I still remember when people were hording duct tape and bottled water for the y2k doomsday that never was. That’s OK, I knew I was old when I was the one chasing kids down the street for knocking over MY mailbox. Full circle, eh? Ever since my return to the states, it seems like my cross form has been shit but the surf has been off the hook! Just good consistent swell each week. Been making it hard to train I guess…

Actually, I was pretty surprised at how bad my cross form was when I got back.  I guess grinding pedals through the alps for 10 hours at a time is a little different from 45 minutes of explosive bursts of speed every 10 seconds. Shoulda saw that coming, but I kinda thought I would just show up with my Euro Aura and dominate that shit. Heh heh, right.

The first couple races were kinda embarrassing. Like getting completely dropped by the entire field in the 1st half a lap sort of embarrassing. By the 3rd or 4th race, my head was starting to get back in, and then it was just a matter of retraining the legs to where now, I can at least scratch into the top 5 again if I’m feeling good. I really wanted to win one (well, more than one) this season, but 2nd was the best I could pull out.  Not quite the thunder I’d expected to show up with upon my return, but frankly I wouldn’t trade my experiences of the other side of the world in a heartbeat. That was a hell of a summer: )

One race left in the series and I’m just counting my blessings as I recall what it felt like this time last year with my broken arm (knocking on wood now). And I’m getting pretty excited about the 2010 season. Looks to be a lot of good mountain bike racing this summer, plus I’m registered for the Breck Epic in August, definitely a major goal for the year. I’m a bit nervous about how I’ll prep for the amount of saddle time this race represents, plus the altitude as I live at sea level now. But hey, I’ve got all those 10 hour rides from Europe in my legs. I’ll be just fine.

With thoughts of warm nights in Italy still fresh in my skull, I leave you with this:

This video might not be for the epileptics among you. 6 months worth of photos in 3 and a half minutes. I think it’s around 5000 shots… Pretty well tells the whole story, in a nutshell.

Anyway, it’s time to wrap up the Euro stuff ’cause there’s been plenty of goings on along the home front. Hmmm, where to begin?

I made a really fun trip to Wales with Malcolm.

We lucked out with some great weather, at least on Saturday.

I really like road trips with Malcolm.

He’s pretty fun to sit in a car with, plus he always has a great stash of music. And to top it off, he can usually spot a good pub…

We camped in a field on someone’s farm, which is kind of normal in England. You just have to be careful where to park.

The first day we scrambled up Tryfan.

and then around the backside.

Which was a bit of a scramble. Very fun, but you didn’t want to let go.

Then we drove to Coed y Brenin for some fun mtb trails.

Great stuff.

…The very next weekend…

I was off for a whirlwind trip through Italy and Switzerland.

I stayed in a hostel in Sta Maria in Switzerland.

bike room
The rooms were pretty basic

but I think that was really part of the fun. Drinking wine I bought in Italy outside with Swiss and Austrian tourists, eating local cheese and eggs, and drinking the local beer. All fantastic.
all made in the Swiss valley
Bun Tschling

But geeze, I haven’t even mentioned the riding…

Garmin Connect – Activity Details for Stelvio loop.

Garmin Connect – Activity Details for Mortirolo and Gavia loop..

I guess I’ll just have to make this two parts so I can go into a little more detail about those two routes…

Until next time.

So I know it’s been forever since I posted. I got back into the states about a month ago and have been reconnecting with family, friends, work, riding, and the like. Time has been a bit short. That and until I get a new computer for the home, I’m stuck with E’s itty bitty work laptop… Excuses excuses excuses.

But I digress.

I wanted to post about some of my favorite rides in Europe and Col de l’Iseran is definately a top 3 contender.

I did it the very next day after my personal one-man version of La Marmotte, or more accurately; the wildly insane 10 hour bike ride. Needless to say, I felt a bit sluggish getting myself together for the ride in the morning. Then, when I flatted 8 miles into the ride before any real climbing even started, I came one thin hair from turning around and coasting back to the car.

But I’m so glad now that I did it. Iseran is the the real deal. Beautiful.

I grabbed a dark chocolate covered crepe for breakfast and approached the col from the south Bramans side, which someone had told me was the better side. A little harder to get to, so less traffic. Also, the entire route is through national park land, so it is still very wide open. One of the first sights was a huge fort built on the precipice of cliffs, looking into the valley.
Old fortress along the route
I would have loved to take a day to explore it, but I already had plans…
The road wanders through the valley for a long time, climbing steadily at a moderate rate before opening up out of the trees and becoming very pretty just before Bessans. From there, it’s just amazing.

Switchbacks are so Euro

Narrow, exposed, steep = mmmm

This was one of those rides where you look around and think “nuh uh…” because nothing else more intelligible comes to mind. You’re too dumbfounded to come up with anything more deep to think. Well that and the road is too steep to maintain rational thought and ride at the same time…

just before it gets stupid steep

the top at last

Funny, there don’t appear to be any pictures between the bridge and the top… Narrow, windy, and winding. with cars slowing down to get a good look at the pain which you stopped hiding from your face an hour ago. They give a thumbs up as they go by, taking comfort within their little car. I wished I were them, they were going back down and I was on the hardest part. It may look moderate at 7-8%, but it goes on like that for 13 km after softening you up on the previous 30. Of course, 180 km the day before was still fresh in my legs.

The B&L sticker strikes again!

yesterdays route

so you can climb closer to heaven…

and of course, a snack at the top

The top was very cold. I was glad for the cafe and happily paid whatever ridiculous amount they charged for food just to get a respite from the wind; warm up a bit before the big descent.

Coming back down those flowing switchbacks was a blast, chasing cars like a dog once again. Am I really so different? Well, I do have thumbs.

Made it back to the village where I parked

and headed back to the hotel in Grenoble. What a long drive…

Watched some weird French TV

And then packed for the trip back to the UK.
27 kg of love

Another action packed weekend in the books.

Looks like cyclocross season just started going full tilt last weekend. I found a little motivation in Switzerland. Absolutely the best cowbells ever. I happened to be around on the weekend when the farmers were bringing their cows down from the Alps to winter in the valley. It was really cool watching and listening to these herds of cows coming down from the mountains and through the narrow village roads. The bulls were adorned with elaborate head dress made from pine tree branches and ribbon. Very awesome. The local milk was awesome, too. It even had a layer of cream on top.

alp d’Huez
Col du Glandon
Col de la Croix de fer
Telegraphe
Galibier
Alp d’Huez (again)
Col de l’Iseran
Stelvio
Mortirolo
Gavia

in that order. Not bad for a couple weekend trips to the alps. My top 3 would have to be l’Iseran, Stelvio, Gavia – not necessarily in that order… epic

It was time for something outside the world of two wheels.

One of my coworkers in the UK invited me on a little trip to Italy for some canyon exploration in the Dolomites. I had done that sort of thing back in the states around Utah
and thought it might be fun to see what it was like over here.  I was excited to see the northwestern part of Italy, too.  We would fly into Treviso on Friday night after work, find a place to camp in the mountains of the Dolomite National Park and hit Gole Sofia the next morning. Then Val Clusa the next day, drive back to Treviso that night for the flight which would get me back to cambridge in the wee hours  and then back to work Monday morning. Sounds about right. I was a bit nervous since I haven’t done much of anything involving ropes since the Sprout was born and I really had no idea what to expect…

Got off the plane, grabbed some Speck and beer from a gas station, and found a spot to camp around midnight.

The next morning, we met up with the final member of our 5-man group and headed to Sofia.
I was still kinda wrecked from the last two weeks of adventures. The previous weekend was my Marmotte ride which took most of the previous week to recover from and before that was a fun adventure in Wales with MalMal. But the canyons were so beautiful, it was easy to ignore the hamstring trying to tighten up on me…

The start of Gole sofia

It would have been nice to have the water socks, especially the 2nd day when the water got really cold.

This was a fun section.

The abseils were pretty fun in the waterfalls.

Jumping in was fun , too, when it was deep enough.

All the guys I was with were friends from their canyoning club days back at uni, so they had the anchor methods down to a science and the 5 of us got through each section like clockwork. A few of the abseils were pretty tricky to set up, too. Especially the 2nd day which turned out to be a bit more technical. Often requiring an anchor to be set up just to get to the drop point.

This one was particularly slippery and I lost my footing pretty good while coming down. the last thing you want to do is let go of the rope to catch yourself though, so you just hit the wall, wright yourself and keep going down.

The final abseil of the second day was particularly tricky, working down a thin chimney with buckets of ice cold water crashing on you head really hard. getting even harder farther down as the pressure of the water started to feel like a hammer on my helmeted head. All i wanted to do was get out of that thing. It felt like being held under water.  All I could see and hear was the water crashing on my head and I felt the subtle tickle of desperation as I raced to the bottom and practically lept out of the raging falls to get out… much to the glee of my companions… The next guy down got flipped upside-down by the force of the water and came down headfirst, disappearing into the water. We rushed in and pulled him out. He seemed a little shaken, but none the worse for wear. We got out and made it back to the nearby village for some much needed beer and ice cream.

And what would a trip to Italy be without good food and drink?

I would live in Italy in a heartbeat.

Then it was a quick getaway to make our flight.

In bed at 2am and at work at 9am. That was another great weekend.

The pan-flat roads of east anglia are not the place to train for La Marmotte. That was the most rediculously hard day I’ve had on a bike. 185 km loop with 5 massive alpine cols and 17000 feet of climbing. Sounds like the dumb sorta thing I’m all for.

I don’t remember where I first heard about the La Marmotte, someone at work perhaps, or maybe I happened across it while searching for some routes to do in France. I had looked into doing a big combo day, penciled in some possible routes, and found the one I’d dismissed as ludicrous actually matched up almost perfectly with La Marmotte. It’s almost identical to the Moarmmote except I went down Croix de Fer instead of Glandon to avoid having to ride so much in the valley below. Plus I’d heard Croix de Fer was a better descent.

“Well, if those bastards do it, I’m not gonna shy away!”

The gauntlet was thrown, or a lack of common sense prevailed… Either way it was gonna be epic. And since it was one giant loop, there was no chance for an easy bailout except for Huez at the end, but by then it was just a Thelma and Louise determination that I would rely on to push me up those final 21 switchbacks. Frankly, it’s a damn good thing I couldn’t see my car as I went through town…

But first: I can never go to a foreign country without some kind of problem, and this trip was no different. On the day before I was to leave the UK, I found out the annoying way that my credit card had been locked due to “corrupted security” and while they were happy to send me a replacement overnight, I would be cardless in France.

“Good thing I have my ATM card”

Got off the plane in Grenoble and picked up my awesome rental car. my sweet Renault Kangoo

That’s when the problems started. I had paid for everything online with my card before it was corrupted, so figured I’d be OK. But my other cards suddenly didn’t seem to be working either. I tried to log on to my account and got on just long enough to to see my home page and then my computer locked up before my account screen popped up and wouldn’t let me back on. I swear it was a conspiracy. No luk.. Without much French, it was difficult to convey my needs to the hotel staff. I was having visions of 3 days in France with 40 euro in my pocket, and France ain’t cheap. The toll road alone was 14 euro each way. I was seriously stressed about what to do and all the overdraft fees I was going to have to argue out of come Tuesday morning.

Tangent: I think this was the 3rd or 4th time I’ve had problems with my US cards in Europe. they keep getting locked down for security without warning. Something to keep in mind if you plan to stay a while. Plus I get grumpy looks from all the clerks over here because my US card doesn’t have a chip which makes more work for the clerks…

Anyway.

So then I remembered my emergency card in the back of my wallet. The one I hadn’t used in months and was pretty sure didn’t work, either. I nervously ordered a café from the bar to see if it would work. This transaction was going to make or break my next three days. I was really sweating…

Then, cha ching! Damn thing worked. That solved one problem. Which was good cause I was really hungry and needed some food. I was still pretty stressed about having to deal with my bank on Tuesday. I had visions of E back in the states trying to buy a cart full of groceries with S crying in her arms and then having her debit card get declined at checkout and no way to get in contact to explain the situation for the next 3 days. That would surely make for a great conversation with her later. But at least now I could eat – I was gonna need a lot of food tomorrow – I’m already kind of skinny.

Drove to the start of my ride in Le Bourg-d’Oisans, a pretty and touristy mountain town at the foot of alp d’Huez.

open market in Oisons

What to bring for 8 hours in the saddle? As much as you can…

Most of the riding along the valley is on busy roads. those hills look steep… With most of the famous cols around here, it’s not until you get into the last 10 km or so before they really get good. The views are good before, but the traffic keeps you on your toes. narrow alpine roads, anyone? I’m sure weekdays are the hot ticket for when to go. A lot like Palomar, I think. But those last 10-20 km are pretty spectacular.

Glandon was cool,
but Col de La Croix de Fer was where it was at. Amazing and just a couple km above Glandon. Something about it, the name, the exposer, the iron cross (croix de fer) at the top. It just feels like a legend at the top. I Enjoyed the best $6 cola I’ve ever had. mmmm

And what could be better then getting to the top of a famous alpine col? Well, going down the back side at 70kph is pretty exciting. I think Croix de Fer was an amazing descent.

I’ve been on my sick new bike from B&L Bikes all summer now. It takes a while to get comfortable with a new bike, but by now I’ve had a chance to really feel comfortable on her and didn’t hesitate to really push through those hairpins. A mix of terror and excitement got me to the bottom with a huge grin.

Rode through the valley and got to BIG DADDY, otherwise known as the double punch of Col du Telegraphe
followed by Col du Galibier. told ya I was skinny…
I let out a meniacle laugh at the start of the climb. Was it because I was about to start up the mythical Galibier, or was it because I was at the halfway point and there truly was no turning back? Who cares! Lets roll!

In reality, Telegraphe is just a part of Galibier. The profile for Galibier didn’t seem that bad. Well, profile be damned, those last couple km were tough. The view getting up to the top is really amazing. Galibier was definitely the climax of the route. Being almost 2700m high certainly helped. The top was cold, windblown, and just rad. I took a small rock from the top. I think Galibier took a piece of me that day, so it seemed only fair.

Coming down the backside of Galibier was pretty tough. The crosswinds were strong and I was getting a lot of speed wobble down the back side at much above 50kph. Clenching my bike, I managed to keep her steady enough to get down into the trees where I could open it up again.

Then it was a long steady descent back to my starting point and soon to be ending point. Alp d’Huez. It needs no introduction. I had done it once before and it didn’t get any easier the second time. Of course already having 175km under my belt didn’t help… I pretty much relied on brute stupidity to get me to the top. so tired
So that was it. Day one.

How about day two? So good…

The second time around is clearly harder than the first. Now I know what I’m in for. I know what the next 8 weeks will feel like. I know what the transition will feel like when I return. I know how much different Sophie will look when I see her in the airport upon my return, how much I will have missed.

My family, who were with me over the summer in the UK, have gone home now and the apartment seems very big and quiet. I came home from dropping them off at Heathrow to find Sophie’s pink helmet, lying upside-down, on the bare white sheets of her empty bed, as proof of their visit. No greeting at the door or yells of “daddy home!” when I came in, just dark empty rooms and that helmet.

I moved the furniture back to how it originally was when I moved in. Before they arrived, I rearranged it all to be more Sophie-specific. With them gone, it just seemed like a flashing neon reminder that Sophie wasn’t here anymore, so I moved it back. When I rearranged the furniture in her old room, I found we’d forgotten to grab her singing glow worm because it was jammed along the side of the bed and no one saw it when we packed. She used to sleep with it at night, so I keep it in my bedroom now, next to the bed as a reminder. It doesn’t make up for not being able to tuck her in at night, but it’s what I have to work with at the moment.

Sorry for the downer post. There will be all kinds of rad shit to write up soon enough. I have pretty much booked every waking hour with some kind of adventure until I return. I just wanted to let you know those plans have their price.

My own 24. What better way to experience the Eurostar, Paris, and the Tour de France than to do it all in a 24 hour period. Preferably without any DUI’s.

This was the plan: Take the Eurostar train from London Saturday night and arrive in Paris at midnight. Sleep in the train station for a few hours, then go off into the city for a bit of exploration until that afternoon when the final stage of the tour was taking place. Watch the race and get some sweet shots. Then jump back on the train and arrive back home by midnight Sunday. 24 hours. In and out. Tres Bien.

And how much of that bad idea went according to plan, you ask? Well, I did get to Paris at midnight.

Turns out the Paris Nord train station is a bit shady at night. I decided it might not be the most restful area. Besides, sleep is overrated. Right, straight into the heart of the city then. I don’t think anyone in Paris sleeps. 4 AM and the streets are full of Parisians. Having dinner, having dates, getting drunk. It was full on. The Champs-Elysees was just mad.

I headed to Triomphe

which was bigger than I expected. I watched a couple hippies nearly get killed trying to cross the roundabout and decided that wasn’t for me.
Off to the Eiffel Tower through some dark paths with passing groups of drunk people.

It reminded me a bit of the UK at night. Except for all the French people. Just like the Arc de Triomphe, Eiffel tower is a lot bigger than I expected. I thought it would be all lit up and easy to find, but because I arrived so late, the lights were shut off, save for a couple blinking red lights at the top. when I first saw it I just thought it was a radio tower and kept going. It’s a pretty dark part of town. Once my eyes adjusted and I realized what it was, I made my way over to give it a looksee.
This is what it looks like when your lying on a park bench in the middle of the night.

Exhaustion finally got the better of me and I shivered the last few hours of darkness away on a bench in the park below the tower with the drunks and the rats.  Hmmmm, this sort of thing seemed more adventurous when I was 20, now it’s just kind of cold and uncomfortable…

At last the sun was starting to come up.

I brushed off the night and went on my way.

Strangely, I found another American who had done pretty much the same thing as me. I heard him asking for directions to the finish line of the tour. American accents kind of stick out in Europe. There is no hiding…

I think we saw a weeks worth of sights that morning. Here are just a few:

Mona Lisa is a rock star. I think there were over 300 people, all jammed into that little room, pointing their video cameras and cellphone cameras at Mona. I think I saw two other people remove the camera from their eye so they could actually look at her… Saw a couple of Michelangelo sculptures and also the winged Nike sculpture, which I thought was very stunning from afar. Good presentation space all to herself. Otherwise, there was so much art hanging in each of the other halls, it was a bit overwhelming.

Also happened to be around just as mass was starting at Notre Dame de Paris cathedral. I’m not all that religious having grown up in a hippy commune and whatnot, but it was still pretty cool to hear mass on the sight of Paris’ first Christian church. I stayed for about 10 minutes…

then it was off to get some food and que up for the tour. Watching a stage of the tour de France in person was pretty much what I expected: hot, crowded, hard to see, and not that much fun. but it was something I’ve wanted to do for a while and now I’ve done it.  the only way I could see anything was by climbing a tree along the Camps Elysees (I guess that’s kind of cool in itself) and watching from about 20 feet up. Sorry, didn’t take any pics fom up there, but if you google images for “tour de france” you can probably get an idea what i saw.

Generally a succesful trip, but I think next time I’ll keep the Tour and Paris separate.

Here’s what I’m putting together for the last weekend in August. The route is based entirely on the Marmotte ride which was a few weeks ago. It’s 174 Km (~110 miles) loop with a couple of hills. Col du Glandon is only a couple Km from Croix de Fer (or was it Galibier, either way…), I’m planning to add it on, so make that 178 Km. It’s a similar game plan to the last French assault, flying into Grenoble to stay for a bank holliday weekend. The only difference this time is I’m gonna rent a little van so I can explore some of the farther regions of the area.