velotel
09-10-2018, 02:36 AM
The Ugine-Annecy bike path, a bike autostrada slicing through fields and forests, far from the stream of rushing metal, made for power runs on bikes, and I’m dawdling, spinning an easy gear, wondering if I can do the climb to the Col de la Forclaz. Friggin thing is steep, or so I’ve read, Ks at 10, 10,5, 11%, plus some ramps at 15-16%. But at least only 655 vertical (2148 ft.
Hit the road to the col, flat and innocent, heading into a hamlet at the base of a mountain. A T-intersection with bright flowers in planters in front of carefully stacked firewood waiting for the winter. Turn left, into the climb, instant steepness. Okay, lowest gear, settle in, ride soft, let the rhythm come, see what happens, watch the valley to the left slowly drop below. Couple hundred meters up the road there’s a sign showing 11% for the next K. Which meant it had been 11% from the valley floor because sure as hell the grade didn’t change. I smile. No question about the road being steep and no way I can say I’m killing it but I feel it, I know I’ve got it. Slowly but no question, the col was mine.
Sustained steepness on a two-laner winding up through a narrow valley thick with trees somehow managing to grow on slopes so steep I wouldn’t want to hike up them. Below to the right a narrow gorge with a stream that I never saw because of all the trees on the slopes. Lot of traffic, a Sunday and the col’s above Lake Annecy, France’s Côte d’Azur of the mountains. Place is packed in the summer, traffic jams around the lake pretty much standard. In truth there weren’t all that many cars, I mean in an hour I met and was passed by, what, 20, 25 cars, maybe 30. For me a lot given my normal haunts.
Got to a sign showing 7% for the next K. This was after steady 10% grades and absolutely nothing changed, the road as steep as before. And stayed like that. Which meant there had to be something flat or even downhill up ahead to generate that 7% grade. There was, a limp noodle section, short but refreshing.
Road curled across the valley into a switchback to the left and I’m out of the forest looking up across alpine meadows at rock cliffs materializing out of a bank of clouds swirling over the heights. And a road curling back and forth across the slope. Get to another sign, 10% for the next K. The third or fourth sign I’ve passed with double-digit grades. But have to say it wasn’t nearly as hard as the numbers read. Not that I was crushing the hill by but it wasn’t crushing me either.
A lazy switchback to the left, steep traverse, road swings right straight into the fall line, then right again into an elegant and crazy steep curve to the right. Had to have topped out at minimum 15%, maybe more. We’re talking a ridiculously steep curl up the mountain that should have elicited a major protest from my legs, but didn’t.
Instead I jumped into the arc, out of the saddle, hands in the drops, my body settling, collecting itself, a wave of power flowing into my legs, arms working the bar, eyes locked on the line, the pitch constantly upping the ante, and I’m loving it. Really must have some mental problem.
Hard to explain but for me that climbing curl totally shifted my perspective of the climb. Usually we’re just climbing up two-dimensional ramps, forward and up, but here there was this wonderful lateral movement tossed into the game. This’ll sound nuts probably but somehow it was like that curling, steep pitch accelerated me up the road and I came off the ramp going faster than I’d been going before the arc. Made me laugh like some fool on drugs.
Naturally that speed rush was only momentary and I was right back into your basic workman’s climbing pace. But exhilarated. Like I’d passed the crux with colors snapping boldly in the wind and from there up was a piece of cake, the proverbial two fingers in the nose to the top.
Into a long, almost straight section heading into a village under a rapidly expanding blue sky. In the distance to the left I could see what I was pretty sure was the col. Kind of puzzled me because the col didn’t look much higher than where I was except that according to the profile I’d seen on the net the finish was steep and pretty long. Stopped to shoot and a rider charged by. On a mission for the summit.
Through the village and the road starts going downhill. Wasn’t expecting this. Must not have paid much attention to the profile I’d looked at. Down and across a stream and up again, the final push. Somewhere around here I saw a sign that announced 11,5% for the final K and a half, or I think it was a K and a half. The 11,5% I definitely remember! Just before the village I’d been passed by a guy who was now lingering out there in front of me. He was faster but only by a bit, pulling away in mini increments. Have to admit seeing that made me feel good. And somewhat crazily the finish didn’t feel all that hard. I’d been expecting some desperate effort to get up it but instead there I was spinning a decent cadence, feeling good, looking around, enjoying the view.
The col was actually a bit of an anticlimax. Which was more me than the col. I’m too used to cols accessed via barely civilized roads and hardly any people or cars and maybe with a refuge with a deck where a beer can be enjoyed in peace and quiet.
This col was crowded, cars parked all over the place, people hiking, picnicking, pointing phones at one another and up at the cloud of paragliders floating overhead and down at Lake Annecy, which was really the main attraction. Pretty amazing view, not far off being in a plane, or one of the paragliders. There’s a restaurant perched on the rock cliff with a large terrace overlooking the lake. If the food’s half as good as the view, the place has to be exceptional. Tables looked full enough. At night with a clear sky, could be amazing.
The two riders who had passed me were standing by the low wall above the cliff taking pictures, One started to take a selfie of them so I asked, in french, if they’d like me to take it for them. The answer came back in fluent english with a german accent. And with that the ice was broken and we started talking bikes and riding. Nice guys, on holiday from Germany. One of ‘em said something about age slowing him down and I laughed. Turned out they were both 51. Got a kick out of watching their eyes pop open when I told ‘em I was 73 in answer to their question. They also spent a bit of time checking out my Eriksen; they knew of him but had never seen one of Kent’s bikes in real life. One of ‘em shot me. A rarity, I almost never come back with shots of me.
Okay, enough bike chit chat, time to ride. The whole way up I kept thinking that road would make for an insane wild mouse ride descent and was seriously tempted to just turn around and do it. But I also had dropping down and looping through Talloires pretty well planted in my head so on the assumption that the other side would be as interesting as the side I climbed, I dropped in on the north side. Straight into massive disappointment.
Basically the north side is boring, the road entirely too straight and wide. It didn’t even feel particularly steep where the grades are supposed to be 11% for a couple of K. I always say if you want to know if something’s steep, ride down it, gravity never lies. The north side didn’t feel steep. As a climb could be a bit boring given the lack of curls and switchbacks but the views are excellent.
Rolled into Talloires and decided to stop at the baseCamp (their spelling) bike shop for a beer, see how it had evolved over the year plus since I’d last seen it. Not much actually, other than being nicely finished. Kind of an odd bike shop, seemingly more coffee shop and beer bar with tables under sun umbrellas outside in the plaza. And lots of rental bikes, high quality bikes including lots of Open groader bikes. Might be the best source for groader rentals in France in fact. Not a shop for ogling cool bikes and gear but if you want a good beer or coffee and maybe something to eat with them, place is right on. Kind of like a Rapha shop but without the Rapha aura.
Quick burn down the hill out of Talloires and onto a very cool bike path along the lake. And I mean right along the lake, like in places if you crashed and took a flyer you could end up in the water. Or damn near. Ends after awhile and spits you out onto a narrow two-laner where cars are already squeezed without any cyclists on the road. Makes for a tight comfort zone.
Then back onto the autostrada bike path between Ugine and Annecy, the speed run back to the car. Nice finish to a good loop. But to be honest I really kind of wished I’d turned around on the col and blitzed the road I climbed. I’ve got this feeling that is one hugely entertaining adrenalin flow. Another day.
Hit the road to the col, flat and innocent, heading into a hamlet at the base of a mountain. A T-intersection with bright flowers in planters in front of carefully stacked firewood waiting for the winter. Turn left, into the climb, instant steepness. Okay, lowest gear, settle in, ride soft, let the rhythm come, see what happens, watch the valley to the left slowly drop below. Couple hundred meters up the road there’s a sign showing 11% for the next K. Which meant it had been 11% from the valley floor because sure as hell the grade didn’t change. I smile. No question about the road being steep and no way I can say I’m killing it but I feel it, I know I’ve got it. Slowly but no question, the col was mine.
Sustained steepness on a two-laner winding up through a narrow valley thick with trees somehow managing to grow on slopes so steep I wouldn’t want to hike up them. Below to the right a narrow gorge with a stream that I never saw because of all the trees on the slopes. Lot of traffic, a Sunday and the col’s above Lake Annecy, France’s Côte d’Azur of the mountains. Place is packed in the summer, traffic jams around the lake pretty much standard. In truth there weren’t all that many cars, I mean in an hour I met and was passed by, what, 20, 25 cars, maybe 30. For me a lot given my normal haunts.
Got to a sign showing 7% for the next K. This was after steady 10% grades and absolutely nothing changed, the road as steep as before. And stayed like that. Which meant there had to be something flat or even downhill up ahead to generate that 7% grade. There was, a limp noodle section, short but refreshing.
Road curled across the valley into a switchback to the left and I’m out of the forest looking up across alpine meadows at rock cliffs materializing out of a bank of clouds swirling over the heights. And a road curling back and forth across the slope. Get to another sign, 10% for the next K. The third or fourth sign I’ve passed with double-digit grades. But have to say it wasn’t nearly as hard as the numbers read. Not that I was crushing the hill by but it wasn’t crushing me either.
A lazy switchback to the left, steep traverse, road swings right straight into the fall line, then right again into an elegant and crazy steep curve to the right. Had to have topped out at minimum 15%, maybe more. We’re talking a ridiculously steep curl up the mountain that should have elicited a major protest from my legs, but didn’t.
Instead I jumped into the arc, out of the saddle, hands in the drops, my body settling, collecting itself, a wave of power flowing into my legs, arms working the bar, eyes locked on the line, the pitch constantly upping the ante, and I’m loving it. Really must have some mental problem.
Hard to explain but for me that climbing curl totally shifted my perspective of the climb. Usually we’re just climbing up two-dimensional ramps, forward and up, but here there was this wonderful lateral movement tossed into the game. This’ll sound nuts probably but somehow it was like that curling, steep pitch accelerated me up the road and I came off the ramp going faster than I’d been going before the arc. Made me laugh like some fool on drugs.
Naturally that speed rush was only momentary and I was right back into your basic workman’s climbing pace. But exhilarated. Like I’d passed the crux with colors snapping boldly in the wind and from there up was a piece of cake, the proverbial two fingers in the nose to the top.
Into a long, almost straight section heading into a village under a rapidly expanding blue sky. In the distance to the left I could see what I was pretty sure was the col. Kind of puzzled me because the col didn’t look much higher than where I was except that according to the profile I’d seen on the net the finish was steep and pretty long. Stopped to shoot and a rider charged by. On a mission for the summit.
Through the village and the road starts going downhill. Wasn’t expecting this. Must not have paid much attention to the profile I’d looked at. Down and across a stream and up again, the final push. Somewhere around here I saw a sign that announced 11,5% for the final K and a half, or I think it was a K and a half. The 11,5% I definitely remember! Just before the village I’d been passed by a guy who was now lingering out there in front of me. He was faster but only by a bit, pulling away in mini increments. Have to admit seeing that made me feel good. And somewhat crazily the finish didn’t feel all that hard. I’d been expecting some desperate effort to get up it but instead there I was spinning a decent cadence, feeling good, looking around, enjoying the view.
The col was actually a bit of an anticlimax. Which was more me than the col. I’m too used to cols accessed via barely civilized roads and hardly any people or cars and maybe with a refuge with a deck where a beer can be enjoyed in peace and quiet.
This col was crowded, cars parked all over the place, people hiking, picnicking, pointing phones at one another and up at the cloud of paragliders floating overhead and down at Lake Annecy, which was really the main attraction. Pretty amazing view, not far off being in a plane, or one of the paragliders. There’s a restaurant perched on the rock cliff with a large terrace overlooking the lake. If the food’s half as good as the view, the place has to be exceptional. Tables looked full enough. At night with a clear sky, could be amazing.
The two riders who had passed me were standing by the low wall above the cliff taking pictures, One started to take a selfie of them so I asked, in french, if they’d like me to take it for them. The answer came back in fluent english with a german accent. And with that the ice was broken and we started talking bikes and riding. Nice guys, on holiday from Germany. One of ‘em said something about age slowing him down and I laughed. Turned out they were both 51. Got a kick out of watching their eyes pop open when I told ‘em I was 73 in answer to their question. They also spent a bit of time checking out my Eriksen; they knew of him but had never seen one of Kent’s bikes in real life. One of ‘em shot me. A rarity, I almost never come back with shots of me.
Okay, enough bike chit chat, time to ride. The whole way up I kept thinking that road would make for an insane wild mouse ride descent and was seriously tempted to just turn around and do it. But I also had dropping down and looping through Talloires pretty well planted in my head so on the assumption that the other side would be as interesting as the side I climbed, I dropped in on the north side. Straight into massive disappointment.
Basically the north side is boring, the road entirely too straight and wide. It didn’t even feel particularly steep where the grades are supposed to be 11% for a couple of K. I always say if you want to know if something’s steep, ride down it, gravity never lies. The north side didn’t feel steep. As a climb could be a bit boring given the lack of curls and switchbacks but the views are excellent.
Rolled into Talloires and decided to stop at the baseCamp (their spelling) bike shop for a beer, see how it had evolved over the year plus since I’d last seen it. Not much actually, other than being nicely finished. Kind of an odd bike shop, seemingly more coffee shop and beer bar with tables under sun umbrellas outside in the plaza. And lots of rental bikes, high quality bikes including lots of Open groader bikes. Might be the best source for groader rentals in France in fact. Not a shop for ogling cool bikes and gear but if you want a good beer or coffee and maybe something to eat with them, place is right on. Kind of like a Rapha shop but without the Rapha aura.
Quick burn down the hill out of Talloires and onto a very cool bike path along the lake. And I mean right along the lake, like in places if you crashed and took a flyer you could end up in the water. Or damn near. Ends after awhile and spits you out onto a narrow two-laner where cars are already squeezed without any cyclists on the road. Makes for a tight comfort zone.
Then back onto the autostrada bike path between Ugine and Annecy, the speed run back to the car. Nice finish to a good loop. But to be honest I really kind of wished I’d turned around on the col and blitzed the road I climbed. I’ve got this feeling that is one hugely entertaining adrenalin flow. Another day.