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July 2000 Diary

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July 1st - The Marmotte, 174km and 5000m of climbing

The first of July was important in France for three reasons, it was the first days of the French summer holiday, the Tour de France would start and it was my appointment with the Marmotte. The Marmotte is one of the hardest sportifs events in the Alps. 174km, with four of the most famous mountain passes which added up to 5,000 metres of climbing.

The route starts in the town of Bourg d'Oisans and then takes in the Col de la Croix de Fer (2067m), Col du Telegraphe (1561m), Col du Galibier (2645m) before descending for the final thousand metre ascent of the Alpe d'Huez.

The sun had started to rise as I left Grenoble to drive to Bourg d'Oisans at just after five in the morning, giving impressive silhouettes of the Dent de Crolles and the Belledonne range. Fifty minutes later, I was buying pastries from the Boulangerie in the start town and preparing my bike.

With nearly 5,000 starters, the riders were splintered into different start groups and I joined my fellow riders ready for the start.

The first 14 kilometres were flat and the steam of cyclists rolled along at a steady pace. We passed through Allemont and then our first climbing started as we climbed up the face of the dam that overlooks the town. The climb didn't properly kick in till three kilometres later after crossing a small bridge and then the road wound up the left side of a wooded valley with grey peaks above.

The event was unknown territory for me, it was a long way and I had never done so much climbing in a day. I had chosen a smallest gear of 39-26, and I sat in this gear for the majority of the climb. There were riders passing me and I was passing riders but I tried to keep a pace that I felt comfortable with.

I crossed the summit of the Col de la Croix de Fer and took advantage of the feeding station, hogging on the fruit available and taking an energy bar for the descent. The descent was long and had two sections of uphill as well as five tunnels. I saw two guys picking themselves off the road after one tunnel, looking as though they had had taken quite a fall together. One of the ambulances was quickly with them.

We were applauded as we passed through the town of St Michel de Maurienne and had 12 kilometres to the next town of St Jean de Maurienne, the bottom of the Col du Telegraphe. I sat in a group of around thirty riders and sheltered from the headwind, conserving as much energy as possible.

The bottom of the Telegraphe is steep and winds out of the town and into deciduous woods. I could see the Telegraphe tower on the mountain to my right and from previous experience, I knew that I had to climb to the same height. The sun was out and I felt fine.

The organisers had set-up signs on each climb detailing how long the climb had left. For me, the last five kilometres didn't seem to be that bad. It wasn't steep and I was happy to see the last few kilometres tick off. All this changed when a wasp got down the front of jersey, 500 metres from the summit. The cyclists behind had to avoid me as I banged my chest like Tarzan, trying to stop the little devil stinging me. I soon realised that this was aggravating him more and more and I quickly stopped and was then able to squash him, but not before it had stung me four times.

After the Col, the road descended to the ski resort of Valloire and I was looking forward to the next feeding zone. It was only another four kilometres of climbing from the village. The sunshine had gone and been replaced by cloud and it didn't look promising ahead up the valley. The fruit that I'd been dreaming of on the Telegraphe was available at the feeding zone and I must have eaten about two whole oranges, as well as prunes, banana and dried apricots.

I soon donned my rain cape as the rain started and tried to make time pass faster by spotting the marmottes I could hear. The other thing I could hear was Dutch voices. I think that half the race was made up of cyclists from Holland, obviously craving the mountains that they miss back home.

At the Plan Lachat, the road turns to climb on the other side of the valley and the road ramped up in front of me like a wall.. I was out of the saddle for most of the next few kilometres till the Col came into view with five kilometres to the summit. The rain had now stopped but the nearer I got, the worse I felt and I stopped twice trying to find some energy. My legs were shattered and I wasn't going to think of the last climb up the Alp. At least I would have 50 kilometres to recover from the top to Bourg d'Oisans.

My computer registered 13 degrees at the summit of the Col du Galibier and I quickly ate some fruit at the feeding station before starting the cold descent. Most riders did the same but there were a few who continued straight down. I'd registered around six hours to this point.

Although it was cloudy, there were still stunning views of the mountains and the glaciers of the Ecrins mountain range. I could see riders descending on the road below me as I wound down the mountainside and was pleased to hit the motorway roads after the Col du Lauteret. I was aware that there was a crowd clapping at cyclists but my mind was set on catching the guys a hundred metres ahead. I joined the guys, and over the 50 kilometres to Bourg d'Oisans, the group swelled to about 15 and motored along.

My time was 8:15:48, one minute and 12 seconds inside the gold medal standard for my age category. It had been an epic ride, and I was placed in position 471.

I'd recommend this event, it takes in some of the most impressive scenery in the Alps over some of the most famous mountain passes, and it is well organised. Everything is signposted, there is medical help if needed and the feeding stations are well supplied with energy foods.

 

July 7th - Col Luitel and a horsefly

As I write this, I realise that my cycle up the Col Luitel was my last ride in decent weather for the last week and a half. Grenoble has been cloudy, windy and the rain has been falling more frequently than not. The Col du Galibier was closed because of snow, and all this in the month of July.

I left work at lunchtime and cycled to the pretty town of Vizille, and then carried on for a further eight kilometres to Sechilienne, a small village at the foot of two wooded climbs. To the south, the Col de la Morte, a pretty col at the foot of the Alp du Grand Serre ski station. To the north is the Col Luitel, a 900 metre ascent on a small winding road where the gradient is relentlessly around ten percent.

The sun was out and it was warm. I refilled my bottle in the fountain in the square as I knew there would be no chance on the climb, and then took the right fork out the village and started the climb.

The first hundred metres of vertical climb take you through fields and past houses before you reach the hamlet of les Ailauds at 475 metres. After that, you cycle under the pleasant shade of the trees that cover the mountainside.

The road was quiet and I saw two other cyclists on the climb, one climbing and one descending, and was only passed by two cars. The road surface varied from okay to quite bumpy in a few places, and it does feel a tough climb as there is no easing in the steepness of the slope. It was often quite difficult to judge the altitude as the foliage blocks the sun and also any chance of a view.

From kilometre eight to nine, the gradient averages 11 percent. My legs were feeling the previous eight kilometres and my speed had dropped when I saw a horsefly happily sat on my left thigh. I knocked him off but he'd obviously been there for a while and had a good feed as I was left with a little blood dripping from the bite.

The hamlet of la Croix signifies the end of the climb. The woods are left behind and are replaced by long grass, and then the Col sign. Just after the col, I passed the Lake Luitel, an area rich in wildlife and a nature reserve. The countryside is very pretty here and there are numerous picnic spots available so it would make a perfect lunch stop on a ride.

500 metres after the Col sign I had the option of turning right for the final seven kilometres of climbing to Chamrousse or left, descending back to Uriage les Bains and then Grenoble. I had to work so I had no option but to turn left.

 

The following two rides were based around the southern Alpine town of Barcelonnette.

 

July 29th - Three Cols including the highest mountain pass in Europe

I left Barcelonnette early on a chilly Saturday morning with clear skies. The mountain views in every direction were stunning with a backdrop of picture-postcard blue sky. I cycled the first eight kilometres from Barcelonnette to Jausiers with a Frenchman who was staying at the ski resort of Pra Loup, the ski resort nestled in the nearby mountains above the town.

The Cime de la Bonette is the highest mountain pass in Europe at 2802 metres and is a long climb at 24km, 1,600 vertical metres above Jausiers. You soon leave the town behind and wind up through hairpins till all signs of civilisation are lost. There are regular signs counting down the kilometres and giving you altitude checks, and also regularly letting you know that this is the highest mountain pass in Europe.

The climb to the top of the Bonette is a very pretty and the landscape becomes more desolate the higher you climb. Above 2000 metres, marmots shrieked in the rocks but remained hidden from my view. I passed a small lake and then climbed through a deserted hamlet before rounding a corner three kilometres from the summit and could see the distinctive pyramidal peak that marks the top of the Bonette. The final two kilometres had just been gravelled, and it made uncomfortable cycling.

With a kilometre to go, I had the option of avoiding the final hundred metres of climbing by turning left over the Col de la Bonette at 2715 metres and joining the road toward Nice. I'd come this far and I felt fine so I was ready to climb to the top. There were a number of Gendarmes, and the traffic was stacked back but I was able to nip down the side of the cars and carry on climbing. It seemed strange that there were so many people around at eight thirty in the morning, at 2,700 metres. It was then horribly steep till the summit but it thankfully doesn't last too long.

The views from the top of the 2802 metre Cime de la Bonette are unlike any other Col. There are no snowy peaks towering over the area, only in the distance to the north-west. You can see the road zigzagging down the mountainside, hundreds of metres below, heading towards Nice. You really do feel that you are on top of the world. There is also a very impressive little hut for food and souvenirs. I can personally recommend the pickled eggs, as I'd enjoyed one with a beer when I'd cycled up here in 1994. I couldn't face and egg or a beer for breakfast today though! A fellow cyclist told me that you could even get a good omelette and chips.

I donned my wind cape and began my descent. Back at the Col de la Bonette, it quickly became apparent why there were so many cars and people. There was a religious service being held just above the gully of the col. Hymns were blaring from huge speakers and I had to carefully pick my way through a crowd of a few hundred people and then past the cars that were lined back on the southern descent. It was great to then have an empty road on the descent, enjoying the hairpins and passing through deserted village of Camp des Fourches after eight kilometres.

I bought and ate fruit and pizza from the shops in the attractive village square at St-Etienne-de-Tinee, and then had 15 kilometres of gradual descent but into a strong headwind to Isola, the bottom of the Col de Lombarde. The climb to the Lombarde is never too steep, averaging around seven percent, but climbs for 22 kilometres from 875 metres to 2350 metres. I enjoyed this road from the bottom with the frequent hairpins, as it wound up the left and right sides of a valley, crossing the river on various little bridges. The road was very quiet and I didn't see any other cyclists on the climb and only a few cars.

The ski resort of Isola 2000 was deserted, and I cycled past the various tumbleweeds that were blowing through the streets. It wasn't that bad but it felt like it. The food that I had hoped to buy wasn't on offer so I carried on feeling tired, to the Col. The road turned into single track for the final four kilometres and climbed on the left side of the valley. I passed a number of families eating picnics, munching through lavish banquets as I grovelled past dreaming of food.

The top was again barren as I had climbed above the fir trees that give the area its distinctive feel, and enjoyed the views of the Isola 2000 ski area, and the mountains to the north. It was a lot more rugged than the top of the Bonette. There was no border checkpoint or café so again I couldn't buy food.

The 1500 metre vertical descent to the Italian village of Vinadio is very pretty. The first few kilometres wound their way down through a crumbing mountainside before joining the right hand side of a valley. Sporadic hairpins break up the descent and there are some very impressive sections of road winding below you.

I found the final three kilometres of constant hairpins very tiring as constant braking was needed, and I was happy to join the main road and begin the 31 kilometre ascent back into France over the Col de Larche, an 1100 metre ascent to 1991 metres.

The cycling was made easier because of an easy gradient and a good tailwind for the first 15 kilometres, but the wind had switched to a headwind after the hairpin at Pontebernardo and I began to feel incredibly tired. The sun had been beating down all day and I now hadn't eaten anything for over 80 kilometres, and I couldn't but anything as I didn't have any Italian currency. The ramp through the village of Argentera felt steeper than it probably was.

The Col de Larche is a lovely climb, with my favourite section just after Argentera. With five kilometres left, the road climbs through ten hairpins in around a kilometre and it's an impressive sight, before and after climbing this section. The area around the hairpins is also home to marmots, who were openly wandering around the rocks, obviously used to the cars passing and humans watching them.

With 500 metres to go before the Col, I passed the small Lac de Maddalena and its café, busy with the dozens of motorbikers who had passed me on the climb. My mind was elsewhere and focused on getting to the top and the food I could buy with my French money.

 

July 30th - Three Cols above 2000 metres

The clear skies were again with me on Sunday morning, and I felt the benefit of a large Italian meal the night before. I pedalled steadily from Barcelonnette and began the 21 km to Col d'Allos (2245m), spinning up the seven percent gradient in 39-26, and this time loaded with energy drinks. The air was less chilly than the day before and there were a lot of grasshoppers on the edge of the road enjoying the early morning sunshine. I avoided a huge red and black caterpillar halfway up as it ambled across the road.

I chatted with various cyclists along the way including one notable chap, a resident of Barcelonnette, who told me that France has some great cities but Grenoble was not one of them. He spoke in French but kept remarking 'good boy, good boy' in English whenever I made comments about what I'd been doing or where I had been cycling.

After fourteen kilometres, the mountain views off to the left took in the valley of the Col de la Cayolle, which I would descend after my third col, later in the day. A road that wound up a green valley with a backdrop of rugged pale mountains.

The road to the Col d'Allos climbed past fir trees for most of its 21 km and it was only in the last few kilometres when the trees disappeared. The last four kilometres were harder than they should have been as I saw two guys cycling relatively fast on the hairpins below me, and I was determined that I was not going to be caught. They didn't and I took time for a photo at the top and spoke to one of them. They were here for the French mountain bike championships at Pra Loup and getting some road training in before the competition started.

There were no trees for the first few kilometres of the descent, instead views of barren mountains and ski runs without any snow. Just above the ski resort of Foux de Allos, I passed through a series of four close hairpins, descending through fir trees and the same hairpins that I had seen the Tour de France snaking up a month before. The road then dropped through the ski resort, then on to Allos after nine kilometres and then on towards Colmars.

My next col, the Col des Champs (2087m) was nice shady climb for most of its 12 kilometres. The climb started in the pretty town of Colmars, and the single track road wound up hairpins at the bottom and took me through forest before opening up to lovely mountain views for the last four kilometres. Mountains that looked more like the Dolomites in places especially as I started the descent and the road wound its way underneath the 2,500 metre Aiguilles de Pelens.

It was a 17 kilometre descent to St Martin d'Entraunes where the temperature was reading 29 degrees. Only 21 kilometres to top of Col de la Cayolle (2345m)!

The Col de la Cayolle was easy at bottom as I had a nice tailwind and it was not too steep. The gradient steepened just after the village of Entraunes, 15 kilometres from the summit. Beforehand, the road had followed the left side of a valley, but after the village, the road climbed up hairpins and wound its way past green fields, through tunnels, and at one point it crossed halfway up a crumbling rock face. A rock face that looked like a big seam of slate and would have been more at home in the Welsh mountains.

I felt tired with eight kilometres to climb so stopped for Coke and a Magnum ice cream at a cafe. The Magnum had been recommended by a friend as instant energy source, and a sure way of cycling those last few kilometres home. It certainly got me up the last hairpins, and although I was feeling tired, I was not as shattered as I was climbing the Col du Larche the day before. The whole vista was very pretty with lovely views all the way up, cycling past crumbling cliffs, waterfalls, marmots shouting on the rocks and impressive views of the hairpins to be climbed.

I took time to enjoy the views of the mountains at the top and to get some breath back. The Col de la Cayolle was a notable climb for me because it took me to 100 cycled mountains. I dread to think the number of hours on the bike that it has taken me to 'bag' those 100 cols, but I had done it and could think about a new goal on the descent.

There was a large full car park at the top but little sign of the occupants of the cars. There was also no sign of a cafe or kiosk selling drinks and souvenirs, so I donned my race cape and set off for the 27 kilometres to Barcelonnette.

It was a great descent and stunning scenery, especially near the bottom when I dropped through a beautiful winding gorge. The river was an inviting blue and the riverbanks were full of tourists enjoying the sun and scenery. The cycling here felt a little dangerous at times as the road was barely wide enough for a car. This should not put anybody off cycling the Col de Cayolle as it is certainly an amazing road that I would recommend anybody to cycle, especially climbing from Barcelonnette.

124 kilometres and 3300m of climb, energy drinks played a big part along with the Magnum and Coke on getting me around.

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