When Steven left me at Manchester Airport I felt more like Paddington Bear than going to climb the Col de la Croix de Fer, but there would be no Cross of Iron mountain for me this year, we were going higher this time!

Sproatley or Geneva?

The tags on my bags didn’t say Peru, they said Geneva and I didn’t have marmalade sandwiches wrapped up in a handkerchief, I had energy bars and gels. However marmalade sandwiches probably do taste better. Steven didn’t hang around long as he had to be back to ride the last TT at Sproatley. Funny — Sproatley or Geneva, surely there is no contest. The plane was delayed by one and a half hours but I wasn’t bothered, I was going a day early. I was collected by Paul from ‘Forever Morzine’ at Geneva Airport and transferred to the Petit Dru hotel in Morzine. The others in our party would arrive the following day so I had a night on my own which was fine.

 

The following morning I put my bike together and went for a warm-up 40m ride taking in the Cols de Grand Taillet and Corbier, which tops out at 1230m, where I stopped for lunch in the cafe on the summit. I was eating my ham and cheese baguette when a bulletin came on the French 24 hour TV news telling us that the third hostage had been killed. You don’t have to speak French when that sort of horror is put in front of you. The cafe fell silent for a moment and then the locals returned to their cheese and wine.

 

The valley below the Grand Taillet was real chocolate box stuff, I fully expected to see Heidi with her sheep! I met the rest of the party in the hotel bar before dinner. There was Neil who had flown from Dubai just for the experience but in particular to pay his respects to Tommy and Marcoon their respective mountains. Then there was father and son duo, another Neil and Andrew. It later transpired that Neil had rowed for Cambridge in the boat race and had represented Scotland in the Commonwealth Games at Hockey, and England at rowing. In Bejing he had worked for the British Olympic Committee alongside Boris but he reckoned that he hadn’t done a lot of cycling. Andrew was an IT graduate and looked as if he spent most of the time in the gym.

 

Then there was me. Steven had not wanted me to come as I had seemingly been pedalling with only one leg all year, but such is the pull of the Alps. The two guides were Callum from Glasgow and Adam from Patrington, yes Patrington!

 

We would receive updates on the Scottish referendum during the week via Callum’s sister. For the record Callum would have voted ‘No’ had he been allowed to vote. This prevented a possible awkward situation as it appeared no one in our party wanted independence for Scotland. In any case no one had asked me if I minded the UK being broken up!

 Monday – Morzine to La Clusaz

Monday dawned and after breakfast we rode uphill out of Morzine via la Cote d’Arbroc, les Gets and Taninges to the start of the Col du Joux Plane at Samoens. After 12km and 980m of climbing at an average gradient of 8% and a maximum of 13 we reached our lunch stop at the summit cafe Relais des Vallees at 1691m, from where the views were spectacular. It had been a long hot climb and if you consider that Alpe d’Huez is 14km with similar gradients, this climb had been a tough start to our week.

 

After lunch ( if you haven’t already realised this trip was as much about eating and drinking as it was about climbing mountains but in my book the two go together rather well) we descended the Joux Plane and headed up and over the Columbiere to our overnight stop at La Clusaz. The Columbiere; starting in Marnaz, is 17 km long with an average gradient of 6.1%, climbing 1050 mtrs to Its summit at 1618 mtrs above sea level. This climb is sign posted as being on the “Route des Grande Alpes” and it surely is with views across to the Pointe Percee at 2162m. I rode this climb with Paul sat on my back wheel for the most part. I knew he was there, not by his constant chatter but by his heavy breathing. I thought on more than one occasion that he was about to take his last but apparently that’s how he is and seems OK about it. Finally towards the top he dropped back and the silence was deafening! By the time we reached the hotel we had done 62 miles with 2500m of climbing.

 

The Hotel Christiana in La Clusaz can’t have been very inspiring as I’ve forgotten all about it although I have to say each hotel on this trip were good.

Tuesday – Feissions sur Isere to St. Jean de Maurienne

The following day; Tuesday, was going to be no walk in the park either. However to fit all these mountains into a week the minibus was used to get parts of the transition stages out of the way before we hit the climbs. And so it was that we drove through very pleasant countryside and over several mini cols; which would have tested our legs anyway, via Albertville to Feissions sur Isere, only a stone’s throw from the bottom of the Col de la Madeleine. I’d done this beast before and knew what to expect, only it was nice and sunny today and not cold and wet as last time.

 

Andrew was soon bored with our chit chat and off he went, bare armed up to his shoulders with ear phones plugged in. However after a few kilometres the road was shut due to a recent land slip (a frequent occurrence in these parts as is often evidenced by steel netting stitched to the rock faces with resin anchored bolts) and Andrew was sat there waiting. French highway engineers were taking their time clearing the road and apparently having a great time throwing loose rocks off the mountain onto the road below to be cleared up by an uninterested labourer. Another workman shrugged his shoulders and said 10 minutes when asked how long it was likely to be.

 

There was nothing for it but to raid the Haribo box, eat bananas (the pears weren’t yet soft enough), energy and chocolate bars. After half an hour or so our path was clear and we set off. I climbed the rest of the way with Paul and “Dubai” Neil. I was in no rush and wanted to take some photos this time so occasionally I would stop and then catch them up. However as we climbed; from Neil’s point of view, Paul had a bad habit of pointing out the profile of the road especially when the white mini bus could be seen going up some ridiculous incline. Eventually Neil had had enough of this, stopped to put his ear phones in and rode to the summit alone listening to some obscure tunes.

 

Lunch at 1993m altitude was spaghetti Bolognese, lovely. We descended to La Chambre 20km away where I was nearly taken out by a Citroen Picasso when doing about 40 miles per hour. After discussing the incident when I probably worked up my part more than was strictly correct we filled our bottles with l’eau de potable (drinking water to you) from the fountain in the square and set off up the Col du Glandon.

 

This is one of my favourite climbs. It has a steady gradient but like many Alpine roads has a sting in the tail as it ramps up towards the crest at 1924m. I rode this climb with Adam and he told me how he had grown up in Patrington, went to university in the Midlands where he got a job but had decided to see some of the world before buying a house and settling down. There was just enough time when we reached the top to take in the view, take the requisite photos at the altitude sign, put on some warm clothes and descend the way we had come up only minutes before. This descent is neutralised during The Marmotte sportive and for good reason. The road is narrow in places with many sharp bends and huge drop-offs. Still, it was good fun but you have to remember that on trips like these it is not the Tour de France and the roads are still open to traffic.

 

We all arrived in La Chambre in one piece and continued on to St. Jean de Maurienne; a smallish industrial town on the valley floor, where we quickly found the Hotel du Nord. You’ve got to feel sorry for the guides on days like these. We’d ridden about 100km and Callum and Adam had encouraged us up 3100m of mountain and they then had to unload the minibus, sort out the bikes, have a shower and get ready to “entertain” us over dinner in the evening. Fortunately they are both pretty easy going, obviously enjoy what they do and our group was a friendly one with no egos. I expect however that it’s not always like that.

Wednesday – St. Jean de Maurienne to Venosc

Wednesday was going to be another big day and so no one was late to bed. Bright and early; well earlyish, at 9.00am we set off and rode the 10 miles along the valley to the start of the Col du Telegraphe in St. Michel de Maurienne. We stopped first in an obscure car park to ready ourselves for the assault. Towering over us we could see the antenna near the summit 850m above us but 11.8 km away via the serpentine road we were going to follow.

 

Soon we were on the climb which in parts was like riding the pave of Paris Roubaix. The road surface had been removed hopefully to be replaced presumably for the Tour coming next year. I rode some of this climb with a dentist from California. He was quite mad but good company. He was on a three week tour with friends taking in as many climbs as they could fit in. At the top we regrouped for the photos before the short (4km) descent to a cafe stop in Valloire and onto the Galibier for the main climb of the day. The summit was reached after a gruelling 18kms, mostly into a head wind. I saw my first marmot this time up and to be honest up until then I didn’t know what a marmot is, a small furry mammal, a bit like a beaver.

 

We also passed the Pantani memorial about 2km from the top on the right hand side of the road. It’s in two parts of glass and metal which only come together for a split second as you pass by.

 

It was very cold and misty at the top at 2646m so no incredible view down the valley towards Valloire this time. Instead it was warm clothes on before the short but fast 500m descent to a cafe where there is a memorial to Henri Desgrange, the creator of the Tour de France in 1903. After a late lunch it was back on the bikes for the 45km descent down the Col du Lautaret. This is where we needed our lights for the several tunnels on route. I wasn’t looking forward to the last one but fortunately it’s been rebuilt and has had lighting fitted since my last visit.

 

Indeed our progress along this road was delayed by several sections of road works along the route of this pass which sees rivulets, waterfalls and reservoirs. Shortly after this last tunnel we turned left off the road to Bourg d’ Oisans and up a short climb to our Hotel au Bon Accueil at Venosc. It was like an old farm house or hunting lodge with a corrugated iron roof surrounded by rock cliffs seemingly in the middle of nowhere.

 

The hotel is run by a Dutch family who are clearly cycling fanatics. They have converted an old barn into a cycling museum. Inside you can’t see the roof for trade team and winners’ jerseys hanging from the rafters. The walls are covered in newspapers stuck to the surface and varnished over featuring headlines and articles from the time of Merckx to the present day.

 

We had come another 60 miles with 2500m of climbing. There was a party of South Africans in the hotel also staying the night before climbing Alpe d’Huez the following day. They consumed considerably more alcohol than us that night and clearly paid for it on the mountain in the morning. Our three course evening meal was wonderful in those unusual surroundings as we discussed; amongst other things, the possible outcome of the referendum the day after. Our Dutch hosts really looked after us possibly thinking that it would be our last supper!

 

Thursday – Alpe d’Huez, Izoard and Col de Vars to Jausiers

It was Thursday morning and it was raining proper Alpine; soak you through, wet rain.It was wet, very wet! We descended into Bourg d’Oisans and started the climb of the 21 hairpins that are Alpe d’Huez. Some say the first two are the hardest. Don’t believe it, all of the 14km and 1128m gain in elevation to the finish line in the ski resort at the top are hard and; in the rain, quite miserable. We had our photograph taken on the podium at the top and rushed into a cafe to get warm and change into dry clothes.

 

The cafe for some reason has an American Indian theme with the lady owner dressed in Red Indian clothing. Why at the top of arguably the most famous mountain road in France is there a cafe decked out in American Indian regalia? In spite of this we were still able to buy souvenirs in the form of replica road stones which famously count down the kilometres on French roads. As it was still raining we loaded the bikes onto the minibus roof, descended the Alpe and drove to the cafe at the top of the Lautaret.

 

After consuming more of a cyclist’s staple diet; pasta and coffee, we drove to Briancon and the base of the Izoard. Briancon is a nice place which likes to boast that it is the highest city in Europe at about 1360m. We climbed about 1000m in 21km to 2360m where there is a monument to completing the road between the North and Southern Alps in 1936. There’s also a small cycle museum and a memorial to Fausto Coppi and Louison Bobet.

 

We descended the southern side of the pass and then travelled via the Col de Vars for our overnight stop at the Chateau des Magnans in Jausiers. The Izoard was OK but mostly uninspiring whereas the Vars; from the minibus, looked much more interesting.

 

Our chateau for the night stood on a ridge overlooking a wide valley. I was roomed in a modern extension which included a restaurant and pool. As it was the end of the season no evening meals were being served so instead we were taken next door to a small family-run guest house where we couldn’t have been looked after any better.

Friday – Jausiers to Mont Ventoux

A misty Friday morning dawned and much to Callum’s relief he was still British. The results were in and the Scots had decided to stay in the UK. Whatever the Scots had decided we had more important things to do. We rode to Barcelonette and the start of the Col de la Bonette which tops out at 2802m. It’s the highest paved through route in Europe and the highest tarmaced road in France. The original summit was at 2715m but the French decided they wanted the highest road in Europe so they hauled a load of rock and tarmac up the mountain and constructed a steep loop around the Cime de la Bonette and added a whole 87m to its altitude. The climb is 23km long and rises 1660m. Again it’s a gradual climb which passes through grassy woodland up to Lunar rock with a maximum gradient of 14% in the last few kilometres. On the way up we passed one of Napoleon’s hill forts and some bunkers from the second World War.

With a bit of refurbishment they’d make great Alpine residences. As visibility at the summit was only a few metres it was too dangerous to descend on our bikes so we drove back down to Jausiers in the minibus and onto Bedoin via a coffee stop in the walled town of Sisteron. Because of its altitude the risk of bad weather makes it too difficult to regularly include the Bonette in the Tour de France. Our day on the mountain was one of those days which could have ended in chaos or worse had we been in a peloton of 200 riders. A few miles from Bedoin we stopped at a viewing point with a large compass indicating distances and directions to places all over France and beyond. We should have been able to see the observatory on the top of the Ventoux after all it was bright sunshine. Unfortunately it was shrouded in mist but we knew where it was and it was enough to send a shiver down our spines.

 

As we drove through Bedoin with our bikes on the roof the people outside the cafes in the late September sun knew why we were coming and we knew why they were there also.Everyone was there for the same thing… to conquer the Giant of Provence that is Ventoux! Our hotel for our last night on tour was very modern, all very “Feng Shui” with Tour-related pictures throughout. We had been told that our waiter for the evening would be very like Manuel from Faulty Towers.

 

The hotel was family-run and during a previous visit to the Hotel des Pins this waiter had unwittingly played the part very well. However he had obviously been tamed and although he was there only played a bit part this time. Sometime over dinner; probably after discussing the fate of Scottish First Minister Alex Salmond but, more than likely after a second bottle of the local red we hit on the idea of having a time trial up the mountain the following morning. Everyone was keen and start gaps were worked out based on the proportion of 1000m of ascent that each of us had covered (approximately) in an hour over the nine climbs we had done during the week.

 

After dinner, Paul, former rower Neil and I retired to the lounge for coffee and to look through the library of books about past legends of our sport. Paul convinced us to have a particular blend of green tea that he was partial to, to help us sleep before the big event. I can honestly say that it made no difference whatsoever! We were up early for breakfast at 7.15 am. The dining room was empty but quickly filled up with cyclists of all shapes and sizes fuelling up to wage war on the Giant. It was fine but cool, just right to climb 1603m with an average gradient of 7.5 % and a max of 10.5.

 

According to the calculations Dubai Neil would set off first up the 21.3 km mountain road and I would go 15 minutes later. A little later rower Neil would go and Andrew would go last. However Andrew; having slept on the idea, was now no longer quite so keen and he was going to ride with his father. This obviously changed things somewhat. Two individuals against a 2-up team time trial partnership.

 

Neil set off and Adam led him through the town to the start proper. He was away. Fifteen minutes seemed a lifetime. Adam had come back to guide me through Bedoin and we rode out of the town and started the climb. We could see the observatory at the summit and at that point it didn’t seem such a big deal, just the other side of those trees. Then after a few corners the observatory now appeared to be towering above us. Now it did seem a big deal!

 

We decided that Adam should go and catch Neil and keep him company and he was soon out of sight. I was now listening to some tunes on my ipod Shuffle and when Bon Jovi started to sing “we weren’t born to follow” I was on my way. Paul had passed me in the van which meant that Neil, Andrew and Callum were now on their way. I passed Paul, grabbed a gel and I was 3 minutes up on Dubai Neil and going OK. I passed Paul twice more before Chalet Reynard and further depleted the Haribo stock each time. I was still eating into Neil’s lead and I figured that I would catch him before the summit. I rounded the corner at Chalet Reynard where the road ramps up but my view of the mountain was obscured by fog. There was to be no iconic view and no photograph of the rock desert road up to the observatory.

 

I stopped at the Tom Simpson memorial with 1 km to go, filled a Palmares bottle with Ventoux Stone and placed it on the top step amongst any number of other bottles, caps and medals left in Tom’s memory. Other riders passed and saluted, said “hello” to Tom or doffed their crash hats until three riders I knew came out of the mist going like a steam train. It was Andrew, Neil and Callum in a line. There was no stopping, no doffing, no saluting, they were on a mission.

 

Andrew and Neil are new to cycling and its traditions. Had they known that they were “expected” to stop or pay their respects I am sure that they would have. Instead they sped off into the mist. I quickly put my camera away and raced off after them. One against three was never going to happen and we regrouped at the top. The mist swirled around the observatory but there were sufficient gaps for me to take some photos before we descended the 21 km to Malaucene and lunch.

 

After a quick look around the bike shops and town it was back to Morzine via a 5 hour drive in the mini bus. Our last night was in the Hotel Petit Dru. Over dinner the talk was of our adventure. Dubai Neil; it appears, will continue to ride his bike on the one and only cycle path by the side of an endless desert road and on a closed road circuit in 30 to 40 degrees and will probably return to the Alps as soon as he can. As for rower Neil and Andrew, I’m not sure. Neil; on the way back to Morzine, had suggested that he might like to do some LRVC races but by the evening his enthusiasm seemed to have diminished. Andrew obviously has talent but I’m not sure if he has the inclination to take it any further. I do hope that he does though. After breakfast on Sunday morning the others left for the airport. Adam went with them as he was going walk about in New Zealand for a few weeks before returning to work in the chalets during the ski season. As he is originally from Patrington we might see him on a club run next Spring. Callum was working, removing company logos from the hire bikes and vans and, as my flight wasn’t until the evening I had one more mountain to climb.

Sunday – Avoriaz

The Avoriaz goes straight up 960m out of Morzine for 14 km up to 1829m altitude at the ski station of the same name. Quite literally the place is a dump!

The very name comes from “ca ne vaut rien” meaning worthless — a little harsh maybe but true. **The Rapha guide book to the Great Road Climbs of the Northern Alpes describes it by saying that the gaunt main block of apartments looks like a prison complex from which the only escape would be to throw yourself out of one of the tiny windows into the abyss!!

The buildings; an assortment of apartments, ski lifts and car parks, are covered with cedar cladding, a material I hate with a passion whatever Kevin McCloud and his friends might say. It doesn’t go silver when left untreated; as they claim, it goes black and looks awful! When I arrived there the skies were darkening and a storm was a brewing. The place was deserted and I fully expected Lee van Cleef to come out and fight a duel with Clint Eastwood in a scene from ‘The Good, the Bad and the Ugly’. Anyway it was starting to rain so I left Lee and Clint to sort out their problems as I bid a hasty retreat down the Col to Morzine for a lunch of roast beef and Yorkshire puddings in a bar owned by a very nice man from somewhere just North of Lincoln!

It was about time to go back, not to darkest Peru but back home. The bike and bags were quickly packed, a quick shower and a wait in the hotel bar for Paul to pick me up for a transfer to Geneva airport. During the drive it transpired that we had more mutual friends from the cycling world back in England and I would wish them well next time I saw them. I’d met some great people, ridden 300 miles, travelled a total of about 750 miles around France and climbed around 48,615 feet or 14,732m over some of the most legendary mountains in cycling history. It had been wonderful.

** I’m sure Avoriaz is a really nice place in the dark or in the snow with all the lights on, maybe I caught it on a bad day!

My thanks to Paul, Adam and Callum from Forever Morzine for a great holiday and to both Neils and Andrew for being great sports and good company.

Richard Guymer
2014