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