Les Dix Alpes (2014)

Part 1

By EAT MORE LARD

April 4^th, 2020

With the current COVID-19 pandemic, many of us have had to cancel plans and are effectively isolated in our homes. This year was to be the year I returned to Europe for a cycling trip through the Dolomites. Unfortunately, it was not to be so I thought I would share an old set of blog posts (from my old site) about my trip to the Alps in 2014 as a little pick me up for happier times!

The Dream

“It’s a wonderful release when you find it. When you discover that every step of the journey is the same. You can enjoy the first step and the last step and every step in between. They’re all just as important. Crossing the line is euphoric, of course, but that’s all there is. It’s short lived. After a couple of days you are back to taking single steps again”. Stevie the ferryman, Salcombe, South Devon.

I’ve always thought that the best days on the bike are the ones that are as much a journey, a voyage of discovery, as possible. Nothing beats the satisfaction of all day ramble whether ridden hard or just pottering. I’ve never been one to go chasing segments or sucking up the less interesting roads just because. For me riding a bike is about that time to decompress, to free the mind, to let it wander and soak up the world around it free from thought or daily life.

Despite the fact that vicariously, through any number of channels, we can all delve into any number of experiences from our homes, it is still possible to set yourself loose on a modern day odyssey, a release from the flow of the tide. A kind of grand tour of the Alps had been on my agenda for many years and the impending relocation to Europe was just the opportunity to finally get my teeth into one. As it turns out, Bike Dreams, a Dutch based cycle tour company, have been running Les Dix Alpes, a journey from the shores of Lake Como to the Mediterranean at Nice, for a few years now. It offers a magnificent opportunity to explore some of the grandest of the French cols but still leaves plenty unexplored for future European raids. If you want to get a real tasting plate of the Italian and French Alps, there are few easier ways to start.

The Prologue

Mark and I converged at Milan airport after two very different journeys – I’ll take 3 hours over 24 anytime, thanks - oh the joys of now living in Europe! We were arriving a day ahead of the tour start to take in some of the roads around Como. For me this was familiar territory after my trip last year and I was keen to show Mark how good the riding was going to be. After a lazy start, building our bikes over breakfast, we set out along the lake, heading north on the rollers for a coffee at Bellagio. Our targets for the days were the legendary climbs of the Ghisallo and the Muro di Sormano. Like last year, the weather was perfect, the legs warmed up and the coffee delicious. We were soon winding through the first of many switchbacks of the trip and topping out at the chapel of the Madonna del Ghisallo, an almost mandatory pilgrimage for those interested in the history of Italian bike racing.

But the Ghisallo was merely the hors d'oeuvre to the Muro. It’s almost mythical status (it is no longer used in the Giro or Tour of Lombardy) is masked by the friendly start up some smooth switchbacks on the main climb to the Colma di Sormano. The turn to the Muro dives down past a lovely picnic area, full of families enjoying the sunshine and oblivious to the pain we are about to be served. It’s not a long climb at 1.6km but the average 17% gradient tells no lies. It is so steep, someone thought it was a good idea to paint every metre of elevation gain on the road! If you can take your eyes off your front wheel for a second or two, you will also see the history of this piece of road written out in front of you. Perhaps a journey on foot is what your really need to take it all in. In a very Italian way, the relentless gradient tops out at a café on the summit where a rewarding coffee or can of the black doctor can be had. At this point Mark declared “The tour hasn’t even started yet and this is already one of the best days on the bike ever”! From the summit, it was a flowing descent to Nesso on the lakeside and a fast pull over the rollers back to Como.

That evening, we caught up with the crew and the riders on the tour, an entourage of 40 all up (35 rides plus guide, drivers, chef and mechanic). Tomorrow we would be heading north, crossing borders into Switzerland and back into Italy.

And so it begins

A chilly mass start following a team photo beside the lake and we were soon off, heading north along the lake and then inland. The group was soon splintered by a couple of rollers and early form was tested as Mark and I contrived to put in a punishing pace on one of the early climbs (why not?). Soon we were riding as a pair, enjoying the quiet and smooth roads on offer. It was a day punctuated by lakes and tunnels and was really a transition stage to the mountains on the following day. Swiss roads were generally busier than the Italian ones, with less patient drivers. Today was also the first day we experienced the somewhat impressive lunch spread that was to be provided every day on the roadside. It was difficult to prize yourself away and get back on the pushie!

Tours like this are all about routine. Tonight was the first night camping and getting used to how it all worked. Arrive at camp, setup, have a shower, have some soup, decompress the ride, talk about anything and everything, dinner, cleanup and climbing into the tent! I love the simplicity of camping. Once dinner is done (and what a dinner was put on every night!), the light starting to fade and the temperature dropping, what else is there to do but go to bed? A healthy dose of sleep is enforced!

Riders trickled into camp in groups, pairs and solo. One of things I loved about this trip was that you are self-sufficient during the day – a map or GPX file your companion, no guides here. You have a start point, an end point and lunch in between and you cruise or flog yourself as you feel, riding in a group or on your own depending on the form and the head. Support is a phone call away should you have a mechanical but the day is your own to enjoy.

Early impressions of the bunch were what a diverse group it was, chock full of years on the bike and a majority of Aussies. The only surprise was the amount of leg fur on display and a lack of (excessive) Beach Rd bike bling!

The next day was our first taste of a 2000m pass, the Simplon. It’s different to most of the other passes that we would tackle in that it is still used as a transport route - most high passes have been reduced to tourist trails by tunnels and other all weather options. As a result, it is quite a busy road, climbing for almost 40km, and, not a classic alpine col. My long standing memory is slogging through one of the never ending galleries (since it is a transport route, it is open all year and has many galleries to protect against avalanche danger) and hearing a truck laboring up behind me, sending out a furious noise as it labored up the gradient audible for a good few minutes before it eventually passed by. My reward was the first col of the trip, was a 360 degree vista with snow on the side of the road! The descent was a brake free ripper. Well, it would have been if it wasn’t for the road works (a frigid wait in one gallery for a good 5 minutes) resulting in some interesting moments in the gloomy tunnels. Once off the climb we were in the valley and soon at our campsite for the next two nights, this time in Switzerland – tomorrow was an official rest day, placed on day 3 to help with those with jetlag.

Of course, Mark and I didn’t come to the European Alps for a rest day (or two), so we planned to ride up the valley towards Zermatt and see what we could find. We were soon on a tiny little road that quickly had us groveling skywards before it settled down to a more manageable gradient. Within 30 minutes the road had run out but across the other side of the valley, we could see a tasty looking road clinging to the cliff and snaking its way up to a ski resort – Moosalp. It turned out to be a classic narrow road, chocked with switchbacks and alpine villages that ended at a spot for coffee and frites. Nice. We bombed the descent and we back in time for lunch and a lazy afternoon, beating the first rain of the trip. Now that’s my kind of rest day!

The route for Les Dix Alpes is designed as a continuous journey without transfers. This inevitably means there are some transitions along the valley between the various passes. Stage 3 was by the far the longest of these, with an 80km flat valley ride (not being a flatlander myself, I reckon it was the flattest 80kms I have ever done) to the base of the Col du Grand St. Bernard. After some interesting navigation, meanderings and a bonus bit of gravel, we caught up with a larger group and Mark and I then proceeded to set the pass for the bunch to the lunch stop at the base of the climb – “We thought we would let you young ‘uns do the work. You seemed to be enjoying it” was the consensus!

The Grand St. Bernard is a big beast in any book, rising 2000m steadily over 42km on a perfect surface. The kicker comes in the last 6km (after the through tunnel), which averages 10% with a few steeper sections. After a few hours of climbing, it’s a tough finale but the reward is a spectacular piece of road with a stunning and super fast descent, despite the Italian worker lying in the road, meekly waving a flag to “direct” traffic around a snow-clearing machine. Thanks to the tunnel further down the mountain, it is a very quiet stretch of road with good vision through the corners. The other bonus of the descent is that you are back in Italy. Hello macchiato!

After the Grand St. Bernard, the “pimple” of the Petit St. Bernard is the obvious anti-dote, surely not worth the effort at 27km and only topping out a little over 2100m? The climb was enlivened by the new and very sticky tarmac at one point. You can’t beat the sticky tarmac followed by gravel to create the fat tyre bike look on a roadie, no matter how temporarily. While not the highest or the hardest, it offers one of the longest and best technical descents, all 30kms of it down to Bourg St. Maurice and a hot French valley!