This blog has admittedly mostly covered road riding experiences while here in France – that’s where most of our time and opportunities for riding went. But we did bring mountain bikes for the whole family and we did have some excellent rides on varied trails in our area of southern France.
Many of those experiences happened when we attended a style of event that is rare in Canada (although we wish it wasn’t!) – the mountain bike randonnee, or commonly called a “VTT Rando” in France.
“Randonnee” means literally “excursion” in French, so can refer to any hike, road or mountain bike ride, even to a car trip. It is commonly used in the cycling community to refer to a particular type of riding event. When paired with “VTT – velo tout terrain, or “mountain bike” it is almost certainly a recipe for fun. A VTT Randonnee is typically put on by a riding club or group of riders in an area. They can most easily be thought of in North American terms as either a very structured and supported group ride for all levels, or perhaps as a race without the racing.
In our experience (we went to 3) they take on a fairly standard format:
- arrive for sign up and to start riding between 7:30 and 10 am.
- Pay a nominal fee (covering insurance and some costs), kids are usually cheap or free.
- Choose from 3 or 4 courses of increasing length and difficulty – ranging from 10-12 km “family” courses to 40km or more “advanced” routes.
- Saddle up and hit the trails – as fast or slow as you want, but sharing and friendly with dozens or even hundreds of others of all levels
- Routes are very well marked with flagging etc at a similar level to many races.
- Most events have at least one refreshment station and sometimes two. Expect a wide range of fruit, cakes, drinks, chocolate, wine! and more
- At the finish there is usually a social event with a BBQ or similar food as well as more wine and refreshments, all included in your 5-10 Euro entry fee
We can’t say enough good about these events! They capture so much of what is great about cycling in a welcoming and non-competitive environment. Kids and beginners are encouraged and we saw every type of bike from the best boutique rig to the oldest clunker. The trail choices are broad. Clubs are running the event just to show off their local trails and to have fun, not to make money. Often there are items like free T-shirts, lots of prizes (especially for the kids) and generally a happy casual atmosphere.
We were able to discover some great trails that would be hard to find otherwise, and if we wanted to we could have attended one of these almost every weekend from April onwards within a 50km or less radius of where we lived. And we found out about them just by seeing postings on lampposts, in popular riding areas and in shops. What a great way to experience the sport, see new areas and meet new riders. This is one cycling export that we hope we can see make it to Canada on a bigger scale!
Contact us or comment here if you want to help show off your trails in a Randonnee event. Maybe we can help!
Finding ourselves in France during July meant that getting to see a Tour de France stage was an essential. The 2009 version had a unique itinerary, including a Monaco start, a visit to Spain, and a penultimate day trip up Ventoux. Comparing to our own stops and schedule, we decided to see the riders as they went over a classic – the Tourmalet, in the Pyrenees.
This year, the Tourmalet was part of a stage where it was unfortunately unlikely to be a key factor in the outcome – although tough and following the Col d’Aspin, riders would crest it with some 70km left to the finish, enough time for the group to come together. However, what we were after was more than just seeing a deciding stage – it was to live the experience of being on a famous climb during the Tour. And the Tourmalet delivered!
First, some background on the Tourmalet. It was one of the first major climbs included in the Tour when it first came to the Pyrenees in around 1910, it has featured in nearly 75% of all tours since, and is also used often in the Vuelta d’Espagne. It is also considered one of the most challenging in Europe. Climbing from Sainte Marie de Campan side (as in this year) it is 17km, with some 1265m of climbing and an average grade of around 7.4%. However, the first few km are relatively easy, with the final 12 km rarely going below 9%. It also happens to traverse some incredibly scenic Pyrenean countryside of quiet villages, pastoral farms and postcard views. I had a chance to ride it the day before the Tour went up, on a gorgeous sunny mountain morning. It was tough, indeed. This year I’ve had the good fortune to hit some classics – Telegraphe, Galibier, Glandon, Alpe d’Huez, Ventoux. The Tourmalet ranked strongly among them, not as brutally long as the Ventoux, but every bit as challenging or more so than the others. A classic climb in a beautiful area with many more roads and climbs nearby – regardless of the tour, I can strongly recommend a visit to ride in this area.
The Tour experience.
Our goal was to live what it was like to be one of the thousands of people lining the roads on the Tour. And the day in the Pyrenees certainly delivered! It truly is a sporting spectacle unlike anything that can be experienced in North America. The sheer numbers of people that make significant efforts to come out to see just a brief flash of the peloton go by is remarkable. I had the chance a few years ago to see the Tour finish in Paris, but that somewhat ceremonial day in a large and already busy city just doesn’t deliver the same close-up feel for this event.
I started our experience with my ride up the tour route on the day before the race. The lower parts of the climb were still quiet, only the occasional camper, banner and some freshly painted cheering on the pavement. But the last 10km of the course was already becoming crowded with tents, cars, camping cars and people. The final few km above the ski station of La Mongie to the crest of the col were simply packed. It was like a 4 km long, switchbacked town – every flattish space within about 300m of the road was occupied by camping tents and vehicles. It was mid morning, so the atmosphere was relaxed, but there were thousands of people around – sitting, standing, setting up flags, playing cards. Just waiting. Some 30 hours before the race, on a major climb yes, but one that was unlikely to be decisive in the stage or tour. Wow.
My pre-ride experience told us that we would need to get an early start on race day to give ourselves time to get partway up the mountain, find a place to squeeze the car and then hike to the roadside somewhere. A local told us that the road up the mountain would be closed by the gendarmes approximately 2 hours before the race caravan was due through. We arrived at the climb some 3 hours before that deadline to find the road already closed! So much for local knowledge… so we quickly crammed the car into a lot already plugged with RV’s and other cars in the small village of St Marie de Campan at the base of the climb, loaded our backpacks and started the hike. This is where the carnival atmosphere started. We were walking up this long road climb, as a part of a continuous parade of people. Young and old, from all over Europe and the world (especially many of the ubiquitously orange-clad Basque supporters from that nearby part of Spain, and no one complaining about the long, hot walk, everyone enjoying the day. Cyclists were allowed on the road, so there was also a continuous parade of riders heading up to find a good watching spot. Thousands of riders it seemed. We wished we still had all of our bikes (all but one were shipped back to BC already) as we trudged up the Tourmalet. After nearly 2 hours, the kids had done enough walking, and we found a rare unoccupied spot on a slope just above the road. We put down our blanket, arranged our provisions for the day and settled down to enjoy the show. And to wait. It was still hours until the race was due, but sitting on a sunny and beautiful mountainside soaking it all in was enjoyable in itself. In the km or so of road that we could see, it was filling up fast. Many had been camping for some time, many more were walking and riding up to fill in the space. So many people!
Another thing that strikes you while waiting for the race is the constant flow of official and sponsor vehicles. Police on motorcycles, endless Tour de France logoed cars and vans, occasional sponsor vehicles selling newspapers or giving out promo items, service trucks and more. Hours before the race, constantly up the road, through the masses of people. The sheer infrastructure of this rolling show is impressive and almost surprising that it all works. Then, about an hour before the racers are due, the show that most of the kids are waiting for begins to arrive. The “caravane publicitaire”, consisting of delegations of vehicles from all the major sponsors of the race flows by like a speedy, noisy parade. Vehicles of all sizes, blaring music or sponsor announcements, tossing promo items like hats, jerseys, free soap, magazines, and more into the waving crowds. Performers and staff strapped into their spots on the float-like vehicles, as this parade covers the whole 3000 plus km distance of the tour, at average speeds of around 50km/h! There were some 200 vehicles in a 25 km long parade that took some 30 minutes to pass by. Rolling beer cases, mini’s made up to look like giant tires, huge helmets, there was no end to it! The kids loved it and sported their free cycling hats and other chintzy items for the rest of the day. Then the flow of official vehicles seemed to intensify, now with the occasional team car mixed in scouting the route. Still an hour to go before the first riders would appear but the excitement was clearly building!
The first sign of the approaching riders was the helicopters. At first distant, their sound became clearer as they entered the base of the valley. At one point I counted 7 in the sky, 5 up high and 2 down close to the road. The progress of the lead group and the chasing peloton was easy to see way down the valley, by watching the two helicopters pacing each group at treetop level, often below the level of the mountainside road. The pitch of the crowds lining the road (remember we were some 9km from the summit) was now intensifying. We lined the road on either side as the big show approached, waiting for our shot. The lead group came upon us, surprisingly quickly given the 9+% grade. They were working hard, it was obvious. They seemed smaller somehow that when seen on TV, and yet also bigger as they laboured by less than 3 feet away! Only 2 minutes later, the main group appeared, all the big names at the front, grimly set faces, the chase on in earnest. Just a few seconds to look, to snap a photo or two, cheer and yell and then they were gone. No dramatic attacks were happening (or ever happened as it turned out) on the climb. But everyone who had been there for days or hours at least seemed happy, satisfied, and excited by these moments of proximity to the world’s biggest sporting event.
The next 20 minutes or so were occupied by an incredible number of more cars (team cars, official cars, motorbikes etc), a few batches of the slower groups including the “gruppetto” (slower sprinters and other riders just helping each other over the mountain) and eventually the lonely “lanterne rouge” or last rider in the race, who was followed by the “Voiture Balai” (broom wagon) and another big batch of service vehicles. One thing is clear – the vehicle to rider ratio in the tour is about 10:1 in favour of the vehicles!
Then, the reverse exodus began. Even as we could still see the helicopters indicating the lead groups crawling toward the summit, the fans from lower down were heading back down the mountain. It was chaotic. Those hundreds and hundreds of cyclists were whistling downhill now on a narrow mountain road through crowds of walkers, a mix of cars and RV’s, and even the occasional slightly insane driver trying, salmon-like, to ascend the mountain against this stream. After an hour of walking, we caught up with the vehicular traffic jam that was forming at the bottom, and passed a lot of it at walking speed. But through it all, I never once saw a temper lost or even angry words. Not only had people spent hours or even days getting up the mountain to see a race go by in the matter of a few minutes, and were now spending hours leaving, but no one seemed to be anything but happy. Remarkable this in a country where emotions are not typically held in check and rules of the road are generally considered only approximate guidelines. Hard to understand but somehow all explained by the reverence held in Europe for this event.
Going to see a stage of the Tour is a special opportunity. When I do it again, I have learned some lessons – ride, don’t drive or walk. Bring a book for the wait. Maybe bring a radio so you can tell what is happening before the race arrives. Or not, it may distract you from the book. Maybe bring some big crazy wig or silly hat to fit in better. But most of all, relax and enjoy the show, as well as the race when it briefly arrives. Sitting on the side of a famous climb in the Tour is definitely not the best way to see how the stage plays out. But it is the best way to experience the scope and scale of the Grand Boucle.
Our six months in France included a plan since the start to spend the month of July exploring the country. We did not make any specific plans before leaving Canada, but figured we would decide an itinerary as we spent the spring and early summer in Provence. From a cycling perspective, there were a few things that quickly appeared on the list. One, of course, was to see a Tour de France stage (stay tuned for another post from the Pyrenees!); another was to get back to the Alps for some road riding, and one of mine was to try an amateur road race in France somewhere. These last two came together in a perfect opportunity – ride the 2009 “La Marmotte” amateur race while spending a week in one of the centres of world cycling – Bourg d’Oisans at the base of Alpe D’Huez. A plan was made!
I had been to the southern Alps once before for my first taste of European road riding, and I was hooked. The mountains, villages and scenery are incredible in themselves, and best of all they are woven with a network of truly spectacular roads that mix little traffic with challenging climbs, hair-raising descents and incredible views. There are plenty of other activity choices here too – mountain biking is hugely popular with many epic XC choices as well as tons of lift accessed freeride and downhill at almost every ski station. In addition, the hiking choices are endless, along with rafting, climbing and many other mountain sports. It is an outdoor playground in both winter and summer. We based our stay in Bourg D’Oisans as that was the start location of the race I was planning to do, but it is also very central to much of what the southern Alps have to offer. Set in a lush river valley, the ski stations of Alpe D’Huez and Deux Alpes are nearby, there is plenty of accommodation both in Bourg and surrounding villages, activities are plentiful and it is easily accessible from the south, west and east. Our friends at “King of the Mountains” were already booked this year when we planned our trip, but we highly recommend their lovely location and excellent personal attention to your cycling fun if you plan a trip to this area.
We arrived on a Tuesday, with the planned race event coming up the next Saturday. Lots of lead time to get out and explore as well as a little rest on the day before. I took a spin up the Alpe d’Huez on Wednesday to remind myself of the climb as this is where the race ends. It was busy as always with riders but regardless of the rider and car traffic it is a challenging and beautiful climb and a very fun descent - even dodging climbing riders and cars on the 21 switchbacks! At a strong and steady pace, it was a 55 minute climb for me – sadly that was not a precursor to how it would feel during the race! We then headed out for the first of a few excellent family hikes, up to a beautiful mountain lake that that was refreshing in the 30plus degree heat. Mo made her assault on the Alpe on the Friday morning and had a great ride to the top among the last minute trainers and cycling tourists. We then spent the afternoon doing a drive around the “Marmotte” course so the family could see what I was getting myself into – it was an incredibly scenic drive over some very famous roads that left me excited but a little nervous. All of this time in the days before the race, the town of Bourg was absolutely overrun with cyclists. The place is always busy with riders given the many attractions, but this week was truly remarkable. You simply could not be on any road around the area without seeing group after group out riding. Every café and restaurant was full all the time, bikes leaned everywhere. Accents and languages from around Europe and the world, but everyone sharing the same passion. It was hard not to get excited!
What is La Marmotte? It is a “cyclosportif” or amateur road race, named for the indigenous groundhog-like creature that lives in this part of the Alps. Now in its 26th year, it has become one of the most well known and popular races of its type in Europe. It is an individual race, so no teams – but there are plenty of entrants! The race this year was limited to 7500 riders and it sold out as usual. More on how a 7500 rider race works later…
The popularity has grown mostly due to the truly epic and classic route that the race offers over several Tour climbs. Starting in Bourg d’Oisans, the race proceeds up some 1300 m over the Col du Glandon, back down the Glandon other side, transits across to the 1000m climb of Col de Telegraphe, which precedes the mighty 1500m Col du Galibier. From the peak at over 2600 m elevation, the race descends Galibier, then the Col de Lauteret in a 45 km run back to Bourg D’Oisans where the final challenge is the daunting 1150m Alpe D’Huez. Total distance is 174km, with some 5000m of climbing in store. People from all over the world want to come and challenge themselves with this very tough and beautiful ride – and I was to be one of them! I had ridden most of this route in 2006, fully supported by the “King of the Mountain” folks and at a steady but still enjoyable pace. We had not included the final climb of the Alpe and had certainly not been riding at “race pace”. Another part of the challenge is to feel a little of what a Tour rider feels in a difficult stage – lots of climbs and a significant distance with a “mountain-top” finish.
The race experience.
I’ve done lots of mountain bike races, mostly of the long distance, endurance type, so in some ways was not too worried about a long day in the saddle with lots of climbing. But other than a few “Tuesday Nighter” criteriums and a “Spring Series” training race in Vancouver, I had never done any road racing. And I had certainly never done it with more than 7000 others from all over Europe! So yes I was a little nervous. With a bit of research as well as lots of km spent on my road bike in France all spring, I figured I could probably finish in a time between 7 and 8 hours if all went well. Of course I wanted to hit the lower end of that range, but knew there were a lot of variables in any race. It was easy to plan food, the race had plenty of water stops and the weather looked good, although hot. So the basic logistics were ready.
In order to get 7500 riders safely out of the small streets of a little Alps town, the organizers break the start into 3 waves. Since everyone has an electronic timing chip, there is no problem comparing times. I was in the third wave of 2500 riders so there were already going to be 5000 riders up the road when the start pistol was to go for me. I arrived near the start area just after the first wave left at 7am. Although my start was 45 minutes away, the town was absolutely swamped with riders. Every street and alley was full as they formed a makeshift staging area. It was incredible! There was plenty of apprehension and excitement in the crowd, but everyone was in good spirits it seemed. Riders who shared languages chatted comfortably, as I did with a Belgian and a Belgian-American beside me. It was still hard to imagine how all of us would safely hit the initial 8km narrow highway stretch safely but I knew it was a long day ahead so told myself to take it easy, pace myself and enjoy the ride. Mo and the kids managed to appear nearby just before the start, wished me well and snapped a photo just before the gun sounded. And we were off. It only took me about 30 seconds to be on my bike and riding under the start banner, but according to them, some riders were still crossing the start line almost 15 minutes later!!!
Out on the road, which was closed to traffic for the first 10 km or so, the pace was immediately fast and I of course immediately forgot my self instruction for pacing and got caught up in the fun! A couple of hard efforts got me quickly up into the lead bunch of 50 or so riders in our big group and I tried to soak it all in – flying along the flats at nearly 50km/h, fanning through roundabouts in two streams like those helicopter shots from the Tour, lead motorbikes just 30 metres or so ahead of us up the road. This was incredible! The adrenaline kept pumping as we hit the initial slopes of the Glandon, and I found myself now in a small front group of just 5 or so, following the lead motos. We were now passing big parts of the field of the start group that went out 25 minutes before us and flying up the hill. Some glances at my HR monitor told me that I was clearly going too hard for 40 minutes into a 7 hour day, but jeez I was having so much fun and it felt good…. We crested the Glandon at about an hour and 30, grabbed a fresh bottle of water and hit the first big descent. A word here about me and road bike descending – nervous! My first time in the Alps, the descents truly scared me. But I had spent the last 5 months riding the skinny and twisty Provencal roads on my road bike so hoped the descents would seem more familiar this time. Here I was at the top of a technical, fast 20km descent of some 1200m…. so I dived in. It was a blast. Skinny road, steep pitch, tight corners, lots of riders – but somehow it all worked and there was no fear, only grin-inducing joy! That first fast climb and big descent was worth all of the suffering to come….
We hit the valley floor and were faced with a 35km or so transition across to the foot of the Telegraphe and Galibier. It was flattish, but generally uphill. It was hot, around 30 degrees and mostly on busy roads with uninspiring industrial views of a main transportation and industrial corridor. But I was still high on the adrenaline of the last couple of hours so attacked this section too, found a fast group to get in and we started hammering along the valley. Here were the first dark clouds on my otherwise sunny race: 1) I am not a “roleur” or super strong guy who can make time on the flats. Climbing is OK for me, but pushing wind is not a forte and wears me out fast. So I should have known better. 2) the “individual” nature of this race was becoming clear. Although there were about 10-15 guys in the group with me, it soon became obvious that I and one other generous-hearted Italian were the only ones willing to work at the front. This surprised me a bit, but I was feeling good, once again did not heed my HR monitor’s clear signals about effort expended and decided to be the good Canadian and do more than my share of the work. Clearly the others were smarter than me. We made good time to the base of the Telegraphe, where things get interesting again. The Col de Telegraphe is an under-appreciated climb, often grouped into the overall Galibier experience as you must ascend it first to get to the “classic” Galibier ascent. They are separate climbs as there is a small 4km descent between them. The Telegraphe is about 12 km long and 1000m up with a tough grade averaging near 8%, warming you up for the 15 km up Galibier to a height of over 2600m elevation. Anyway, you may have guessed it – the messages that my HR monitor and good sense had been trying to give me while I ignored them, were now delivered emphatically by my legs in a way I could no longer ignore. Halfway up the Telegraphe, I was in “a spot of bother”. I knew (too late) what was happening and I knew there was not much I could now do about it. My pace slowed and it went from joy and excitement of racing to pure suffering to maintain even the slower pace. It took me about 2 more hours to finally crest Galibier, around 30 minutes slower than it should have. And it hurt! A brief moment of respite where I met the King of the Mountains team who were providing bottles and food near the summit and then I had to keep grinding on. My hopes of a 7 hour finish time were gone, now I just had to figure out how to get finished! From the top of Galibier, via the Lauteret it is some 45 km back to Bourg d’Oisans, most of it downhill and some of it steeply so. Once again, I had some fun on the fast descent, and found a good fast group of Dutch and Belgians to make pace with and together we made the trip in just around an hour. This made back a little of my lost time, and added some excitement. Possibly the scariest parts of the course for me came in this section – tunnels. This section of road descends some rough mountain ravine terrain so goes through numerous tunnels. Some are long, and quite dark. And they are downhill and curving – so you are flying along at 45-50km/h in a group of 10-15 riders (wearing dark glasses in the blinding sun) and suddenly are in a tunnel, with visibility perhaps 15% of what it was a second ago. You can’t see the road surface, you can’t clearly see the rider ahead or behind you and you can’t see the end of the tunnel. It is downhill so you feel the bike accelerate, and it is curving so you have to strain to see the road lines. You are in a group so you can’t slow or make any sudden movement for risk of collision. So you have to trust the others, concentrate and then all of a sudden “pop” you are back in the sunlight. Wow. 2 or 3 of those were more than enough excitement for me…
Finally we reach Bourg and the foot of the Alpe d’Huez. It is 35 Celsius. I am pretty spent. Only 14km and about 1100m between me and the finish. I ponder gloomily why I do stuff like this. I consider just stepping off my bike and calling it a day. Then, like always, decide that I have come this far and somehow will get it done. Nothing to do but grind uphill. Then I hit the first switchback of 21 and through my tunnel vision haze I see the Different Bikes ff logo and ‘Go Dad” painted in a repeating series on the road around the curve. I’m on the Alpe d’Huez, in a bike race, and my name is painted on the road. By my kids (and my biggest fan Mo!) OK, I can do this! They had painted just about every other corner. It didn’t make me faster but it did help me make it! What a scene it was on this climb. Hundreds of riders, slogging, grinding, suffering toward the finish. Some walking. Some sitting on the parapets in the shade resting. It was not pretty. I just ground it out. It took me nearly 20 minutes longer than my training ride up only a few days before but I made it. I got to the line in just under 7:40, with my kids cheering me in! I made some sillymistakes, and it took longer than I had hoped, but I had survived the Marmotte!
Looking back it was an incredible experience and I am glad I did it! Well organized, incredible and famous route, riders from around the continent and world – If you love cycling challenges, I highly recommend putting La Marmotte on your list of rides to try!
Below a couple of early pics from the race (still trying to get some good originals) These were from Galibier, up and down.
Another bonus of the area we are staying in Provence is its relative proximity to the famous road climbs of Mt.Ventoux. About 90 km away, it is unfortunately a little too far to ride to , but a little over an hour in the car gets you to the base of the ‘Giant of Provence’. We have taken advantage of that proximity a few times now, here’s a quick summary of those Ventoux adventures.
First, a quick overview of Le Ventoux for those of you who are uninitiated to its fame and intrigue:
Geologically part of the Alps mountain chain, Ventoux stands over a hundred kilometres distant from the main Alps and rises distinctly above the rolling Provence countryside. Its unmistakable white-topped peak and upper ridges can be seen from some 60-100 km in most directions, making it a well known landmark for millennia of travelers and mariners. The white top is also distinct as it is indeed snow in the winter, but retains the same appearance as sun-bleached limestone in the summer. It is also famous for its winds (venteux means “windy” in French) which blow strongly over the summit for some 2/3 of the year on average. Its somewhat infamous history with cycling is more recent, with the first Tour de France going over it in 1951 and since then appearing in that race only 12 times over 57 years. (The 2009 tour will add to that count with a finish at its summit on the penultimate stage) It is considered one of the toughest climbs in the road cycling world, primarily due to the length and unrelenting nature of the climb, but also gained further notoriety with the death of a British racer, Tom Simpson, during a stage of the 1967 Tour. Together with the long and often steep climb, the summer heat can be furnace-like, although often combined with cold winds and storms at the top. There are 3 main road routes up Ventoux. The “classic” rises from the town of Bedoin over a distance of about 21 km and gains over 1600m to a top elevation of 1909m. It is an epic place to ride, and these days thousands travel from all over France and the world do so every year to experience the mystique and history. We decided to join them. You can learn more about Ventoux on lots of places on the web including the all-knowing Wikipedia’s entry
I had been there once before – in Sept 2006, my brother Matt and I first rode up Ventoux. It was past the busy season, and followed a week of riding in the Alps so we were a bit tired and a bit jaded from days of spectacular riding. It was still unforgettable for the challenge, the moonscape at the top, the views and the winds, but I knew I needed to come back to explore it further. This year, I have certainly done that.
Ascent 1 – I went with a local riding partner in mid May on a “recon” mission - I planned to bring my wife Mo here to experience the climb and wanted to make sure I could be an effective tour guide with no surprises if possible. On this ride, we did the classic climb from Bedoin, then descended the longer, more gentle eastern flank to the town of Sault and rode a rolling route from there back to Bedoin (incidentally a similar route that the 2009 Tour will take from Sault to Bedoin to attack the climb) It was a pleasant day, very windy and cool at the top, and a nice 78km loop with about 2000m of climbing. I was ready to be the tour guide.
Ascent 2 – As we looked at the calendar to find a day to go and do the climb together, Mo and I hit on Thursday June 11. This was the day that the annual Dauphine Libere pro stage race was going up Ventoux! We would be unable to stay for the pros to come through (had to get back to school to get the kids) but would be able to do the famous climb while it was marked and closed for the race. It was an unforgettable experience. The course was busy when we started, but was closed to cars by the time we reached the top. Although the race was a couple of hours away, most of the 21 km length was lined with fans. It was a warm, sunny day, so on the lower wooded slopes, most were set up as for a picnic – tables, chairs and blankets set up in the shade by the roadside, accompanied by lots of food and drink. As we got to the famous final 6km in the bare open rock there were more RV’s and cars tightly lining the famous road in a sparkling row all the way to the distant summit which is tantalizingly visible for most of that section. Most were keen to cheer us along in our own climb, in a variety of languages – “bon courage” “forte forte” and “allez!” being the most common. We were also accompanied by hundreds of other amateurs like ourselves. It was a veritable mass pilgrimage by bike. As young as 10 or 11 and as old as perhaps 70 or more. Road bikes, hybrid bikes, mountain bikes, even a tandem o two, suffering, grinding and sweating up the huge climb. Big groups and individuals, experiencing a bit of what it is like for the pros. And yes it is tough. The Bedoin climb starts gently, with about 4 km of 3-4% grade through vineyards and orchards. Then you hit the forest line, make a hard left switchback and start climbing – the average grade from here up is nearly 9%, and there are sustained sections at 10-11%. One is quickly left looking for lower gears! Mo soon demanded an answer as to why her road bike did not have a triple… Upon reaching the 15km mark and the ski station of Chalet Reynard, you enter the “moonscape” of bare, broken limestone. The weather station building that flags the top is visible 6 km and about 500m vertically away, and the road snakes across the Ventoux flanks toward the top. You feel encouraged by the sight of the top and the slightly easier grade, but soon realize that there is a bunch of work left! Mo did an incredible job here, picking up her cadence and eventually rolling victorious under the Dauphine finish line banner, with a climb time under 2hr. An excellent personal first and best! We enjoyed the view and some cookies from the sharp businessmen who locate at the top, then headed back down to escape the pervasive strong wind.
Ascent 3,4 and 5 - In my research about Ventoux, I had heard about an informal club that can be joined called Club des Cingles du Mont Ventoux Although pronounced like “single” it actually is a club for those who ride all three road ascents in one day – a “triple”. I am admittedly a person who is prone to attempting silly things like this, so I naturally decided I should try to do it while here this year. Thus, just two days after going up with Mo, we headed back to Bedoin, for me to make my triple attempt. It was a family trip on a Saturday, the kids and Mo would visit some local towns as well as do a hike around the trails at the summit while I rode up and down the beast a few times. Why not? The day turned out near perfect. Very clear, no wind, even at the summit, although as a result it was pretty hot. Around 35C at the base and a bit cooler at the top. So off I went, around 11am. I would recommend to others to consider starting earlier on a hot day, but I planned water stops and figured I would pace myself to avoid overheating. The short story is that it was not easy, but it was an incredible ride! There were again hundreds and hundreds of riders out, on all routes and all day while I was riding. There was no particular event going on, just lots of personal and club adventures on a beautiful June day. The vehicle traffic was regular but not oppressive, some of it was even interesting as there was a vintage car rally of some kind going on so lots of unique cars went by on a couple of the routes. I went with the most popular plan and started up the south Bedoin route, then down to Malaucene via the western route and back up that same route. It is a similar grade and total climb to the first and was tough, especially the long, sunbaked 12% sections in the middle! I then went down to Sault on the eastern side and finished with that somewhat easier and much quieter, although longer climb, and finally had a giggle-inducing descent down to Bedoin on a twisting road nearly empty of traffic (think averaging around 50km/h down a smooth, twisting road with little traffic for over 20 minutes).
Total numbers were 132 km (half climbing), 6hrs 15min time, 4.5 of which was climbing, the rest was water stops and descending. 4400 m of total elevation gain. I did not officially join the club de cingles as one has to send away for a form a bunch of days before doing it, which I was not organized enough to do – but I know I am an honourary member! It was not the hardest day I have ever had on a bike but was definitely a challenge! Best of all it was one of my “dream rides” to do, done on a perfect day, and I even saw my family cheering me at the top of the second ascent and near the end of the third – it doesn’t get much better than that.
Living in the south of France” for a while has its benefits. One of them is the proximity to many other countries to easily visit. Another is the immersion in an incredibly active cycling culture, including easy access to a wide range of professional level events and races. We recently put these two benefits together and made the 5 hour drive to the Ligurian coast of Italy to see a stage of the 2009 Giro d’Italia.
The annual May spectacle of the Giro d’Italia is often outshined in North America by its July neighbour le Tour de France. The Tour and its “maillot jaune” (yellow jersey) remains the most coveted prize in cycling, but the Giro and its “maglia rosa” (pink jersey) has nearly as long, and equally as storied a history, plus has an energy and character that is more than unique – it is truly special. We wanted to experience this excitement and witness the famed “tifosi” (Italian cycling fans) in action. The kids had a 4 day school holiday weekend in the second half of May – we checked against the Giro schedule and found that the much anticipated time trial stage ending in Riomaggiore on the Mediterranean coast (about 475km from our current base in France) occurred during this break. Coincidentally, that area of Italy (known as the Cinque Terre) was on our “hope to visit list” – so a plan was immediately born!
2009 marks the “centoanni” (100th anniversary) of the Giro and the organizers put together an exciting and historic set of stages, many of which have never been seen in any Giro and are unique in their variability. The Tour, for all its grandeur, is somehow more formulaic and rarely sees such variety of stages. Many of the grand cities of Italy are visited, starting with a team time trial around Venice, a multi-lap criterium style stage around Milan, and ending with an individual time trial in Rome. In between there’s an eclectic mix of both brutally long and remarkably short stages, in the Alps, Dolomites and Apennines, even a stage ending with a full ascent of the famous Mt Vesuvius, never before featured in a Giro.
And of course, our chosen stage to see - the individual time trial, held May 20th in the Cinque Terre. This stage was also unique as it is on roads not often visited by the Giro and was remarkably long and undulating for a time trial. The distance was 61km, with some 1100m of climbing. The ascents were long and often steep, with tortuously twisty descents on narrow but scenic coastal roads in this rugged area. After reconnaissance of the course, most riders in fact chose not to use their specific time-trial bikes, as the aerodynamic advantage was outweighed by the climbing and the bike handling required.
Some riders described the course as “more like a long breakaway in the mountains” than a time trial. Normally ITT’s at pro tours are ridden over shorter and flatter distances and won in times under and hour and at average speeds often over 50km/h. This stage was eventually won by race leader (at time of writing) Denis Menchov in a time of over 1 hour and 34 minutes, at an average speed of 38.5 km/h. He pulled off a “double” - snatching the stage win and the maglia rosa in the same stage. Italian Danilo DiLuca (pictured in pink) worked hard to honour the jersey but came up short.
Riding a bit of the Giro
Of course, I wasn’t planning to just watch the stage. I had to ride some of it. After our visit to the Paris-Nice race earlier in the year I guessed the course might be generally available to ride before the race started and so brought my bike along. Here’s a summary of some of that experience:
- The day dawns sunny and promises to be hot. I can see and hear the finish line being set up on the road high above our flat in Riomaggiore. I don the blue and white DB colours, my trusty Rocky road bike and head out.
- My plan is to ride out on the course from the finish to about the halfway point and then turn around and “time trial” it back to see how it feels. My turnaround will be at the town of Levanto, about 30 km away and at the base of the larger of the two climbs on the course.
- Unsure of what state the course will be in, I grind up the 300 vertical metres from our flat at the seaside to the finish line. I am blocked immediately by a carabinieri (police) who (I think) is saying that there is no way I can get through to ride the course. Frustrated, I am soon joined by a small group of other cyclists with similar plans to mine, one of whom is Belgian but fortunately speaks Italian and is also apparently rather persuasive. Soon enough we are navigating a beehive of setup activity at the finish line - once through that are spinning along the fully closed road that is the Giro TT route!
- I immediately start climbing (the final descent of the course) and note how steep and twisty this descent will be. The road is perched on steep hillsides about 250-500 m above the sea with tight hairpins and precipitous drops behind marginal barriers. A lovely road ride, but scary to imagine at speed.
- Several of the tighter, more exposed corners are set up with 15 foot high nylon catch nets like are seen on the edges of DH ski courses. Yikes!
- I pass through numerous small villages. All are very festive and very, very PINK. Pink is the colour of the leader’s jersey and the colour of the Giro. It is everywhere. Painted on the road. Huge banners and signs and tents in pink. T-shirts, hats, shorts, balloons – you name it, pink is the colour and clearly more favoured by men than women. Each village has set up a big party/viewing area that generally consists of tents with bars in them and lots of banners welcoming the Giro. It is around 10 am and most are filling rapidly and already very festive.
- The road is closed to public traffic but there is a steady stream of cyclists like myself going both ways, lots of official cars and trucks bustling back and forth. Occasionally a team car goes by with a rider in front of or inside it, scoping the course. Relatively peaceful and a fun ride but one had to keep eyes open!
- Now up on the high plateau above the sea, I notice two riders approaching along the course. The first is dressed in bright yellow Livestrong kit and the second, smaller rider is in Astana gear. They are followed by a brightly painted Volvo wagon in Astana colours. Hey, that’s Lance and Levi! Apparently out reviewing the sketchy fast descent part of the course (it is still more than 5 hours until they are due to start). I resist the urge to turn around and give chase…
- For a while the course is very quiet, no one around. I wonder where all the famous Italian fans are. Then I reach the top of the big climb, and I find them… I now have to pick my way carefully downhill through throngs of people for nearly all of the 8km descent of what will be the big and decisive climb of the TT. Campers, tents, cars everywhere, bicycles by the hundreds. Thousands of people, all ages, most in pink. Incredible. Large encampments, covered with big event tents, and huge banners proclaiming “Basso Fan Club” or “Cunego Cunego Cunego” populated by what looks like the entire contents of those riders’ home villages. Much road painting is completed and more still underway. I weave through the freshly painted homages to their heros . Much of the pavement on the course is fresh, providing a lovely clean chalkboard-like canvas for their work. The smoke of dozens of BBQ grills makes me hungry, the sweeter smell of many more dozens of open vino bottles makes me vigilant on my descent! Wow, this is already a bit overwhelming, and the first racer won’t be at this point for nearly 3 more hours, with the last ones still about 6 hours away!
- I continue to the bottom and into the town of Levanto to turn around and begin my assault on something a bit less than half of the course. It is very hot already and only 11 am. After seeing how busy the closed course is, I decide that a full-on (for me) time trial effort is not a great idea. Nonetheless I figure I will push a solid effort to see how this course feels to an avid amateur.
- I hit the climb and just try to soak up the atmosphere while conjuring up my mental images of being a pro rider in a TT. There are plenty of other amateurs like me doing the same thing, all in their own little dream worlds. It was a blast! The still-growing crowds were happy to cheer any riders at this point. The road was clearing up of official car traffic and some sections I was able to fly through at a grin-inducing pace. The climb was tough but steady, the false flats along the top section were punishing, and the descents were fun unless I tried to go really fast and then they were hair raisingly scary! End result? Let’s just say that my average speed was quite a bit lower than the winner’s. Sure I’m no pro rider, but I also rode only half of the course. And I had not ridden thousands of km over the past 2 weeks. Good perspective, although I didn’t really need to do the ride to know I am not pro peloton material.
- My writing skills are insufficient to describe the pure enjoyment I felt for that 50 or so minutes – riding my bike, on a beautiful day, on incredible roads with jaw-dropping scenery, along a closed course, lined with the sights, sounds and smells of the Giro, only an hour or so before the caravan and the riders would be flying through. I will never forget it.
After my course tour, my family and I loaded up a knapsack with refreshments and hiked up to the race course, explored for a good location, and eventually spent the sunny hot afternoon watching rider after rider crank by under the ‘flamme rouge’ (the 1km to go banner) which was placed on a nasty little uphill and provided a good feel for the effort and speeds.
Again, like many sporting events, being there is so much different than on TV. On one hand, you have no idea what is actually going on! No time splits or updates, it is all guessing. It was hours before I knew who had won. But on the other hand, you are there. You hear the crowd around you and listen to the banter about the race. You see the numerous camera and lead motos buzzing by, the endless team, event and official cars, usually 2-3 per rider. The TV helicopters hammer by occasionally, or hover overhead, usually a good sign of a big name coming. You feel the heat off the pavement, see the effort of the riders, hear the occasional missed shift as they desperately seek more power on the last big effort. I watched another stage of the Giro on TV a few days later and it was now different. Both somehow less exotic but even more appealing - I felt like I was there again.
If you love riding, and are lucky enough to have the chance, try to see a stage or more of one of the big tours. It is worth it. The Tour is special (stay tuned in July for a report from the Tourmalet), but I have also fallen in love with the Giro.
May won’t be the same after this and I know I’ll be back.
Part 2 of our April school break (after Paris and London mentioned above) was to head the famous Loire River Valley to ride our bikes with the kids and to visit some chateaus.
The Loire River is actually the longest in France, stretching over 1000km from the Burgogne region down to its mouth at the Atlantic coast. Its most famous area however is a 75km or so section around Amboise and Blois, which is located about 200km west and south of Paris. The area is famous primarily for its dense collection of 14th and 15th century chateaus (castles/mansions). For the same reasons that Kings and nobility built these castles, the area is still very attractive - pleasant, gently rolling countryside, a beautiful navigable river and some related tributaries, lots of woods and forests with wild game and a generally peaceful and quiet unassuming beauty. Add to these appeals a network of quiet roads and tracks as well as a growing network of bike-specific greenways, and this is a popular destination for leisure cycling and touring.
We had a feeling it would be a great place to visit with our kids (9 and 11) to do lots of riding that didn’t include traffic and/or crazy mountain trails (they are still learning to appreciate Mom and Dad’s madness). Our feeling turned out to be right! Despite some mixed spring weather during our visit, we went out every day on rides ranging from 25-45km, usually including stops at one or more chateau sites and picnics etc. The terrain is generally flat, which is great for the kids and enables them to cover longer distances. In addition the roads, farm tracks, forest paths and bike trails were welcoming and didn’t require constant supervision and worry by the parents. We had our mountain bikes with us, and they were definitely the right choice. While never challenging, lots of the trails were dirt or double-track and many of the parklands had a range of hiking and even singletrack paths that could be explored. I did head out for some longer exploration rides on my own, mostly on roads and a road bike would have been appreciated for that - like much of France, this area has a huge network of good quiet roads so although flat, there would be great opportunities for longer road rides.
The biggest challenge we found was that there is still not one resource for planning routes or finding the best ways from one chateau to the next. We were able to pull together good loops in most cases, but not without some google and map homework. There is one notable area south of the town of Blois, where a very good network has been developed already - 10-12 different routes totalling some 300km of varying themes, all well signposted and described on a good map. This was by far our favourite area for that reason. There is a master plan in the larger Loire Valley area to eventually extend that network including a route that will run the entire length of the Loire! Another option of course is the huge number of outfitters that will provide a package tour with guides and accomodations etc to have you riding around for a weekend or a week fully supported. These range from basic to very luxury and if you don’t have the inclination or time to plan your own details are likely well worth the cost, although may remove some of the excitement and “fun accidents” that happen when you are figuring things out on your own.
A few words about the Chateaus. Imagine visiting a 4-500 year old riverside castle that looks like it comes from a fairy tale book. Massive and ornate buildings, moats, towers, huge ornamental gardens, all surrounded by thousands of acreas of its own well tended gardens, woodlands and parks. That would make an interesting tourist attraction. Now imagine dozens of them in a 50 or so km radius! That is the reality of this area of the Loire. Each is unique with its own varied history. Some are still privately owned, some even by descendents of the original builders. Many now belong to the state. Some are incredibly huge and others rather small for a castle. Overall, one is left staggered by the concentration of wealth and power that these must have represented 500 years ago when kings and nobility built them, often as “getaways” that would be used only occasionally. We liked Chenonceaux(built across the river Cher), Cheverny (lived in by its owners until only 10 years ago) and Chambord (the biggest of them all, truly excessive with over 400 rooms, and built as a “hunting lodge” (no kidding) by King Francois I with 15,000 acres of grounds plus many thousands more of reserve around that.
Bottom line - coming to France and considering a laid-back cycling excursion or a family-centric outdoor exploration? The Loire Valley is a great choice!
We recently took a trip up to Paris and London while the kids were on a school break. Incredible cities, but not really destinations you would consider to take your bike. So we didn’t - but this blog entry reflects on the cycling culture developments we witnessed while in those cities.
For about 5 years, ending back in 2004, I used to travel to London regularly and Paris occasionally. Incredible cities that they are, one did not often see bikes in the streets in those cities, and only the most hard core riders seemed to brave the streets for commuting let alone pleasure riding. What a difference now, obvious wherever we went in both London and Paris!
In 2007, Paris launched the “Velib” system - a network of pay per use bikes set up at hundreds of centres around the city. This introduction was combined with a big effort to add bike lanes on streets and greenways throughout the city. The program was an instant success and now has over 20,000 bikes and some 1500 stations throughout the city. You see these bikes everyhere! One swipes their card at a station, which unlocks the bike. Ride to your destination and relock the bike and the clock stops. The pricing is free for the first half hour and given the preponderance of stations they make an excellent commuting option which thousands of people per day take advantage of. The Paris system is by far the largest of its type in the world, but many more have started around Europe and at least one is set to go in Canada in Montreal.
London has also made great recent strides in encouraging cycling for regular commuting and transportation. On one hand, traffic is so bad there that you’d think it was an obvious choice. On the other hand, until recently, traffic was so bad and streets so narrow that only the very brave or very foolish chose to do battle on a bike. In just the last couple of years, London has increased parking and other fees in the city but also made significant investments in cycling lanes throughout the metropolitan area - no small task as anyone who has walked or driven around London knows. These changes, along with a groundswell of public support, have led to a vast increase in the number of cyclists - estimated to be around 500,000 bike trips per day now, up something like 90% over just 10 years ago. We saw riders everywhere in our extensive ramblings of the city. And London has announced plans to increase that rate by 200% by 2016 with more infrastructure investments, financial incentives and a Paris-like bike hire system that will go live in 2010.
If teeming, huge old cities like London and Paris can do it, here’s hoping we see this trend of embracing cycling continue to expand in Canada as well!
Below is a common sight in London - a full bike lock-up, this one on the edge of the Financial district of the City. The second photo is of one of the 1450 Velib stations in Paris.
First of all, a weather update for those back in cold/wet/snowy Canada. The Mistral still makes an occasional visit, but it is a warmer wind and the days generally keep improving. You road riders out there will appreciate that no matter how sunny the day, a 50-70km/hr “saskatchewan uphill” can reduce the enjoyment of your spin. However, perhaps as a local indicator of summer arriving (apparently there is no spring here), I noticed on my road rides this week that the signs posted in some rural areas warning of “Verglas Frequent” (Black Ice Common) have been replaced by ones warning of the risk of forest and grass fire. Bottom line - my cyclist’s tan is returning and the roads continue to beckon.
2000km check-up My Garmin GPS (an often essential tool for navigating the roads and villages) tells me that I have already logged some 2000k since arriving in France. Most of that has been exploring regional roads, riding with Mo or visiting family and with new local friends. Not training rides particularly, but at least the km are helping my body to wage a pitched battle with the cheese, bread, wine and pastries that are so available and that this country is so darn good at. The dry road riding has meant little maintenance on the bikes, and so far the Rocky Mountain Solo Team Carbon has been flawless. It has proven a great choice for the hilly, rolling rides of the area - light, quick handling and comfortable without being too flexy. I can’t wait to get it to Ventoux and the Alps later in the season. 2000k, and I have still only scratched the surface of rides around here - wow.
2009 Ronde d’Aix
Last weekend, we had the chance to check out a professional criterium race in our local city of Aix en Provence. My brother and his family were in town, so we all headed down to the old city area on a sunny Sunday afternoon to see what it would be like. The Ronde d’Aix was in its 61st edition this year and is a great example of the pro criterium races that happen all around Europe for most of the season. These races often attract (apparently with appearance fees) a good group of top-echelon riders so the racing is fast and exciting. The Ronde d’Aix is no exception - a surprisingly low key affair, it is put on by a local cycling club and happens on a picturesque circuit at the heart of Aix - about 1km with a roundabout at each end, including the famous Fontaine de la Rotonde (see backdrop of photo below) at the entry to the bustling Cours Mirabeau. Past winners over the years have included such names as Anquetil, Merckx, Hinault, Fignon, Jalabert, Zabel, Basso and Hushovd. This year’s race included some names like Sylvain Chavanel, Nicolas Roche, Davide Rebellin, Gilberto Simoni, Julien Absalon and several others.
The 80 lap race started slowly and even casually, making eager amateurs like myself briefly imagine “hey I could keep up with that pack”. After a few laps though, the intensity ramped and quickly the speeds, tactics and attacks made it clear why these guys get paid to ride. Chavanel was the eventual winner (fresh off finishing the punishing 298km Milan San Remo the day before - see second photo below) Good fun. Kind of like watching the Tuesday nighters at UBC… except for being in an historic medieval town, with Euro-pro riders in the pack…
VTT
All this chatter about road riding, from a fuzzy-legged mountain biker from BC… Yes, we brought our mountain bikes and yes we are starting to use them! VTT = Velos Tout Terrain (Mountain Biking) While France is in some ways to road riding what BC is to mountain biking, it turns out that France has mountains, dirt trails and wild spaces (and a few world champions in most disciplines of off-road). The trails in our department are not perhaps as easy to find as on the North Shore, but with a bit of research, a sharp eye while riding the roads, as well as some weekend hikes with the kids, we have been identifying areas to get off the road on our bikes. This last week we twice went and explored a large area north and east of Marseille called “Chaine d’Etoile”. It is a large series of uninhabited ridges of about 300-400 m in elevation and it absolutely criss-crossed with fireroads, atv trails, game trails, hiking paths and yes - even some singletrack! The vegetation is somewhat scrubby and desert-like, called “garrigue” - but this along with the elevation changes allows for wide ranging views and an ability to explore trails without getting too lost. (We did pick up some topos as it is big enough and contoured enough that a 2 hour ride could easily become an unintentional 4 hours with a few wrong turns. The tops of the ridges provide glorious views in all directions including south to of the port of Marseille, the Mediterranean, north to Mont Ste Victoire and even Ventoux. The hilly ridges and endless choices of route make for a fun and challenging ride. BC singletrack it ain’t, but fun ripping in the dirt it is! We’ve got more VTT adventures planned and will bring a camera next time!
Paris-Nice Stage March 13
OK, here’s one for the “how did you spend your Friday” file…
- dropped kids off at school for 8:45. Back home, load road bikes and gear in car
- drive 50km up the road to French town of Manosque.
- sun is shining, 20 degrees C
- hop on bikes - take a road spin for a couple of hours
- ride is following the route of the 2009 Paris-Nice stage 6, which is coming through in about 2 hours time…
- great ride, route is easy to find by following course markings, intermediate sprint signs and best climber markers at tops of cols.
- ride with and chat with a group of locals for a while who are heading up to the final mountain top finish. Enjoy the odd but addictive mix of fan excitement and rural calm and the general vibe of a pro race coming through soon.
- complete the 3rd and 2nd last climbs of the course, with incredible views of the Luberon and Mt Ventoux as backdrop. (sadly no time to go to the finish up Cat 1 Montagne de Lure and still get the kids from school)
- retrace route to Manosque. Find roadside bistro terrace. Order lunch in the sunshine (there is time for this).
- enjoy lunch and a glass of wine roadside while waiting for peloton to arrive.
- stand, turn and snap photos as breakaway group passes, then a minute or so later the main peloton, already in hot pursuit before Contador’s ultimate stage victory.
- back to car, cruise home to get kids from school.
We could get used to this.
Pictures below, L to R
- Mo leading the peloton by 2 hrs over the third-category Cote des Mourres
- Mo cheering peloton in Manosque
- Astana buzzes our lunch table, chasing the breakway
As the weather improves, we are starting to explore our territory in the spiderweb of roads that radiate from our little village of Eguilles, in Provence. The possibilities are endless, and that’s just by gauging what’s on the map. What’s not on the map ( a million more little sideroads) is what leads to both joy and frustration.
The joy is in discovering a great climb or descent that was not mapped. The frustration mostly arises when trying to navigate from one side of a village to the other to pick up a road. For example, by all accounts, Michelin says the D14 goes right through Puyricard enroute to Rognes, and there really aren’t any other routes to consider. The reality is that I spent a good 15 minutes sampling every chemin and rue in the village, trying to find my ‘sortie’ (exit). I was finally able to move on to the next level of the ‘find the village exit’ video game when I met a local whose French was slow enough and clear enough for me to understand that keeping “a droite’ (to the right) would enable to me to get the heck out of Puyricard.
I’ve since learned that, thanks to Napoleon who wanted to shade his marching troops, most village exits and entrances are lined with plane trees so if I can find a tree-lined street I know I’m on the right track!
The silver lining to the ‘find the exit’ game is that we get to see lots of little villages, in detail, that we might not give a passing glance to as our two-person peleton powers on through, in our own mini Tour de France. And where there’s villages there’s boulangeries, and brioches and baguettes and boules….so many good words start with B.
On our Spain trip, we had to search out a certain bike shop we had heard of just north of Barcelona.
It is called – yes you guessed it – “Different Bikesâ€. differentbikes.es
We’re not sure if it is coincidence or flattery (DB West Van and http://www.differentbikes.ca existed first) but either way it looks like a nice shop with some great brands – and only about 500m from the Mediterranean beach is nice.
Unfortunately we were not there during the 4 hours a day they are open on weekdays! (5pm-9pm daily) so weren’t able to meet the team from DB Spain – maybe next time!
The kids were on a school break, and the weather was still pretty wintry, so we decided to do a little trip to nearby Spain to explore. It was a family trip, and cycling was not a priority, but I managed to fit my road bike in the car “just in case”.
First stop was Girona. Only 50km south of the French border and eastern Pyrenees, some of you will recognize this name as a road riding hotspot. Indeed it is the town where many pro cyclists make their winter and spring home for training. Lance has lived here. It is a fairly big urban area, with the ancient walled old town being the highlight for shopping, sightseeing and restauarants. Great road riding exists in nearly every direction according to all reports so I was keen to check some of it out, if even in small samples. There is also an extensive network of bike paths and trails more suited to mountain bikes and cross bikes. Riding not being the focus of the days, I decided to try to do a “compact ride” and to hit one of the most popular training climbs (Sant Marti Salcalm) as a direct out and back from town. Most of the pros hit this climb as a part of 4-5 hour, 100km plus training rides (Michael Barry describes the town and a couple of rides inthis great blog posting of his The moral of my first ride is to keep in mind that not all exploration rides are awesome! The direct route to the climb turned out to be a busy highway initially through some industrial parts of Girona (me getting lost for an extra 5km or so in these areas didn’t help). Eventually, things got quiter, but I got to the climb later than expected so was only able to complete about half of it before turning around but I can see why the pros train here - 8km, twisty, steep in spots, quiet and scenic! I committed to myself I would return some day and do it right! The next day, for a second ride I only had an hour-ish window, so decided to take the “pro recommended” route out of town and at least start one of the longer training loops. This little spin to the north and west of Girona unveiled why this is such a great destination for winter and spring training (along with the fact that the days were sunny and around 16 degrees) - lovely quiet roads, branching in every direction were the order of the day only about 5km from the bustling centre of Girona. I could see how long 100km plus rides on winding and climbing roads would be possible on repeated days in most directions. Like everywhere, it is important to have good information on where to go and the time to take advantage of it. There are numerous camps and tour providers that will set up and guide rides for a day or a week, and I expect it would be worth it to take advantage of the local knowledge if you plan a longer trip here. Other Girona-area highlights off the bike include the old town, cathedral and walls, the Costa Brava coast of the Mediterranean, the spectacularly bizarre Salvador Dali museum in nearby Figueres.
Stop two was 3 nights in Barcelona. About 100 km south of Girona on the Mediterranean coast sits this incredible city. The second largest in Spain after capital Madrid, it is a cosmopolitan and buzzing place that mixes historic beauty with modern flair. It would be easy to spend a week here and pack every day with sights and activities. Museums, parks, cathedrals, an ancient old town, awesome beaches, excellent food and much more - I would say it ranks with places like London, Paris, New York and Sydney as “must visit” cities. I did not get a chance to ride in or around Barcelona while there - although the cycling link is that we explored one of the hilltop parks (Montjuic) where a stage of the 2009 Tour de France will finish, after starting in Girona. Not a huge mountain, but the twisting road up this urban hill (formerly a Grand Prix racing course) will make for an exciting stage finish.
Stop three was planned after a brief visit on our initial drive south, where we discovered some nice towns (and winding roads itching to be ridden) along the Costa Brava (“rough coast”) of the Mediterranean. On we went to Tossa de Mar for our final two nights in Spain. This little town is apparently a zoo of people from all over Northern Europe from May-Sept (as is most of the sunny coast of Spain) but in early March it defines sleepy and quiet. Most hotels were closed until April and many restaurants and other services were not open. However, the weather was pleasant at about 15 degrees and the roads beckoned me (as well as the beach beckoning the kids) We found a large beachside room in one of the few open hotels for less than a third of the summer rate and booked in. I then hit the roads! This area is very popular for riding and there are a couple of large “sport hotels” that support all activities including rididng camps. I quickly found out why. Imagine 20km stretches of road with almost no traffic, no stoplights or even traffic circles, no straight lines (curves up down left and right all the time), great pavement, cliffs down to the shimmering Mediterranean on one side and forested hills (with more small quiet roads in them) rising to the other side. I was in heaven! I took a couple hours each day to explore the area and had some incredible road rides! This part of the coast is reachable by 100km loops out of Girona, or conversely you could stay on the coast and also head inland for great rides around Girona. I will be back someday to put in many km in this area.
So, a small sampling of the riding in Spain. And we didn’t even touch the roads of the Pyrenees (which are still very snowcapped right now), or try the extensive mountain biking opportunities. The cycling culture here is like France - very visibly popular, with riders seen out all the time, and cars respectful and aware of riders. The verdict - check it out if you have the chance!
Well we’ve been here for three weeks and I am just getting the VDB started. So here’s a short-ish summary of where we are and what riding has happened to date.
- First of all, the bikes. We have a small quiver here by our usual standards. One road bike each, one mountain bike each. And the kids have a mountain bike each. We travel light ?! (Actually we shipped our bikes separately to make life easier and for not much more than flying with them - we have a great shipping company that we use at the shops. And our good friends at Kona also helped us get hold of some kids bikes while here!)
For my road adventures I’m on a 2008 RM Solo Team Carbon frame all fancied out with Campagnolo Record parts, Mavic Kysyrium ES wheels, Easton carbon cockpit, King ti cages and Dura Ace pedals. 15.4 lbs as described, I have no excuses on any climbs…
Mo is riding a 2009 Kona Zing Deluxe carbon, sporting some upgrades including Ultegra shifters and cranks, Mavic Kysrium SL wheels, Easton carbon cockpit and Ultegra pedals. Just around 17 lbs, she’s got a nice handling and compliant ride for her explorations.
Mountain bikes are our trusty and well-used RMB Elements, and we hope to find some dirt for them to play in soon.
- Where are we? Until end of June we’re based in the south of France, about 10km outside of Aix en Provence. After that we’ll be touring the country until the end of July. Our area in Provence (technically the Bouche de Rhone departement) has so far proved to be an excellent location. Aix itself is a cosmopolitan university town with a wide range of amenities as well as diverse and interesting history and architecture dating to the Romans and before. Amazing road riding branches out in all directions and I have just scratched the surface of exploring it. As well we are an hour or so from Mt Ventoux, 3 hours from Barcelona and Girona, 2.5 hours to Italy, 2-3 hours to the French Alps - so many riding options, so little time!
- Riding so far. The road bikes arrived after a week, so we’ve had them for about 2. I have managed to fit in 6 or 7 rides ranging from one hour local loops to a 4 hour circuit around Mte Ste Victoire to the east of Aix. There are so many choices, so many quiet roads, climbs, flats, towns for cafe or brioche -stops. Later posts I will plan to document some rides with photos, stay tuned. For mountain biking, we have only explored a few local trails to our village so far. We know there are some great areas around Aix for riding and will continue to look for more places to “VTT” (Velo Tout Terrain). I have already been introduced to a few local road rides and riding groups and will plan to explore with them when possible. As for the riding culture - I can say that so far on every ride I have always seen numerous other riders and groups out - regardless of time of day or road that I am on. And remember it is still winter here too - the weather is sunny but overnight lows can be below zero and highs around 8-13 so far.
- A few bike-related plansOur plans will no doubt evolve but here’s a few things we hope to check out: possibly a stage of Paris-Nice (comes by not far from here this year); A stage of the Giro d’italia (the time trial stage is only 4 hours away); some Tour stages in July; possibly a Spring classic or two in the north; sample the riding in Girona Spain as well as Barcelona area, riding in the Alps, hopefully a local randonee or race or two; and much more!
Vélos Différents = “Different Bikes” in French. And more specifically in the case of this blog, in France.
A few of us from the Different Bikes gang (Andy, Mo and family) are on a little adventure living in France from Feb-Jul 2009. The trip is not all about biking, but we do plan to do and see more than our share of riding while here. We’ll update this thread blog-style with our riding experiences as well as observations about the riding culture and events here.
If you have questions about our stories or our France adventure - PM us through this forum or email us andy at differentbikes.ca or mo at differentbikes.ca . We’re online daily and doing much of our part in the business while here!
And of course, comments, ideas and observations are also welcome directly on this forum thread!
