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

To the Aples, dummy! Macon > Chambery [7/11>7/13 - 105mi]

After the Tour hubbub was so quickly over, I pedaled along the first section of their route into the countryside and continued south until it got dark, ending up at yet another ridiculous French campground. [So far, all French campgrounds have been flat grassy parks with people established there as if it's a summer cottage: RV trailers that have an extra room enclosed in canvas/plastic; there are swimming pools, restaurants, bars, grocery stores, food trucks, etc. Not my thing needless to say.] 

At this point, it was time for a serious reappraisal of my approach to France. I've been in a real funk mentally since arriving in Paris and it's not getting any better. Frustrated by boring scenery, the language barrier, a lack of interesting folks along the way and marginal weather, my mood is suffering and my physical ambitions are following suit.

So I have to change something, and quickly. My general plan was to trend down the wide valley between the Alpes and the Central Massif mountains, catching the Tour a couple more times and ending up in the Riviera. But that would all but guarantee more of the same boredom... and this is no way to spend a French cycling tour.

A little pondering and I'm asking myself "why am I not where I love to be: in the mountains?!?" Something I remembered Eszter re-posting on her blog a while back: "Don't worry about meeting people; do what you love to do and the people you want to meet will be there too." So I made the concise decision to head east from Lyon instead of south, get the heck out of this valley and into the French Alpes. I felt elated thinking about it, and relieved that my momentary lapse of reason had culminated with a bit of good judgment. It'll be hard pedaling in those mountains, for sure, but anything beats these dreadful rollers through the farmland and boring little villages.

Didn't take many photos along the way, suffice it to say I had a different agenda than on my mind. Lyon seemed like a neat old city and the people there came across as more friendly than in Paris. They were more willing to speak some English, too, which was helpful. I discovered I could take a train directly to Chambery and then climb up to catch the Tour at the top of the Col du Granier in the morning.... so I raced directly to the train station but missed the last train of the day by mere minutes. At this point, what I should have done was find a cheap hostel, check out Lyon for the night and catch the first train in the morning. Frazzled, what I did do was ride well into the night, another 40mi, sleep in essentially a ditch for a few hours, and catch that same early train from a little town along the route. Saved some cash this way, at least.

Anyway, by the next morning I was officially in the mountains! Feeling great and eager to tackle the the climb up to the Col du Granier (from the north) at 1230M in time to catch the Pros hit the summit from the east. There was a steady stream of roadies of all types & ages heading up the climb; every single one passed me- but I was the only fool with a full touring load going up the ~3000ft to the top. It was hard, it felt great! The hell with the wine country!!!

Tour de France stage 12 [Macon]

I woke up early and snuck out of the campground before the office opened (I have to take free camping however I can get it- not much space to set up in the countryside in these parts for gypsies like me to sleep) eager to see just how much commotion would be created by the Tour start today.

all plants & flowers!!

It was a bit on the disappointing side, to be honest. There was the whole entourage of semi trucks, awards stage, team cars & buses, vendors, sponsors, media and so on, but not much real enthusiasm in the air. Lots of local families out to mill around, but lacking in the crazed-cycling-fanatics department. This guy had a good rig, however:

One of the highlights was being able to stand between two Mavic neutral support cars- each one outfitted with about $20,000 worth of wheels & bikes to give to any racer who needs a spare. I need a spare, I think?

Before every stage in the Tour, there is a parade of all the main team sponsors. Each sponsor company has some crazy creative vehicles (think Oscar Meyer Wiener-Mobile on steroids) and toss out handfuls of samples or other swag. The locals were ravenous and literally climbing over each other just to get a stupid sample bag of cookies, maybe a cheap hat. I got pushed out of the way by some stupid rude kids, and retreated to the other side of the old bridge to await the rollout.

After a long wait, the fury began as all the team cars, Police motos, officials, and press vehicles sped by ahead of the Peleton. Very cool to watch them snake across the ancient bridge:

Being the first mile of so the entire group was still intact through the city: Yellow, Green, White and Polka Dot all up front whizzing by:

And then that was that. After a 105mi ride yesterday, 6 hours of waiting around this morning, the entire Peloton sped by in about 25seconds. And the old folks all went home to make dinner or something. I walked around the city for a couple of hours, hoping to find a cafe that was showing the rest of the stage (there's an HC climb today- surely where all the 'real' fans are at) but sadly sound several showing.... horse racing. And the extra-stupid carriage toting horse racing at that. Macon isn't much of a cycling town, and it shows. The most important road bike race in the world just started from here today, and you're showing horses pulling cute little buggies around in circles. Weirdos.

Boring Burgundy: Fountainblue > Macon [7/07>7/10 - 227mi]

On Mike's good advice, I opted to take the commuter train out of Paris instead of fighting another couple of hours through the 'burbs. Fountainblue is the original vacation estate of the monarchy, before the more famous Versailles was built. It's a monstrosity- 1200 room mansion, sprawling gardens, lakes and private hunting grounds (at the time, stocked with game.) Now it's a tourist attraction, but I saved my 10euros and skipped the tour. I knew I'd just scoff at the excesses anyway, but did have the pleasure of eating lunch in the rain on the estate grounds.

Not a whole lot to say about following the Loire River south: rolling hills of wheat, corn, grapes, cattle and the occasional sunflower field, it got boring fast. Nifty old-world villages every 5-15km, which are cool at first but quickly becomes a "you've seen one and you've seen them all" type of thing. And being in the midst of a monsoon cycle, it rained intermittently the entire time- never terribly hard but just enough to keep me jumping in and out of my rain gear every hour or so. 

One of the mildly interesting aspects is the system of canals- built long ago to make rivers navigable in either direction via a series of locks, many have pedestrian/cycle paths alongside. They made for pleasant pedaling sans vehicles, although you then didn't go through the town centers or have the aid of signage to know where you were at. I was very curious to discover this, however: a canal bridge going over a river. Pretty cool to pedal the sidewalk next to a waterway, with a river rushing below.

My last day of this leg necessitated a huge 105mi push to get to Macon by Tuesday night in order to see the Tour de France stage 12 begin there in the morning. The easy roller turned into really hard rollers and the last 40mi was super tough short climbs into the vineyard regions. I rolled in after dark, snuck into the municipal campground and eagerly awaited the Tour events.... knowing that most all the world's best roadies were sleeping nearby was an peculiar feeling.

The city of love, rain, and confusion: Paris [7/05-7/07]

Deciding that I could save some money and just ride into the city from CDG Airport, I assembled my bike in the parking garage, left the box behind and set onto the expressway towards downtown Paris. A vast change from lonesome Iceland, riding alongside the 6 lane expressway was kind of sketch but at least the shoulder was wide. Almost immediately I started getting what I thought were congratulatory honks and salutes from truckers (I'd heard that the French love bikes so I thought they were cheering me on.) Eventually when the traffic backed up and I was alongside a boxtruck, the driver yelled something in French... responding to my confusion, he first made "pedalling" motion with his hands, follwed by the "you can't do that here" indication. So I guess the honks were not so much cheering me on, rather telling me to get the heck off this highway.

It was another 10min before I got to an exit ramp, after which I immediately got disoriented and lost. The free map I'd picked up from Avis Rental Car was little help, but I eventually found my way to the Saint Daniel area where an Office de Tourisme provided a slightly better map. After my first French cafe coffee and a Nutella crepe from a street market, it was another hour through the outskirts into downtown.

in a city this old, efficiency has evolved

Having only an address recomended by my ex-patriot friend Mike, I found the hostel I was hoping for and to my great luck they'd had a cancellation and therefore a bed for me for the night. The next day I'd have to transfer to another of their locations in the same neighborhood, but paid for them both and felt relieved that my city lodging was accounted for.

only my 2nd night in a bed in 5 weeks!

When I set out on my (now unloaded) bike towards a street market for lunch, I found the vendors packed up just as it started raining... really hard. I made a few quick turns to seek shelter under a parking area, again disorienting myself, and proceeded to spend the next several hours completely lost although always within a mile or so of my hostel. I simply could not make sense of this city: no streets meet at right angles, there is no grid whatsoever, and the street names change after almost every intersection. So you can be literally on the correct street, but it doesn't have the name you are looking for... so it was a long, wet frustrating afternoon.

at least someone's happy

The next day I elected to ditch the bike and stick to slower paced walking, hoping to maintain my bearing as I wandered around some of the main attractions: Notre Dame, the Louvre, Champs Elysses, the Eiffel Tower, Champs de Arms, and so on. It stormed again while I was milling around the Eiffel Tower and gawking at the tourists waiting literally hours to get into the tower. Waiting with tourist just ain't for me, so I was happy to keep walking once the rain subsided.

Overall, Paris is an amazing city- old, sophisticated, classy, confusing, wet, and in my currect state of mind I found it to be overwhelming and lonely. It'd be a graet place to come back to with a companion and a bunch of money to spend. A highlight was seeing my old Boulder friend Mike, who's lived here for the past 3 years. It was great to catch up, to hang out with him and his english-speaking friends, and see the first familiar face in a month.

Into the Tourist Den: Golden Circle > Keflavik [6/30-7/04 - 230mi]

I left Gardur's farm overloaded with frozen Icelandic meat products and headed towards the famous tourist destination of The Golden Circle. Near enough to Reykjavik for convenient day trips, the area is swarming with tourists and their large coach busses. Alas, the items on most of their checklists are Geysir (yes, a geyser- but the english word "geyser" stems from the Icelandic location.) Geysir itself only spouts every hundred years or so, albeit very impressively; however there is a small fountain right next to it that spits up a flume of water every 10-20min. Nearby is Gullfoss, a massive 3-tiered waterfall. Deciding that I would avoid the masses and tempted by the idea of leaving my gear at the campsite for the 14mi round trip ride, I made the journey to Gullfoss around 1am and literally had the place to myself. Finally there is Pingvatn- Iceland's largest lake and the nearby village of Pingvalla that is the historic site of the first Parlimentary assembly in Europe.
Geysir had all the makings of a tourist trap, but Gullfoss was very impressive.

Gullfoss

 

 

 

And then it rained- amazingly, for almost a month in Iceland I had avoided the rain except for a few brief showers. Today was not so lucky and I rode for hours in a cold steady rain. Despite this, I detoured 12mi extra to see Pingvatn. As you can see, the view was tremendously worthwhile:

Another day riding along the southern coast out to Grindlavik, I found a fantastic campsite perched on the cliffs above a black sand cove and listened to the crashing waves as I cooked up Gundar's shark fillets for a late night dinner.

near Grindlavik

My final day led me to the famous Blue Lagoon Hotspring Resoprt, which they are quick to point out is ranked as one of the 25 Wonders of the Wolrd by National Geographic, with prices to match.
ljgh

outside Blue Lagoon... you'll have to see inside for yourself.... if you dare

The entire experience felt like being part of a sci-fi movie: after ponying up the $45 entry fee, they give you a microship encoded bracelet that is both your locker key and expense account for whatever fantastic goods and services you want to indulge in. Massage? Beauty products derived from their silica mud? An overpriced beer in the pool from the Tiki Bar? Have at it all, just scan your wrist....

The surroundings were just as eery- turquoise blue pool backed by jagged black lava speckled hills, a steamy geothermal powerplant off to the side, hoards of people soaking while their faces are caked with the white silica skin elixer. I couldn't decide if this was paradise or a high-end concentration camp. But if you go all the way to Iceland, you kinda have to go to the Blue Lagoon.

I made it out alive and back to my original campground near the Keflavik airport to retrieve my bike box and pack up for the next phase of my trip.

goodbye Iceland, you have sure been good to me!