CYCLING & CLIMBING THE COLS AROUND BARCELONNETTE IN THE FRENCH ALPES-DE-HAUTE-PROVENCE

SEPTEMBER 2001

Living in our motorhome and on our way to Greece, we paused in the Valley of the River Ubaye in the French Alpes-de-Haute-Provence to climb 5 of the 8 cols that lead out of the valley. The tourist office in Barcelonnette award a certificate to any cyclist who rides all 8 passes but we were happy with 5, including a double ascent of the highest in the Alps – the Col and Cime de la Bonette, claiming to be Europe's highest road at 9,250 ft or 2,802 m.

Another fine clear day, no excuses, we made up the bottles of lemonade and chicken sandwiches, agreed it didn't matter if we didn't make it ('Dare to Fail'), and set off past the Château des Magnans and away, climbing out of the village. At first there was the odd house, a goat and sheep cheese farm, a few pigs, an isolated cemetery at the hamlet of Lans, then just empty hillside, our route winding slowly (very slowly) ever upwards. Suddenly, an English voice - Andrew Watson from Chapel-en-le-Frith rode up behind and kept us company for the next 10 miles, slackening his racing cadence to our cycle-tourist pace. It helped the relentless climb (average gradient 7%, maximum 17%) pass in conversation (our first in English in 5 weeks, his in 7 weeks - and he doesn't speak French, so was keen to talk).

At the halfway point (in both distance and height gained) the 'Halte 2000 Bar-Café' (at 2,000 m) was closed, but we halted anyway for a biscuit break. The road was fairly quiet, being a minor route to St-Etienne-de-Tinée (and eventually to Nice, but there are easier ways!), with a weight limit keeping lorries and caravans away. We were overtaken by a few cars and small campervans out for a scenic drive, perhaps a dozen cyclists, alone or in pairs (keen racing types, all young and lean, with only one other female) and plenty of Germanic motorbikers storming by. Our next and only other pause was high up above the tree-line, the road bordered with alpine flowers, to watch 2 marmots playing. Soon the snow will come and they'll go down their burrows to hibernate.

Andrew, aged under 30, has already done an Engineering degree at Lancaster (where he ran the cycling club), toured the UK as a musician in a Queen tribute band, and worked in Accounts and for an Estate Agent in Guildford. He quit that in June, bought an ex-Post Office van, fitted it with a stove and bed and came to France to pursue his passion - the Tour de France - following Le Tour by van and bicycle, researching to write a book about it. Eschewing campgrounds, he parked his van where he could and rode the cols of the Alps, many known to us from summers past. At the foot of the Alpe d'Huez his camera was stolen from his van, but otherwise all was going well. An interesting young man to say the least. He accelerated quickly out of sight above us for the last few kms, promising to wait at the top.

We continued at our own speed, climbing well and not overheating (like the earlier stifling day in the Gorges du Tarn), past a small lake where a couple of cars had stopped to picnic. A couple of miles before the Col were the stone buildings of the Restefond barracks, once part of the Maginot Line and a stark reminder that this was once frontier country, with Italy just over the hill. The barracks are still used by the French army for training exercises. Then 9 sharp hairpins wound to the Col: 2,678 m or 8,840 ft, on the road built in 1860 by Napoleon III, linking the Alpes Maritimes with the Alpes-de-Haute- Provence. That figure would make it only the second highest route in Europe and we discovered the trick - a rough narrow one-way track looped 1.5 km from the Col round the Cime (summit) de la Bonette, this optional extra added in 1960 making it 2,802 m or 9,250 ft, so it could claim La plus haute route d'Europe status.

At the Col we asked Notre Dame du très haut for her blessing (which she gave from her rocky nook behind a glass window), took a few deep breaths of the increasingly thin air and climbed the extra 410 ft, the steepest part of the route, making a total ascent of 5,287 ft from Jausiers, 15 miles below, in 3 hours. Andrew was waiting, sitting behind the summit monument in the sunshine watching more marmots at play. We all declined the walk up to the Table of Orientation, a climb on a rough path not designed for smooth cycling shoes. We ate a late lunch with a feeling of indescribable satisfaction. A small cabin sold coffee and postcards (stamped Col de la Bonette) and we relished it all. There were still patches of snow in the surrounding gulleys but the sun was warm above a light cool wind. Finally, we took our farewell of Andrew, who would descend to Barcelonnette and move on, full speed ahead. Within the next week he planned one or two more cols and the ascent of the Puy de Dome before returning to the UK, his parents' house and the search for work.

We donned jumpers and gloves and came down at a steadier pace, taking about 45 minutes, freewheeling the whole way. The km posts, so slowly marking the ascent, flashed past - as usual, we could scarcely believe we'd actually climbed this road. We paused twice in the warm sun to rest our grip on the brakes and rode triumphantly onto the campsite as the church clock chimed 4 pm. Average speed had been 16.5 km, just over 10 mph.

After plenty of tea and a rest, we had just enough energy to make and eat supper and watch a video of 'The Eagle has Landed' (not to be confused with 'Where Eagles Dare' - which we did). We also sent text messages to all our friends with mobile phones - postcard-writing could wait!

Next morning we moved our motorhome to Barcelonnette, 5 miles west along the valley.

It had been a cold clear night and we awoke to see frost on the grass. By 10 am the sun was up and we left Barcelonnette on the D908, which leads south past the other 2 campsites, then divides with a choice of Cols: the Cayolle or the Allos. There is a circular ride, La Classique du Cyclo Club, which links these two climbs with a third, the Col des Champs - Champions indeed - 78 miles and 3 passes totalling over 10,000 ft of climbing. We'll take them one at a time!

We chose the longer and higher Col de la Cayolle today and it proved a beautiful ride with perfect weather. From the village of Uvernet the road climbed gently (average gradient 5%, maximum 10%), following the gorge of the Bachelard, criss-crossing it on several old stone bridges giving dramatic views below. The road was narrower than that up the Bonette, with long stretches of single-track with passing places, and there were more cyclists. A group of Dutchmen raced past, followed by a support van, but after passing hedge-trimmers at work (beware thorns) we were pleased to overtake them, as they stopped to fix punctures in their lightweight tyres!

Soon we saw a heavily laden touring couple at the roadside with the same problem and stopped to help. Pierre and Marie from Geneva were on their way to Nice (then via ferries to Corsica, Sardinia, Rome, a train home and back to work). Barry helped find the offending thorn and did some of the pumping, then when both of Pierre's patched tubes failed (his 'spare' had 2 punctures in it) we gave them one of our 2 new spare tubes to get them on their way (same size, different valves). This passed half an hour of French conversation practice (new word: la crevaison = puncture) and we learnt enough about cycling in Patagonia and the Andes (he had been twice) to know it wasn't for us!

After the Gorges du Bachelard we reached the tiny village of St Laurent Fours, about half-way to the col in both distance and height, and sat by the water fountain on the terrace of the Bar-Restaurant eating our sandwiches and dipping our biscuits in their delicious cafés au lait. The church clung to the side of the gorge below us, all the window boxes were bright with flowers, the sun shone. Our new Swiss friends rode by and we wished them well, we were in no hurry.

After another 4 miles, at Bayasse, there was a refuge and a rough track turned off, linking to the Col de la Bonette for serious walkers (and crazy Swiss cyclists, who had proposed taking it with no spare inner tubes). Here we crossed over a bridge into the Mercantour National Park and the last 5 miles to the Col were steeper, with hairpin bends, past the Refuge at 2,266 m or 7,478 ft for a final thrust to the top at 2,326 m or 7,676 ft. The monument showed that we were again at the border of the Alpes-de- Haute-Provence and the Alpes Maritimes (Côte d'Azur Region). Four Dutch touring-cyclists were resting behind the monument but we dropped back down to the Refuge to take a break, out of the wind, at 3 pm. The Brevet des 7 cols Ubayens leaflet had promised eagles and chamois up here but we guess you have to come early in the day. Our reward, apart from the stunning scenery and alpine flowers, was the descent: a freewheel down to Bayasse, then easy riding along the gorge and back into town: 3 hrs 15 mins cycling up, 1 hr 15 mins down, average speed nearly 9 mph.

It had been a much less bleak ride than the Bonette, through the well-wooded gorge, and with very little traffic once the morning rush had gone. Much less exhausing, too.

Some cloud sitting on the peaks this morning and a cool wind, but undeterred we set out along the D908 again, this time turning right where it divided for the Col d'Allos - slightly lower than the Cayolle but a shorter distance, making it steeper overall. Once we, and the day, had warmed up it was a splendid climb, with no easy introduction along a gorge this time. The road climbed at an average gradient of 5.5%, maximum 10%. Soon a side road turned off to the ski resort of Pra Loup and the D908 at once became much narrower, winding its way above the Gorge de Malune. We passed a tiny church at the abandoned hamlet of Les Agneliers and a deserted ski-lift - everything else passed us! About half way up we paused to read the memorial to Canetto Baptiste, who had fallen to his death building the route in 1889. There were still sharp, unguarded bends with drops into the river and forest far below.

The terrain became bare and arid (and steeper) towards the summit, as we left the sound of cowbells behind and passed the Refuge. At the top (2,250 m or 7,425 ft) we took the customary photograph or 3, with bikes rampant, and talked to a French cyclist who was proud to be riding at the age of 50 (younger even than Margaret!) Back at the Refuge, just below the col, the dining room busy with Sunday drivers. We bought coffee and sat outside with our sandwiches and a couple of Dutch cyclists and felt good - each ascent seems less effort and now we're actually enjoying the climbs. There was a table of orientation for identifying the peaks, but still no chamois. A Texan cyclist arrived, panting, just as we were leaving and told us he had 'a second home in Colorado and a third one here in Barcelonnette'. Our second home is the whole world, with no gardening to do, so we didn't envy him!

The descent was tricky and quite slow, frequently on the outside of blind bends with little or no guardrail, but after 3.5 hours' riding (2.5 up, 1 down) at an average of 7 mph we were back in the warmth and safety of the valley.

Spiced rice, curried with the last of the chicken, chocolate cake (made yesterday) and an 'Inspector Frost' video, who could want for more? (Only next day did we learn what had happened in New York this morning – 9/11.)

In which we cycle (and sometimes walk) 39 miles and climb 4,950 ft on a circular ruff-stuff ride – our second ascent of the Col de la Bonette

Lured by the existence of a link from Bayasse on the Col de la Cayolle road to the Col de la Bonette, shown as the D9 (dotted) on our map and described as a shepherds' track by the Tourist Info, we set out on what proved our longest hardest day so far. Unlike the Swiss pair who first told us about it, we took a spare tyre, as well as 2 tubes (though walking boots would have been a useful extra!)

It began gently enough, up the Gorges du Bachelard, as described one week ago. This time we didn't pause at Fours St-Laurent for coffee but continued to the Refuge at the hamlet of Bayasse, 14 miles from base-camp, at 1800 m or 5,940 ft, where both our track and the long distance footpath GR56 turned off. We enjoyed our sandwiches with Refuge coffee, were warned that the track was only suitable for VTT (mountain bikes) and not racing cycles (we have neither) and left at 12.45 pm to see for ourselves. So far, we had averaged over 7 mph, and our final average speed for the day would be 6.9 mph, despite the eventual fast descent from the Bonette (max 32 mph)! This is because the next 5 miles, once we'd left Bayasse, was on a Route très dégradée, very stony and climbing all the way. Barry rode most (but not all) of it, Margaret walked most (but not all). But what a reward for that effort. The whole afternoon we were only passed by one huntsman in a 4-WD vehicle and 2 intrepid German motorbikes. The silence, the peace, the real sense of being in the midst of these mountains instead of balanced on a man-made col road, shared with motor traffic, was breathtaking. We paused frequently to drink, watch a marmot, survey the scene.

By 2 pm, after 3 miles of track, by the restored Bergerie de la Moutière, we reached the border of the Mercantour NP, at 2140 m or 7,062 ft. The map showed we still had some steep climbing to get out of the valley, the track hairpinning far above the tree-line, but the sun shone and we pushed on. Suddenly on the skyline we could see the Cime de la Bonette and were encouraged to continue, knowing we would eventually meet the tarmac somewhere between the Restefond Barracks and the Col of the Bonette. Walking was slightly easier than riding it, we just wished for tougher footwear on the rocky path.

At last, at 3.45 pm after 2 difficult miles, we met the junction with the GR56, which turned off for the Col de la Moutière, signed as 15 mins' walk. We continued towards the Restefond, now able to cycle more easily - still climbing, but on a gravel path made firm by lorries going to a nearby mine, though we still had to walk half a mile, where roadworks had made the path too soft to ride. We finally joined the bitumen just below the Col de la Bonette at 4.05 pm, 21 miles from Barcelonnette, at 2620 m or 8,646 ft. We dropped to the shelter of the Restefond Barracks, ate our Lion Bars and wrapped up for the descent, arriving in Jausiers by our former campsite (now closed) as the clock struck 5 pm, a 13-mile descent, cheered on by 3 French army lorries which wove their way down past us. The late afternoon west wind was dead against us, making the 5 miles back to Barcelonnette along the main road slow going.

800 m of the 1500 m or 4,950 ft we'd climbed had been on the 7 miles of unsurfaced tracks linking the 2 col roads. We were home by 5.30 pm, dusty and hungry, quite a ride! But nothing that tea, showers, home-made burgers and a video of 'The Bill' couldn't cure.

We'd had differing reports of the Col de Vars ride - Andrew Watson had dismissed it as 'boring', while our middle-aged French neighbours here, a couple in a camping car from Lyons who are riding all 7 cols to collect their Brevet, said it had 2 nasty tunnels needing lamps (we duly bought new batteries at Mr Bricolage). Both were wrong!

We had an early start (ie pre-10 am) before the sun was up and kept our jackets, helmets and gloves on for the ride into the wind, along the main road D900 up the Ubaye Valley, through Jausiers and Condamine, their campsites now closed. Leaving Condamine, on our left just before crossing the Ubaye River, rose the massive pock-marked grey stone walls and barred windows of the Forts de Tournoux (built 1843-65 to defend the border with Italy). Now abandoned, they are being restored as some sort of tourist attraction (isn't everything?) After 9 miles, the Col de Vars road turned off at Les Gleizolles, leaving the D900 to continue over the Col de Larche into Italy (our eventual route in the motorhome).

The gentle gradient gradually increased from 2% to 5%, there was a stretch of road works before a length of new avalanche shelter over the road (no problem, and quiet this Sunday morning), then a short tunnel - unlit but only half a km long with daylight visible at the far end, so we didn't need the lights we'd brought. The village of St Paul-sur-Ubaye, 14 miles from camp, marked half way from Les Gleizolles to the Col and its only bar was open for coffee. It was 11.30 am and we'd averaged over 9 mph, but the final 5 mile climb was to reduce this considerably. The road suddenly began to hairpin high above the village and the tree-line, 2 miles to the next hamlet, Le Mélezen, then even more steeply at a gradient of 10% for the last 3 miles to the top. The stone church spires of the 2 villages disappeared far below and we rode into the teeth of a strong wind, slowing us to a crawl, but we were rewarded with 3 sightings of marmots (6 animals) very near the road, looking very furry and fattened for the 6-month sleep ahead.

Another summit photograph, at 2109 m or 6,960 ft, at 1.10 pm after 19 miles riding. The average gradient was given as 7% but most of the effort was at the end. The col is an ancient border, now between the Alpes-de-Haute-Provence and the Hautes Alpes, to the north, but once between France and Savoy, changing hands between Italian and French rulers over the centuries. A plaque commemorated the restoration of the road in 1891 by the 5th Groupe Alpin of the French army. We looked over the other side, towards a small lake, but didn't linger at the summit café in the full force of the wind. Instead, we turned back and dropped down 1 km to the shelter of an empty stone hut to eat our sandwiches. It still wasn't quite downhill all the way - after another 3 km we heard a loud bang and both came to as abrupt a halt as we could. Barry's rear tyre had parted company with the rim, causing the inner tube to split. Luckily, the tyre wasn't damaged and he soon had a new tube in, though why the new Schwalbe tyre had done this, unknown in B's experience, was not apparent - perhaps it was due to the heat of braking on the bumpy surface - worrying. We had no further problems and enjoyed a cautious descent to the main road, where we found the wind had changed direction and grown stronger, so that it was still against us on the way back. By 3.15 pm we were safely home, average speed 9 mph for the day - no, it had been far from boring!

After showers, a good dinner and another instalment of the 'Frost' video, we felt well satisfied now that we've climbed the 4 most serious cols in the area while the weather held. It's certainly colder every night now, with 42°F this morning.

A brilliant sunny morning with no wind, perfect for our last endurance feat in these Alpes-de-Haute-Provence. We packed lunch and moved our motorhome onto the central car park in Jausiers (very public and hopefully secure), since the campsite had closed for the long winter.

We cycled up the valley 4 miles to Condamine, where we turned off onto the road signed for the Ste Anne ski station and Parpaillon Tunnel. Immediately we were climbing hard, hairpinning high above the village, with good views of the Forts beyond. The gradient rose to 10% and even 11%, but at least we had tarmac. After 2 miles of this, at Ste Anne, a side-road turned up to the ski station, the café-bar at the junction closed, but we continued towards the Parpaillon. The wayside Chapelle Ste Anne, one mile further, marked the end of the bitumen and we stopped to consider the map showing the footpaths and distances.

For the first time we realised the scale of the venture to reach the tunnel! Not ready to turn back after only 7 miles, we agreed to 'see how far we could get'. The gravel road was rideable, though the drainage troughs across it were a frequent hazard and Margaret walked the steeper hairpins. But what a landscape, breathtakingly quiet, as we climbed through pine forest high above tumbling streams. Another mile on was the Pont du Berard bridge, where our footpath, GR6, crossed another leading to the Tour du Grand Berard. A stone marker gave our height, 1841 m or 6,075 ft, meaning we'd climbed 2,115 ft - less than halfway up to the tunnel, with 8 miles ridden and only 6 miles to go – 'no, we won't make it, it will be too steep on this track, we'll just go a bit further till lunchtime, then turn back' we said.

Two miles further on, we emerged from the woods by a new wooden chalet, a Bar-Grill of all unlikely things, but sadly closed. The track was just about driveable to here, and presumably walkers, hunters and tourists come up in the summer. We sat on the balcony of the Bar and ate our lunch, watched by an optimistic old dog who'd wandered across a wooden bridge from a Bergerie in front of us - one shepherd, several dogs and a flock of immobile grey sheep barely distinguishable from the rocks on the barren mountainside. It was just after 1 pm, with 4 miles to the Tunnel and the weather still perfect. Can't take more than an hour, can it? Well, it took over 2 hours, but we made it, M walking most of the way, B incredibly riding it all in bottom gear.

Once past the sheepfold, the GR footpath turned off on a lower route and our track switch-backed its way up, way above the tree line. We spotted the last few alpine flowers and 2 groups of marmots chasing over the sparse grass until they caught our scent, when they froze on their hind legs and whistled warnings to each other. Two motorbikes had passed us scrambling up and we met 2 walkers coming down. They'd left their car at Chapelle Ste Anne and climbed as far as the tunnel, which they warned us against entering, with the danger of falling rocks and icicles inside. We couldn't believe this tunnel existed, up here far from any road, but at last, round one last hairpin, there was the gaping black hole of its entrance. It was 3.30 pm - Barry had reached it after 3.5 hours' riding, M after 4 hours' riding and walking (the 30 minutes difference passed in several short stops, waiting for her to catch up).

The tunnel, at 2645 m or 8,728 ft, had been built by the French military in 1892-1900, when they must have been keen to move men quickly to Crévoux on the other side in the Hautes Alpes. It goes through the mountain below the Col du Parpaillon at 2788 m or 9,200 ft, accessible only to mountain goats (or chamois?) Today, the 450 m long tunnel was signposted as 'Forbidden to Cars, Cyclists and Pedestrians' (who else is there, and why wait till now to tell them!) because of danger from falling stones, but the iron gates were open and we could just make out daylight at the far end. With no wish to go down the stone track on the far side, we didn't go through - a wise decision, as we heard stones crashing down inside while we wrapped up for the descent. We hope the motorbikes had made it through safely, since they hadn't passed us coming back.

The return down the rough path, avoiding large stones, drainage ditches and unguarded bends was hard on the brakes, with regular stops to let the wheel rims cool down and our fingers rest. It took an hour to descend the 4 miles to the Bergerie where, to our astonishment, we met 3 heavily-laden bicycles on their way up. We tried to tell the optimistic young men how difficult the path was, and the dangers lurking in the Tunnel, but they carried on. They didn't have a watch between them and were surprised to learn it was 4.45 pm. We doubted they'd make it before dark.

Half an hour later we reached the end of the bitumen at Chapelle St Anne with great relief and thanked her effigy. The 2 walkers we'd met as we climbed up had just reached the safety of their car and they congratulated us. After another 30 minutes of glorious tarmac-smooth freewheeling we were back in the motorhome after our hardest day, at an average speed of 5 mph for the total 5.5 hours' ride.

We drove back to last night's more peaceful car park, drank lots of tea and baked a pizza and a dozen coconut pyramids. We were woken only once in the night, by heavy rain - perfect timing.