velotel
10-09-2018, 02:34 AM
Day 2 didn’t start off like I imagined. Didn’t finish that way either. None of which mattered. Like I told Lee and Mike, this isn’t your normal bike tour. I mean first off the damn guide, me, was 73 friggin years old, way too old to be guiding some road bike tour through the Alps. All they had to do was look at the buy by date stamped on my forehead to see that was passed long ago. On the other hand they’d been warned, several times. I told them I was old and slow and they’d probably be faster than me and end up having to wait! They came anyway.
Secondly this wasn’t about riding from point A to point B to point C, etc, following some printed out schedule of times and places and precise route directions with all the info and more anybody could possibly want instantly at hand. We were peak bagging, or at least the equivalent with cols replacing peaks. As in drive here, stay a couple of nights, go ride this and this or maybe ride this instead. Flexibility, with options.
Like day 2 when they slept late and got up lazy. I was fine with that. I mean they’d just flown in from the states the day before, had immediately done a good and moderately hard ride, and were still staggering around in another time zone. So of course they slept late; it wasn’t late in their zone.
The original plan had been pile in the van and drive up into the Haute Maurienne Valley (haute as in high) and do this cool ride hardly anyone knows above the village of Termignon. Then back in the van for the drive to Oulx in Italy where we were booked into a hotel for 2 nights. Given that it was I think after 11 in the morning, or damn near at any rate, by the time breakfast had been eaten, the van loaded, and on the road, I said maybe we ought to do something different. Like drive onto the Col du Mont Cenis and ride this awesome little road I know up there out to the Col du Petit Mont Cenis, a col that I could just about guarantee none of their riding fraternity had ever heard of. Maybe have lunch at this little restaurant I know overlooking the lake. Sounded good to them.
The drive from Talloires into the Haute Maurienne Valley was stunning. By the time we rolled onto the Col du Mont Cenis we needed some sort of brain sunglasses the light was so exuberant. Parked near the restaurant, which was packed to the gills, changed into riding gear, rolled off back towards the Col du Mont Cenis to the junction with the one-laner heading out to Petit Mont Cenis. By which point I was thoroughly convinced the hotel in Talloires had generously spiced our morning coffee with acid. I mean the light wasn’t just brilliant, it was friggin electric, burning with some intense internal energy that invaded out heads and rapped out this gorgeous beat that even the mountains were swaying to. It was crazy, beautiful, intense, a hard-edged incandescence draped over the slopes.
And it wasn’t just me seeing/feeling all this. Lee and Mike were equally dazzled. In fact Lee was so far gone in the magic he decided to ride without his helmet. Which worried me. I didn’t want people thinking I was a bad influence on this helmet thing. Actually he looked way better on the bike without the plastic lid.
The three of us were floating on these waves of light and spinning the bikes up this wonderful one-laner of a road into some sort of magical landscape of reds and yellows and sere prairies, an alpine autumn palette brushed over the slopes. Overhead a vast bowl of deep blue. Meanwhile there was this road that was damn near as hallucinogenic as the landscape. I’d only ridden it once but that one time had seared it into my memory and my memory of it was as true as the sky overhead was blue. Or almost. I’d kind of forgotten there was quite so much climbing to do and that some of the grades were tantalizingly close to double-digits. They’d also buffed-up the asphalt rather nicely during the two years since I’d been there. Wasn’t far out to the Petit Mont Cenis but getting there took awhile what with all the photo stops. Which was maybe a bit nuts considering I already had a passel of photos from my first ride and that was a gorgeous day too. Couldn’t help myself. Mike and Lee couldn’t either.
A one-laner, draped over the terrain, never straight, curl after curl, impossible to see where the heck it was going, the up ahead always hidden behind a roll or small hill. Came over the last climb onto a expansive prairie with an classic view right in front of us, a car parked along the road, an older couple seated in chairs next to it soaking up the sun. Had to shoot that, no choice. I see that a lot in France, couples or families out driving the countryside stop along the road, pull out their chairs, small table, cooler with their lunch, a bottle of wine, loaf of bread, ham, cheese.
The col was another K of easy spinning ahead, also the end of the asphalt and a small challenge for Mike and Lee. I told them the next section was kind of like a job interview, something to check their dirt skills, 2 K of rough jeep road. Figured if they could ride it with a modicum of style and power, the days to come would pose zero problems and if they rode really well I might propose another change in the program and do what may be the finest climb I’ve ever done, the double-track to Colle Blegier in Italy. They laughed and said let’s do it.
Both of them rode superbly, even cleaned a couple of steep, rocky, technically demanding ramps that I half-expected at least one of them to walk up. They flat charged up them like they’d been doing this every day, which I knew wasn’t even close to reality. They were loving it. Might even have cracked the skin on their faces they were smiling so much. I was like far out, we’re in, I can definitely take these guys some cool places.
The track eventually turns into a single-track to Lac de Savine then on to Col Clapier. I’ve only checked out part of it but looks ridable with I’m sure lots of places where a full-on mountain bike would be vastly more effective. Then again my fat-tired road bike is way easier to carry. Someday.
We stopped at the top of a knoll with a picnic table on top of a huge, round hump of granite with a spectacular view down the valley we were high above, in the distance the Aussois ski station above the Maurienne Valley. Planting that table on top of the rock was brilliant. Classic french thing actually.
Headed back, a different test this time, going down on dirt and rock. Good fun, the two of them considerably more cautious than going up so I blew by them in a swirl of energy. Back to the start of the blacktop where there’s a small refuge that serves lunch. And still serving. Picnic tables outside, a small room with tables inside. Walk inside to order through a small window. On the other side an old guy taking the orders, behind him his wife fixing the food. Apparently the farmers who own the place. They’re in their kitchen, as in the kitchen where they live. Looks like they added on the lunch room to the house in order to take advantage of their location and start selling lunch to hikers and such. Great idea.
We sit down outside and Mike and Lee are staring at one another with this look of is any of this real. I mean there we were on this col in the middle of nowhere and there’s a restaurant where we can eat and drink beers! They were amazed. I hadn’t really thought about it because for me it’s perfectly normal but looked at from their perspectives, was kind of wild I suppose. Didn’t cost much either.
On the bikes, and once again I’m quivering in anticipation of the ride back. I clearly remembered it was one ridiculously fast and fun descent only since then they’d gone and buffed up the roadway. As in this was going to be a ripper. Mike was thinking along the same lines. Lee was leaning more towards the you-guys-go-ahead-and-I’ll-get-there mode.
My memory was correct; it was a ripper of a ride. And that was with the fingers constantly brushing the pads against the rims because of all the blind turns and ever present possibility of a car taking up the roadway. Which happened a couple of times. Judging by the drivers’ panic swerves to the edge of the road I think my sudden appearance flying down towards them scared the heck out of them. Not that I had time to notice their expressions. Too focused on jamming the line between the car and the edge of the road. Passed a couple of cars too, which wasn’t too difficult since the moment the driver saw me charging down on them and setting up to fly by they instantly slowed and pulled over as much as they could. One of the aspects of riding in France I always appreciate.
Then it was over, way too soon. Dropped back into my climbing gear for the slog back up to the main road, glanced back to see how far back Mike was, came around a turn overlooking the lake and had to stop one more time, the view way too delicious to pass up. Then back to the van, change clothes, load up, head off into Italy and our hotel in Oulx.
The Col du Petit Mont Cenis, a small ride, 21 K (13 miles) in all, maybe 500 vertical (1640 ft), not much in numbers. But in impact! In a word, stunning. One of the most magnificent rides I’ve ever done. Setting us up rather nicely for the real start of the tour the next day, the big climb, Colle della Finestre, over 1700 vertical meters of sustained climbing, average grade over 9%. Should be interesting. The transition was over, some serious riding tomorrow. Well, maybe not that serious, might have some fun too.
Secondly this wasn’t about riding from point A to point B to point C, etc, following some printed out schedule of times and places and precise route directions with all the info and more anybody could possibly want instantly at hand. We were peak bagging, or at least the equivalent with cols replacing peaks. As in drive here, stay a couple of nights, go ride this and this or maybe ride this instead. Flexibility, with options.
Like day 2 when they slept late and got up lazy. I was fine with that. I mean they’d just flown in from the states the day before, had immediately done a good and moderately hard ride, and were still staggering around in another time zone. So of course they slept late; it wasn’t late in their zone.
The original plan had been pile in the van and drive up into the Haute Maurienne Valley (haute as in high) and do this cool ride hardly anyone knows above the village of Termignon. Then back in the van for the drive to Oulx in Italy where we were booked into a hotel for 2 nights. Given that it was I think after 11 in the morning, or damn near at any rate, by the time breakfast had been eaten, the van loaded, and on the road, I said maybe we ought to do something different. Like drive onto the Col du Mont Cenis and ride this awesome little road I know up there out to the Col du Petit Mont Cenis, a col that I could just about guarantee none of their riding fraternity had ever heard of. Maybe have lunch at this little restaurant I know overlooking the lake. Sounded good to them.
The drive from Talloires into the Haute Maurienne Valley was stunning. By the time we rolled onto the Col du Mont Cenis we needed some sort of brain sunglasses the light was so exuberant. Parked near the restaurant, which was packed to the gills, changed into riding gear, rolled off back towards the Col du Mont Cenis to the junction with the one-laner heading out to Petit Mont Cenis. By which point I was thoroughly convinced the hotel in Talloires had generously spiced our morning coffee with acid. I mean the light wasn’t just brilliant, it was friggin electric, burning with some intense internal energy that invaded out heads and rapped out this gorgeous beat that even the mountains were swaying to. It was crazy, beautiful, intense, a hard-edged incandescence draped over the slopes.
And it wasn’t just me seeing/feeling all this. Lee and Mike were equally dazzled. In fact Lee was so far gone in the magic he decided to ride without his helmet. Which worried me. I didn’t want people thinking I was a bad influence on this helmet thing. Actually he looked way better on the bike without the plastic lid.
The three of us were floating on these waves of light and spinning the bikes up this wonderful one-laner of a road into some sort of magical landscape of reds and yellows and sere prairies, an alpine autumn palette brushed over the slopes. Overhead a vast bowl of deep blue. Meanwhile there was this road that was damn near as hallucinogenic as the landscape. I’d only ridden it once but that one time had seared it into my memory and my memory of it was as true as the sky overhead was blue. Or almost. I’d kind of forgotten there was quite so much climbing to do and that some of the grades were tantalizingly close to double-digits. They’d also buffed-up the asphalt rather nicely during the two years since I’d been there. Wasn’t far out to the Petit Mont Cenis but getting there took awhile what with all the photo stops. Which was maybe a bit nuts considering I already had a passel of photos from my first ride and that was a gorgeous day too. Couldn’t help myself. Mike and Lee couldn’t either.
A one-laner, draped over the terrain, never straight, curl after curl, impossible to see where the heck it was going, the up ahead always hidden behind a roll or small hill. Came over the last climb onto a expansive prairie with an classic view right in front of us, a car parked along the road, an older couple seated in chairs next to it soaking up the sun. Had to shoot that, no choice. I see that a lot in France, couples or families out driving the countryside stop along the road, pull out their chairs, small table, cooler with their lunch, a bottle of wine, loaf of bread, ham, cheese.
The col was another K of easy spinning ahead, also the end of the asphalt and a small challenge for Mike and Lee. I told them the next section was kind of like a job interview, something to check their dirt skills, 2 K of rough jeep road. Figured if they could ride it with a modicum of style and power, the days to come would pose zero problems and if they rode really well I might propose another change in the program and do what may be the finest climb I’ve ever done, the double-track to Colle Blegier in Italy. They laughed and said let’s do it.
Both of them rode superbly, even cleaned a couple of steep, rocky, technically demanding ramps that I half-expected at least one of them to walk up. They flat charged up them like they’d been doing this every day, which I knew wasn’t even close to reality. They were loving it. Might even have cracked the skin on their faces they were smiling so much. I was like far out, we’re in, I can definitely take these guys some cool places.
The track eventually turns into a single-track to Lac de Savine then on to Col Clapier. I’ve only checked out part of it but looks ridable with I’m sure lots of places where a full-on mountain bike would be vastly more effective. Then again my fat-tired road bike is way easier to carry. Someday.
We stopped at the top of a knoll with a picnic table on top of a huge, round hump of granite with a spectacular view down the valley we were high above, in the distance the Aussois ski station above the Maurienne Valley. Planting that table on top of the rock was brilliant. Classic french thing actually.
Headed back, a different test this time, going down on dirt and rock. Good fun, the two of them considerably more cautious than going up so I blew by them in a swirl of energy. Back to the start of the blacktop where there’s a small refuge that serves lunch. And still serving. Picnic tables outside, a small room with tables inside. Walk inside to order through a small window. On the other side an old guy taking the orders, behind him his wife fixing the food. Apparently the farmers who own the place. They’re in their kitchen, as in the kitchen where they live. Looks like they added on the lunch room to the house in order to take advantage of their location and start selling lunch to hikers and such. Great idea.
We sit down outside and Mike and Lee are staring at one another with this look of is any of this real. I mean there we were on this col in the middle of nowhere and there’s a restaurant where we can eat and drink beers! They were amazed. I hadn’t really thought about it because for me it’s perfectly normal but looked at from their perspectives, was kind of wild I suppose. Didn’t cost much either.
On the bikes, and once again I’m quivering in anticipation of the ride back. I clearly remembered it was one ridiculously fast and fun descent only since then they’d gone and buffed up the roadway. As in this was going to be a ripper. Mike was thinking along the same lines. Lee was leaning more towards the you-guys-go-ahead-and-I’ll-get-there mode.
My memory was correct; it was a ripper of a ride. And that was with the fingers constantly brushing the pads against the rims because of all the blind turns and ever present possibility of a car taking up the roadway. Which happened a couple of times. Judging by the drivers’ panic swerves to the edge of the road I think my sudden appearance flying down towards them scared the heck out of them. Not that I had time to notice their expressions. Too focused on jamming the line between the car and the edge of the road. Passed a couple of cars too, which wasn’t too difficult since the moment the driver saw me charging down on them and setting up to fly by they instantly slowed and pulled over as much as they could. One of the aspects of riding in France I always appreciate.
Then it was over, way too soon. Dropped back into my climbing gear for the slog back up to the main road, glanced back to see how far back Mike was, came around a turn overlooking the lake and had to stop one more time, the view way too delicious to pass up. Then back to the van, change clothes, load up, head off into Italy and our hotel in Oulx.
The Col du Petit Mont Cenis, a small ride, 21 K (13 miles) in all, maybe 500 vertical (1640 ft), not much in numbers. But in impact! In a word, stunning. One of the most magnificent rides I’ve ever done. Setting us up rather nicely for the real start of the tour the next day, the big climb, Colle della Finestre, over 1700 vertical meters of sustained climbing, average grade over 9%. Should be interesting. The transition was over, some serious riding tomorrow. Well, maybe not that serious, might have some fun too.