Day 4 – The Hard One
In truth, this was the day I was worried about. It was the day when things could go wrong. The planned route from our second base in Briancon was to climb the Montegenevre and descend into Italy. Then we would climb the hard side of the Col du Mont Cenis (the Colle del Montcenisio as it is largely an Italian climb) and then descend to St Martin du Maurienne so that we could finish with the double of Col du Telegraphe and Col du Galibier. Apart from the 4500m of climbing in 207km the real threat was by St Michel du Maurienne, the only way back would be over the monster that is the Col du Galibier.
Based on our previous rides we reckoned that we would have to ride well to complete the route in 12 hours. Breakfast didn’t start until 7:30 so there wasn’t a lot of room for manoeuvre. At least it was a bright cool sunny morning. I took this as encouragement to set a fast pace up the Montgenevre, about 900m per hour. This set up a long series of swoops as far as the strangely named Oulx, which feels like it should come out of Belgium. The cobbled streets were certainly more reminiscent of northern Europe.
Then we fought a headwind to get to Susa, at 58km, 2 hours from the start. Memories of the Mille Miglia inspired a raid on a bar for café doppios and pastries and thus fortified we set off into scorching heat for the 1600m in 24km ascent of the Moncenisio, the single biggest climb of our tour (just about shading Mont Ventoux). We went from sweltering chestnut forest to sub-alpine moorland at a steady cadence, not breaking rhythm for an astonishing 109 minutes before reaching the summit and prevailing on a hitchhiker to take a celebratory photo. We were well ahead of schedule and stormed down the French side, the Col du Mont Cenis, reaching probably the highest speeds of the trip so far (it takes a lot to brake from 40mph to 30mph).
We were heading for Modane for lunch when I punctured and so we stopped for a sandwich at some desolate town. Then we had a high-speed dash to St Michel and the Col du Telegraphe. It was slow going, after so much hard riding but Zigzag managed it in under an hour and I was just over. I sat, dizzy, having done the top half purely on willpower, and ate some biscuits. We rolled into Valloire and in true Audax style raided a small shop for bananas, iced tea, snacking bars and anything short of a small motor in the bottom bracket that would help us to get up the next climb.
The Galibier starts quietly, luring you in through an almost flat section before it heads up into the oxygen starved high Alps where nothing grows and you are in a land of bare rock and snow. By Plan Lachat, with 8km to go, I had withdrawn into a world of pedal stroke after pedal stroke, ignoring Zigzag’s words of encouragement, and hopes to start up a conversation, for the small amount of brain power that I still had left was trying to get the legs to work the pedals. Just before 5km to go Zigzag saw a marmot. As my eyes weren’t working properly (they weren’t needed, just the legs and enough vision to work out which way was up) I couldn’t get my legs and eyes to work separately, so I came to a halt, fortunately being able to catch a glimpse of the marmot dashing under cover of the rocks. To be honest if the Venus de Milo had stood in the middle of the road saying “Take me, I’m yours” I would have probably ignored her or asked “are you made of carbs”.
By now the altitude was starting to kick in, and I no longer had the strength to fat burn up 9% gradients or the reserves to burn carbs. So predictably I felt worse and worse until I stopped again, with 2.5km to go and then with just under 1km to go, just to get everything back in order. At the top I used Octave Lapize’s quote (misplaced as he used it on the Tourmalet) “Vous etes assassins” before collapsing in a heap underneath the Col du Galbier sign.
After that it was a 38km descent back to the Hotel Edelweiss, done without mishap, although I was so cold and affected by hunger knock that the shakes stopped me from using the tri-bars for a long while.
Suffering should not take away from the fact that this is a stunning trip, with outrageous climbs, huge changes in scenery, off-the-beaten track roads (we saw hardly any cyclists on the Montcenisio) and the crowds.
Chapeau to the late middle-aged gentleman who made it up the Telegraphe on a bike with four panniers (two front and two back). He asked us where we had been and the conversation summed up the ride.
CET “Briancon, Susa, Col du Mont Cenis, Col du Telegraphe….”
Stranger: “Aujourd’hui?”
CET “Oui”
Stranger: “Ou allez vous?”
CET: “Briancon”
Expression of surprise, then “Bonne Courage”
