LE PILGRIMAGE | DE SAINT ROCH | A GRAVEL JOURNEY INTO THE ALPES
‘I'll fear not what men say,
I'll labour night and day,
to be a pilgrim.’
The inaugural edition of Le Pilgrimage took place in auspicious circumstances, setting off in mid-September from Puy-Saint-Vincent, a small village in the Ecrins Massif, part of the Haute-Alpes. For this premier edition, Café du Cycliste was one of the official partners. St. Roch is the patron saint of Le Pilgrimage, an icon who allegedly took on ‘towering mountains and lush valleys’ during his time on earth.
He was also rumoured to be a very nice guy, and Le Pilgrimage places a lot of emphasis on conviviality as well as incredible riding. 22 pilgrims in all set off on a journey across the most breath-taking terrain the high Alps can offer, pushing through mental and physical boundaries, and making friends along the way. A spiritual test and tribute to the gravel gods of Europe and the pursuit of happiness on two wheels. Did they discover any deities out there? They certainly needed to draw on their faith for good legs…
This four-day gravel journey comprised of three self-supported stages out and back from the event’s basecamp Chalet AlpeLune, and one of these riders was Café du Cycliste’s very own Lucie Denis, from our HQ in Nice. Our woman on the ground takes up the story.
The Pilgrim’s Progress
I decided to take part in this event rather carelessly. Without looking too closely at the map and the figures indicating the climbs and kilometres to be covered. But I was enchanted by the concept. I just knew that I would feel at home there, in the heart of the mountains – ‘the sanctuary of the summit’ – in a rather intimate setting and an event with only a small group of people. I loved my time on the bike, because the longer the days in the saddle, the happier it made me. Pass after pass, despite the bad weather and sometimes tired legs; there was always a warm-welcome at the checkpoints, and on the way back to the chalets we all shared a moment together – chatting, dreaming and clinking glasses over good food. And even if some of us arrived as evangelists and others not at all, we were all there, and we all made a date for next year.
DAY 1
STAGE 1 - 119 km / 3,510 m
Checkpoint at Fort Janus (one of the Forts around Briançon on old military roads)
The first day, predictably, we all set off like children, excited by majestic surroundings, the mountain air and new faces. On the way there's a delicious bakery in Briançon where we all stopped for pizza, pain au chocolat and coffee (of course) before dispersing, each at their own pace. A good pace is important on such an outing.
The first climb is steep, in a forest on an old road that turns into a track. We climb higher and higher and see in the distance a little point with a flag flying – the checkpoint, that's where we're going. I look down to see that my giant 10-50 cassette has only one sprocket left…
DAY 2
STAGE 2 - 131 km - 3,010m
Col du Galibier + Vallée de la Clarée
We reach the checkpoint called refuge des Drayères with hot coffee, slices of pie, a small omelette, cakes and more coffee. They also had a fire place, and Crocs shoes seem to be mandatory. It was hard for my body to get into the rhythm of a hilly first day and the ascent of the Col du Galibier in the rain and fog was no picnic. I just focused on pedal after pedal. I feel alone at this point, barely able to make out the silhouette of my route partner, Matthieu.
But at the top, through heavy rain we see an open restaurant and bicycles in front of the door. Superb.
Big smiles all round after a hard climb. We drink one or two cups of coffee and eat Snickers, since that's all we have left... Some of us buy expensive waterproof gloves. A smart move as now we have to descend into the wind. We take a track to a lake and a wild expansive landscape . “C’est beau” … The wind is blowing hard, but we don't care. Now we have to walk, run and hop, AKA ‘hike-a-bike’, along a long-distance footpath to get to the checkpoint.
DAYS THREE & FOUR
STAGE 3 - 250 km / 3,700 m
Serre Ponçon, Ubaye & Tunnel du Parpaillon
The checkpoint to be hit is up at the Tunnel du Parpaillon, a mythical place, between two valleys carved out by military engineers at an altitude of over 2600m. It is the fourth highest pass in the French Alps. A two-day tour with our saddle bags, we booked a refuge near Barcelonette with other pilgrims so that we could get together in the evening and share a bowl of soup, a bottle of wine and a night of snoring.
The first day sees some beautiful roller coaster climbs through the woods, and a ‘chute’ on the first descent but nothing serious. Carefree, playful kids, that's what we are. We came across a few fountains but no coffee, it being Sunday in France. Almost in the middle of nowhere we meet a group of friends and family having a huge picnic. They offer us homemade apple juice, fresh water and cake. They laugh, they ask us questions and wish us good luck. At the end of the day we meet up with our refuge mates, with whom we make our way to our host for the night.
We are nearly devoured by eight ferocious patous (big sheep dogs), but the situation was well managed by Matthieu, our dog whisperer. In the evening, we share the table with platters of local cheese and meats. We are drunk with tiredness and raise a toast to tomorrow’s final stage and the long-awaited magic spot – the Parpaillon tunnel. We wake up, aching all over, and spread our slices of bread with jam while it's still dark outside. Everybody is quiet. Two of our crew have already left at 4am to escape the forecasted thunderstorms, the brave ones... I tell myself it's going to be a long way to the tunnel, the only way is up, up, up.
In the village of Barcelonnette we stop at a bakery. It's the only one we come across today, so we might as well make the most of it. Some of the other pilgrims have slept in town, so we'll pass each other and then naturally go our separate ways. It's 8am and we won't reach the summit before at least 1pm, just to give you an idea... Once up there though, you forget everything, the whole climb, the rain, the mud. An incredible view impossible to forget.
Friends by the fire at the refuge lit by Simon (the organiser) our very own Saint Roch. The smiles, the victory, the beauty all around us. And two big Patous puppies who were much friendlier than their bigger cousins and followed us for cuddles in this wild and isolated place.
We really have escaped up here. The storm is coming though. The thunder rumbles, the rain intensifies and we have to leave. We put on everything we had so as not to feel the cold of the mountains and not let the rain penetrate, but the long descent won't spare us. We were drenched.
But another 80 km and we reach Basecamp at the AlpeLune chalet of Mountain Hotel Saint Roch. Welcomed by fellow pilgrims, a shepherd's bell, hugs and a plate of pasta.
See you next year, my fellow pilgrims.
Photo Credit: Yorit Kluitman
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