Cycling Tour of the Southern Alps: Day 5 - Jausiers to Isola over the Cime de la Bonette

Saturday 28th August

A view from the top!

Watch Robert Millar over the Bonette in 1993

The third time they included the Col de la Bonette in the Tour de France in 1993, Paul Sherwen was quoted to have said it was 'the worst climb he had ever seen' and that he was 'rather pleased that they never included this climb during his years in the Tour.' It was these words that sat with me, right in the pit of my stomach early on Saturday morning as we psyched ourselves up for the giant climb out of Jausiers. Tour memorabilia still lies scattered all over the town; the jerseys hang from bedroom windows and a giant 'Bienvenue au Tour' still stands as a recent memory of when the riders rolled through in 2008. It felt momentous as we rolled out of our hotel driveway at 8am to tackle the Bonette.

It isn't the steepest climb, far from it. It averages 6.6% and includes a number of forgiving flatter stretches, which cannot be underestimated for their recovery powers. But, it is the highest road pass in Europe after planners added a loop around the Cime at the top of the mountain, and at 2802m you begin to feel the effects of altitude at the top. Not to mention the fact that it is a mammoth, strength sapping 23km from bottom to top.

Conditions on Day 5 were so much more favourable though. It was a cool, shady morning, with a touch of moisture still in the air. This allowed us to settle into a very smooth, relaxed early rhythm. There were also a huge number of cyclists out tackling the climb and it makes an immeasurable difference being able to ride rhythm alongside or behind other riders. The first 12km are conducive to strong tempo riding, never really going beyond 6-6.5% and keeping a steady gradient all the way. In fact I was shocked when I found that I'd got halfway up the climb in around an hour.

The second half though really put the skill, and the courage that it takes to climb mountain passes like the pros do in perspective. 8-12km can actually go by rather smoothly, even quickly. But at some point, no matter how much you've eaten, or drunk, or trained and prepared, your legs are simply going to want to stop. The front wheel of your bike begins to look for shallower gradients, almost instinctively. It begins to feel as though the bike is no longer rolling along the tarmac but ploughing straight into it, stubbornly and desperately trying to grind to a halt. Not to mention that the steepest sections come in this later part of the climb!

It is the length of the Bonette that really begins to tell, as km after km ticks by and still the top does not come as you climb at ever higher altitudes into thinning oxygen. At roughly 2k to go though comes perhaps the most rewarding and breathtaking parts of the climb itself. Here the road levels out completely into a procession up to the Col de la Bonette and finally the brutal 15% ramp up to the Cime itself. That stretch of tarmac is the most rewarding I have ridden. As I got my breath back for the final push, rolling along that plateau, I really looked around me, at the tops of the entire Southern Alpine range from 2800m above sea level. I became awash with the most incredible feeling of exhaustion and achievement, a whole body sensation that actually made me want to cry out and sprint to the top (I'm sure my legs would have mutinied if I'd tried). It was the absolute peak of my trip and I will always remember that moment.

We savoured the views for a long time before cruising the remaining 50 or so km to Isola, a really stunning alpine descent that soared downhill almost all the way. More of descents later.

Cycling Tour of the Southern Alps: Day 4 - Barcelonette to Jausiers

Friday 27th August

We woke up on day 4 to find that unfortunately our planned climb, the Col de Larche, required the right insurance, and had been closed on and off for the past few years to cyclists and motorcyclists. While there were countless climbs out of Barcelonette, we had a circular route to keep to and decided to reroute, planning a short roll down to Jausiers at about 10km, essentially a day off, before tackling the Cime de la Bonette on day 5.

The legs were certainly grateful for the day off. We used it to refuel, relax and even took our bikes to a legendary local bike shop, run by a Frenchman who was as old as the mountains and had been repairing bikes in Barcelonette for decades. He had the most effective chain link removal tool I've ever seen and I spent a good 10 minutes admiring it. Sadly I've been unable to find one like it since.

Adam relaxing in Barcelonette

Cycling Tour of the Southern Alps: Day 3 - The Col de la Cayolle

Thursday 26th August

The last hour of my life can only be described as possibly the most strenuous and torturous I've faced, certainly physically. Though hardly unrelentingly steep the Col de la Cayolle is pretty constant, snaking its way up the valley before hitting the wall of mountain which forces it to arch its way up in hairpin bends from the commune of Estenco. It is an imposing but mightily impressive mountain which deserves more than the apathy with which many visitors seem to treat it. It is not particularly rugged or wild, in fact rather immaculate, like a painting. The views back down the valley of lush green and earthen red rock are grandiose.

Looking back down the climb at the lush valley

What is most noticeable though is how exposed the Col feels. The heat today was fierce, seeming to burn the rock and the road underneath my wheels. It completely saps your energy, tightens your lungs and takes your breath away. Within minutes of starting the climb I was pouring with sweat from every pore and I simply didn't have enough water. I knew I would have to consolidate and ration it until I found a fountain, but all I wanted to do was pour one bottle down my throat and the other over my head.

From about 5km out I hit the wall completely. My legs died and felt like lead, my lungs gave in and no matter how many gels I gobbled I simply could not find a rhythm. It was all I could do to grind out metre after metre after metre. From 4km out I was stopping every 200 metres just to recover, until finally that 2km to go sign seemed to give me some reserve that I didn't realise I had. I'd hardly say I flew up that final part but it certainly felt like it.

The Refuge de la Cayolle awaits you at the top and all I could think of was cold coca-cola, but alas, it should be called the Col de lack of Coca-Cayolla. It has to be said though, the lemonade there tastes like crystal water and it is a beautiful summit. I sat in awe for quite some time as the endorphins literally coarsed through my body. It was a tough first two days, for which my diary was a fitting testament. As I wrote my entry at top of the Cayolle, the cover was literally soaked to the spine with my sweat.

The Refuge de Cayolle, in brilliant sunshine

Cycling Tour of the Southern Alps: Day 2 - Puget-Theniers to Guillaumes

Wednesday 25th August

So, we had our breakfast of tea, coffee, juice and chocolate milk to wash down about 8 varieties of croissant and bread, then made our way to the bus stop for the 8am bus to Decathlon in Lingostiere, just outside Nice. However, the bus was full and there wouldn't be another one till the afternoon. We waited an hour then made it to the station for the 9.30am train to Lingostiere, but that too was full. It is impossible to account for the inefficiencies of provincial life when you're used to the arguably reliable London tube. So, we sat outside our Hotel Alize and ordered a cab hoping that, assuming the cab too wasn't full we might just make it there that morning and be on the road by 11am...OK well at least that day.

Though not the hardest day of our tour, it was the longest, yet still only 73km, and with 1525m of height gain. Logistically though it was always going to be tough, following our rushed trip to Decathlon in the morning. We only got going at 3pm and it was a very slow start as we found our legs, adjusted our bikes, bags and even offloaded luggage. I think we were both shocked at how restrictive the heat was and what a hinderance our luggage was going to be. A heavy bag makes climbing out of the saddle a very different experience.

When we found ourselves gliding along the river valley of the Gorge Daluis however, at 10pm, illuminated only by the light of the moon, it felt like we had lost our way somewhere, even left this world and taken a detour to some other more celestial place! It was hard to fully appreciate the awe-inspiring surroundings: the moonshine sparkle of the river, the ominous silhouettes of the mountains as they closed in with the growing darkness, the secretive cut-through tunnels which we were forced to negotiate on foot in the pitch black. At the forefront of your mind at times like this is the logistical stuff, the need to eat, drink, sleep, get to the hotel before it closes. But somewhere among those anxious thoughts was a contented admiration for the unbelievable scene around us.

Adam's thoughts summed it up perfectly. It may not have been the smoothest day, but this is what it was all about. 5 days a week, nearly every week of the year we work in boring jobs, in offices made of glass, brick and steel. It's important to remember to look up now and then when you're surrounded by such environs, and simply appreciate what you see before you.

Cycling Tour of the Southern Alps 2010: Day 1 - Puget-Theniers

 Tuesday 24th August

My friend Adam and I arrived in Puget-Theniers, France, on the 24th August 2010 to begin a 5 day tour of the Southern Alps in aid of Alzheimer's Society. I ride my bike a lot, but I have never even been close to a mountain on a bike. The whole thing started to seem a little bit daunting on arrival, as the topography literally begins to rise thousands of meters up ahead of you. Adam had only been riding his bike for a month! Unfortunately, we had bigger issues to worry about before we could even consider hitting the road.

There was almost a sense of inevitability about the potentially trip derailing incident that occurred upon our arrival. Not much more than a month after 'chaingate' shattered Andy Schleck's very real chance of peeling the maillot jaune off Alberto Contador's back, it was a chain that nearly cut short out entire trip before one revolution of a wheel.

It was a cruel reminder of the fact that a bicycle is a fallible and vulnerable mechanical object, prone to wear and tear, damage and ongoing problems, much like ourselves. Perhaps this is why we become so attached to our machines as we begin to understand their little glitches like tiny traits or flaws in their personality. They require an unbelievable amount of love and attention.

It was just so inevitable though, that after 3 hours of arduous transit, nearly an hour of setting the bikes up in soaring 37 degree heat and coming down to quite literally the last link in the chain, that link was missing - the quick release link. A tiny piece only 1.5cm long, nowhere to be found among all that metal. A careful repair later and it seemed like disaster had been averted, until a short test ride uphill exposed its fragility and I came crashing down as soon as I put any real force through the drivetrain.

Thank heavens for 'Decathlon', France's answer to Halfords you might say. And thank heavens for heroic hoteliers who are willing to expend the kind of effort that I am simply not used to. I put it down to being a city boy, people just don't have the time to help you out in the same way.  In any case, half an hour after explaining our desperate need for a new chain, or 'shain', we resolved to set off to Decathlon, an hour's drive away, at 8am. With any luck we might still be on the road by 11am.