What happens when you underestimate Alpe d'Huez!

I am currently in France chasing all the epic climbs.
And it goes without saying, there are a lot!
I am on a mission - filming them for the indoor trainer app called FulGaz.

But there is a problem with spending an extended period of time in the mountains - you become addicted to elevation gain.
At first, it was one little climb - 700m vertical gain that blew you away.
Then it was 1000m, a big one.
Then two climbs, etc.

Well, two days ago I was on the "hell, I am going to do a big day today - two 1500m climbs, Col de la Croix de Fer from both sides".

After that ride, I also decided I never would do this climb again. (It was just not my gradient.)

In the evening I checked my ride and I saw Alpe d'Huez was so close to that route! It was one of those climbs I was planning on filming anyway so how could I have missed it!!!!

I have to go back!

24 hours later I came to this epiphany I could just add Alpe d'Huez to the 6.5 hours ride the day before.

What is one more climb?
(I might want to add that I am not a big Tour de France follower so I heard about Alpe d'Huez and that there is such a big hype about it but there is a lot of hype about a lot of things, right?)

So two days after the Col de la Croix de Fer ride, I was back climbing it again. (Here goes my promise never to climb it again!)

But then, the most essential part of my mission failed. The camera gave me a no-go!

Half way up the first col! (Just a side note for the flatlanders: Just going down the mountain to repair it is not just a 10 min turn around, we are talking about hours!)

So after climbing the reminder of Croix de Fer, I had to make a monumental decision. Heading back and call it a day or keep going?




I decided to keep going.  I have been riding with a failed power meter, only three gears, a badly-to-be-greased chain and other unidentifiable bike noises for the past two weeks. A broken camera will not make me turn around. Basta!

So I descended the other side of Croix de Fer and four hours later and 1800m vertical meters in my legs I found myself in Bourg d'Oisans - the start of this self-proclaimed, tough climb.

Well, yes, it did start tough.

But then I thought it was only 10km of climbing and 1100m of ascent.

Oh wait, what?

It was starting to sunk in. This might not be the random neighborhood climb.

There were count-down markers for the corners in the... ahem... corners.
Not sure about its intentions....was it meant to devastate or encourage you?

20 corners to go.

I lost my faith in them by corner 19. Either I was already so in the red zone that I made up corners or the count-down person was vicious! Not every corner had a corner sign! (Let's talk about mental abuse here!)

Plus, my vision got so blurry that I couldnt make up the number anymore!

In short, I was losing it.

And what set me off completely were all those cyclists who were flying down the mountain.

SMILING!

Excuse me! I am suffering here, have a little bit more empathy. A more pitying face would be  appropriate!

Anyway, by corner 15±3 I decided not to look up anymore.

No smiling cyclists anymore.
No untrustworthy corners anymore.
Staring at the pavement was just fine by me!

But another misery was setting in.

I now could exactly follow my progress seeing if any pavement is moving under me.

Was I moving?

Suddenly I heard someone yelling: photo, photo!

I looked up. Yes, there was a photographer in my snail-pacing way to take a picture.

I let him do his job.

Then he wanted to give me a business card.

I think he could see my eyes behind my glasses because he immediately retracted.

At some point, and do not ask me what corner, I looked up and saw two villages above me.
Oh my god! That must be heaven or hell, well, actually both.

Of course, Alpe d'Huez was the one further up.

No time to look up anymore. I had a job to do. Staring at that darn pavement and hoping it would keep moving! 

Then signs of "Tour de France this way" appeared in my tunnel vision.

Then the corner signs disappeared.

It must be going straight or only uncornery corners now!

And I made it into Alpe d'Huez.

I was confused.

Where the heck is that damn "Arrivee" sign?

I asked frantically, distressed two coffee-drinking coffee drinkers.

"Another few meters uphill."

So I climbed those "few" meters....and I still couldnt find that one-and-only sign I would recognize from miles away!

At the seemingly end of the village I turned around and was looking for the sign. More distressed.

And by chance, I found this small, piddling sign which did not represent the size of this massive effort! They must change the sign!

(Well, you might look at the sign and say, ahem Monika, this is a pretty big sign. But I say, if you stare at the pavement for more than an hour, this sign is not exactly in your vision!)


I took my obligatory col picture. I felt disturbed, mentally and physically abused. Why would someone play with you and your legs for such a long time?

And then I descended and Alpe d'Huez became a bit friendlier. I didnt know that it actually had a view:

But back to my mission, I still need to film this climb!

Next time (meaning tomorrow), the corners, the smiling descending cyclists, the photographer and the pavement need to watch out for my Vendetta! This is not how I will leave it with Alpe d'Huez!

Oh wait, the story is not done yet. I forgot that I had to climb back over Col de la Croix de Fer (1500m elevation). And if Alpe d'Huez was misery, this was absolute hell. I was mentally so exhausted that those 50m road sign reflection markers every, well, 50m kept me going.

I think the video says it all:



And just for the record, this is the ride:

Ultralight backpack cycling adventure in France - Part 2 - What I carried

Greetings from Geneva!
I just got back from five days of ultralight backpack cycling in Southeast France.
You might wonder where Part 1 of this trip is? It is coming (I only have 18 hours before my next flight to Nice for the same adventure in a different region). But on request and with only limited time, I want to share what I carried on this trip and what it requires so it works.

I am sure that style of cycling has a name but I havent come across it yet. What I mean with ultra light backpack cycling is a combination of road cycling and bikepacking. You can go as fast as you would do on a normal road ride (and not dragged down by weight, panniers, etc) but have all the essentials that you are never bound to a place and dont have to do loops.

You just go wherever you feel like. As I do like the comfort of a real bed, I stayed in hotels, with a kitchen if possible. I ate out only once, when everything was closed - it was Sunday AND public holiday, so absolutely zero chances that something would be open in France. But I will get to this in a later part of this story. Below is the list of what I carried in my bag:

- One light shirt
- One light leggins
- One tiny sleeping pants
- Toothbrush
- Travel-size tooth paste
- Travel-size laundry soap
- Maps (as needed)
- Wind jacket
- Phone/Garmin/Light charger (had all the same plug-in, dont forget to bring the right adapter)
- Passport
- Debit Card
- Cell phone
- 1-2 bananas

Always/mostly worn during the ride:
- Bandini
- Arm-/Legwarmers
- One jersey and one bibs
- Wind jacket
- Winter gloves
- Glasses with photo-chromatic lenses
- Toe covers
- Helmet
- Cycling shoes
- Socks

On my bike: 
- Two front lights (I never rode in the dark but essential for tunnels, fog, etc)
- Rechargeable rear light
- Bike computer Garmin 520
- Saddle bag (one tube, lever)
- Frame pump
- Two water bottles (there are plenty of fountains around to refill)

No shoes besides my cycling shoes and nothing spare or extra. If I lose it, it becomes more adventurous. I forgot my phone/Garmin/light charger in one hotel. Luckily, the following hotel let me borrow a charger. (It was Sunday, so nothing was open to buy something).

When I look at the list, it seems like an awful lot and thus heavy. But since it was mostly light clothes, the weight tended to evenly distribute itself on my back so I never felt it on my back. I carried it up a lot of cols and never experienced any back pain.

I didnt bring any food besides 1-2 pieces of fruit. With one exception, it works for me and I love stopping at supermarkets (Intermarche, Casino, Carrefour, Lidl, Netto, Aldi) and pick up a fresh piece of fruit or whatever I fancy at that time.

Of course, with so little stuff to carry around, there is a bit of post-ride routine involved. Where ever I felt like, I want to stay, I went either into a Office du Tourisme or straight into a hotel and asked for a room (usually between 50-70 Euro. It always had to be near a supermarket). Then, I go into the supermarket and buy food (I left my bike inside the supermarket and had an eye on it). If I didnt get a hotel with kitchen, it had to be salad or I got a roast turkey. If I got a kitchen, options were limitless. (3 our of 5 times I got a kitchen)

After the supermarket run, I got into the hotel and washed my clothes while trying to figure out how to get them dry until the next day. Creativity was in high demand. Easy ways were there was a heater or a hair dryer or balcony. But I also pinned my clothes with knife and fork into the air conditioner to have them hung right in front of them.

After the laundry routine, I finally could prepare food. By then, 1-2 hours have passed since I decided to be done riding. While eating, I studied the map and had some rough plans where my next destination is. Except the last day (where I had to get to Geneva), I never got where I intended to get. Sometimes, I found a better route, sometimes, I didnt like the chosen route and usually I got lost anyway.

After all this post-ride activities, it was time to relax.

Of course, this is not the golden formula for such kind of cycling. It worked for me well and I will do exactly the same during the Nice trip. Feel free to ask, suggest or tell from your experiences.

In the next parts of this adventure I will cover what makes this type of riding so awesome and what my routes were. I also will write about all the lessons learned from this trip.

Bye for now, I am off to Nice!

Baw Baw Cycling Classic – Taking on the hardest climb in Australia

When I first heard about Baw Baw Cycling Classic, I was intrigued.

It sounded tough – yep that would be something I would enjoy.

For those who haven’t heard about the Baw Baw Cycling Classic, here are some numbers:

The race is 103 km long, 3200m of elevation with the last 6km averaging 11% and a few pinches of 20%. (64mi, 10,500 feet elevation, last 3.7mi averaging 11% with 20% pinches). More info on the Baw Baw climb here.

Considering that the last 6 km only cover an elevation gain of an odd 700m, you can imagine where the other 2500m of climbing coming from. You dont exactly start the last climb fresh as a daisy.

Here is the elevation chart.

Baw Baw Cycling Classic 103km/3200m elevation

Very deceiving!

 

Just as a side note, you see that little rise just before km 30? That is an elevation gain of 100m. Not as insignificant as it looks on this chart. 

The final decision if I should race was when my fellow Hurt Box rider, Meredith, told me it would be even tougher than I imagined it to be. It was not just a climb. It was a brutal 4+hr ride.

Music to my ears.

Speaking of signing up - the number of participants shows the respect for this race. Only 15 women in total signed up. It is not without a reason that Baw Baw is said to be the toughest climb in Australia.

So here I was at the start line with 14 other girls. Perfect weather conditions.

The race was split into two parts for me. Part 1 - The first 40km were tame with A grades setting the pace. At 40km, the eventual winner put in an effort and there was a natural split between the grades. I spent the next 10km or so riding with another girl and then I was by myself.

No soul around besides the occasional appearance of carnage from the categories ahead of us. 

50km on my own. 

I was hoping that I would create a gap so I wouldn’t get caught at the Baw Baw climb.

And then, I got a feeling, I usually get after riding 300+ km - I couldn’t push beyond a certain power anymore.

I just had nothing in my legs.

Anything above a certain perceived effort would lock my legs up.

I got worried.

Would this "lock-up-cramp-threshold" be high enough that I could ride up Baw Baw? 

It is not uncommon that riders push their bikes up Baw Baw. 

And then the massive wall appeared ahead of me. Six very focused, zigzagging  kilometers. (It could have been 7km from the amount of zigzagging) Any inattention would have made me swerve which would have caused me to fall over. 

It is hard to describe what you experience when riding this climb in a massively exhausted stage of fatigue. You calculate every move and hope that those 11% might ease up to 9% for a few meters. 

But instead you are greeted with two back-to-back corners of 20%!

I am not a climber and snailed my way up. Would it be fast enough to hold my competition off?

One moment to the next, another female racer (but not in my category), Steph from my Hurtbox training group, passed me. I couldn’t believe how quickly she climbed. 

Now I got seriously worried. 

So back to crawling my way up to the finish. 

2km to go. What? I didn’t even see the 3km-sign!

Monika! Of course, you did. It was just sooooo long ago that you have already forgotten about it!

Another eternity passed.

1km to go.

The games you are playing with your mind are just amazing at that point. And if you are playing that game long enough you will see the 500m sign before you know it!

Believe it or not, the mountain has a top and I finally reached it!

And I more or less pedaled the last few exhausted pedal strokes over the finish line.

So happy. 

Super exhausted. But worth the effort.
I learned later I had a spare time of 12 minutes.

Hill Climb Champ. VRS leader. (For my category)

And man, I will be there next year!What an awesome race!

Podium - Women C grade

Huge thanks to my coach and the The Hurt Box crew for their continuous support. Thanks to Alistair for the feed zone support and for Justine's great company over the weekend!