My First Alps
I went to France in September 1991 with my Dad's pub cycling team - assorted builders, decorators and other miscreants. We flew to Geneva and then rode from there to Annecy. I had only just recovered from glandular fever so wasnt going particularly well, but in this company it wasnt going to matter. The main ride was to be up to La Clusaz. We rode up via Alex and either stopped there or Thones and had a drink outside a pub (this was a theme of the trip). The was a flower pot with some kind of large hovering insect by the flowers, although my Dad seemed to think it was a hummingbird. We then climbed up to La Clusaz but at St Jean de Sixt I turned left to climb up the Col de la Columbiere. Looking back, this could have been a disaster: I had no pump or inner tube and no money. Thankfully I didnt have a puncture. At the top of the climb I felt great having conquered my first Col. I laid my bike down and went into the shop and bought a postcard as proof. I was now looking forward to the descent. Unbeknown to me, when I put my bike down Id also managed to slacken off the brake callipers. I sprinted towards the first hairpin only to find that my braking power had been vastly reduced. Fortunately I rectified the matter and enjoyed the rest of the descent. But leaving Le Grand Bornard I was faced with the long drag up to La Clusaz. I blew up but managed to get to La Clusaz to find the pub cyclists sat outside 'Le Coin de Feu', a restaurant in the town. They had been instructed by my Dad to only have something light to eat, but to their amusement I needed more so had the best Steak Frites ever.
We then took the easy route, going up the Col de la Croix Fry the easy way in a cable car. At the top of the Croix Fry there is another restaurant which, of course necessitated more refreshment for les cyclistes du pub. As we were about to leave, a group of French club riders came over the top and began the descent. My Dad suggested that we take it easy on the descent, but builder friend Pete Balment had other ideas. He shot off down the descent to capture the froggies. Aided by 80s style athletic shorts, builders cleavage and a lack of brake blocks, he caught and passed the group fairly quickly. I was desperately trying to catch up, but my lack of weight blunted my descending speed. I caught up and then we even over took some cars towards the bottom where we waited, exulted for the rest of the group. We then carried on to Faverges and St Jorioz where a puncture forced another beverage break. We then had a burn up into Annecy where we decamped to a restaurant and pub to consume cocktails. I dont remember much of the evening, but my Dad had great fun cleaning the bathroom the next day.
In the morning we took a bus up to St Jean de Sixt and then rode back to Geneva. Two funny things happened on the way. My Dad was dressed in full Castorama kit. His balding pate and glasses made him a dead ringer for Laurent Fignon, sans ponytail and a couple of stones heavier. At our first pub stop it was obvious that he had his cycling shorts on back to front! Perhaps he wasnt the only one to have had his memory affected by alcohol consumption? Then, on arrival at Geneva airport, two French blokes leaving the terminal saw my Dad arriving on his bike. They exclaimed, 'C'est Fignon! Laurent Fignon!' to great mirth!
Alpe d'huez
What can be said about the alpe, a mystical shrine of cycling? We were on holiday in La Clusaz in about 1999. Pantani had just been done for having too many red blood cells at the Giro (he should have been more careful: according to the great David Duffield, if you take EPO your blood turns to strawberry jam and you wake up in the middle of the night dead) and we had come to see some of the Dauphine Libere stage race. That race featured a time trial up Mont Ventoux (won by Jonathan Vaughters) and then headed up towards Annecy for a finish in either Morzine or Cluses. We spent the week riding up some of the local cols (see below) but there was to be a challenge later on - the alpe. It took most of the day to get there, primarily because we decided to go via the Telegraphe and the Galibier - fantastic climbs. By the time we got to the Alpe it must have been nearly 6 in the evening. At the last minute I decided to change my wheel meaning that my lowest gear was 39x25. Sitting in a car for most of the afternoon wasnt the best way to prepare for this climb. Nevertheless I attacked the bottom climb with gusto, just as you would any normal climb back home. The bottom of the alpe is of course the steepest part. The hardest part. I had had no warm up. There was still 12km to go all uphill. It took a while to get over that. But once into the hairpins everything seemed to be quite easy, and on the last steep section into the village I felt ecstatic. My rough timing was under an hour. After finding the top, I descended to find Debbie struggling up the climb and helped her make it to the last hairpin, after which we went and had some food.
Col de la Croix Fry, Aravis and Les Confins
On the same holiday as above, I climbed some of the other cols in the area. The Aravis from La Clusaz is a fairly easy climb. So easy I once did it on a Mountain bike in the snow during a skiing trip. The climb up to Les Confins is short, but it is also steep - more of a typical climb you might find in Exmoor.
The Col de la Croix Fry though I thought was more like Alpe d'huez, at least when climbed from Thones. It is similar in length and altitude gained. If the tour comes over here then it is usually a cat 1, just like the alpe would be if it wasnt always at the end of the stage. The main difference is that it gets harder towards the end: unlike the alpe the bottom is fairly easy, but the top kicks up through a series of hairpins that are quite vicious. There is also a fairly flat bit in the middle where you can big ring it. But once over, the descent back down into La Clusaz is great.
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