Sestriere

Two climbs in two days in the Alps, two of the biggest, have we got the legs for a third climb, albeit a minor one?

A busy day ahead we make an early start, it being fully dark when we clip in and head the wrong way down the one way street we are staying on: the correct way being full of potholes and grills.  After the days in the Alps I had been wanting to do a ride where I was on the bike when the sun came up, to enjoy the moments when the growing light changes the views.

We turn the roundabout and are straight onto the hill …. well no, actually.  That was France, we are now in Oulx, Italy.  After less than 1km from our house we are in the centre of the old town and do not start straight up a hill but head straight to a coffee shop – it’s not yet 7:00 and it’s already open.  The hill can wait.

I haven’t had a decent coffee since I left home, the coffee in France being universally … very average.  France’s poor coffee was a topic of conversation last night with the lady who runs the restaurant we dined in: being from Canada, she had passable English and could hold a conversation.  Oulx is just over the border from France and it is often discussed here in Italy – why can’t the French make good coffee?  This lady confirmed that they are supplied with the same beans as sold in Italy, and the coffee companies send reps to train the baristas but to no effect.  Either the beans are too coarsely or finely ground resulting in either weak or burnt & bitter coffee.  I just don’t understand it, I mean, it’s not like the French don’t travel, so they would get to taste good coffee and should then expect it when they get home.

I stand in the café as my coffee is made, grinning like a kid, and drink it standing at the bar.

Now the ride can start.  On cobbles, it starts on cobbles.  Forget right now any romantic notions associated with cobbles – they are beastly things to ride over.

It is cold, so all the winter gear is on.  Light has just started entering the sky and I can make out the tops of the mountains around us.  This ride chosen because it is a gentler climb than others we have done, and others nearby:  I promise!  And if the promise is broken – desertion in the ranks.  It has already been agreed – if the gradient hits 8%, I will be going on alone as someone will already have turned for home.  I have studied the profile, and on advice from restaurant lady last night, modified the route to go via the old back road and not the main road for the final 12km.

Who builds the profiles published on the net?  Same question I am asking myself as within a few kms I am pushing up 6%, where the profile had said nothing over 4% in the first 10kms.  Normally 6% doesn’t rate a mention but after the last two days, it is enough to slow us to a grind.

Wow!!!

Up ahead there is a mountain, the first rays of sun just hitting the very top.  It is shaped like the Matterhorn.  Beautiful.  Between the mountain and I are the descending ridges of several other mountains such that all I can see is the top pointed section of the mountain, the tip of which is alight from the sun.  Stunning!

After 10km we ride into a beautiful little town, Cesana Torinese.

We are only half way up this climb and already scenery wise, this has been one of the best rides on this trip.  The views continue to astound as we leave Cesana on the road that stays next to the river.  Visiting Oulx and doing this ride was not even considered 3 days ago.  Sometimes, the unexpected, the unplanned, situations turn out to be the best. 

I ride past an old man, it is steep now, and I am out of the saddle, he looks at me with an air of bemusement, and admittedly, I would have trouble explaining to him exactly why I am here.  It is regularly at 9% now, and I am still 3km from the top.  I expect Pam has turned for home – as per her earlier declaration.

Having started at a lower altitude than the other rides in the Alps the forest has continued for longer, but the steeper road takes me above it and I turn back and face directly the mountain that had fired me up this morning.  The entire upper pyramid is now in full sun, although I continue to be in full shade and therefore quite cool.

The climb continues at a solid 9% for the last 2km, at times hitting 10%.  Muscle memory all that drives the bike.

Slowly I see chalets, and then low rise apartments and then – high rise apartments.  After the beauty of the valley, the rocky stream, the incredible mountains alight in the morning sun, the sight of what is essentially a city with high rise buildings is quite confronting.

Immediately, words to the Midnight Oil song Antarctica come to mind:

“There must be one place left in the world”.

The initial reaction, emotional, ‘even here they must build’.  As I continue to grind up the 9% to the city I slowly rationalise what I am seeing.  I cannot begrudge others their sport, and that is what this city is for.  My sport requires roads, good paved roads, up through these mountains.  I often stay in these ski towns so that I can ride the passes above them.  Although the high rise nature of the accommodation jars my sensibilities, it has one advantage in that it constrains the sprawl, limits the damage if you like.  A benefit of the topography in these parts is that often, like today, the town is completely obscured from view until you are almost upon it.  And balancing my reaction is knowledge that in many parts of the Alps nature reserves have been established, creating “a place in the world, where the skin says it can breathe”.

I ride through the empty town, find a suitable place to take a photo, ‘the trophy’, and then turn and head back down.

And meet Pam, still coming up.  Contrary to her earlier statements that this ride was ‘just a leg loosener – I’ll turn back when it hits 8%’ she has continued up, drawn on by the scenery, but was stopped on the road by a herd of cattle being shepherded down the valley.

From this point down for the next few kilometres we take the descent very slowly, the smooth road being covered by lots of fresh cow droppings, which can be … slippery.

Reaching Cesana Torinese we are very cold, the hands and feet numb, the body on it’s way, and we are still 10km from home.  By the time we ride over the cobbles in Oulx, we are frozen to the bone, the numbness detracting slightly from the attraction of this ride, but only slightly.

The Numbers

Distance:  50km
Height Gained:  1,100m