velotel
10-20-2011, 06:06 AM
I'd done the Col de Menée three times, always from the north side, first time in 2007. Kept thinking the south side could be a sweet climb. Didn't give the north side much thought in terms of going down. I think about it a lot now, best downhill I've ever done. Well, okay, one of the best, one of the very best. But first have to get there.
The last 6 ks coming off the Col de Grimone were all spinning in my biggest gear. Just slightly downhill enough to keep me maxed out spinning despite a wind blowing up the valley. Looked over at Max and told him we were in luck, we'd have a tailwind up the Menée. Hit the junction, turned right, headed up, a weakening wind on our backs. Somewhere 800 vertical meters above us was the col, or rather the tunnel. Still on the big ring, just moved up a couple of cogs. Easy riding, 2% and then 3% grades. Stopped to strip all those layers I'd put on during the ride off the Grimone. Back down to shorts and shirt, sun baking my back. Excellent.
Into the village of Menée, not much there, more a hamlet than village, nothing moving but us. The start of the climb. Up into the 3% and 4% grades then things get serious, all the way up to 5%. Yes! Gotta like that. Average grade from Menée to the col aroud 5,5%. Nice. What a change from those long, excruciating climbs I'm usually torturing myself on in the Alps.
Roll into les Nonnières, small village with what is reputed to be a fine hotel/restaurant. Take five outside at a table, a beer for me, pepsi for Max. Feels good. Knock down some of the food I bought earlier at a bakery. Ready to roll again. To the summit, 530 meters above us, steady 5% and 6% grades with maybe a couple of short ramps perched around 7%. The colors are forever dragging my eyes off the road. Get a rhythm going, then stop and shoot. Off again. Probably doubled the time getting to the summit. Hey, not like I'm there every day, and for sure not on days like this.
Near the top I spot two birds working the currents. No wing movement at all. I stop. They wheel in closer. Yea, two eagles, rare to see in France. I'm wishing I had a longer lens. Beautiful. On to the col, just a short straight tunnel through the ridge. Like getting shot out of cannon into another world, in either direction. South side is south France, dryer, sunnier, different vegetation; north side is thicker, wetter, less extravagant. But not today. Today the north is an explosion of colors, yellows, oranges, reds, and greens. in every shade imaginable. My eyes aren't big enough to take it all in.
We're off. And I discover what may be the best downhill I've ever done. If a road was ever designed by a cyclist for cyclists, at least cyclists who love speed and carving turns, this is the road. The grade is easy, 4% mostly according to Atlas des Cols. No massive gravity accelerations here. Spinning in my biggest gear, but lightly, no need to push for speed. The road's a series of beautifully linked bends perfectly tuned to the bike's speed. The brakes are used to refine the arcs, not to rein in gravity. The road's narrow enough to make drivers cautious as most of the turns are blind but wide enough that we don't have to tiptoe around worrying about some car filling up the road.
Left, right, left, right, on and on, pressing the outside pedal down, leaning into the arcs, carving the sweetest lines possible. Only one problem, my camera in my pack is slamming me on my back screaming for me to stop and shoot the colors. My eyes agree. The bike and my legs are yelling go! go! go! go! don't stop, just go. The speed wins, most of the time. Until there's some view that is impossible to ignore.
The road arcs its way across mountain slopes plunging into valleys below, treeless summits and ridge lines high above. Then it sweeps away and flies into the Col du Prayet, just a saddle on a low ridge, then curls left and we're staring at the Mont Aguile hovering in the distance. You can see it in the video I linked the first post to. The road's straighter now, a bit steeper, gravity going to work with more insistence. And out into the valley. Outrageous, simply outrageous. All the way back to the car. That's one ride that is going to linger in my mind for a long time to come.
The last 6 ks coming off the Col de Grimone were all spinning in my biggest gear. Just slightly downhill enough to keep me maxed out spinning despite a wind blowing up the valley. Looked over at Max and told him we were in luck, we'd have a tailwind up the Menée. Hit the junction, turned right, headed up, a weakening wind on our backs. Somewhere 800 vertical meters above us was the col, or rather the tunnel. Still on the big ring, just moved up a couple of cogs. Easy riding, 2% and then 3% grades. Stopped to strip all those layers I'd put on during the ride off the Grimone. Back down to shorts and shirt, sun baking my back. Excellent.
Into the village of Menée, not much there, more a hamlet than village, nothing moving but us. The start of the climb. Up into the 3% and 4% grades then things get serious, all the way up to 5%. Yes! Gotta like that. Average grade from Menée to the col aroud 5,5%. Nice. What a change from those long, excruciating climbs I'm usually torturing myself on in the Alps.
Roll into les Nonnières, small village with what is reputed to be a fine hotel/restaurant. Take five outside at a table, a beer for me, pepsi for Max. Feels good. Knock down some of the food I bought earlier at a bakery. Ready to roll again. To the summit, 530 meters above us, steady 5% and 6% grades with maybe a couple of short ramps perched around 7%. The colors are forever dragging my eyes off the road. Get a rhythm going, then stop and shoot. Off again. Probably doubled the time getting to the summit. Hey, not like I'm there every day, and for sure not on days like this.
Near the top I spot two birds working the currents. No wing movement at all. I stop. They wheel in closer. Yea, two eagles, rare to see in France. I'm wishing I had a longer lens. Beautiful. On to the col, just a short straight tunnel through the ridge. Like getting shot out of cannon into another world, in either direction. South side is south France, dryer, sunnier, different vegetation; north side is thicker, wetter, less extravagant. But not today. Today the north is an explosion of colors, yellows, oranges, reds, and greens. in every shade imaginable. My eyes aren't big enough to take it all in.
We're off. And I discover what may be the best downhill I've ever done. If a road was ever designed by a cyclist for cyclists, at least cyclists who love speed and carving turns, this is the road. The grade is easy, 4% mostly according to Atlas des Cols. No massive gravity accelerations here. Spinning in my biggest gear, but lightly, no need to push for speed. The road's a series of beautifully linked bends perfectly tuned to the bike's speed. The brakes are used to refine the arcs, not to rein in gravity. The road's narrow enough to make drivers cautious as most of the turns are blind but wide enough that we don't have to tiptoe around worrying about some car filling up the road.
Left, right, left, right, on and on, pressing the outside pedal down, leaning into the arcs, carving the sweetest lines possible. Only one problem, my camera in my pack is slamming me on my back screaming for me to stop and shoot the colors. My eyes agree. The bike and my legs are yelling go! go! go! go! don't stop, just go. The speed wins, most of the time. Until there's some view that is impossible to ignore.
The road arcs its way across mountain slopes plunging into valleys below, treeless summits and ridge lines high above. Then it sweeps away and flies into the Col du Prayet, just a saddle on a low ridge, then curls left and we're staring at the Mont Aguile hovering in the distance. You can see it in the video I linked the first post to. The road's straighter now, a bit steeper, gravity going to work with more insistence. And out into the valley. Outrageous, simply outrageous. All the way back to the car. That's one ride that is going to linger in my mind for a long time to come.