I rode up Alpe d'Huez with Akeo, then over the Sarenne, down through Mizoen, then across the dam, down to Freney and across the shelf road. I'm still "digesting" the ride, but the Sarenne descent (Eastern side) is phenomenal, just for the views. It was unfortunately being graveled, but that wasn't an issue because I was enjoying the views so much. It looks like it might be a pretty amazing climb too -- must go back and try it. The whole area has a wild feel to it which is in stark contrast to the road to Alpe d'Huez and Alpe d'Huez itself. And speaking of which, Alpe d'Huez itself went ok, but I was pretty slow. The climb out of le Freney wore me down after all the earlier climbing, but the payoff is one of the most amazing roads I have been on in France. I had actually seen it many times from the road between Bourg and Lautaret, and always wondered how you get up there. Route planning on Strava showed me how to make the connection, and I'm so glad I took the time

a pedal

embedded in the asphalt on the Rue des Martyrs. A martyred pedal, for the cause.

Climbing!

at the Jardin suspendu

Mortier

Rode up almost to the Mortier tunnel… Lovely riding

We are everywhere

So I was watching TV last night: a show called "Dirty Jobs" where Mike Rowe is roped into doing horrible jobs. Tonight was blueberry harvesting. Here it is:


As I was watching it, I was thinking that the blueberry guy looked awfully familiar. I was wondering where I had seen this crazy blueberry picker before, and suddenly at the end, it clicked: College! And not only that, we had been on the cycling team together. He was (is, I'm sure, but I havent talked to him since college) a super nice guy, and even accompanied me back over Petersburg Pass after I bonked one time during a training ride. Anyway, it was really funny to see him on the show. Looks like he still cycles, too.

Charmette + Mont Saint Martin

Rode both tough climbs today... didn't feel too bad. Legs making their grand retour?

Island for sale

When I was growing up in the bay area, we would frequently travel over the Richmond San Rafael bridge: a hideous steel trestled span that links, well you know what it links. The bridge itself was not interesting, but there was a gap in between the guard rail and the tarmac through which you could see down into the water. Sometimes, at low tide you could see a shoal of rocks near the Chevron piers which would always be carpeted in harbor seals. You could also see a small red island, rising out of the water. It is tiny, with steep sides, has a few small beaches and what looks like a cave on one side. I always wondered what it would be like to go visit it. Later on, I found out that it is a private island: the only one in the SF bay. Various people have owned it in the last century, and its red soil has been used for ballast for ships. I was reminded of the island because of a news story stating that it is again for sale



Yours for only 5 million USD!

Anyway, Red Rock Island always reminds me of a dear family friend of ours: Karl Kasten. We talked about the island a few times together, and it turned out that one of his professors (Worth Ryder) had painted it from the Richmond side, as had Karl. On one occasion, we dug through his amazing study to find some photos of his paintings, which was a real treat. We miss you, Karl.

Future pizzaiolos?

Galibier

Martin and I left around 7:00 AM to beat the heat and were in the Maurienne by half past eight or so. The plan was to do Telegraphe and Galbier -- my first time on Telegraphe and first time on Galibier from this side.

The first sign of trouble was that my stomach was cramping up as soon as I got out of the car. Luckily there was a nearby bathroom, so the the crisis was averted (or postponed at least). Next problem, I get on the bike... and the legs feel like .. wood? Not a wonderful feeling at the start of a climb like this! I was still optimistic that they would loosen up and start feeling better. Little did I know that those legs would be with me for the whole ride! Telegraphe was going ok though, for a while. It was my first time on it, and it felt and looked like a lot of other climbs I've been on. Things changed when we hit the gravel; they were resurfacing the road and had left a thick layer of gravel on the road. It felt like I was treading water. Later on we ran into an unfortunate dutchman who had gotten gravel into the chain and derailleur and it had somehow sheared the entire derailleur off! I wasn't thinking about this possibility at all at the time, but was simple trying to get through it while saving some gas for the excitement ahead. Eight hundred and fifty meters of gain later, we were at the col. This would normally be a decent amount of climbing in itself. There was gravel on the short descent to Valloire, and then the big climb started. Right outside of Valloire, a busload of Belgians in red "BELGIAN POWER" jersies were unloading bikes, so it looked like we would have company. Unfortunately, there was a lot of wind blowing down the valley towards us, and I was soon climbing in the drops. I was already hurting at this point, and when we got to plan Lachat, I slipped into full survival mode: just concentrate on the part of the road I can see in front of me, don't look at the switchbacks high up the mountain. Mercifully, for the first part you can't see very far ahead of you. Once I broke out onto the plateau however, I found myself trying to remember where the col was on the ridge line, since I sure as hell couldn't see where it was. Was it to the left of the power lines? To the right? No matter, press on. Even in pain, it's a glorious climb: sweeping views into empty valleys, snowbanks going by, descending cyclists with huge grins on their faces -- magic. I rode past the tunnel turnoff and up to the infamous final ramps. It felt like I was going about half as fast as the previous time on Galibier from the other side, and I was. I remember looking down from the col a few weeks ago and seeing people walking their bikes up this section, standing on the side of the road, and sitting on rocks: a wasteland of broken cyclists. Along the penultimate sharp right hand turn, a moto caravan was coming up behind me and one of them tipped over at low speed. The front wheel came within a foot of mine. I yelled, looked back to see that they were ok, and left them to their biddies. Like I said: survival mode. Every ounce of energy was focused on the col which was almost in sight. The last section seems almost flat, but long. I'm turning the cranks, but it doesn't seem to be getting closer! Eventually, I roll into the lot, feeling worse than I can remember ever having felt on a climb. It really was a long way to have gone with bad legs, and I was happy to have the climbing behind me. From there, blissful descending, which while requiring 100% focus to not go off a cliff, did not require any more contribution from my wooden legs. A huge troupe of sheep stopped traffic for a while after Plan Lachat, and I managed to keep up with some motos for a while. After Valloire, a small climb back to Telegraphe, which was agony (and in the gravel) and then the descent to the Maurienne, which was also pretty slow in the gravel. At least the top part was clean. A tough day.

Chamonix, day two

The first order of business was a quick ride. The apartment is not far from the Joux Plane which meant that there was no way I was leaving my bike in Grenoble. Sunday morning I got up as early as I could, which was tough considering Friday night and yesterday's packed day, went into rally driving mode to get to Samoens, got the bike ready and sped off within a few minutes of getting to the town center (which is really pretty). Some kind of MTB event was happening and there were a lot of fit people in armor and fancy looking bikes cruising around town. No time for ogling this morning though! I followed the signs to the col and soon found myself on some pretty steep terrain, but with amazing views of the Mont Blanc. The climb is quite tough -- I think it merits it's reputation, and particularly because the slope is so variable and generally hard. Towards the top, you get a few spectacular hairpins with views, and it eventually opens up to a gentle slope to the col. Overall, I think it's a fantastic climb which I highly recommend. I was pretty bummed not to be able to do a longer ride and at least descend to Morzine, but I guess I gotta leave something for another day. Instead, I sped back down the hill and rallied back to Passy. I told Hank about how pressed I was and funnily enough he had the same experience when he rode it -- family/friend obligations made for a quick out and back as well.

video:


Next it was family time! After some quick internet research we decided to take the Gondolas up the south slope of the valley to Brévent. This turned out to be a rather expensive trip, but then again, it's Chamonix after all! The kids of course loved both Gondola rides to the top, and nearly gave us heart attacks with all of their running around. At one point Alex managed to almost open a gate which led to ... a fairly healthy drop.. into a bed of pillows, for any grandparents that might be reading this!













From there, it was back to the Chalet to pack stuff up, clean, and start the drive back home. At the Crolles payage, I amazingly saw another McLaren!! This one was metallic orange. We also saw a convoy of porsches on the road between Albertville and Megeve. I counted at least 25, of all makes and years... mostly in a row. Crazy.

Chamonix, day one

Yesterday I asked Franck about Nevache: a small town near Briancon that Chloe and I were thinking about driving to this weekend. In the course of the conversation, he very generously offered for us to stay at his place just down the valley from Chamonix, which I gratefully accepted. So after getting the key and instructions last night, we drove to Chamoix today. Unfortunately, last night there was a friendly fire pee accident: Alex, who is almost potty trained, got into our bed, and woke us up around 4 AM with a stream of Alex pee. It turns out that getting peed upon is not a very pleasant way to wake up, and none of us got very much sleep after everything and everyone was clean. So anyway, we slept in a little later than we had planned this morning, and left a little bit later than we planned since we had to wait for the washing machine to finish. As usual, the jerk Tabac owner woke us up with his alarm at 6:00 AM though, like every morning since last October.

Once underway, we headed to Chamonix via Albertville, and stopped at the Beaufort cooperative to load up on cheese, honey and other staples. They had a laser guided hydraulic cheese cutter there, which I was very impressed by.




From Albertville, we drove up through Megeve (I always think of the opening scene in "Charade" when I see the Megeve sign), down through St. Gervais and to the apartment. The apartment was in a huge Chalet, and the kids were overjoyed at all the books and toys around. It took a lot of corralling to prevent them from fully disassembling the place. We quickly got them out of there, to minimize damage, and went to the Parc Animalier de Merlet, which was fantastic. It's an enclosed space on the flanks of the valley with herds of Chamois, mountain goats, deer and other animals. Even better: it has spectacular views of the massif de Mont Blanc. The kids really had a great time and I was not making very much forward progress because I was taking so many pictures, marveling at the mountains and glaciers, trying to identify famous climbs and peering through the binoculars to find well known refuges, like the Refuge des Cosmiques.














From there, we descended to Chamonix for dinner, and went to the Annapurna Indian Restaurant: not recommended at all. Walking to the car, I saw another McLaren MP4-12C -- there must be a sale at the McLaren dealership ("Everything must GO!")or something. I don't get it though -- I went from never having seen a McLaren in my life to seeing two different cars in a week? The other explanation is that the Genevois are starting to go on holiday

Dinner out!

Father's day!

Chamrousse

finally rode Chamrousse: nice, but not in the same league as Galibier!