velotel
06-22-2019, 05:47 AM
Discovered it was Father’s Day when my son called. Earlier it was just another day in the Alps, a day to do something bigger, higher, harder. Like the dirt road that launched me into the world of fat road tires on dirt, the track linking Col de Chaussy and Col de la Madeleine. Or rather linking the roads to the cols. Decided to go by the direct approach from la Chambre, a climb I like a lot and one that’s not too well known.
Start’s a little boring, the road to the Madeleine, a regular, full-width two-laner complete with bike-lane shoulder. Things turn interesting 5 K out of la Chambre, the road to Montaimont and Bonvillard. A squeeze of a two-laner, first 2 K at 10%, with ramps in the low teens. Balanced with sections under 10% but it’s the walls the legs remember. Good climb on a hot day, like Sunday, lots of shade from the forest. And no traffic. Crossed maybe five cars in two hours of climbing. Passed by one cyclist. In another life I would have picked up the pace to make him work to get by me. Now I just say hello and watch him roll up the road. I like the new perspective.
The 2-K climb ends at a small chapel and the start of a K of easy rolling, even big-ring rolling if I was in a hurry, which I wasn’t. Road angles across a broad basin of meadows and forests with Col de Chaussy somewhere above to the right and the High Traverse high above to the left, an unseen gorge carved down through the middle of the basin. Montaimont is part way up through the basin, a small village with a small hotel/restaurant and big views. The village is where more ramps start appearing, including a brutal left-right switchback combo past the cemetery. Thankfully followed by a short flat.
Bonvillard, last hamlet before Col de Chaussy, 4 K and a couple hundred vertical meters from the col. Also the start of the road to the Madeleine, 13 K away and 650 meters higher. This is the road that kicked me into the rocks and dirt. I was worried first time I rode it. Thought it was dirt from Bonvillard to the Madeleine road and wasn’t sure I’d be able to ride it. That was well before my Eriksen StonerBike arrived so I was on my road Eriksen wearing 700x25 Vittoria Pavés with a 34/27 climbing gear. Turned onto the road just hoping I could ride it. Et voilà the road turned out to be paved for 3 K. And not just paved but totally buff! The blacktop saved me because I don’t think I could have gotten up the first K otherwise, average grade over 10%. A 34/27 on loose dirt would have killed me.
But paved, a sweetheart of a road. One-laner curving up through a mix of deciduous trees and meadows of flowers. Definitely hard, even with a 30/32 for my climbing gear! Not sure I could even ride it now with a 34/27. Must be getting old.
Slide out of the light forest into a sweep of meadows and the grades slack off. Into cruise mode following a wandering, curving line between a huge, tilted plateau and a steep mountain. Over a small rise to a gem of a lake, or large pond, cupped in a soft hollow of grasses and scattered trees, the last forest of the ride until the descent from the Madeleine. A small series of elongated stackbacks above the lake takes me up onto another plateau of grasses and views.
The road goes limp, shift down the cogs, a strong rider could be on the big ring. I’m spinning easily, saving energy, savoring where I am, on this silly little road on a rolling plateau of grasses and grazing cows, in the distance jagged peaks white with snow and Col du Glandon at the head of a narrow slice of a valley.
Around a low ridge and the asphalt peters out until it’s nothing but dirt and gravel. And still easy. Actually all the dirt is mostly easy. For sure a few steep ramps with loose gravel in the mix to add some challenge but they’re all quickies. Through a sharp swing to the left, another to the right, over a long roll and the world shifts, from fields of grasses to barren ski slopes and ski lifts and the scattered paraphernalia of a mega-industry. In the distance Col de la Madeleine. Some 7 K away but half the distance, lots of big ring rolling on packed dirt. Starts descending, surface rockier, pebbles pinging off bike tubes, chain slapping the stay, hands in the drops, caressing the speed, following the eyes, picking the good line.
A fast, final plunge and I shoot out onto the road to the Madeleine, wringing momentum for all I can, flinging the chain up the cogs, settling into a climbing gear. The col less than 3 K away. K posts announcing steeper grades than I particularly wanted. Spin it out, slow and easy, watching a scattered line of cyclists coming down, windbreakers flapping, most looking like they’re afraid to let go of their brakes.
The final straight onto the col, and into the head wind I knew was going to be there, cold air out of the north, but not as strong as I feared. Don’t stop on the col, swing left and up to the bar for a beer, eat the sandwich I’ve been hauling along, enjoy the light of a long summer evening, think about the descent to come. Glance at the time, 6:30 in the evening, some 1500 vertical meters (5000 ft) above the valley floor, an hour of driving back to the house, getting home by 8:00 could be tight.
Lots of great descents in the Alps. The one I’m about to do is as good as there is, one of the best of the best of the best. And hardly ridden. Maybe because the road is steep, twisty, and narrow, as in your basic maybe-lane-and-a-halfer, with lots of blind turns and big drops off the side. So many blind turns in fact that painting the front tire white might be a good idea. Maybe people don’t know it’s there. No signs pointing to it, you just have to know where it is and how to get to it. It’s the old road up the mountain, built long before the ski station. Didn’t go to the col, just into the basin below the col. A road crossing the col came later. At any rate it’s sort of a hidden road.
Last time I did it was with my son and three of his riding buddies from the states. Came up via the stackbacks, over Chaussy, across the High Traverse, up to the col where we pulled in for a beer stop, or maybe beers stop as I recall. The High Traverse their first time riding french dirt. They were impressed. Actually they were blown away so were celebrating the day with beers on the col thinking the day was a wrap. It wasn’t. I took them down the old road. They flipped, only my son had ever done a descent like that. Fast and edgy, gravity pulling hard, blind turns begging for speed, linked back and forths daring us to go faster, humps and ramps challenging perceptions of what speed was all about. An insane plunge off the mountain.
Nothing’s changed. Still all about ripping down the mountain, riding the edge, carving hard arcs, total concentration, dancing that zone between all out speed and leaving some margin for the unexpected. Or hopefully some margin, never sure on that. An intensity tunnel. And long, like really long. My hands and arms started feeling the strain, fingers semi-numb from the cold. Slicing across a cliff glanced to the left and saw the valley floor still way below. Met one car coming up right after a blind turn. The driver had honked so I knew someone would be there. Later caught two cars going down. Floated just off the back corner waiting for enough space to squeeze by or the drivers to notice I was there. Soon as they saw me each slowed and eased to the right. Squeezed by with a wave and disappeared down the mountain.
Took me hours to get to the Madeleine, hours of fine riding, hours of total enjoyment despite the effort, but this, the plunge, was the zone that when all is said and done is why I climb. And this particular plunge is an absolute have-to descent, if you’re into crazy gravity plunges that is.
Start’s a little boring, the road to the Madeleine, a regular, full-width two-laner complete with bike-lane shoulder. Things turn interesting 5 K out of la Chambre, the road to Montaimont and Bonvillard. A squeeze of a two-laner, first 2 K at 10%, with ramps in the low teens. Balanced with sections under 10% but it’s the walls the legs remember. Good climb on a hot day, like Sunday, lots of shade from the forest. And no traffic. Crossed maybe five cars in two hours of climbing. Passed by one cyclist. In another life I would have picked up the pace to make him work to get by me. Now I just say hello and watch him roll up the road. I like the new perspective.
The 2-K climb ends at a small chapel and the start of a K of easy rolling, even big-ring rolling if I was in a hurry, which I wasn’t. Road angles across a broad basin of meadows and forests with Col de Chaussy somewhere above to the right and the High Traverse high above to the left, an unseen gorge carved down through the middle of the basin. Montaimont is part way up through the basin, a small village with a small hotel/restaurant and big views. The village is where more ramps start appearing, including a brutal left-right switchback combo past the cemetery. Thankfully followed by a short flat.
Bonvillard, last hamlet before Col de Chaussy, 4 K and a couple hundred vertical meters from the col. Also the start of the road to the Madeleine, 13 K away and 650 meters higher. This is the road that kicked me into the rocks and dirt. I was worried first time I rode it. Thought it was dirt from Bonvillard to the Madeleine road and wasn’t sure I’d be able to ride it. That was well before my Eriksen StonerBike arrived so I was on my road Eriksen wearing 700x25 Vittoria Pavés with a 34/27 climbing gear. Turned onto the road just hoping I could ride it. Et voilà the road turned out to be paved for 3 K. And not just paved but totally buff! The blacktop saved me because I don’t think I could have gotten up the first K otherwise, average grade over 10%. A 34/27 on loose dirt would have killed me.
But paved, a sweetheart of a road. One-laner curving up through a mix of deciduous trees and meadows of flowers. Definitely hard, even with a 30/32 for my climbing gear! Not sure I could even ride it now with a 34/27. Must be getting old.
Slide out of the light forest into a sweep of meadows and the grades slack off. Into cruise mode following a wandering, curving line between a huge, tilted plateau and a steep mountain. Over a small rise to a gem of a lake, or large pond, cupped in a soft hollow of grasses and scattered trees, the last forest of the ride until the descent from the Madeleine. A small series of elongated stackbacks above the lake takes me up onto another plateau of grasses and views.
The road goes limp, shift down the cogs, a strong rider could be on the big ring. I’m spinning easily, saving energy, savoring where I am, on this silly little road on a rolling plateau of grasses and grazing cows, in the distance jagged peaks white with snow and Col du Glandon at the head of a narrow slice of a valley.
Around a low ridge and the asphalt peters out until it’s nothing but dirt and gravel. And still easy. Actually all the dirt is mostly easy. For sure a few steep ramps with loose gravel in the mix to add some challenge but they’re all quickies. Through a sharp swing to the left, another to the right, over a long roll and the world shifts, from fields of grasses to barren ski slopes and ski lifts and the scattered paraphernalia of a mega-industry. In the distance Col de la Madeleine. Some 7 K away but half the distance, lots of big ring rolling on packed dirt. Starts descending, surface rockier, pebbles pinging off bike tubes, chain slapping the stay, hands in the drops, caressing the speed, following the eyes, picking the good line.
A fast, final plunge and I shoot out onto the road to the Madeleine, wringing momentum for all I can, flinging the chain up the cogs, settling into a climbing gear. The col less than 3 K away. K posts announcing steeper grades than I particularly wanted. Spin it out, slow and easy, watching a scattered line of cyclists coming down, windbreakers flapping, most looking like they’re afraid to let go of their brakes.
The final straight onto the col, and into the head wind I knew was going to be there, cold air out of the north, but not as strong as I feared. Don’t stop on the col, swing left and up to the bar for a beer, eat the sandwich I’ve been hauling along, enjoy the light of a long summer evening, think about the descent to come. Glance at the time, 6:30 in the evening, some 1500 vertical meters (5000 ft) above the valley floor, an hour of driving back to the house, getting home by 8:00 could be tight.
Lots of great descents in the Alps. The one I’m about to do is as good as there is, one of the best of the best of the best. And hardly ridden. Maybe because the road is steep, twisty, and narrow, as in your basic maybe-lane-and-a-halfer, with lots of blind turns and big drops off the side. So many blind turns in fact that painting the front tire white might be a good idea. Maybe people don’t know it’s there. No signs pointing to it, you just have to know where it is and how to get to it. It’s the old road up the mountain, built long before the ski station. Didn’t go to the col, just into the basin below the col. A road crossing the col came later. At any rate it’s sort of a hidden road.
Last time I did it was with my son and three of his riding buddies from the states. Came up via the stackbacks, over Chaussy, across the High Traverse, up to the col where we pulled in for a beer stop, or maybe beers stop as I recall. The High Traverse their first time riding french dirt. They were impressed. Actually they were blown away so were celebrating the day with beers on the col thinking the day was a wrap. It wasn’t. I took them down the old road. They flipped, only my son had ever done a descent like that. Fast and edgy, gravity pulling hard, blind turns begging for speed, linked back and forths daring us to go faster, humps and ramps challenging perceptions of what speed was all about. An insane plunge off the mountain.
Nothing’s changed. Still all about ripping down the mountain, riding the edge, carving hard arcs, total concentration, dancing that zone between all out speed and leaving some margin for the unexpected. Or hopefully some margin, never sure on that. An intensity tunnel. And long, like really long. My hands and arms started feeling the strain, fingers semi-numb from the cold. Slicing across a cliff glanced to the left and saw the valley floor still way below. Met one car coming up right after a blind turn. The driver had honked so I knew someone would be there. Later caught two cars going down. Floated just off the back corner waiting for enough space to squeeze by or the drivers to notice I was there. Soon as they saw me each slowed and eased to the right. Squeezed by with a wave and disappeared down the mountain.
Took me hours to get to the Madeleine, hours of fine riding, hours of total enjoyment despite the effort, but this, the plunge, was the zone that when all is said and done is why I climb. And this particular plunge is an absolute have-to descent, if you’re into crazy gravity plunges that is.