they start trotting up the road the same direction I’m going. Naturally the cows who hadn’t entered into the road space yet see their pals trotting off so they panic and run for the road so now I’ve got a small herd of cows running and plugging up the road in front of me.
The front ranks get to this rather clever gate system they’ve got here. Two stiff plastic rods reach across the roadway towards one another effectively creating what appears to be more electric fencing to block cows from moving up the road. The rods are flexible and springy and a cyclist can ride right through. The cows see the gate, bunch up, then one of them shoves on through followed by most of the others. A bit later I’m saved. They all turn in towards a small barn and I accelerate past.
From here to Aravis is more downhill than uphill plus the ups are relatively easy so I’m feeling good. The track’s smooth enough that I’m on the big ring and a smaller cog and flying down the road into this wide, steep-sided basin. Slam on the brakes for a rough stream crossing then up and out the opposite of the basin and around yet one more ridge. The road’s even smoother through here and I should be hauling butt but I’m also now in the pedestrian zone. People park either on or near the Col des Aravis and walk out the road for an hour or two. Then turn around and walk back. This is late afternoon so they’re mostly walking back. And scattered across the roadway forming moving barriers. When they either hear my tires or my voice, most go into panic mode. First the deer in the headlamps look, then scattering out of the way with, of course, those on the right going left and those on the left going right. Makes for some interesting riding. But at least they don’t run up the road like the cows.
Around the final ridge and down to the Col des Aravis. Speed run. Ripping down the track, spitting rocks out left and right, the bike hopping around like a jack rabbit and I’m laughing and smiling like a mad man. I’d been wanting to ride the Grand Traverse all spring. Now I have. Even in fine style. As in no suffering, just smooth riding. Tired now though. Beat actually. Thankfully the return is mostly all downhill, the first part fast and fun down to Flumet, the second part a sustained spinner down the Gorge d’Arly. Where of course there’ll be a headwind. Oh well.
Awesome ride, a have-to for anyone who likes fat-tired road bikes on dirt roads. Some 15 K across alpine meadows with a constant and spectacular panorama of mountains, all nicely hidden by clouds the entire day. But with the sun blazing out at times at the end. The best of the best of the best on my list of stunning alpine rides. Almost 60 K with 1875 vertical (6152 ft). And in ten days I’ll show this puppy to my son and three of his friends, everybody on fat tired road bikes, his friends’ bikes rented from a cool new shop in Talloires, baseCamp, owned by someone who loves riding on dirt roads with a fat-tired road bike.
Some pics plus a link to a video of the ride based on the data collected by the Garmin and transferred to Strava. Basically a 3-D visualization looking down from space at the ride.
http://www.relive.cc/view/1021223374