Now We're Back

So that's it for this year's Alpine trip.

It seems the right time to start a new blog, covering riding back in the UK. There was only really one thing I could call it. Thanks to Angela, you can follow the continuing story at Fatman Returns.

Where We Stayed

We stayed in two locations this year. Most of the time we were based at Cycling Ascents in Bourg d'Oisans. Kevin and Delphine have set up the perfect location for cyclists. Kevin has an encyclopaedic knowledge of the rides in the area, and is no slouch in the weekly Alpe d'Huez time trial. As well as a modern, well laid out, bed and breakfast establishment, there is secure bike storage and space to do maintenance as well as a bike stand and tools. Breakfast is a communal and typically French affair and a great chance to talk with the fellow cyclists also staying there.

The location, on the outskirts of Bourg d'Oisans is perfect. It's easy to get into town for shopping or dinner, and the local roads offer an excellent warm up before riding up Alpe d'Huez, which starts just outside the town.

All in all, highly recommended!

In Briancon we stayed at the Hotel le Mont Prorel. This is a traditional, small French hotel, run by a couple from Southampton. It's in a great location near the centre of the town. Once again, there is an excellent French breakfast buffet.

Winding Down

With the rides completed, we decided to have a really easy, relaxed day today, doing a little sightseeing in Briancon's old town. There was quite a lot of rain overnight, and the weather looked grey and threatening at breakfast. But by the time we were ready to go up, the skies were clearing and the sun was making yet another appearance.

In a final strange coincidence, having hardly seen any other Wilier bikes while we've been in the Alpes, odd since Italy is so close here, one of the other guests in the hotel has an Izoard! It's actually an XP. He and a friend are on a whistle-stop tour of the region. They are cycling the Izoard today, then heading for an early bus to Grenoble tomorrow morning on the way back to London.

We drove up to the old town. The approach road is very steep. I wouldn't want to cycle up it. Finding the pay car park full, we started a random tour of the town, but in less than 50 metres had found an apparently free car park with space in it.

We spent the morning walking round the town and its walls and fortifications, and taking a few photos.

A rather nice bridge linking parts of the walls of the town

Ingenuity in using the geography and the local materials is everywhere

The parish church still dominates the old town's skyline

The fortifications, including arrow slits, are a reminder of the importance of this site in guarding the route between Italy and France

The streets are very steep

We had a very pleasant lunch in one of the few flat areas of the town, then headed down to buy supplies for the trip home, which starts tomorrow. Shopping at lunch time is a delight. There was hardly anyone in the supermarket.

So that's about it. There is just the packing up to do this afternoon before loading the car and driving back to Langres for our overnight stop tomorrow.

It's been quite a trip!

Reflections

I've just totted up a few numbers from the last couple of weeks of riding.

• I covered just shy of 600 kilometres. 
• I climbed nearly 14,000 meters, which is over 1.5 times the height of Everest.
• I expended nearly 18,000 calories while riding. I'm pretty sure this is accurate as it's based on data from my power meter. It just goes to show how efficient cycling is, since this is not a lot of energy when compared with the average intake for a male, of 2500 calories per day. I rode on 10 days in total.
• My maximum speed while descending, naturally, was a shade under 65 kilometres per hour.
• In total, I turned the pedals 110,647 times.

Izoard to the Power 4

So this was it. The final ride of the entire trip, and the realisation of the concept that had sparked the whole enterprise. Today, I'd ride my Willier Izoard over its namesake, the Col d'Izoard.

The Tour de France has used this pass on many occasions, and in both directions. Since we were staying in Briancon, I'd decided to ride it from Guilestre back to Briancon. We set off bright and early to drive to Guilestre, over the Col d'Izoard so I could get a look at the road, and so that we could take some photos. The weather could not have been more perfect. Clear blue skies, and not a cloud to be seen.

The drive up from Briancon is steady. The road is wide and well engineered and the surface superb. We stopped a couple of times on the way up to take photos. The views from the top were spectacular. It's not as bleak as the top of the Galibier, even though it's almost as high. Trees line the route almost to the top. 

The view back down towards Briancon from the top of the Col d'Izoard. The building in the foreground is the Refuge Napoleon. It has a cafe.

The view towards Guilestre and Italy from the Col d'Izoard

After crossing the top of the pass, the road descends rapidly into the Casse Deserte. This barren landscape is dotted with amazing rock pinnacles. The rock here is quite different from that on the Galibier. It's very sandy. The Casse Deserte occupies quite a small area of the whole climb. Then again, after the Galibier, maybe everything else looks small!

The amazing rock formations of the Casse Deserte

After a short climb through the Casse Deserte the road descends quickly again until it crosses a wide Alpine valley through a number of villages. The final run into Guilestre is almost flat for many kilometres. More on that later.

Guilestre has a large market in the centre of town on a Monday. We were lucky to find a parking space, and even luckier to have retained our full complement of wing mirrors after an unbelievably stupid and rude French woman seemed determined to drive her Peugot through our Fiesta, rather than giving us 10 seconds to move out of her way.

I assembled the bike while Angela headed into the local supermarket to pick up some cakes and drinks. After a very high calorie Mille Feuille and a can of lemonade, I was ready for the off. After negotiating the lunch time traffic, and more pedestrians determined to have a cycling-related accident by inattention, I was soon heading away from town and up the valley of the river Guil, which gives Guilestre its name. Soon after leaving the town, the road heads into a gorge, hugging its side. It's narrow, and has a number of tunnels. It's incredibly picturesque, but also busy. At one point, an articulated truck laden with tree trunks made its way down past me. Fortunately I'd pulled over to take a photo at the time.

The barrage in the Guil river just above Guilestre. The road clings to the side of the gorge at this point. Next to the barrage, you can just make out the entrance to one of the tunnels on the road.

The road runs alongside the river for a number of kilometres, and hardly climbs at all. Progress is swift with gradients of only a couple of percent. This flat section is the primary reason for the average gradient of this climb being quoted as misleadingly low. Once the D902 turns away from the river, towards Arvieux, the gradients ramp up significantly. There is a lot of hard climbing ahead.

The road soon straightens as it crosses a wide Alpine valley. The gradients remain quite high though. One of the features of the Izoard is that its gradient is never constant for long. Get into a nice rhythm for 7% and within a few hundred metres you'll be at 8.4%. Gear for that and soon it will have kicked up beyond 9%, or back down to 4%. It's continually knocking you out of your rhythm. Don't believe the roadside gradient indications either. It may well be an average of 6.4% for the next kilometre, but you'll probably find a short section at 10% hiding in there!

Once the valley has been crossed, there is a series of hairpin bends and steep ramps to be negotiated as the road works its way up to the Casse Deserte. The ramps do lengthen just before it's reached. It's a hard section, but the tree line is not far away, and the goal is in sight. Just before the Casse Deserte is the most misleading cycling sign I've encountered in this entire trip. It claims that the next kilometre is flat. As I passed it my Garmin was reading a gradient of 6.8% and the road was kicking up. Of course, what actually happens is that as you reach the Casse Deserte, the road abruptly swings sharply downwards for another half kilometre or so delivering you to the last set of hairpins that lead up to the Col itself. This last set is not as hard as the Galibier. The warmer weather helped too, and soon I could see Angela perched on a rock waiting to record my arrival at the top of my last climb of this trip.

Making the final push for the top

Izoard to the power 4. One director of Izoard Consulting photographing another director of Izoard Consulting who has just got his Willier Izoard to the top of the Col d'Izoard.

The track up from Guilestre to the Col d'Izoard is available on Garmin Connect

The descent from the Izoard towards Briancon is superb. The road surface is almost new. There is a combination of hairpin bends, sweeping curves and straights that are a delight to descend. In no time, I had made the turn at Cervieres and was racing down the Cerveyette valley towards Briancon. I did have to check my progress sometimes so as not to break the speed limits in the villages I whizzed through on the way down.

And then it was into rush hour traffic in Briancon. It's easier with a bike, and without too much delay I was back at the hotel. Now it was my turn to wait for Angela, who had to get the car down from the Col and through that same traffic.

The track down from the Col d'Izoard to Briancon is available on Garmin Connect

The Easy Way Up

After yesterday's exertions, it was time for another rest day. The weather in Briancon was fabulous. We decided to take the cable car up to the top of mount Prorel, the peak above the town. The line runs in two sections, getting from Briancon at around 1200 metres to 2360 metres in under 15 minutes. That's about the same height gain as going over the Col d'Izoard. That should be tomorrow's adventure.

The very easy way up. The cable car station at the top of mount Prorel. Actually to get to the peak itself is a further steep climb on foot, but there are plenty of walks that don't require mountaineering skills too. 

The old, walled town of Briancon, above the newer developments. This view is from the intermediate cable car station.

The views from the top of mount Prorel are superb.

This is the road down to Briancon from the Col d'Izoard. With any luck I'll be arriving down it tomorrow afternoon.

The lake is part of another hydro electric scheme. It's called Lac Pont Baldy. It provides around 5 MW of power to Briancon and the surroundings.

It was from up here that I managed to get a shot of the top of the Galibier. That photo is now on yesterday's post.

The Big One - The Telegraphe and the Galibier

Having said our goodbyes at Cycling Ascents, we headed up the Col du Lautaret ready to drive over the Col de Galibier to Saint Michel-de-Maurienne, the town at the foot of the climb to the Col du Telegraphe. We remarked on the number of cyclists on the Col du Lautaret. They all seemed to have numbers on their bikes. Then we reached an illuminated sign saying that the Col de Galibier was closed! 

When we got to the top of the Lautaret, the Galibier was indeed closed, for a bike race. These are the signs that greeted us. 

A very helpful organiser explained that it would be closed to cars for another hour or so. There was nothing for it but to chill out and take some photos. The sky was clear and Les Ecrins put on a spectacular show for us.

The glacier above the Col du Lautaret

As good as their word, the organisers reopened the Galibier just before noon. We drove up, stopping to take lots of pictures on the way. In retrospect this may have been a mistake, as it delayed my departure from St Michel-de-Maurienne until nearly 2pm. That was to have some consequences later on.

We drove right to the top of the Galibier, avoiding the tunnel, to see the views.

The road up to the top of the Galibier, from the Col du Lautaret

The road down to Briancon from the Col du Lautaret, where, all being well, I should be heading later.

As we drove down from the Galibier, first to Valloire, then on to St Michel-de-Maurienne, I really did start to worry that I would not be able to do this ride. We seemed to be descending steeply for ever. Could I really get back over this by nightfall?

St Michel-de-Maurienne is a small industrial town without much to recommend it to the tourist. There is a car park right at the foot of the climb up to the Telegraphe, almost underneath the main A6 autoroute. There were already several cars with bike racks on them there. There was a loo, and drinking water. This was clearly the place.

I was still nervous as I readied the bike, loaded a couple of Clif bars and all the additional clothing I had available. Then I was off and climbing. It was a relief to end the anticipation, and feel the reality of two long climbs. I seemed to be moving ok, and my power, cadence and heart rate numbers were fine. The road has helpful markers every kilometre, showing the distance to go and the gradient. The only downside was that the local council had decided to strip the surface of about half the climb, presumably ready for resurfacing at the end of the summer. The result was the most unpleasant kind of vibro-massage imaginable, apart from proper Paris-Roubaix style pave. This was a heavy road!

Still, in not much more than an hour, I was at the top of the Telegraphe. Maybe I could do this after all. The hors d'oeuvres were over. Now for the main course.

Once again, the bike that got me to the top.

The view back down to Saint Michel-de-Maurienne from the Col du Telegraphe

The track up to the Col du Telegraphe is available on Garmin Connect

Leaving the Col du Telegraphe, the road heads down for several kilometres until it reaches Valloire. For people interested in cycling the Galibier, Valloire just gets in the way. There are lots of people and lots of traffic. Just grin and bear it. Oh, and be prepared to unclip at a moments notice as the tourists step in front of you!

The road heads up steeply as you leave the town. Once again, the kilometre markers are there to make you aware just how far it is to go and just how steep its going to get. But soon, you're free of the town and the people and able to get into a rhythm and marvel at the spectacular landscape you're pedalling through. The Galibier differs from some other climbs in that it's very open. You can see the road ahead snaking over the mountain. You can see just how far up you've come. It does have hairpins, and some sections that hit 10%, but in the main, it's a steady climb with breathtaking views.

I did have to stop a couple of times. Once was to take on some water, when the gradient had not relented enough to enable me to drink for what seemed like ages. The second was to add clothing as I got closer to the top. It was very cold up there. I'm not proud of what happened when I tried to restart after putting on my gilet and arm warmers. I'm still getting used to Look cleats, and do have trouble clipping in, especially on hills. I selected second gear, pushed off hard, but failed to clip my left leg. I took another mighty push with my right leg to keep momentum, shot diagonally across the road and did a wheelie, while still failing to clip in. I managed to keep going, and would like to apologise, to the French couple who had stopped to admire the view, for the loud English expletive which rent the clear, Alpine air. Luckily I didn't actually fall off and was able to make a slow-motion escape.

When I finally made it to the Valloire end of the Galibier tunnel, I'd just about run out of water. I stopped at the shop to buy some. There is no cafe here, so nothing for it but to push on over the top to the cafe on the other side. The last kilometre is a set of hairpins at nearly 10%, but was actually not as bad as I had feared. Seeing the final goal is half the battle.

The now obligatory picture of the bike at the top.

The road leading down to the Col du Lautaret.

The track from the Col du Telegraphe to the Col de Galibier is available on Garmin Connect

It was freezing at the top. The wind was blasting over the Col, and once I'd got my pictures, my only thought was getting down as fast as possible. It was now that my late departure really started to bite. The cafe at the Galibier was already closed. Nothing for it but to head down to the Lautaret. Never has 8 kilometres of descending seemed so unpleasant. My hands were frozen, and I was having difficulty controlling the bike. I shivered uncontrollably all the way down. I had to concentrate really hard. And when I got to the Lautaret, the cafe I've used before was also shut. Thankfully, the hotel was still open. I laced the hot chocolate I bought with sugar and sat in the sun for a while until the shivering stopped.

The track from the Col de Galibier to the Col du Lautaret is available on Garmin Connect

The problem now was that the road down to Briancon was in shadow. Nothing for it but another 15 kilometres of shivering descent, continually looking for the next patch of sunshine that might offer a little relief, followed by a blissful 12 more kilometres without a shiver. Each of the towns on the descent was another mild annoyance, but at least most of Briancon's traffic had dissipated by the time I arrived. I consulted the paper map I had showing the hotel's location. I turned down what should have been the right street and sailed straight past it. I was so cold and tired that I didn't even notice our car parked prominently in front of it. I stopped, and while pondering what to do, a lady appeared at my side. It was Angela, who'd spotted me and came to the rescue before I could pedal off and get really lost!

What a day. The Galibier is a spectacular climb. I wouldn't have missed it for anything.

The track from the Col du Lautaret to Briancon is available on Garmin Connect

Afterthought
The day after this ride, I was able to take a photo of the top of the Galibier from Mount Prerol, the peak above Briancon.

The road in the valley is the one leading to the Col du Lautaret. You can see the climb to the Galibier as a diagonal line running up the mountain in the distance from just above half way up the picture. On the original, suitably enlarged, the cafe at the Galibier tunnel, the tunnel entrance and the top of the pass itself are all clearly visible.