Tour

French Alps on Two Wheels

By David Godsall

In France’s Hautes-Alpes, we learn things – like the joys of the cols and where to find a proper bike-touring lunch – that Europe’s cyclophiles discovered decades ago.

A middle-aged Belgian man dressed head-to-toe in pink Lycra breezes past me, offering what I assume to be Flemish words of encouragement. I gasp a “thanks” and return my sweat-distorted gaze to the endlessly meandering ribbon of pavement in front of me.

The Alpe d’Huez is cycling’s mecca. Every summer, thousands of pedal-pushing pilgrims set out for its summit, a minor ski resort in southeastern France, from the tiny Tour de France-obsessed town of Bourg d’Oisans, 4,000 vertical feet below. This is where, in the 2001 Tour, Lance Armstrong cemented his status as the dominant force in the sport with a decisive (and still much YouTubed) ascent. It’s the gauntlet through which every cycling star of the last half-century has had to prove his mettle. But I’m not here to prove anything – and it shows.

I’m here because the Hautes-Alpes region, where Oisans happens to be, is one of Europe’s most accessible underappreciated treasures. A two-hour drive from either Geneva or Turin takes you as far from the tour-bus throngs as it’s possible to get. And yet, better-known destinations like Nice are only a couple of hours away. Our home base for exploring the region is Briançon, the high alpine town that serves as a hub for skiers heading to nearby La Grave and Serre Chevalier in the winter. It was also a hub for the Romans two millennia before we arrived because it’s here that the road from Italy forks: west to Paris or south to Spain.

We spent our first few days in the area pedaling through the valleys of the Parc national des Écrins to the west of Briançon, a sprawling playground of glacier fields, alpine pastures, subalpine woodlands and lakes covering most of the Massif des Écrins. The glacier-pointed peaks that towered over us were a persistent reminder of the masochistic lunacy we had planned for later in the trip. It was a small comfort, however, to know we weren’t alone. It seems like more people travel on two wheels than on four around here, and at the base of each of the many cols in the area, clusters of cyclists could be found milling about preparing to make their ascents.

We also frequently ran into groups of cyclists at the lunch table. Hundreds of tiny inns (a good accommodation option for spontaneous travelers) dot the valleys, and many serve decadent multicourse midday feasts, often on patios with postcard views. At the end of each day, when we retreated back within Briançon’s 17th-century Vauban ramparts, we focused on building our strength for the big climb with the rich local fare (a Rhone-Provence-Piedmont hybrid) found in intimate rooms like Le Tryptique. Another reason to make this place our base was the abundance of simple, well-run hotels, including the Parc, where cheap last-minute rates are usually easy to find as the ski season’s glut of capacity goes unfilled in the summer.

Bourg d’Oisans is an hour’s drive in the direction of Paris from Briançon, past the elegant wildflower-garlanded Hotel Bonnabel that sits atop the Col du Lautaret, the hot springs at Le Monêtier-les-Bains and a dozen historic churches and chapels. After an athlete’s breakfast of croissant, soft cheeses and highly viscous espresso, we point our handlebars toward the Alpe d’Huez’s icy spire.

As we climb, I notice that each of the Alpe’s 21 switchbacks is named for a Tour rider who’d claimed a victory on its slopes. Lance’s is an agonizingly steep hairpin at the bottom. Fifteen turns later, I watch as my gregarious Belgian friend rounds a bend belonging to someone named Joop Zoetemelk. Of all the vexing questions that might have confronted me at this moment – What am I doing here? Who are these colourful, streamlined people? – all I could think was, Why is this gentleman who looks like Sarkozy not out of breath?

The 30-or-so minutes that follow are a blur, but somehow I find myself standing, or rather slumping, exhausted, over my bike under a sign that says “Itinéraire du Tour de France: Arrivée.” The Hautes-Alpes certainly have a way of making visitors feel like they’ve arrived, but looking out over the Oisans valley from this perch, it occurs to me, like Prometheus discovering electricity, that this feeling can be achieved without submitting to the agony of the Alpe. Oh well, I think, it’s still a pretty great view.

(David Godsall, Editor of onAir, pushes boulders up hills in his spare time.)

Useful information

Bike rental: Au Cadre Rouge, 20, rue Général de Gaulle, Bourg d’Oisans 33-04-76-80-13-81
Le Tryptique, 19, rue du Centre, Briancon

 

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