Me and my big Mountain
FIVE years ago I began riding a road bike and in that time I have developed a healthy respect for the Alps.
I’ve been lucky enough to have had some some good days riding the Cols, admittedly at nowhere near the speed they do on television during the Tour de France.
Unfortunately, I had one very bad day, too — in 2015 when I had to climb off the bike in the final kilometres of the gruelling Marmotte grand fondo, suffering from heat exhaustion.
So I know just how cruel the mountain range can be.
Last summer I had planned on tackling the Marmotte again, but changed my plans when I learned a bunch of guys in my cycling club, Orwell Wheelers, wanted to do something much more epic.
“Never mind a one-day event. Why don’t you come with us and ride all of the Alps over six days?” one of them said. I didn’t need to be asked twice.
So last August, I was in a group of 18 that did just that. Well, most of the the classic climbs anyway: Cormet de Roseland, Col du Galibier, Col de la Madeleine and Alpe d’Huez to name a few.
But a day that really sticks out in my mind is the one when we took on the Col d’Iseran, the highest pass in the Alps.
You see, in Ireland you don’t get long climbs. The Wicklow Gap is the longest I know of, and that’s only 7.2km from bottom to top, with another 3km if you venture across a barrier blocking the road to Turlough Hill.
In comparison, the Col d’Iseran is a monster. From our starting point in Séez it was 44km to the top, with 1,965m of ascent along the way to the pass, which is 2,764m above sea level.
It is also one of those climbs that starts out easy enough, lulling you into a false sense of security, before getting increasingly difficult the closer you get to Col.
The climbing pretty much began from the off and after 22km, two of us decided to take a small diversion off the route into the charming little ski resort of Val Claret. This added 9km and 400m of climbing onto our day, but was well worth the detour as we got to see riders from the pro team Cofidis being put through their paces on a training camp.
Rejoining the route, we went through a series of nerve-wracking tunnels.
I lost count of how many, but there were several, varying in length between around 150 metres and 600 metres. One was not lit and the sound of approaching cars echoing in the tunnel had the hair standing on my neck. I was glad to have a bright light on the back of my bike.
After the tunnels came the Val D’Isere ski resort, where the gradient evened off a bit. A quick stop to buy a ham and cheese roll (more of that later) and the climbing resumed.
It was relentless and, if you like this sort of thing, quite brilliant too. The views were spectacular, if a little desolate.
With each passing kilometre, a stone on the side of the road reminded me how close I was getting to the top, but also let me know how steep the gradient was. Most stretches were 6, 7 and 8 per cent.
Above 2,400m, the oxygen was noticeably thinner and the air much colder.
The toughest stretch was the final few kilometres and I felt a real sense of achievement and quite a bit of windchill at the top.
We were assisted on the trip by Marmot Tours, a cycle touring company that helped ferry our gear from A to B. I was never so glad to see their guide, Merv Capewell, waiting for me in his van.
After the obligatory photos I was straight over to the van for a jacket and my sandwich roll, which, after the efforts of the previous few hours, tasted better than any Michelin star meal possibly could.
The chill meant it was not the sort of place I felt like hanging about for too long, and soon I was descending for 15km to Bessans to meet up with the rest of the group.
Later that day we did another climb near Lanslevillard, the 10km Col du Mont Cenis.
It was a bit of a brute, switchbacking through a forest with most stretches having a gradient of 8 or 9 per cent.
But it was mercifully short compared with what went before, and the top brought the reward of stunning views across a lake to Italy.
It was a thing of beauty to follow the Col d’Iseran beast.