Les Dix Alpes (2014)

Part 2 - Les Grandes Alpes

By EAT MORE LARD

April 7^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!

If you missed part 1, you can find it here.

Les Grande Alpes

The next day would turn out to be my favourite stage of the entire trip (a stage I would ride entirely solo, as it turned out!), taking in the epic climb of the Col de l’Iseran, an odyssey within the odyssey. One of the other riders, Bernie, had been joking about how he was going to attack at Val D’Isere, a little under half way up the 40km climb, all part of the normal banter that happened over dinner every night.

We rolled out of camp and it was 500m to a little heart starter of a ramp that was 9km out from the start of the climb to the Iseran. Suddenly Bernie was off, obviously going for the double bluff after announcing his plans! I had no option but to chase him down, pass him and then proceed to ride him off my wheel up the ramp and I was soon clear of the entire group. It was Eddie Merck time. No point hanging about now so I proceeded to keep the engine revving, pushing a solid pace for the almost 3 hours it took to reach the summit. The only time I saw other riders was deep in the valley above Val D’Isere, looking down from the magnificent sweeping switchbacks high on the wall.

The climb itself is in three distinct parts with a sustained first section, before it eases through Val D'Isere. The landscape from there on the upper slopes of the mountain was beyond anything I have ever experienced on a bike, even on the Stelvio. It was mind blowing and I got a cheer from the support crew, showboating a “sprint” across the line at 2770m!

Once again it was a super descent, so warm that not even a gilet was needed for the first time. It was followed by a fast traverse through a beautiful alpine valley before the final descent to our camp. As I was early and the crew was only just getting organized at the campsite, I decided to check out the Col du Mt Cenis, a climb straight out of the village. It turned out to be quite a bit tougher than expected with a relentless gradient, a hot sun, 7 days of back-to-back riding in the legs and even a headwind for the last few kilometres! Still, once more it lead to glorious views and I knew from the climb that it would be a beautiful decent back to the village and coffee and ice cream!

Being Cadel

It was a tour of little ceremony with one exception. Every night, over dinner, the Marmotte award would be awarded, the recipient having the privilege of carrying said furry creature the following day and then passing it on. The reward was given out for a variety of reasons including getting lost on a climb (quite a skill), crashing (in this case twice), inattentively riding past lunch (Mark) or riding up an extra mountain at the end of the day because soup wasn’t ready. Guess who got to carry it for the next day?

She turned out to be a tough companion. With clear site of the Garmin, every time I was seen to slack of she would give me an ear bashing....

On many a trip, a chance to climb the Galibier would be reason enough to pack the bike so to have it included in the middle of our grand tour was a real pleasure and delight. The fact that the weather continued to be perfect (the only rain so far had been on the afternoon of our rest day) certainly made it so easy to leap out of the tent every morning ready for action! It was as wonderful as expected, with, surprisingly, getting over the warm up bump of the Telegraphe a little tester due to the rising mercury (and the sustained nature of the climbing on the Telegraphe).

At the top of this section I was passed by a French rider wearing red and white who was looking pretty comfortable. Soon afterwards, I caught up with one of our other riders who was going well and we had a chat. “Did you see that French guy?” he asked. “I reckon you need to chase him down for the team”. It was 5km to the summit (now in view), and the gauntlet had been laid down. I ticked up the effort and slowly started to reel him in, closing through ever corner. I finally caught him at the left turn where the through tunnel appears and proceeded to put a good minute into him by the summit, a kilometre or so up the road. What turned out to be his support crew came past me in their van a few metres shy of the summit shouting “Bravo!” out the window. I can only imagine what they must have said to him – “You let that skinny English dog beat you?”.

I reckon the Galibier is the first summit I have been to where there is a queue (well more of a melee) to be photographed in front of the sign. It is madness. The summit is so tiny though, literally a bend through a notch in the ridge, that I have no idea how that managed to put the Tour de France finish circus up there! The descent was rough but amazing to be on the same road as Cadel’s epic chase of Andy Schleck (albeit in the opposite direction) and the Col du Lautaret soon appeared and with it the planned coffee rendezvous before the stinking hot valley descent to Bourg d’Oisans, the base for Alpe d’Huez.

Parcour of Legends

It was another rest day but Mark and I were keen to have a taste of the Alpe (which seem to literally disappear up a cliff above our campsite) plus some other climbs in the area. You can see why whenever the Tour hits the Alpe, within a very short period, the bunch is down to a very select group indeed. The first two kilometres average something like 11% until it settles back to around 8%. It’s a rude start on cold legs. Whilst the road surface is magnificent, along with the iconic sweeping virages, the climb itself is not the most scenic, ending on the side of the valley in a sprawling high-rise ski resort (in fact the last few kilometres are riding though the apartment blocks). Funnily enough, it is the climb that everyone asked how you went!

Mark and I managed to get lost trying to find our way across the Alpe and onto a road traversing the ride of the valley and around to the base of the climb to the Croix de Fer. After a little riding in circles and some off-piste dirt action, we eventually found it and its gut churning view – next stop the valley floor. Once we had reached the bottom of the Croix de Fer, Mark decided his legs needed the rest of the day off and turned for the camp whilst I pushed on. It’s a tough climb, especially in the heat, with a very solid and sustained opening 5 – 6km, followed by a little descent through some steep switchbacks (at over 12% - I’d be climbing them on the way back!) and then another very solid section up to the big dam that marked the final push through beautiful alpine meadows. The last few kilometres take you pass the side trip to the Glandon (a bonus “climb” that would be optioned on the way down) to the summit. With a name like the Croix de Fer, you would expect the actual Croix de Fer (Iron Cross) to be somewhat larger than the 2m high structure I found! To add to the disappointment, neither of the two cafes were serving food until 12pm so it was a cold drink and the last of the muesli bar and back down the hill. The unexpected bonus as the end was the pleasant and shady 3km gravel section along the river at the base of the Alpe. The rest day was capped off with steak, frites and Leffe in the town!

Today was the official day up the Alpe as part of the tour but this time descending via the Sarenne. That turned out to be a very scary road. It was only re-surfaced last year for the 2013 Tour but winter must have taken its toll with bike swallowing potholes, gravel and a very lumpy surface to contend with – a real test of nerves and braking limits. Fortunately, once past Riblon Corner, it improves rapidly and you are soon off the descent and straight into the climb of the Lautaret, a straight forward and pleasant little bump that takes you over the range and down into the Briancon region. On the descent, we caught about 5 minutes of rain drops, the only time we caught any rain on the bike on the whole trip (the only other rain were some later afternoon thunderstorms once we were in camp).