To the sea, to the mainland [Verhsa > Bastia; 7/29-7/31, 107mi]

I made my way down to Bonifacio, a town hanging on the cliffs of the southern tip of Corsica with more scenic coastal roads and coffee stops.

pretty beaches, pretty 'girls'

On my way back up the east coast I passed through the town of Porto Vecchio, which is slated to be the finish town when the Tour de France races a stage on Corsica for the very first time in 2013. Actually the first (and only) I'd ever heard of Corsica before going to France was hearing about it when the race organizers announced that they'd be racing here. The stage starts in Calvi (where I arrived from Nice) and finishes in here in Porto Vecchio, although I'm unsure of their route. After riding all the legendary passes in the Alps, it's fun to be someplace before the Tour comes.

 As I've said it's really hot here, but the warm and inviting Mediterranean Sea offers some exquisite respite with afternoon dips in lovely locales like this:

They grow some amazing produce on this island: orchards of all sorts and particularly delicious melons, peaches and herbs. There are also massive fig and chestnut trees which haven't come into harvest season yet, unfortunately. Roadside fruitstands abound everywhere and have some awfully tasty offerings. Semi-wild livestock (pigs, goats and cows) wonder around the island and specifically famous are the Corsan pigs, who fatten up on a diet of chestnuts before being turned into aged sausages. I tried some Corsan sausage from a supermaket- perhaps I made the mistake of buying the cheapest variety I could find, as I wasn't particularly impressed.  

My final day was a long and mostly flat push north to the port town of Bastia where I'd catch a ferry over to Italy. The Goddess of Island Winds took pity on my suffering back in Iceland, and she pushed me along all day with nice sea breezes at my back. I made the final 75mi by 3:30pm with plenty of time to get to the ferry ticket office and square away my passage in the morning. One last night camped next to the beach just south of Bastia, I got in a refreshing evening swim and fixed a beachside dinner with two Germans who were just starting a 2 week tour around the island themselves. Nice to have my first conversation in English in over a week, and fun to have some expertise to share with them.

bound for Livorno, Italy

goodbye, Corsica

Up & into the interior of Corsica [Porto > Corti > Adjaccio; 7/26-7/28,128mi]

It's a bit tough to peel myself away from the beautiful and tempting beaches in order to climb up into the dry & hot interior, but I'm curious to see what the inland mountain terrain is like. Turns out it's fantastic; these mountains are alright in my book.

The highest pass on the island is Bocca de Verghio at 1467m... which doesn't sound like much since I was up at nearly double this altitude last week in the Alps. But when you start, quite literally, at 0m, it's no small task, especially in the searing heat.

Corsica has a storied past dating back thousands of years, but for recent history it's been a part of France. The old timers speak Corse, a unique language that blends French & Italian; as such all the road signs present both French and Corse spellings. There's a nationalist/liberation movement around, and they like to promote their cause by first painting over the French, then shooting it. No kidding, almost every single road sign on the island is like this! I love the feisty culture here, it's a nice wake up from dusty old France.

It's also specifically illegal to camp in the wild anywhere on the island... although the terrain is so rugged that there's not really many viable places to pitch a tent anyway. There's enough ants & mosquitoes that a tent is pretty much a necessity- so aside from one night up in the high country I'm back to the French campground regimen: RVs, excited kids and screaming babies. Argh.

my feelings exactly

Corsica- a postcard pic of the Mediterranean [Calvi > Porto; 7/24-7/25, 60mi]

Arriving at the port town of Calvi on Corsica was fantastic- a true Mediterranean paradise island, albeit packed with tourists in town. Huge mountains loom in the center of the island, cliffs tumble down to the sea, it's hot and sultry. Corsica is only about 40mi wide and 110mi long but there are mountain peaks at almost 9000ft in the center, and the entire place is hilly & mountainous. My plan is to make a counter-clockwise coastal tour with a few days heading up into the interior high country. After some trouble figuring out which auto parking deck I'd left my bike on, I took an easy few hours to the first town of Galeria for the night.

On the way I stopped off for my ritual afternoon coffee break at a lonely little cafe all by itself in a picture perfect turquoise bay. Everything fit the bill, but was somehow real: red hills down to crystal blue water, a few catamarans moored in the bay, a shirtless waiter wearing white linen pantaloons and a French crooner pumping through the speakers.

The road winds along the coast and occasionally inland for bits, all very rugged and beautiful land. It's super dry and hot here in the summers and a dense scrub called "maquis" grows on much of the hillsides.

I'm still in 'rest mode' from the Alpes and had a lazily short ride the 2nd day to Porto, where I lounged at another cafe next to a bay for the afternoon. As I was settling into the municipal campground, my camp neighbors invited me over to their table for dinner and wine. Really friendly and fun Italians, we had a nice lingering evening... and they're getting me even more excited for Italy next week!

Hello Mediterranean, so long France [7/22 - 7/23; Menton, Nice & Antibes]

It was an easy 40mi stroll along the French Riviera from Menton to Nice. Pretty views of the sea, endless hotels, beach umbrellas & lounge chairs and development all along the way made for an odd day on the bike. Passing by the Monte Carlo casinos and Monaco high rises was fun mostly because there is a network of tunnels to pass through- reminded me of riding in the underground of Chicago back in the day.

When I got to Nice, it was packed with traffic and beach-goers and a little overwhelming. I learned at the Tourist Info office that the nearest campgrounds are 15mi further west in Antibes, so I kept heading on west in faint hopes of finding a beach side campsite. There were none. Just like a portable version of everything else gluttonous and sorta slimy along the Riviera, the campgrounds were jam packed with RVs and not too near the water. Alas, as I headed uphill to one of 'em, the sky opened up to a serious downpour. Luckily I'd just stopped into a little market to grab some snacks and a cold drink, so I waited it out under the awning.... for two hours. I didn't really have anything to do since I was killing this day waiting for the bike shops to open on Monday and deal with my busted rack situation, but it was still a drag.

After the rain let up and I got to the campground, things didn't get any better. I had to pay 15euros to set my tent on a muddy spot next to the lounge and listened to a TV blaring French movies into the night. I'll never get used to French campgrounds.

In the morning I packed up eager to get the front racks figured out. I popped into a McDonalds on the way back to Nice to double check some maps online. In France you can always get free WiFi at McDonalds- a nice perk but then you have to be at a McDonalds (not my ideal place to chill out, and I still have not eaten their food in over 12 years!) But in French McDonalds, you get an espresso in a real ceramic cup!

I decided my best bet for the rack was a chain bikeshop called CultureVelo (which also happens to be open Mondays, unlike most smaller shops) but it was about 8mi northwest of Nice in the commercial big-box mayhem. Not a fun ride, but ya gotta do what ya gotta do. They didn't stock front racks (does anyone??) but I decided I could reverse-mount a rear rack to fix the instability problem, and it only set me back 30euros. From there it was a little further to a Home Depot style place to procure additional washers, bolts, hose clamps and zip ties to mount everything together, followed by a visit to the most sprawling supermarket I've ever been inside to restock my food supply. These big stores are such a pain- you save a few bucks but the time it takes to navigate them is simply not worth it.

By the time I handled all my chores and doubled back through the congestion into Nice, I made my way to the Port to see about my next adventure: hopping on a ferry to the island of Corsica. I'd missed the last boat of the day but bought a ticket for the morning, looked up hostels online and made a race to the nearest one across town. To my surprise and relief, they had beds available and I felt like everything was finally getting settled. I had my rack fix, had my ferry ticket and a fun place to sleep that's not a muddy campground 15mi away.

the hybrid front/rear rack combo

Early the next morning I had a pleasant sunrise spin through downtown Nice back to the port to catch my morning ferry to Corsica. This leg of the trip came about pretty randomly: at the campground in Allemont after riding the Alpe d'Huez, I'd met a nice Swiss guy who was in town for a national downhill MTB race. He'd done quite a bit of touring before he started a family, and after hearing my plans he suggested that instead of riding the boring & congested Riviera into Italy, I should think about taking the ferry to see Corsica, then taking another ferry to Italy. Sounded like a good enough idea; I like boats, I like islands, and I didn't know much about Corsica besides that it is beautiful and has mountains. It's a win win win. And 6 hours on the water was just right, made especially pleasant by the fellow loner French girl I spent a majority of it with.

goodbye, France

The Big Climbs, Part VI: Col Saint Martin, Col de Torinni, Col Castillon [58mi, +5860ft]

I skipped out early on the campground- the office was closed when I showed up after dark and wouldn't open until 10am- I certainly wasn't about to wait around for 2 hours to fork over my money.

The circus was in town- literally- and by the sound of it the circus workers were having a great time very late into the night nearby. I've literally been following this circus through the Alps- every few towns that I pass through have the exact same posters hanging up, with different locales and dates. I have not, however, taken part in the spectacle.

It was a quick few miles over the summit of the Col Saint Martin at 1500M, thanks to my beleaguered efforts last night as darkness set it. Pretty sweet feeling to hit a summit before 9am! Still below treeline so it really was hardly a spectacular sight, although the steep canyon coming up was pretty scenic in a subdued way. Once over the top the view into the town of Saint Martin caught the early morning glow:

Screamed down the other side into the mountain town of Saint Martin, still early enough to eat my breakfast at a picnic table and get a coffee in town with the morning crowd. Then it was back up again, up my last major climb of the French Alps- the Col de Turini at 1607M. After so many climbs, you start to adjust your perspective to think... "oh, only 1600M? No big deal!" But you forget that in this case you're starting from about 400M, so that's actually a very significant climb after all. It's better to be ignorant, I think, because you the reality doesn't set in until it's too late.

And along the way, you marvel at just how, and why, people built towns up here:

Eventually it was over the top of the last big climb, a little bit unceremonious really, as it was just a little junction of a few restaurant/lodges and I was the only cyclist up there at the time. Just as well, I treated myself to a cheap beer for my 10th big summit in the past few days.

As I started rolling down the backside I stopped to adjust the front pannier racks- and heard a sound that is the distinctive 'snap' sound of metal separating from other metal that it's supposed to be attached to. Not good. These front racks have been a trouble since I ever got them, and instead of spending the $$ to upgrade before I left I figured I'd take my chances. A few too may 40+mph bumpy Alpine descents later, the tiny braised lug mount had given up to the torque of the improperly designed racks.

hairline fracture on the left braise-on...

I tried a few zip-ties and parachute cord to shore it up, but it wasn't sturdy enough to feel safe. So I moved the front right pannier to the top of the rear rack and used the upcoming descent to learn how to handle with the new "balance" of the bike. It worked well enough- a little sketch but manageable- and I dropped all the way into the old world town of Sospis with no big trouble. The up-side is that I'll be in Nice soon- home of many proTour cyclists and some decent bike shops. The downside is that today is Saturday, and all French shops are closed on Sunday (often Mondays too) so I've gotta kill a day with the busted rack before figuring it out.

After Sospis, there was one last "col" to climb- albeit not much of a climb. It only gained 300M up to 706M and was a quick 45min from town. After than, it was a super fun flowing downhill dropping the 706M down to the sea.

Menton- on the Mediterranean Sea

As I approached into town, I literally just kept on riding straight ahead until the road dead-ended into the beach. At that point I ran across the beach to grab two big handfuls of Mediterranean water to splash into my face. After 2 weeks and 11 mountain passes, I've made it to back to the sea! 

In total, my "mountain stages" entailed 6.5 days (including one rest day) w/ 311mi and 41,300ft of vertical gain. Not too shabby! My perspective on road rides in the mountains will never be the same- this is the stuff of dreams: impossibly built roads on impossible cliffsides, snakey switchbacks up endless glaciated bowls, slugging up through tiny mountain villages where you can smell & hear the families eating their dinners, ripping down through those same villages at 45mph where it needles down to one lane from back when they never thought about having 2 lanes of traffic when they built their houses 300+yrs ago. I love the Rockies and Colorado... but we ain't got nuthin' like this back home

The Big Climbs, Pt. V: Cime de la Bonnette [7/20 - 66mi, +8440ft]

Woke up early and tried my best to pack up before I disturbed the mosquito masses and headed down into the village of Jausers for a pre-ride coffee and croissant. Today is the "Route de la Bonnette: La plus haute d'Europe" which I take to mean the "highest road in Europe." Hot diggity, here I thought the Galibier was tough! Steeled for an epic climb to 2802M, I'm kind of feeling like I've got the routine down to a science now: find an easy gear, pedal, admire the views, pedal, admire the views, repeat. All the popular cycling climbs are nicely signed with a marker every kilometer than tells you a) current elevation, b) km to the top, and c) the avg grade for the next km. It's a nice way to gradually tick off the distance and elevation... but sometimes hard to stomach the math when you realize that you've been climbing for 3 hours and aren't even halfway to the top.

Up top the views were simply endless:

Cime de la Bonnette at 2802M.... highest road in Europe!!!

The other day I spied 3 other touring guys while grinding up the Col du Galibier, then met them at the campground that night in Briancon. Today we ran into each other near the top of the Bonnette- 4 morons with full gear on the top of the world! [this photo is a good example of why I prefer to use the self-timer on my camera, rather than ask some moron to snap a photo. Seriously, how can people possibly take such an awfully composed photo?!? Do you really need to cut off our feet so our faces are centered?!?!!!  ....but I digress]

Scary fast dropping down the valley on the other side, then a pretty decent headwind whipping up the valley as I dropped way down to below 500M. No rest for the weary, as there are still 3 more climbs to come on my journey to the sea. I planned on pushing a bit up the next one, the Col du Saint Martin and find another free campsite somewhere along the way. However, these canyon walls were so steep that there was literally no where flat enough to lie down, and it wasn't high enough elevation to gain the treeline. Luckily as it started to get too dark to safely ride, I stumbled across a municipal campground and set up for the night. Exhausted, I'd made it 3/4ths of the way up the climb in the process! One more day, one quick morning summit, one big climb and one piddly 'hill' on the docket for tomorrow...

The Big Climbs, Pt. IV: Col d'Izoard & Col de Vars [7/19 - 52mi, +7400ft]

Yesterday was a partial rest day poking around Briancon, the "highest city in Europe" at 1040M (about 4000ft.) The ancient medieval section is a crazy fortified village perched on the edge of a cliff far above the valley floor. It's replete with huge stone walls, moats, watchtowers and giant gated entryways nicely preserved from the olden days before the modern town sprawled out into the valley.

Briancon

In the evening I got a head start up the next big climb to the Col d'Izoard and puttered up the first 5 or so miles and found a nice free campsite next to the mountain stream. In the morning it was back to work up switchbacks that literally double back upon themselves.

From the top looking back:

Col d'Izoard at 2360M

A nice long descent down to another valley at about 1000M, then right back up again to tackle the Col de Vars.

Did a bit of walking around while taking a break at the second summit of the long day.

Col de Vars at 2109M

Bombed back down another lengthy screaming downhill and found what I thought would be a nice free campsite for the night in a National Forest near the river... but it was infested with midwest-caliber mosquitoes... too late in the day to find an alternative, I donned my full rain gear (since I have no insect repellent) while cooking a quick dinner and retired immediately to the safety of my tent. Tomorrow awaits the biggest climb of them all so far... better get some rest!

The Big Climbs, Pt. III: Col du Telegraphe & Col du Galibier [7/17 - 49mi, +8200ft]

Wisely started much earlier today (again had to sneak out of the campground before the office opened to avoid paying 12euros to sleep for 6 hours) and began the long crawl up to the Col du Telegraphe. After yesterday, I have a better idea of what's in store for a climb in the French Alpes: sustained grades of 8%-10% for many miles, gradually whittling away the meters up to the top. Today I actually met another touring cyclist on the way up- a Spaniard who spoke a bit of English and was making his way back home to Barcelona.

From here you lose about 500M down to the ski village of Valloire, where I took a long lunch and coffee break before setting out to tackle the beast that is Col du Galibier. There are a massive amount of cyclists riding these roads, along with plenty of motorcycles, RVs ("caravans" in French) and of course cars. The drivers are all really good: very courteous to cyclists and very confident behind the wheel. With all the blind switchbacks and cliffhanging road, it's nice to feel like your surrounded my competent and confident motorists. Every so often there are roadside trash bins designed specifically for cyclists to toss their energy-supplement wrappers into (although the roadside is still littered with trash... get a clue, roadies!)

 The Col du Galibier was the first ever mountain climb introduced into the Tour de France, and is still a legend today- one of the very highest passes the Tour has ever climbed. There is a monument to the late, great climbing legend Marco Pantani along the way (never mind that he was doped to the gills and eventually died of a cocaine overdose... he's still a badass.)

After hours in the saddle suffering one slow pedal stroke after another, you occasionally turn to look at where you've been... and you understand just why this has seemed so tough:

Col du Galibier approach from the east

I was headed to Briancon, and if you note the sign that's 35km away.... and aside from a couple of soft-pedal rollers, it was all downhill... for 23miles!!! These descents are crazy, and crazy fun. The roads are so steep you quickly accelerate to upwards of 40mph, then have to slow down to 10mph for a hairpin switchback that you really, really do not want to overcook. 

dropping off the Col du Galibier

On many of these roads are the traditional painted messages left by Tour fans cheering on their favorite pro racers. These are the roads that all the legends have ridden up and down, many many times faster than me but without the luxury of stopping to snap a photo.

On the way down, I blew through the Col de Lauteret... which required no climbing on my part but is another major pass coming from the western valley. I don't know if it's fair to add that to my bag of Cols or not... and anyway it's just a measly 2058M  :)

Into Briancon for the night and a day of rest tomorrow, then tackling another round of serious climbs following the "Route de Grandes Alpes" on my way to the Mediterranean Sea in Nice. The fun's only half over!

The Big Climbs, Pt. II: Col du Glandon & Col de la Croix de Fer [7/16 - 48mi, +6500ft]

Off to a bit of a late start as I waited for my tent to fully dry from last night's drizzles, and then it was up and up and up. I knew the road followed a river up the valley... silly me was thinking that would mean a fairly mellow grade. These are The Alpes you fool! The scenery here is just jaw-droppingly astounding- I've always been spoiled by living right next to the lovely Rockies and getting out to play in them most every weekend. But the Alpes are a whole different level of mountain spectacle: soaring vertical faces, jagged peaks, endless valleys and sooo much above treeline. A truly amazing place to ride a bike.

After about 17mi of steady climbing (and a couple descents that you curse- since you'll just have to regain the elevation anyway) I made it to the top of the Col du Glandon at 1924M... about 4000ft higher than the valley I departed from today. The Glandon is another legendary climb of the Tour (these all are) with a monument up top. The crest was just a half mile off the route to the next one, so this may be a case of "Col Bagging."

Col du Glandon, 1924M

From here is was just another brief stint to the highest point of the day, the Col de la Croix de Fer at 2067M.

approaching the Col de la  Croix de Fer, 2067M

you gotta wonder if these cows know how good they have it?!?

From up top, it was a smokin' descent all the way back down to a different valley floor at 700M for a 10mi pedal through the valley where I stopped for the night in St. Michael de Maurien and rested up for a harder day to come. I can't get enough of these mountains!

The Big Climbs, Pt I: Aple d'Huez > Allemond [7/15 - 27mi, +4000ft]

At the campground last night, I ended up next to a couple of friendly British tourers who'd just completed a short 5 day circuit up and down some of the highest Cols ("passes" in English) in the area. They invited me over to share their dinner (chicken curry w/ fresh veggies... far better than I typically cook for myself!) and we had a great chat all evening. I decided to essentially copy most of their itinerary and instead of leaving my bags behind in town, tackle the climbs fully loaded and make a multi-day journey up and down the high terrain.

For those who don't follow the Tour at all, the Alpe d'Huez is probably the most legendary climb of the race's entire history. Although the Tour did not tackle it this year, most years it does and is always the biggest crowd favorite. The road snakes around 21 numbered switchbacks up the face of a seemingly vertical mountain to reach the base of the (similarly named) ski resort at the top.

The fastest pro climbers can do these 14.4km in just over a half an hour.... I wasn't too far off their pace, eventually clocking in at two and a half! Bear in mind that just one (of four) of my panniers weighs more than their entire bike  :)

looking down at the Alpe d'Huez road and the valley where the fun begins

And finally, to the official finish line that the Tour observes... little fanfare but a tremendous sense of accomplishment:

After a celebratory beer (at a place aptly named Indiana Bar) I briefly descended and caught a traverse across the face and down to the little town of Allemond for the night, back on the valley floor and gearing up for some bigger yet climbs to come.

Tour de France stage 14 [Col du Granier: 7/13]

I made the climb up in about an hour and 45min, getting to the summit in plenty of time to wander around the massive crowds and take in the spectacle of a true Tour climb. Fans everywhere, some dressed up in funny costumes, waving flags, milling around with picnics and wine while we all awaited the racers. Super good vibes up here at 1240meters, and the scenery wasn't bad either!

Col du Granier summit- the second Category 1 climb of today's stage

I made friends with a group of local French cyclists who invited me to share their in food & wine- one guy in particular spoke pretty good English and we had a nice time talking about cycling, the Alpes, and how pitiful my French pronunciation is.

A fellow Cadel Evans fan was more dedicated to the cause than myself:

Finally the racers tore up the hill like it was a false-flat with a tailwind... they were seriously moving! Here's the breakaway with my hometown team Garmin's David Millar in the mix- he would go on to win the stage today:

And my favorite Cadel Evans back towards the front of the main group. He's riding ok but not in contention for the Podium this year, certainly not a repeat of his victory last year...

Yep folks, perhaps the fans are more entertaining than the racers:

Being fairly far into the today's stage and being the second hard climb, the racers were pretty spread out by the time they passed us and it took a good 25 minutes for them all to go by. Much better bang for the buck up at the top of the Col!

After it all wound down, I made a screaming descent down the route that the racers had ascended and followed the rollers all the way into Grenoble. It's a neat city flanked on all sides by towering mountains and has a really good energy. No camping nearby, however, so I pedaled 15mi northeast of town for the night and the next day into Le Bourg de Oisans.... at the foot of the legendary Alpe d'Huez- ready to tackle the serious climbing to come.

Le Bourg de Oisans.... a French cycling mecca