Spring must be coming...

Let's say that this week hasn't been very Mediterranean yet. The verges are covered in primroses, the farmers have been planting green crops, the snow is melting on all but the highest tops, and yet it's feeling distinctly cool. There have been strong Mistral-type winds from the north, and the sun has been somewhat reluctant to show its face. Still (of course) I've managed a couple of 50ish-mile rides,  but today's forecast of unbroken sunshine meant I had to do something bigger... even if the forecast turned out to be very optimistic.

Still, if you're used to the vagaries of English weather, clouds and strong winds aren't enough to deter, so today's route of 85 miles (after some furniture moving for my English friends down here) went ahead as planned. It's still too early to do big cols (some of the higher ones on the Vercors plateau are turned into ski runs in the winter), so I headed west and north up to Barcelonne and back via the Col Jérôme Cavalli and Gigors. The main reason for the route was to try a different way up to the col, via Combovin. (I'm guessing this would be 'Sheepscombe' in English.) These ways up to the plateau take on extra resonance when you've read how crucial they were in the Second World War (there are just seven roads up: two in the north, four in the west, one in the south, and none in the east.)

Anyway, the route was a corker: the photos begin just after Crest,  from where I avoided the unpleasant D538 by taking lovely side roads via les Picoux, Vaunaveys, Ourches and La-Baumes-Cornillanes. This is a pretty, lumpy undulating route (poorly signposted),  but it gives magnificent views down to Valence and the Rhône Valley. Quite a different feeling from Drôme valley routes.

The climb to the col is spectacular too, first up the side of the combe,  then hopping over to the next combe, at the base of which you once again see the fort at Barcelonne. I was going to end the series of photos at the col, but Les Trois Becs, which so often overlook routes all over the area, caught my eye on the D93 on the way back from Mirabel, and just had to have the snow-capped peak of la Pelle snapped.

The route: http://ridewithgps.com/routes/7375434

The tower at Crest, in front of the Trois Becs

The tower at Barcelonne

Combovin

A hairpin on the ascent to the Col Jérôme Cavalli

Barcelonne tower from the climb up from Combovin

The northern bec of the Trois Becs

Three classic routes

As time goes on I'll post as many of the routes that I've done as I can, both as an aide memoire for me, and as a resource for other cyclists using Die as a base. This time round there are three new routes, in each of which I wanted to try out some roads new to me, and to create some 'classic' rides. I was pleased with each, though the credit for that goes to the superb scenery and roads round here.

The first route is the one I did with James Morrison up the Gorges de la Bourne. A couple of notes - I think we missed a nice little bit of balcony at Les Goulets, as an alternative, just before the long tunnel after La Chapelle-en-Vercors; and you can take an alternative route down from Villard, by cutting over the hills instead of going back down part of the gorge. Try to do this when the weather up on the Vercors is going to be good: it can be really unpleasant up there while Die is baking in the sun all day.
 91 miles, Die - Gorges de la Bourne

Next was this solo effort, in which I wanted to get views of Mont Aiguille and the high Alps. Only four cols, but a cracking ride, with the added bonus of the Gorges des Gâts.
78 miles, Die - Col de Menée - Mens - Col de Grimone

Lastly, a bit of a toughie, starting with Col de la Chaudière, but a great mix of scenery. 

87 miles, Die - Col de la Chaudière - Dieulefit - Trente Pas - St Nazaire-le-Désert

Don't take the elevation data too literally: you'll notice that Ridewithgps can't handle tunnels or snaky gorges at all well, so climbing totals get severely exaggerated where there is much of either. That said, these are all routes where you'll want some decent climbing legs and food to power you over the cols. There were no problems finding water to top up bottles en route.

Mad French roads: gorges.

I guess that the French like challenges. Well, certainly the road builders do, if examples in these parts are anything to go by. You might have read about the Gorges de la Bourne in a previous posting, but that's a far from isolated example. I guess that with the nature of the terrain in the mountains, you either have to go through them (the French are quite handy tunnellers too) or round them, and the latter usually involves following an Alpine water course, and in doing so, a certain amount of flair is called for.

The Gorges de la Bourne is one of those late 19th-century balcony roads that seemed to be as much about the problem-solving engineering as about the need to get from A to B. And I'm not sure what the economic case for building the Gorges des Gâts was (it was built in 1910) , and though it's maybe not a classic balcony road (much of it runs along the bottom of the gorge), it's certainly a roller-coaster ride. This time I rode there specially to take photos - I hope you appreciate the dedication to duty!

At the end of the photos there are a couple of shots from the ride back, and an apparently unloved little col: the Col de Miscon. No official sign there, but a rather sad little hand-painted one. OK, a 1023m col in these parts is hardly worth mentioning, but given that it's not far off the highest point in England, I thought I'd give it a little moment of glory. Well, if a paragraph in some barely-read blog can achieve that, that is.

Diois weather

I'm not going to deny that one of the main attractions of the Diois region is the climate. Devon, in English terms, on average, does fare well in comparison with the rest of the country. But averages only tell part of the story, and we've had an extended poor run of summers for several years now, and the forecasters say that that might be the norm for a while yet.

Well, at the risk of sounding a little morbid, I occasionally muse on how many summers I've got left in which I can make good use of the reasonably fit and active body I'm fortunate enough to have. Will I be able and keen to go up Alpe d'Huez in my seventies? Possibly yes, but I'd rather be getting in the riding and general enjoyment of the outdoors now, in decent weather. And decent weather has been in short supply. (That's assuming that decent weather includes reasonable doses of sunshine and warmth - though I'll grant that it's not to everyone's taste.)

Anyway, back to Diois weather, and those fallible averages: on average, Die has the same amount of rain as Devon, but about 800 more hours of sunshine. Yep, 800. That's nearly 50% more. Even if you distrust statistics, that's likely to be noticeable. And so it was last summer, with both of my visits seeing plenty of sunshine, while Devon was suffering storms and flooding. Not to mention temperatures of 39C during the August stay.

"But," I hear you say, "if it's so sunny, how come they have as much rain as Devon?" Good question - I'm glad you asked. Well, if you've seen an Alpine storm, you'll know how. An "orage". Rain like you"ll rarely see in England, but seen regularly here, especially at certain times of the year.

Well, one was forecast yesterday, and it came. There was no missing it. Thunder rolling around for an hour, lightning flashes getting closer. Then suddenly the wind went mad for five minutes, and all the mountains disappeared behind a wall of rain. The wind stopped, but it carried on raining for an hour. Then it stopped, and warm sun came out and there were clear blue skies. Time for a quick ride. But the showers were still about, so time to  close the shutters for the night. When it rains here, you understand why French houses have shutters. Incidentally, we'ce had two rainy days here so far in August. Most of the rest of the time it's been sunny. They're getting their 800 extra hours, it seems.

Only two photos: one post-thunderstorm during the snatched ride; the other, an incendiary evening sky.

Cols, cols, cols...

For a cyclist the area is quite simply as good as you could possibly imagine. We're actually extremely lucky in Devon with the range of riding we have and the beauty of the scenery. I'd even stick my neck out and say that, especially considering we've got more miles of roads than the whole of Belgium, the county council do a pretty good job of keeping them in a reasonable state.

However, France has a reputation for road quality which is with good foundation. Whether it's because the French pay more tax, or because the government pays nothing maintaining the toll motorway network (leaving more money for other roads), it's rare that you'll find a poorly-maintained road here. And once you get into the Diois (the area around Die) and Vercors region, the mix of terrain and road quality is an absolute joy.

One of the best aspects is that you can make up a ride from virtually pan-flat (the Drôme valley road goes on for about 40 miles in either direction) or ridiculously hilly, with literally dozens of 1000m+ cols within forty miles.

Photos below come from one of the classic rides from Die: up the 20km Col de Rousset, over a few more cols to the Col de la Bataille, and back to Die via the Col de Bacchus and the village of Blacons.