Cingles Du Mont Ventoux - Attempt 1

larsist

3 hours ago

7 min read

Three roads, one destination - Mont Ventoux. The aim, to complete all three ascents in one spin. 135 km of cycling, 4431 metres of climbing.

Malaucene To The Summit - Climb 1

We collected our bikes in Malaucene and began cycling from there. One kilometre later the ‘Cingles’ was off the table. The climb from Malaucene started 10 metres after we left the bike shop and 200 metres later a group of French cyclists coming down the mountain began shouting at us. Mark and I looked at each other, not knowing what to make of this. I have no French, and Mark had not studied it since school but was able to pick out the word fermé (Closed). We didn’t understand this, how can a mountain be closed. We cycled on hoping Mark’s high school French was at fault, it wasn’t. As we progressed two other cycles waved us down and told us the road was closed. One, with very good English, explained that the road was closed for a car race, from 8am to 6pm. We turned around and after a quick discussion agreed that we would cycle to Bedoin and climb from there. The opportunity to complete the Cingles was gone but the opportunity for an epic day on the bike was not.

Bedoin To The Summit - Climb 2

I had cycled the route from Bedoin to the top of Mont Ventoux on Rouvy, and analysed it with google maps in the weeks preseeding our trip. Now as I hit the same roads I tried to block all of that out. And for the first few kilometres I managed to do just that, I took some photos and chatted to Mark without too much concern for what lay ahead. Just over 5 kilometres after leaving Bedoin there is hairpin at Saint Esteve, this immediately sent alarm bells ringing in my head. It gets serious from here. For the next nine kilometres the road averaged above 9% and maxed out at 14.5%. There were no hairpins to offer relief just gentle bends that allow you to see all the torture that lays ahead. In the moment time seemed to move slowly, the kilometres ticked by at an excruciatingly slow rate, yet when I reached Chalet Raynard all I remembered from the previous hour was how much it hurt. I kept cycling.

The first couple of kilometres after the chalet offered a brief reprieve, not that we stopped climbing, the gradient just dipped below 7% long enough to provide some sense of momentum. I could finally take in the experience and it was epic, the rock covered mountain with its famous weather station at the top stretched out in front of me. I was on hallowed cycling ground and I could feel it. There were cyclists everywhere and they all seemed buoyant, happy their suffering was coming to a close. But Mont Ventoux and the cycling gods would not allow it to be that easy. Although you can see the summit, its proximity is an optical illusion. The twist and bends in the road are hidden by the uniformity of the rock covered surface, and the gradients creep upwards slowing progress once more until it feels like that finish line is moving further away. When finally I saw cars parked on the left hand side of the road I knew the top was near. The final sadistic twist was a hairpin bend and ramp to the finish that reached 15%. I grinded my way to the top 20 kilometres and two hours after the climbing began.

Although we remained at the top for 10 minutes after summiting, I still felt out of breath when we began descending. I couldn’t get comfortable, couldn’t compose myself and my bike was trying to pick up speed. I was relieved when we reached the brief plateau at Chalet Raynard again. I steadied myself, took some deep breaths and when we took the left hand road and headed for Sault I was ready to push on. On this side of the mountain there are a lot more bends to contend with. Being unfamiliar with them meant there was a lot of slowing too much to go around them and the pushing too hard to get back up to speed. By the time we reached Salut I felt like I just finished a race, adrenaline coursed through my vines, my heart pounded in my chest, and my legs ached from the effort.

Sault To The Summit - Climb 3

The restaurant we sat in overlooked a deep valley lush with vegetation. Just beyond it, barely visible yet clearly identifiable, was the white top of Ventoux. It did not loom over us in a foreboding way, rather its magnitude and significance was solemn, filling us with a sense of gravity and appreciation. I will probably never get to share the Anfield turf with my footballing idols, but I get to share the roads that my cycling ones wrestle every year. We left the restaurant with full bellies, and made our way through a small local market where vendors offered fresh produce, a myriad of cheeses, and plenty of wine to wash it all down. On another day we would purview the stalls and breathe in everything they had to offer, but today we had a mountain to climb, again.

The climb from Sault to the summit of Ventoux is considered the easiest of the climbs, and for the first five kilometres or so it feels like it. Gradients vary between 1% and 6%, never getting too hard or too easy for long. We set a good pace, but I was starting to feel uncomfortable again. At first I thought it was just the post lunch legs, then I thought it might be my shorts. Fidgeting and moving around didn’t help and eventually I had to stop. When I stood off the bike I could feel my stomach stretch out, and an immediate sense of relief. It turns out eating a burger and chips and then jumping on an aggressive aero bike are not a good combination. When we got moving I felt much better and was just in time to take on the hardest part of the ascent from this side of the mountain. For six kilometers the road averaged 7%, nothing compared to the climb from the Bedouin side but now with over two thousand metres of elevation in the legs it was biting hard. Three kilometres from Chalet Raynard the gradients ease so much that it almost feels like you're descending. The tension on my legs evaporated and my cadence moved above 80 rpm, this could pass for enjoyment. A brief stop at the chalet to refill the water bottles and then it was on to the same last six kilometre section as the Bedoin climb.

The section from Chalet Raynard to the top had a much more ominous feel this time around. There were less cyclists and those that I did see, no longer looked buoyant. Motorists now represented the largest populations on this part of the mountain. This was their playground too. While the cyclists brought suffering and respect, the motorists brought noise and speed. Motorbikes and fancy cars zoomed up and down, a cacophony of tyre screeching, high pitched whirling engines, and low grumbling exhausts added irritation to the suffering. For me it was now about not blowing up, rather than moving fast and it was a fine line. I pushed as much as possible but tried to stay out of the red and keep the bike moving forward. It was a tough balance, and only when I passed the Tom Simpson memorial for the second time did I start to feel confident that reaching the summit was possible. When I rose from the saddle and dragged the bike up that final 15% gradient to the waiting area at the top, I was relieved to be done with the climbing. I was also immensely proud of the achievement.

It took three hours to go from Malaucene via Bedoin to the top of Mont Ventoux, the return leg would take less than one hour. After a stop in Chalet Raynard for some celebratory pie, we began the final leg of our journey. From the chalet to Bedoin we averaged over 51kph, only twice slowing to navigate around some of the sharper bends. We barely noticed Bedoin as we zoomed through it. The section from Bedoin to Malaucene was arduous, not that I was running on empty, I was just ready for the day to be done. When we finally stopped, it was another epic cycle complete

If Carlsberg did recovery rides

I didn’t plan to cycle again on Monday. With the Cingles complete I expected to be in need of time off my feet, preferably with my legs in a horizontal position. Even with the change of plans, I still had over six hours of riding and 3,200 metres of climbing in my legs. After that level of effort I normally would have trouble walking, nevermind cycling. Strangely however, after strolling through the Bedoin markets on Monday morning and getting an exceptionally nice coffee, I felt quite good, I felt like going for a cycle.

After leaving Bedoin, we cycled through the non-descript towns of Flassan and Villes sur-Auzon. Mark had chosen the route, and had simply described it as a nice out-and-back route over rolling terrain that is popular with local cyclists, and up to the town of Villes sur-Auzon it was. After leaving the town we began climbing, but after the previous days exploits its difficult to describe it as such. We were going uphill, with gradients averaging under 3%, it was very comfortable. 17 kilometres after leaving Bedoin we rounded a left hand bend and suddenly the whole world opened up. To my right was Gorges de la Nesque. The road continued along the gorge, the surface was smooth, the pedalling easy. Everywhere you looked was nature at its finest. Sharp rock faces flowed into sprawling green vegetation, all falling into the Nesque river below. As we cycled along we could see the road curve around the mountains ahead. Each bend brought with another stunning vista. We cycled through tunnels carved into the rock, and by cyclists who like us had their head permanently titled to the right. Onwards and upwards we went, the cycling gods had rewarded us for the efforts of the previous day with a recovery ride like no other. The cherry on top was a viewing point at the end of the climb, and as we took it all in, we noticed in the background of this masterpiece - Mont Ventoux