A ride in the Trieves
The Trieves is a beautiful region south of Grenoble that we have not explored very much. It contains the Mont Aiguille and a string of picturesque small towns, all on rolling hills ringed by mountains. My first ride with Hank more than a year ago was in the Trieves, and I wanted to go back. There was one col in particular which I had seen recently called the Col du Noyer. After a few terse emails between us it was on. We parked at Pellafol, suited up, discussed the impressively cold temperatures (at least for a Bay Area wuss like myself) and we were off. We headed down the D217b into a sharp sided ravine. A few turns still had frost on them and the grass was still white in the shadows. Over the bridge, up the steepish road and the legs were finally beginning to warm up. Then it was descent time again. After a left handed turn in the road I noticed my front wheel move a bit, and then I heard the sickening clatter of road bike against pavement. It's such a distinctive sound, and one that always makes me queasy. I glance backwards and I don't see Hank anymore, but there was a sliding sound. I remember actually saying "uh oh" and then my front wheel
was out and my bike was on the ground too. We had come across a huge sheet of totally black ice. Usually there is some kind of clue: tire marks, frost at the edge of the road.. something! This time there was nothing, even off the bike and standing still it looked no different from tarmac. I've only seen that a few times in my life actually. Anyway, We dust ourselves off: shifter and RD missing some varnish, half of my cleat broken off. Hank makes his way down the road on foot: an impressive bloody gash on his palm but somehow he's still smiling. He tells me that it was lucky there was so much ice to cushion his fall. I think I'll start calling him "Jens". Somehow, with half a cleat I was still able to clip in, albeit with a lot more float than usual.
Onwards on small roads. We end up at an intersection and opt for the smaller road, which after a pretty decent climb confronts us with a "Road Closed" sign. We press on. There is a foot path over an impressive drop to the valley floor. Velotel shoulders his bike and charges down the rocky footpath. I follow, branches pinging off my wheels. Next it's rolling hills, past broken castles and farms, and then to the base of the Col du Noyer. It kicked up immediately into a respectable grade, then through some hamlets and then into the business of the climb. It's stunning scenery and the top looks a bit like Izoard to me. Neither of us could believe how beautiful and wild it was up there, and how unexpected. It looked so out of place somehow. Then over the col, and a ginger descent over potentially icy roads, but happily no more close encounters of the road kind. Down a hill and I can see a huge white dog amidst a flock of sheep notice Hank and take off towards him. I actually thought it was a sheep at first because it was the same size as one, but whiter. Another mishap about to happen? No, the dog hits a small section of orange fencing and gives up. From here, it's all downhill and back to the car. 64km, 1400m gain and a stunning loop. a must do, and in the direction we did it IMO. Video and photos below:
