From home to the Alps ... by bike!

This isn't the latest news ... but rather recounting my hugely enjoyable ride from my home in Exeter to Die back in August 2012. I thought I'd put a posting here on the blog in case anyone else is contemplating a similar trip, and might find it helpful; also, as it was a splendid adventure, and you might just find it interesting in itself.

First the context: I had already stayed near Die (the very first time for me), at the Wessons' house in St. Andéol-en-Quint in June 2012, and had an unforgettably wonderful week. Back in Devon in July, I was looking forward to a summer of cycling round the countryside in the warmth, when I realised that summer was going to bypass England yet again. Rather morbidly I started considering how many summers of fully active cycling I had left in me, and decided that I wasn't going to lose another one to the grey, cool and windy conditions England was offering. And so I decided to cycle TO the Alps. As you do.

After establishing that the Wessons would be in residence, and could put up with my presence for a few days, I sorted a route, booked my ferry crossing out, and my flight home. with a bit of creativity with bike racks and cars, I worked out that I could ride there, and catch a plane back, with my bike returning later on my bike rack, kindly carried by the Wessons & their car.

So, to cut a long story short: the route consisted of two days cycling to Portsmouth from Exeter, via Shaftesbury & the New Forest (I decided that the 130-mile route would be a heavy one to do in one day for the first day), and then five days for the planned 530 miles from St Malo to Die (with deviations it came to nearer 600 miles). The weather on the English side was grey and and a bit damp; on arriving in St Malo, the sun was out, and 25C promised. In fact, that was the coolest day, and by the time I got to Die it was 35C.

I was amused while waiting for the ferry - there must have been about twenty-or-so cyclists, all laden down with panniers anywhere they could be fixed. Nearly all of them were heading for Brittany, and when one or two asked me where I was heading, with just my saddlebag for company, there was surprise when I said 'The Alps'. But that's how I decided to do it: as light as possible, finding B&Bs along the way. So my kit consisted of: basic repair stuff (enough to get me to the next town and a bike shop, if necessary), showerproof top (not used, in the end) and arm/leg warmers, in case of chill (also not used), passport, phone, computer tablet, money, and a T-shirt and shorts, so I could wash my cycling kit each night. You'll see a photo below of the 'laden' bike.

And a summary of the ride? Absolutely wonderful. A week of solo riding as I pleased, mostly lovely roads (one or two getting down to Tours a bit on the straight, monotonous and slightly too busy side). There were just too many highlights to list them all, but a wonderful lunch in Thuret, an unbelievably relaxing and cheap B&B in Boën, and a final day of 141 miles, with 12,000ft of climbing, in 35C temperatures and with a decent tailwind, are all seared into my memory.

Firstly the French part of the route: http://ridewithgps.com/routes/1441823 - as I say, I did make some deviations from this in the second and third days, as I found some of the straight C-roads a bit monotonous and busy, but certainly the route from south of Tours was sheer delight.

Food-wise, I ended up eating café meals twice a day, and coffees morning and afternoon, which allowed me to fill up water bottles. It was warm enough that even with loads of ice in the water was warm within an hour. I also ended up calling at several houses along the way if they'd mind filling up my bottles, as I was getting through about 4-5 litres a day: no-one refused, and several were only too pleased to chat and offer encouragement too.

Cost-wise, it wasn't cheap, as everything was bought as I went, and I couldn't really shop around for places to stay: travelling alone, I didn't pre-book anything, but each place I decided to stop, the first B&B/hotel I called at had a bed, ranging in price from 55 to 25 euros. I reckon in total it cost me £100 a day ... but that was two restaurant meals a day, multiple café stops, and accommodation. Still cheaper than doing an organised tour. And it bought me unforgettable memories, that's for sure.

Blue skies on arrival in St Malo

The first morning's coffee stop

The lunchtime view in Fougères

The fully-laden bike

 

Tours Cathedral, after a lunch of rabbit stew

 

One of the many excellent calorie-replacement stops

.,, and this is where it was provided.

A refreshing view

 

The wonderful café in Thuret

Thiers

And here's me arriving at St Andéol seven days and 729 miles after leaving home. The photo was only slightly contrived...

Col de Rousset 1254m

The Col de Rousset is the gateway to the beautiful Vercors plateau from the south. Firstly, a map: http://ridewithgps.com/routes/4464631 - this gives the stats of the ascent as 11.3 miles long and 2849 ft of ascent (that's 18.1 km +868 m for metric folk). You'll also notice 124 ft (34m) of descent too - more of that in a moment.

I suppose this is really a quiet little promotion for the climb itself: quite apart from it being just fifteen minutes from the house, it is not only a great introduction to Alpine hills (it's about an hour up and 25 minutes down), but also extremely beautiful, with ever changing views as you ascend, but also through the seasons. For this posting, I've used photos taken in April, and the mixture of Spring light and foliage (or lack of foliage, for many of the trees) is in stark contrast to the bleakness of winter or the lushness later in the year.

The character of the climb is that it is very benign, and as long as you can keep pedalling for an hour or so at moderate effort, you will get to the top and have the reward of the breathtaking view. In the series of photos below you'll see features from the climb from just outside of Die on the D518. From the inconspicuous 'DEPART' post lurking by a large information sign, you start with a gentle climb towards and through the Forêt de Justin; before the road levels out, and indeed then makes a little descent towards the bridge just before the picturesque village of Chamaloc, and its much-photographed lavender fields. If you keep an eye on the kilometre posts, they helpfully give the elevation, distance to next notable place, and percentage gradient: the only one that does not have a percentage is the one just before Chamaloc, as it would be a negative one!

At Chamaloc the climbing recommences, and from here you have the prospect of a continuous climb to the top, round the eight hairpin bends. One of the thrills of the ascent is that, just after Chamaloc, you can see virtually the whole climb open out before you: ahead, just to the right of the apex of the valley, you can just make out the entrance to the tunnel at the col, and either side of the apex you can see the road carved out of the side of the valley, and the hairpins themselves. None of the climb is more than 10%, and much of it nearer 5%, so it does not necessarily favour the lightest riders: as long as someone can put out decent power, they can keep up with the specialist climbers, as shown by two of the Exeter Wheelers who were with me this week: despite a 15kg weight difference, there was only about 20 seconds difference in their times of slightly under 50 minutes. I was a more sedate 56'20. Taking in the views, of course.

At the top, the view is outstanding - not of Alps themselves, but the pre-Alps stretching south from the plateau: on a good day you'll see that characteristic sight of lines of outlines getting fainter the further away they are.

I returned to the climb later in the week to take these photos, and to do a video of the descent, in which I tried to give a few views out to the side, as well as staying on the bike despite the strong gusting and swirling winds.

The road to the Col de Rousset from the main road west out of Die

The easily missed 'Départ' post

One of the very helpful km markers. The distance actually is to the far end of the tunnel at the col.

The bridge after the short descent into Chamaloc

The place where you get your first proper view of the top of the ascent

And here you get the ascent laid out in front of you, winding across the valley

Hairpin No.1

Hairpin 2

Hairpin 3

View of hairpin 3

Hairpin 4

Hairpin 5

Hairpin 6

Km marker at hairpin 6

Hairpin 7

Hairpin 8 - the last one!

The well-earned view from the top.

The end of the climb

 And lastly, the rather windy descent, as far as Chamaloc.

Training in the Alps

A year ago was the first time I stayed in the house at Les Liotards; this year three of that original let's-furnish-the-house-with-stuff-from-Ikea party returned with four others from Exeter Wheelers to take advantage of the clement weather and mixture of stunning roads for a week-or-so-long training camp.

With ages ranging from mid-20s to, er, 50 (me), including someone who doesn't (yet) admit to liking hills, and a mixture of committed and experienced racers, less experienced racers, and one other (me again), it promised to be interesting to see how we sorted out our riding. The riders: Ellie and John (20s), Jon, Mark, Jamie and Arved (30s), and me. In fact, only two of the riders (Jamie and Ellie) didn't know the area at all, all the others having stayed here before. 

One of the pleasures of the place is its beauty - but this is also one of the challenges for real training too: can you take in and enjoy the scenery but still do some serious, structured training? Well, I suppose that since I ride for fun and don't race, I can afford not to be too scientific in my approach to training (I still enjoy riding at a reasonable level of fitness and competence, and do some time trialling with the club), but I do think that a good and sufficient mix of riding at different intensities will not do most riders any harm.

For the mix of riding, the roads round here really do the work for you: if you've read previous posts or seen the list of routes, you'll know what a good range of roads and routes there are, from nearly flat to big Alpine climbs. And if you take basic the six-day stats, with our individual totals ranging from about 200 to 375 miles, I suspect that we'll all be leaving France somewhat fitter than when we arrived, despite the prodigious amounts of food (especially cheese) that have seen consumed.

Training highlights: climbs up the Col de Rousset, Col de Grimone, Col de Menée and Col de la Chaudière, which both confirmed Jamie as a prodigious climber, followed closely by Arved (and not forgetting John's spirited chasing on Col de Rousset); Arved's dedication to cranking out the miles at an unremitting pace and eating for two; the stunning loop of Col de Grimone, Col de la Croix Haute and Col de Menée which had differing opinions on whether training should include a lunch in a roadside café or not; and a stunning day up on the Vercors plateau: properly challenging riding in quite breathtaking surroundings.

And it's all been helped by extremely pleasant weather: only one day with some rain (gone by lunchtime), and as long as you don't mind lots of sunshine and temperatures in direct sun of about 40C (and air temperatures, down in the valleys, of 20-25C), there hasn't been much to complain about. Even my first-attempt tartiflette drew no complaints.

Photos below are from the Grimone-Menée ride, and going out towards Col de la Chaudière, on a ride which split into two after the descent to Bourdeaux, both groups arriving back in Die with five minutes of each other, though one group having consumed coffee and flan as part of their training.

Routes done over the week or so include:

• To Aouste-sur-Lye, up to Beaufort-sur-Gevanne, and back via the Col de la Croix and Col de Marignac
• To Châtillon-en-Diois and back via the Col de Miscon
• To the Col de Grimone and back via the Col de Menée
• To Pont-en-Royans via Vercors, up the Gorges de la Borne, talking the short cut back at Rencurel to St Agnan-en-Vercors and back down the Col de Rousset
• To Col de la Chaudière, and back (eastwards) by Vallée de la Roanne or (westwards) by Dieulelfit, St Bégude-le-Mazenc and Crest
• To Valdrôme and back via Rossas and Bellegarde-en-Diois

Jon Hare nearing the Col de Grimone

L-R: me, Jon Hare and Mark Williamson at the Col de Grimone

At the start of the Col de Menée ascent, near Chichilianne

Jamie Howard ascending the amazing Gorges de la Borne

Arved Scwendel on the Vercors plateau, near St. Agnan-en-Vercors

Heading out towards the tough Col de la Chaudière

Ellie Bremer at the deserted Col de Miscon

Walkers: be prepared to turn back!

As mentioned before there is a wonderful selection of paths round here, from 'routes forestières', through signposted 'grandes routes', to 'autres sentiers' (other footpaths). It is a walkers' paradise, with a richness of scenery which must match just about anywhere in the world. Buy some local guide books, the local maps (IGN 1:25000 are good, though not as clear as Ordnance Survey), and off you go.

BUT ... a word of warning. The downside of the dramatic scenery is that you need to use your discretion. In short, be prepared to turn back if your path is dangerous because of the season, weather, or state of repair. Last winter I turned back twice when routes that would be perfectly fine in Summer were turned into potential death traps for a casual walker by ice and snow: some of the more mountainous paths have some quite dramatic drops, and you wouldn't want to slide over them.

And today's walk, done in perfect weather, after a promising start, soon turned tricky: one section, where the earth path had become extremely narrow because of a landslip from one edge was fairly simply and safely bypassed with a bit of a scramble through some trees. However the next section, along a narrowish ledge along a crumbly cliff face with a few large sheer drops to the right  was a no-brainer: time to retrace steps and keep myself safe for another walk another day.

It's worth remembering that the dramatic geology round here is the result of constant change: not just over long time-scales of millions of years, but all the time, now. Many roads are prone to rockfalls (the Col de Grimone is currently shut because of a major one), and many roads and paths, out of necessity, have been built on and surrounded by structurally weak geology.  It's a geology which is both awe-inspiring and a bit terrifying. And it's certainly worth seeing.

Most of the photos are from today's aborted walk. The last couple are from Vercors yesterday, and suggest why walking maps may need to be taken with a pinch of salt there in Winter.

Judging from the state of the rocks above the path, this isn't a place to hang around for too long.

To the right there are some sheer drops of a hundred feet or so. Hmm.

When the French say a path is dangerous, it is.

Time for a scramble over the banks to the right.

The 'interesting' path to Pas de Sagatte. Treat with extreme caution.