La Diagonale Brest – Menton : une transversale franco-française aux couleurs du terroir. C’est important de partir d’un point A pour arriver à un point B. D’avoir un lieu de départ, et un lieu d’arrivée. De laisser derrière soi ce que l’on peut remettre à demain et de regarder vers l’avant, les yeux rivés sur l’objectif. De la grisaille du nord-ouest au soleil du sud-est : des ténèbres à la lumière, pourrait-on presque dire.La diagonale est une ligne droite dont seul le regard se détourne pour admirer les paysages. Les champs, les fleurs et la sensation de voyager au lieu du point de fuite.Et une évidence qui s’impose : l’autoroute est le pire moyen de découvrir un pays. Les rails de sécurité, l’empressement et le prix du droit de passage. Un cycliste Audax qui traverse nonchalamment ce pont de fer, au milieu de son périple tranquille de 1 500 km, est un véritable pied de nez à ces interminables lignes blanches.Les routiers sont peut-être les seuls voyageurs capables de comprendre l’audace de deux baroudeurs comme nous : un nombre donné de kilomètres à parcourir chaque jour, des arrêts savamment planifiés, la moyenne à tenir, les pointes de vitesse... Sur la route...Nuit et jour. La nuit d’ailleurs, elle tombe de plus en plus vite au fur et à mesure du voyage. Le temps passé sur la selle altère aussi la perception du temps : les journées deviennent des heures, les heures durent parfois quelques secondes.Puis tout à coup, la lumière au bout du tunnel. Je vois déjà la mer, elle m'attend. Et je vais m’y plonger sitôt arrivé.La baie de Menton et sa vue magnifique sont une ligne d’arrivée comme il en existe peu. S’asseoir sur la grève et repenser à tout ce que nous avons vu : la mer, les routes, les douces lignes des collines, les pics montagneux... Et si on se refaisait le film en sens inverse ? Ou alors on prend le train...

Global locale: Winter workhorses We love where we ride but we appreciate that cycling isn't about one col, one climb or even one country. Over the coming months we will be adding our support to rides organised by some of our excellent retail partners across the globe. If any of them are where you ride, we - and they - would love to see you.The Schicke Mütze business in Düsseldorf was built on group rides. Led by Carsten, a man with a punk rock history, they shake up the established winter chain-gang format and take participants on a magical mystery tour of the left banks of the Rhine. Global Locale goes to Germany for the “Winterschlampenparade”. THE RDV : SCHICKE MÜTZE There is a very common theme to be found in the best bricks and mortar cycling emporiums around the world. They are a place of enthusiasm for the bicycle. Authentic and passionate. Schicke Mütze joined the growing trend but from a different doorway - from a love of vintage bikes and classic events like L’Eroica. That approach allowed them to come to modern cycling with fresh eyes, that were looking for timeless design. And so it is that you find a bike shop, workshop and café offering curated selection of products, services and coffee under one roof, built by cyclists who are keen to find their own road. THE PELOTON : WINTER WARRIORS If you enter “Winterschlampenparade” into Google translate the result might be slightly surprising. It’s not a reference to the riders, but to their machines. “Winterschlampe” is the pet name for the trusty winter bike, equipped with slightly wider tires and mudguards. The name is a tribute to the workhorses – from the trusty steel road bike, cross bike, singlespeed, and nowadays the modern version - the gravel bike. The only rule is that it must have drop bars – no MTB, touring or pretzel handlebars allowed. Numbers vary from a peloton of 50 people when the winter sun pokes its nose out to a core of ten hardy riders when there’s a constant drizzle and the temperature doesn’t get above three degrees. The overall demographic? Weather-resistant girls and guys of all ages who want to take on the 'Rheinischer Winter' and have two-wheeled fun on Sunday. Like any successful bunch ride it is about people on the same wavelength, in this case those who believe fun does not begin in April and end in September.THE PARCOURS : NOT THE MAIN ROAD Often the Schicke Mütze Winter Parade concentrates on the area between Duisburg, Willich and Rommerskirchen. The route changes every week, but it is always around 75 km long, making a three hour social ride with a strict non-drop policy. The small roads and tracks between the fields are ideal for group rides. Contacts with motorists are rare, encounters with farmers and tractors are more likely. It’s mostly friendly waves and/or bewildered looks from any other hardy souls braving the weather. But that remoteness and slightly rougher surface also means being prepared. When a group of twenty-three people wait for half an hour in continuous rain at five degrees, because someone with a fourteen-year-old cheap tyre has three flats in a row, then looks can kill. So far, there have only been fisticuffs once.THE PRIZES: A Belgian tan, a hot shower, the rest of the day spent on the couch. Enjoying the civilised comforts after experiencing the elements in a different way. Because outside is free and afterwards inside is comfy. LA PROCHAINE Upcoming rides are happening at Cyclingworld, a stylish German Consumer Fair for cyclists. Otherwise there is a road ride on Saturdays and a gravel ride on Sundays almost every weekend from the Schicke Mütze 'clubhouse'. RIDERS' NOTES: Strava File for the Winterschlampenparade - HERE More info on Schicke Mütze HERE, and details of the rides can be found via their Strava Club HERE

La Mercan’Tour The Mercan'Tour National Park is one of France's most untouched and most highly protected nature reserves. The Gran Fondos that share its name have exclusive access each summer to traverse this alpine architecture that lies just a beach pebble's throw from the Riviera. The mountains are calling. Pick your parcours for a summer of curated col collecting. TWIST & TURN ON TURINI, 3rd June 2018 The collection of roads that climb to Col de Turini are a living museum that displays the art of route laying. The fabled switchbacks stack themselves in engineered beauty so cyclists can scale all 1,607m of the col any direction.La Mercan'Tour Turini is based in the mountain village of Saint-Martin Vesubie - 'la Suisse niçois' - and follows a parcours that wraps itself up and around every side of the mountain. Climb the north side, descend the south side and remount from the west in a col-collecting ascent that takes in the Braus, L'Orme and L'Ablé passes, before the second arrival at Turini.Finish with a 12kms drag up the valley before deciding whether or not to make the climb to La Boréon where the wolves of the Alpha Parc des Loups lie in waiting. RIDERS' NOTES: Date - 3rd June 2018 Distance - 85kms / 115kms / 125 kms Elevation - 2,200m / 2,900m / 3,400m TAKE ON TURINIEUROPE'S HIGHEST SPORTIVE17th June 2018 The Col de la Bonette is the silent giant at the centre of the Mercan'Tour series. With the additional height of the Cime (the bitumen lassoo that reaches 2,802m) it's the highest paved pass in Europe. Ride to the roof of the Alps.Starting from the mountain resort of Valberg, traverse to the Tinée valley via the Col de la Couillole before making your way up the valley to the base of the 24kms ascension of Bonette. And if the Cime is cleared of snow, be ready to reach for the sky. Col de la Cayolle is the definition of untouched beauty. Totalling 28kms from Barcelonette, with the third hors catégorie climb done, savour the source of the Var and descend with the river to Guillaumes to face to the final 15kms climb of the Col de Valberg, if you dare. As tough as La Marmotte, possibly more beautiful than any other mountain granfondo in the world. RIDERS' NOTES: Date - 17th June 2018 Distance - 99kms / 175kms / 190 kms Elevation - 1,800m / 3,700m / 4,600m LADIES' GRAN FONDO, 8th May 2018Following a path north from l'arrière-pays Niçois, from the rolling hills to the mountains in Valberg, the Ladies' Granfondo is a celebration of female cycling. Take in the perched villages of the collines before descending to the upper Var river valley. Enjoy the wide open landscapes before turning right up the Gorge du Daluis.Ride through the dramatic red rock of the Gorges on a balcony road that clings to the cliff edge with views of the perilous drops to happily distract you from the final kilometers to Guillaumes. The strong and the brave will continue up the 15kms alpine climb to Valberg.A stunning point to point ride tracing the path of the Var river to a mountain resort finish offering alpine culture and post-ride tranquility. RIDERS' NOTES:Date - 8th May 2018 Distance - 102kms / 116kms Elevation - 1,500m / 2,400m GO AGAINST THE FLOW LOGISTICSNice Côte d'Azur airport is the third largest in France with great international links provided daily by large and low-cost airlines alike. Travel to each of the towns hosting the Gran Fondo series in the Alpes-Maritimes mountains is best by car or van rental from Nice. There are plenty of accommodation options in each of the host towns, which are mountain resorts with tourist services provided readily. Bike rental, workshop and advice on each of the events and cycling in the region generally is all available at our headquarters located on the Old Port in Nice. Please feel free to email booking@cafeducycliste.com if you have any questions and we will be happy to help.

Winter cycling: More conversation, same action? I’ll be honest. I don’t like winter training. Getting out of bed in the dark and cold. Looking at the lightening sky to divine what the weather will later throw at you from above.Putting the porridge and coffee on and then, while they bubble and brew, layer after layer of clothing on your body, which still wants to be in that lovely, warm bed. And the thoughts that go through my mind: what if I don’t do it, I won’t be putting the kilometres in and I won’t be building my base and I won’t hit my goals for next summer. That bed though… Let’s be totally honest. Nobody likes winter training.But what about winter cycling? What about getting out on your bike to catch up with your friends, riding at a pace at which you can all chat.Conversations. Plans and hopes and dreams. Riding holidays, touring, long rides, adventures to come. Sagan and Froome and Barguil and Dumoulin, Paris-Nice and the Giro and Roubaix. Pro gossip, the good the bad and the ugly. The low sun through the trees. Passing into a hollow where the sun hasn’t been, swimming through waves of cool and cold air. Soup and sausage rolls and stew in a casserole on the stove top when you return home. Pastries and coffee, and more coffee and hot chocolate and coffee.And suddenly that’s four hours flown past, 100km in the bank. And maybe you put in a bit of effort just to see what’s there.Turns out the worst bit is crossing the threshold from indoors to outside. When the alarm goes in the dark and the bed seems so inviting it is difficult to believe that spring is just around the corner.But take heart. The year has turned and the darkest days have passed.Those good long days are on their way back. Let’s ride out to meet them.

Global locale: The core of South Korea The Watts Cycling KCR 530 is a unique event created to push the limits and expectations of local riders. THE RDV : BUSAN The country's second biggest city in the deep south of South Korea, home to the 'Busan Cydrome', a velodrome that hosts racing every weekend. For the riders signed up to the charity ride, the objective was to get off-track away from the sprawling metropolis and into the quiet of the countryside. Six in the morning and 265kms on the menu, means each day started and ended in darkness. Sometimes the best weekends away are when you literally fill your days with cycling.THE PELOTON : WIDE EYES & NO EXPECTATIONS A mötely crue included team Café du Cycliste, decked out in Daphne and Adèle and made visible in the dark hours with Jacqueline Audax gilets. Some are more experienced than others, like Hakju Lee who started cycling three years ago, just so he could ride beside his son as he turned his first revolutions on the pedals. For many it was a first foray into long distance cycling and what was evident was the inter-dependancy on each other to make it through 17 hours in the saddle each day.THE PARCOURS : KOREA'S COREJoining the two biggest cities in the country by riding through the nation's heartlands. Good news: this is a nation now traversed by specifically built bike paths. In the modern age when long distance cycling has suffered some high profile fatalities, we'll take the extra safety of designated byways. Bad news: it's still 530kms. But they say you should follow water for the path of least resistance. The network of bike paths in South Korea follows its four main rivers - Han River, Nakdong River, Geum River and Yeongsan River. That is not to say this is a flat ride. With 3,698m of climbing along the way riders had to find their own flow to ensure they made it to Seoul.THE PRIZES: BEER & GLORYWhat to do after your longest ever ride across your mother land? Beer, of course. Longer lasting, however, is the intimate knowledge of the country's contours and curves having rolled wheels over almost all of it. And to do that with new friends made via cycling should make a permanent entry in the cycling memoirs of all those who rode. LA PROCHAINE :The next Watt's KCR 530 will be held in October 2018.And starting this March Watts Cycling will be running weekly rides for local and visiting cyclists from their shop in Seoul. Details can be found on their Facebook page.RIDERS' NOTES: Strava File - here More info on Watts Cycling - here

Heat traces on the Côte d’Azur The temperature may be at its lowest point of the year, but the heat traces remain. We're not talking about the ever-present palm trees or even more permanent tans of some local residents, but rather the dramatic lines of the Strava Heatmap.Playing with the zoom button is a fun way to find our favourite Cols, but without labels or other cartographic features, can you guess which is which?1. SWITCHBACK OVERDOSE An easy one to begin with. A coiled spring of 65 switchbacks in total if you ride it using the old road. This one is perhaps lesser known because it's a bit of hike from Nice and fronts up to Italy, but it is an in-house favourite with an unpaved summit. 2. A MOUNTAIN LASSOWhat is interesting about this Col is that the trace is really hot on the south eastern side before fading out 10kms before the summit. Maybe that's because the road is only open for approximately six months of the year or maybe it's because each side is more than 24kms long. What the lines also show is that those that do ride to the top, usually do the extra loop... 3. THE KINGDOM OF LE ROIMore hot switchbacks but surprisingly the east side scorches a bit more brightly. On the west, look for the #everytimeipass photo point. The keen-eyed will see the north road leading to a col-bagging transition towards this climb's bigger brother.4. THE NIGHT OF THE LONG KNIVESZoom in and you see this Col is on fire, especially on the southern side. Maybe the petrolheads who make the pilgrimage to it each summer have Strava turned on too? The map shows the three major ascents, and if you climb all of them in one day you become certified.... 5. THE BALD MANTwo sets of seven neatly-stacked switchbacks in less than five kms and only 30 minutes ride from central Nice means this one gives a good exchange rate between distance and elevation. Go past the barrier to summit the bald head. 6. FERRARI RAMPSAlmost equally balanced, but once again the lesser known side of this col burns slightly brighter. This testing ground has probably seen more pro wheels than many other cols yet has never featured on the Tour. If you're lucky, you'll get a live drums performance at the top.How many can you identify? Submit your answers via our Facebook page HERE for a chance to win the Café du Cycliste cap filled with the badge for all six of the climbs.

Pax Avant Paix & froid dans les Pyrénées.La neige tombe et le bruit se calme. Jusqu'à ce qu'il disparaisse.Les Pyrénées occidentales sont comme nos propres Alpes-Maritimes. Elles sont trompeuses de par leur proximité depuis la côte et de leurs altitudes plus basses, qui cachent des montées hors catégorie de plus de 20kms. Si vous parvenez à passer par cette fenêtre de la mer aux pentes, de l'autre côté, à cette période de l'année, se trouve cet endroit idéal froid, sec et élevé.Seul sur une montagne. Déserté par les cyclistes et prêt à succomber aux autres alpinistes. Tout est calme, tout est en paix. Le Col de la Pierre Saint-Martin est un passage frontalier qui sépare la France de l'Espagne. Et qui est historique pour une tout autre forme de paix.À 11 heures du matin, le 13 juillet 1375, des communautés de chaque côté de la montagne se sont rassemblées au Col pour déclarer la paix après deux années de combats et de meurtres brutaux et sanglants. Le pacte est connu sous le nom de Pax Avant: alors, que la paix règne. Nous avons tous nos propres façons de trouver la paix. Pour beaucoup d'entre nous, cela implique d'aller plus loin. Plus vite. Ou plus haut.'Je n'apprends rien dans ce monde insignifiant des hommes. Je dois m'échapper et m'évader dans les montagnes pour prendre les nouvelles.' John Muir Peut-être que la destination que nous recherchons est amplifiée par l'effort pour l'atteindre. Parce que rouler seul dans les montagnes est toujours confortablement inconfortable. Les doutes surgissent en cours de route, des questions se posent, des problèmes sont résolus . Et des batailles sont gagnées. Tout cela pour trouver cette paix.Ce moment de réflexion. Cette pure joie d'exister. Être au bon endroit, au bon moment. Ce sens de perspective permet ce sentiment d'accomplissement.Le Pax Avant vit encore sur ces pentes. Il tient toujours à ce jour. Six cent quarante-deux ans après sa proclamation. Et pendant ces quelques heures précieuses seulement, nous qui, après tout ne sommes tous que des étrangers dans cette maison, en avons partagé sa générosité.Allez-vous partir à sa recherche? Danseriez-vous sur la neige?

ARL – MRS Le concept a été concocté par le groupe Arles Gravel et ses homologues Marseillais, Boomerang. À la recherche d’un produit extra pur, ils ont créé un produit à l’effet immédiat et super puissant, un truc qui ne pourrait que vous rendre accro au gravel. Une route riche en Vitamine G entre Arles et Marseille combinant des passages secrets, des chemins de traverse, des singletracks suaves, des coulées douces et des paysages pittoresques. Les limites de temps ? RDV pour les Marseillais au plus tôt à Arles au train de 8h00, et aux Arlésiens de rentrer au plus tard par celui de 20h00. Ce n’était pas une randonnée, une course, une balade ou un challenge, mais un voyage LE CERCLE DES GRAVELEUX ANONYMES Ils sont là dans l’ombre, aimantés par cette gare d’Arles au petit matin, une trentaine de minces cyclistes, pour certains sortant de voitures où ils attendent depuis l’aube, pour d’autres descendant du train qui vient d’arriver de Marseille. Ils savent tous pourquoi ils sont là, bien décidés à l’avoir, coûte que coûte. Et ils l’auront leur shoot de gravel, ils sont entrés dans le cercle, plus moyen de faire machine arrière.GETTING HIGH La lumière est de plus en plus brillante, roulant plein Est, face au soleil levant avec de bonnes lunettes fumées et en baissant la visière de sa casquette. Le tempo s'accélère doucettement, après s’être échauffé dans les rues du vieil Arles et les allées stabilisées des faubourgs voilà les premiers chants d’oiseaux, les reflets changeants sur l’eau du marais et la lumière stroboscopique entre les arbres qui défilent. La jungle. Le battement augmente de façon progressive, les autres ont eux aussi le sourire au lèvres. Ça y est ça monte, ça monte, on s’élève vers le ciel. Arles est déjà loin, là-bas dans le paysage.TRANSEOn reconnait sans problème les premiers à entrer en transe car ils font la course avec des chevaux au galop, ils roulent exprès dans les flaques d’eau, ils rient fort, hurlent en Anglais ou en Italien. Ça y est, ils sont partis. La transe en vélo c’est une forme jouissive de fuite en avant, une sorte de délire super dur à suivre sans un bon entraînement. Mais on arrive à coller à la roue, on profite de l’aspiration, la respiration s’amplifie, ses pupilles se dilatent, une goutte de sueur perle à l’orée de son casque. OVERDOSE & HALLUCINATIONS Filer sur une plaine désertique, giflé par le vent, déchiré par des galets qui mettent à rude épreuve les machines et les hommes. Les Coussouls de Crau, c’est trop. Trop de vibrations, trop de heurts, trop d’infinie platitude bosselée qui démoralise même les plus vaillants. Les jambes et les corps deviennent lourds. Progressivement la vitesse baisse, le coup de pédale se fait moins fluide, plus appuyé, plus laborieux L’abus de gravel provoque les premières hallucinations. À plus de 35 à l’heure sur la route goudronnée après Entressens et s'y prendrait à faire du relais avec un type en jeans taille basse, grosse ceinture en cuir, veste Adidas des années 80, baskets et pédales plates. Ce n’est pas possible, ça ne peut pas exister. Pas à 35 km/h. Le suivant à prendre un relais est un lutin en VTT (toujours à 35 km/h), un pistolet laser fixé sur le casque, un grelot brinquebalant sous la selle. Il faut vraiment arrêter la consommation d’isotonique, ça commence à nous jouer des tours. Heureusement voilà Miramas, déjà 50 km, il faudra faire une pause, se calmer.SUBSTANCEDe temps en temps ça stoppe et on reprend conscience, on ne pilote plus, on est à l’arrêt, on réalise qu’il y en a d’autres autour de soi qui sont dans le même état, qui voyagent aussi, avec leur corps et dans leur tête. Que l'on soit au fond d’un vallon calme et ensoleillé ou dans la file d’attente d’une boulangerie ouverte le dimanche, on reprend des forces, on mange un morceau pour repartir de plus belle, pour vivre plus intensément, plus vite, plus fort, prendre du plaisir, avec la sensation que ça va toujours durer... LA LIGNE SUR LE PLATEAU Au bord de la falaise, sur le plateau de Vitrolles, les cyclistes un instant descendus de leurs montures vivent l’intense expérience mystique de la ligne d’horizon. La lumière vive et froide du soleil d’hiver révèle les environs dans des couleurs artificiellement saturées. De loin, on ne comprend pas ce qu’ils crient car le vent est trop fort, l’Étang de Berre s’offre à leurs regards d’Indiens qui se prennent pour des aigles. Les yeux plissés, le rictus aux lèvres, face au paysage ils se livrent au mistral, les bras écartés, mi-oiseaux mi-humains.ANGEL DUSTParfois des zones commerciales, des zones industrielles ou leurs vestiges désaffectés nous ramènent à la dure réalité. Labos clandestins ? Raffineries ? Les boues rouges de Septèmes-les-Vallons sont là pour te rappeler les sorciers de la transformation chimique sans fois ni loi qui ont impacté à jamais la colline. Un incendie récent a fumé la forêt, il n’y a plus d’arbres, juste la piste rouge qui serpente comme une veine dans le paysage désolé. Mais le vélo de gravel, angélique, sublime le cauchemar et le transforme en rêve. On roule dans de la poudre d’ange hématite, de la poudre d’ange rouge sang, de la poudre de sang séché d’ange.STAIRWAY TO HEAVENCasse-pattes autour du Collet Redon. Nous le détestons ce Vallon de la Barre de Fer, le bien-nommé, qui va nous achever. Des bosses à 12% qui pourraient rendre malade le graveleux le plus affuté. Nous avions oublié l’existence de ces montées brutales et pierreuses, une crise d’amnésie nous aura fait occulter ce moment douloureux mais nécessaire car proche de la délivrance. Parfois la roue arrière chasse, la roue avant tape et se soulève. Après 130 km les jambes sont dures, nous serrons les dents, il faut tenir : Ensuite c’est le Centre d’Enfouissement Technique, la longue descente vers le bassin du Vallon Dol, la vue sur la mer, La Batarelle, Saint-Mitre, Saint Jérôme, Malpassé, Les Chartreux, puis l’atterrissage au cœur de la ville, boulevard Longchamp.RECHUTEFatigué, fourbu, devant une bière au Longchamp Palace, un sourire un peu niais aux lèvres, on ne ressent pas encore l’effet de manque, parce que pour aujourd’hui, nous avons eu notre dose. Nous sommes simplement heureux d’avoir vécu cette expérience, avec les autres, ce trip super fort, physique, émotionnel. Il est désormais inscrit en nous, il nous a fait avancer collectivement et il nous remue intimement. On regarde autour de soi, certains en parlent, d’autres se taisent, ressentant encore tous ensemble les effets de l’expérience. Et après ? Ben après deux ou trois jours de sevrage, nous replongerons sûrement dans le gravel, sans doute aussi en souvenir de ce que nous avons vécu aujourd’hui.Footnotes: Photos: Matthieu Lifschitz & Dan Rosilles // Texte original par Dan Rosilles

Micro-Adventure Adventure - its an age-old game between us humans and the great outdoors; setting us loose from the chains of our daily lives to test our primal instincts. It wasn’t that long ago that ‘adventure’ was a daily occurrence in our dance for survival on a more hostile planet. Nowadays some would argue that our ‘adventure scale’ has become risk-averse. Technology, specifically mobile connectivity, provides us with a great sense of security and a ‘never get lost’ feeling. But what if we flip it and argue that technology actually lets us be even more adventurous - giving us the freedom to un-plan and be spontaneous, to go where the wind takes us, and surprise us with what we find along the way. On a recent bikepacking trip in the Yorkshire Dales I put this to the test, by letting our navigation be driven by technology, specifically, the route planning app, Komoot. We had some key destinations: the Dales Trail centre, Tann Hill Inn, the beautiful village of Hawes, and some tree houses on a 200,000 acre estate. But in between there was no fixed plan, just a few digital devices to help us escape the masses whilst also pointing us in the right direction.DAY 1: PHEASANTS, CAKES, A 24% BUMP, AND AN EERIE INN Departing Harrogate later than planned didn’t stress us as with only 70km to do on the first day, we’d be well on time for dinner….depending on the level of adventure. After one hour of riding and a gate crash into the beautiful country estate, we were already taking a quick coffee and adjusting the path ahead towards Dales MTB Centre. We shied away from the MTB trails and chose instead to pop into the bike shop on site where we received some advice from the owner that would change the course of our remaining kilometres. Apparently the southern ascent of Tan Hill would avoid the predominant north westerly wind on the other side of the dale. Local knowledge is valuable, but there was a price to be paid.Mist bubbles: a Dales Phenomenon Dusk set in, and it seemed like we were making slow progress on windy, lumpy roads. By the time we hit the bottom of the Tan Hill climb, it was dark, we were weary, my bum hurt, and we still had a haul ahead of us. Then we saw the sign for a 24% incline, Josh let out some murmurs punctuated by expletives, and we began to crawl up the steep incline. Our little group spread out pretty quickly as each of us dug into our personal pain caves to get on with the job at hand. Climbing is like that. All of a sudden, everyone goes quiet. I was surrounded by a bubble of mist, my absence of bike lights sharpening my other senses. If a pin had dropped, I would have heard it a mile away. But there were no pins, no wind, it was just incredibly quiet and still. The landscape (what I could make out of it) reminded me of an old Irish legend of a chieftain who used to set his fork into a spin in the mist so no one could find it.Once over the top and through the last kilometres, the reception I received on walking into the Tan Hill Inn is like what I imagined an old Western saloon to be like. No one even really looked up from their food or drink, least of all the barman, who ignored me for about five minutes. There I was, exhausted yet full of happiness to have landed...and no one seemed to care. AT. ALL...except for an Australian man in lycra nursing a pint in the corner. He asked me if I had come far, and I said Harrogate...he said “oh that's a decent ride”...I subsequently found out he had ridden 150 km that day and was expecting to reach the Scottish border the next day to visit his sister!DAY 2: BUTTERTUBS, CHEESE AND SWINTON ESTATE After a big breakfast we prepared our bikes and considered our route with Komoot. Meanwhile the Australian was ready before us - he knew where he was going already. We, on the other hand, were all about discovery and the road untravelled (and taking SO MUCH time to get ready). Ok. Perhaps Buttertubs, the mountain pass we would need to climb over to get to Hawes, our first stop, is more travelled than untravelled. This windy climb was the 2nd mountain classification in the 2014 Tour de France, its name hailing from the time farmers would lower their butter into potholes on hot days when taking breaks from the arduous ascent over the pass. On an unloaded bike, Buttertubs would be a good climb, not too long, a bit steep at the beginning but...fine. On loaded bikes, it is a completely different story. Conclusion – you can never have too many gears when in touring mode.With a ‘mountain’ climbed, the culinary crusade continued. At Hawes we feasted on homemade soup and giant sized Wensleydale cheese sandwiches. This perhaps influenced the decision to take the flatter route to Castle Bolton, which also allowed us to make a coffee stop in the woods at the side of the road. Making quality coffee in random places is hugely underrated. That stop turned out to be our saviour as the backroads took more turns than expected and once again we were riding through the dark towards our tree house accommodation on Swinton estate. Riding on narrow, windy backroads in the dark has the effect of slowing everything down a notch – and with friends it was surprisingly relaxing rather than haunting. On arrival it turned out our tree houses were actually ground-bound rustic cabins. But hot showers washed away the disappoint on missing out on a bed between the branches.DAY 3: HARROGATE-BOUND THROUGH BLUSTERY WIND AND RAIN As expected, we woke to high winds and pelting rain. There was nothing else for it - we reverted to stuffing ourselves with tasty food to prolong the moment we would have to get on our bikes and make our way back to Harrogate. I was beginning to detect some behavioural patterns in our group... Our trip coming to an end prematurely, I felt like the best part was yet to come and I wished we could have carried on. There was so much to see and explore in the Dales we had barely scratched the surface.

Globale locale: Danish delights We love where we ride but we appreciate that cycling isn't about one col, one climb or even one country. Over the coming months we will be adding our support to rides organised by some of our excellent retail partners across the globe. If any of them are where you ride, we - and they - would love to see you. First on the list: Farum just outside Copenhagen - the city known as a cycling mecca for those on the northern part of the continent.THE RDV : VELO PAVÉ The go-to meeting point for Copenhagen riders wanting to ride into space….Our long-term retail partners with an eye for style, a love of fine bikes and the odd gravel path. They also have a thriving community of female riders and so this particular ride was the second edition of the Velo Pave & Café du Cycliste 100 Women's Ride. A race which isn’t a race, but more a celebration of women and cycling squeezed into 50 kilometers of glorious terrain. THE PELOTON : 100 WOMEN The Womens 100 ride does what it says on the tin. One of the largest groups of female riders you’ll find this side of the atlantic. From new riders on new bikes to club racers and everything in between. Many have found a new passion via Velo Pavé, helped in no small part by clothing that fits the bill. It's social at the back, anti-social at the front and each rider picks her place accordingly. And we guess in these colder climes, there is heat in numbers.THE PARCOURS : ROLLERS & DUTCH HILLSNorthern Sealand sounds like you’re bound to meet polar bears along the road, but it is in fact only 25 kilometers North of Copenhagen. The Women's Ride takes in a curated lap of the countryside through picturesque farmland and rolling hills. Add to this some 'dutch hills' and pan-flat elevation profiles can be deceiving. Hills and headwinds split the female peloton into smaller groups but there is a constant stream of riders on this network of rural roads, with friendly waves exchanged by everyone. It's seemingly a collective enjoyment of the open space away from the city. Past the lake of Buresoe, through the leafy woods and onto the main hilly roads towards the small towns of Slagslunde and Ganloese it's easy to undersand why. THE PRIZES: CHAMPAGNE & CUPCAKESChilled champagne savoured, not sprayed. A classy reward at the end of a 'race that's not a race'. And the other rewards: the kilometres banked in the legs and the jokes from the road. Live music in the shop means the endorphin kick is preserved for as long as possible.LA PROCHAINE : The next Women’s 100 will be held on 29th September 2018.In the meantime, Velo-Pavé's club of 200 members has weekly rides both on and off-road for groups of different abilities throughout the year. RIDERS' NOTES:Strava File - hereMore info on Velo Pavé - here

Torino-Nice Rally UN VOL POUR NICE PAR TEMPS CLAIR. ALORS QUE L'AVION FRANCHIT LES SOMMETS DES ALPES DU SUD, L'ŒIL EST IRRÉMÉDIABLEMENT ATTIRÉ PAR CE QUI SE PROFILE PAR LE HUBLOT...« QU'IL FERAIT BON DE PERDRE DANS CES MONTAGNES. » De Ponte Marmosa à la vallée de Maria, face nord du Piémont. Les pentes bitumées, abruptes et sans pitié, permettent de rejoindre le col de Preit avant de se transformer en chemin de graviers. Graviers devant, graviers à droite. Les aventuriers du rallye Turin–Nice bifurquent à droite et laissent le col derrière eux. Ils montent, descendent, remontent, rencontrent quelques rares portions de plat, certaines presque damées, d'autres carrément rocailleuses. Le quatrième jour, ils se sont déjà rendu à l'évidence qu'il fallait prendre les choses comme elles venaient. Et ici le « petit Pérou » : 35 km de haute montagne et de graviers en pleine nature. Les inquiétudes des préparatifs sont loin derrière, la tension du premier jour s'est évanouie et la paranoïa de l'ennui mécanique est oubliée. Les cyclistes suivent le cours des montées et des descentes de cette grande piste paradisiaque qui esquive par une cuvette intérieure les pics de granit déchiqueté en surplomb, avant de suivre une descente en spirale qui rejoint le bitume, juste en dessous du col de Fauniera. D'aucuns pensent que c'est là l'endroit le plus beau de tout le rallye. En tous les cas, c'est certainement la piste de graviers la plus fascinante au monde.DE L'AVION, LE VOYAGEUR SE DEMANDE « EST-CE QUE CETTE LIGNE QUI POURFEND LE FLANC DE LA MONTAGNE EST PRATICABLE ? » Praticable ou non praticable, là n'est pas vraiment la question pour les cyclistes du­­ rallye Turin–Nice. Tout est possible avec le bon vélo et la bonne proportion de bagages. Le groupe qui s'est formé à Turin était pour le moins éclectique : des VTT enduro aux cyclo-cross modifiés, jusqu'aux vélos de route ! « Ce ne sont que des montagnes... » avions-nous fanfaronné avec un peu de désinvolture dans nos e-mails à James, l'organisateur, avant l'événement. En nous lisant, il a dû penser au col de Colombart et rire un bon coup de notre naïveté. Des pentes à 25 %, des rochers de la taille d'un ballon de foot qui émergent du sol, 25 à 30 ºC... Sans oublier nos 9 kg de bagages. C'est ça le rallye Turin–Nice. On l'aime alors on encaisse.PAR LE HUBLOT, DANS LE PROLONGEMENT DE L'AILE SE PROFILE UN SOMMET ENNEIGÉ...« À COMBIEN PEUT-IL CUMULER ? » En faisant le rallye Turin–Nice, on réalise que l'endroit idéal pour faire du vélo en montagne se situe entre deux et trois mille mètres d'altitude. C'est là que les sommets perdent leurs arbres, que les rochers se révèlent dans toute leur splendeur géologique et que le ciel devient plus bleu. D'un bleu limpide. D'un magnifique bleu alpin. À l'autre bout du chemin, la Via del Sale suit la crête et la frontière à 2 000 m. Les chemins non pavés qui partent des cols – généralement dans le prolongement des routes asphaltées – sont un véritable paradis pour les épris de liberté. Mais, il est bien connu que le paradis n'est pas facile d'accès.ENTRE LES REPLIS DES MONTAGNES SE CACHENT, TAPIES DANS L'OMBRE, DES VALLÉES QU'IL EST IMPOSSIBLE D'APERCEVOIR DEPUIS LE HUBLOT. « QUE PEUT-IL BIEN Y AVOIR EN BAS ? » Les vallées recèlent de surprises – comme les deux montées de 500 m entre Pourrières et Briançon – avant de reprendre de l'altitude pour rejoindre le col d’Izoard. Pas vraiment le genre d'exercice dont nos jambes déjà fatiguées ont besoin. Le doute nous assaille. Une fatigue que nous n'avions pas prévue. Nous reformons le peloton, le franchissement de l'Izoard est comme une résurrection : peut-être pourrons-nous rejoindre Agnel avant le coucher du soleil ? Un hôtel se niche au pied de la montée. Et l'unique autre option se trouve à 18 km et 1 800 m plus haut. Ou alors dormir à la belle étoile, comme les vrais du rallye ? Mais bon, ils font de la bière et proposent un menu à la carte. Et puis, laver nos cuissard ne serait pas un luxe... Voilà pourquoi la vallée est si tentante. Nous avons-vous parlé de la trattoria qui se trouve versant italien, avec ses double expressos serrés et sa focaccia au jambon fumée, tomates et mozzarella ?QU'EST-CE QUI SE CACHE ENTRE CES SOMMETS ? Dans la montée du col de Finestre, nous dépassons un troupeau d'au moins 50 vaches que deux fermiers sont en train de traire une par une... À sept heures du soir et 1 800 m d'altitude. De l'autre côté, des rapaces en quête de proies tournoient dans le ciel qui s'obscurcit peu à peu. Nous tombons presque nez à nez avec un chevreuil. Mais ils sont rares, les vaches sont tout de même plus fréquentes ! Que font-elles là, dans ce petit Pérou ? Entretenir la pelouse ? Ou peut-être pour produire la meilleure mozzarella du monde ? Dans ces dernières journées estivales, le paysage semble idyllique. Pourtant, pas d'illusions : ce petit coin de paradis ne restera encore ouvert qu'un mois tout au plus, business oblige.LES TRACÉS SONT IMAGINÉS SUR UN SIÈGE D'AVION. MAIS DE VOIR LA GRANDEUR DE CES MONTAGNES LORS DE LA DESCENTE SUR NICE, LE DOUTE S'IMMISCE...« EN SERAI-JE CAPABLE ? » En tout cas le Turin–Nice oui, c'est faisable... si on aime en baver. La carte du tracé et les fichiers gpx sont à disposition si vous les voulez. Sinon trouver votre chemin en direction de Café du Cycliste à Nice. C'est ce que Benedict Campbell a fait : il a décidé de prendre par le col de la Bonette et d'explorer un ou deux bunkers en chemin. Voilà ce qui arrive quand des « purs routiers » décident de faire le rallye Turin–Nice : zéro bivouac (bien que nous avions pris le matériel), de gros petit-déjeuners et des départs tardifs, de gros coups d'accélérateur pour franchir une vallée en mode contre-la-montre et des double expressos en milieu d'après-midi.L'AVION ATTERRIT À NICE. LA CHALEUR MONTE AU FUR ET À MESURE QUE L'ON DESCEND L'ESCALIER. VITE, UNE BIÈRE OU UN VERRE DE ROSÉ SUR LA PLAGE. JUSTE LE TEMPS DE PEAUFINER LE TRACÉ. Le briefing d'avant départ fixait le point de ralliement au Café du Cycliste et faisait miroiter les bières que l'on prendrait ensuite au pub Ma Nolans à côté, sur le port. L'heure du rendez-vous ? Entre 5 et 12 jours après le départ. C'est comme ça que le Turin–Nice fonctionne. Malheureusement, les pluies torrentielles ont mis un terme à cette douce conclusion de rêve. Bloqués dans une gare sans train à La Brigue, nous bottons en touche et appelons un copain. Mais ce qui est fait, est fait. Les pistes de montagne nous ont marqués. Et nous y reviendrions. RIDERS' NOTES Torino - Nice Rally: Komoot Collection TNR website for the 3rd Edition - here FOOTNOTESPhotography : Antton Miettinen

Encore trois zinzins Three slices of pizza. Not perfectly symmetrical. Not equally loaded with toppings. But from the same base, with the same taste, part of a whole...Our ambassador Matthieu, aka Manivelle.cc, our friend and top mannequin, Fred, and original Niçois rouleur Denis Morino decided the Brevet des Zinzins de Turini had been over-looked so far* this summer so they used it to fill a gap in their late season calendar. (*actually, Fred is already a certified Zinzin having completed it solo earlier this year). We asked each of them individually to sum up the ride. The rule of the triology continued…LIBERTÉ FRED: Freedom on the road has to be shared with friends, passing time on the road with stories from the road, like Matthieu’s tales from this year's TCR. DENIS: It was more than just a big day out on the bike. It was an impromptu assault on the three sides of Turini. These unplanned adventures often turn out to be the best. MATTHIEU: It’s a tough brevet, climbing sharp gradients under the sun, stretching your limits in the heat corner after corner. Thankfully the water comes for free at the fountains in the mountain villages and it gave us an excuse to stop and have a joke. The only restriction on time was sunset.EGALITÉ FRED: You must balance the effort you put out, with the food you put in. On the menu: homemade farcis, pasta with chicken and spinach, beer and Italian wine. And at the end pizza, tourte de blettes and caramel and hazelnut tart. DENIS: Almost every side is equally as hard as the other, with two of the ascents being more than 20kms in length. As a Niçois now living in Toulon I had forgotten the severity of some of the slopes and the magic of the landscapes and the small villages nestled in the mountains, yet so close to the city. MATTHIEU: Each stop to stamp our brevet cards at the bottom and top of each climb was equally amusing. We joked and compared notes on the last climb and descent. And we ate. A lot. But not all road snacks are equal and the Holy Grail was the blueberry tart at the end of the final climb.FRATERNITÉ FRED: We reached the col by the three different sides, we are three cyclists who come from different places, but we all point in the same direction. We have the same passion for the effort and the pleasure of sharing the experience with each other. DENIS: I am proud to be a Zinzin. MATTHIEU: Nothing is more important than having a great team, one that keeps you going, that serves as a point of focus, that makes you never give in, in order to share in a special moment. Unforgettable.

Tour du Lozère, an autumn classic « Quant à moi, je voyage non pour aller quelque part, mais pour marcher. Je voyage pour le plaisir de voyager. L’important est de bouger, d’éprouver de plus près les nécessités et les embarras de la vie, de quitter le lit douillet de la civilisation, de sentir sous mes pieds le granit terrestre et les silex épars avec leurs coupants. » 'Voyage avec un âne dans les Cévennes', Robert Louis Stevenson. Robert Louis Stevenson était à la recherche d'inspiration pour écrire un nouvel ouvrage. Il avait aussi besoin de s'évader quelque temps, pour laisser derrière lui une douloureuse peine de cœur. Il choisit alors de partir dans les Cévennes avec pour seule compagnie une ânesse. Le massif des Cévennes s'étend sur quatre départements. On y trouve notamment le mont Aigoual, magnifique en-soi, mais aussi très connu pour le grand classique littéraire 'The Rider' de Tim Krabbe. Ces montagnes sont visiblement capables d'inspirer les plus grands auteurs... et quelques cyclistes! R. L. Stevenson parcourut environ 200 km en 12 jours, bien ralenti par le rythme nonchalant de sa compagne de voyage. Un compte-rendu plus récent nous vient d'un autre écrivain-voyageur – et accessoirement l'un des Pionniers de Chilkoot – que nous avons déjà retrouvé au Ventoux, dans le massif des Maures et à travers toute l'Europe. Lui aussi s'est nourri de ces romans d'aventure. Et une classique d'automne était née... Les Cévennes recèlent de routes presque désertes, de paysages très ouverts et, à cette époque de l'année, de couleurs chatoyantes. Petite échappée d'inter-saison ou pour tourner une page, un peu comme R. L. Stevenson.l existe aujourd'hui un sentier de Grande Randonnée qui suit peu ou prou le chemin tracé par R. L. Stevenson et son ânesse autour et par dessus le mont Lozère. « Il nous a montré les paysages qui nous ont façonnés » s'accordaient à dire bien des Cévenoles de l'époque. Cette maxime est encore valable aujourd'hui pour les cyclistes qui arpentent ces routes. Les chemins que nous empruntons façonnent nos mollets mais aussi nos esprits.Les vastes plateaux calcaires de cette partie des Causses n'offrent pas les défis que d'aucuns attendraient, mais ces grands espaces sculptent les jambes en même temps qu'ils libèrent l'esprit. Des sources du Tarn (mont Lozère) aux gorges du même nom juste en dessous, la route n'est pas aussi fréquentée que celles des Alpes-Maritimes, mais elle n'en est pas moins ardue. De ces terres, un peu à l'image de notre col de Vence, au-dessus desquelles les charognards tracent des cercles dans le ciel. Ils étaient probablement déjà là, ces vautours, en 1960, lors du terrible accident de Roger Rivière dans la descente du mont Aigoual. Alors qu'il est à la poursuite du maillot jaune, il prend tous les risques pour suivre Gastone Nencini, excellent descendeur. Ils venaient de franchir le col de Perjuret ensemble et Roger Rivière était dans sa roue pour perdre le moins de minutes possible. Il en a perdu la course et ce fut la fin de sa carrière. Antoine Blondin rapporte dans son article 'En travers de la gorge' (L'Équipe du 11 juillet 1960) : « Il gisait, à une vingtaine de mètres, en contrebas, dissimulé par un repli de terrain, frappé d'une sorte de paralysie qui lui interdisait le moindre geste, le moindre appel. Et toute cette nature qui l'entourait lui faisait un linceul rugueux. » Le mont Aigoual a marqué à tout jamais le pauvre corps de Roger Rivière. Le mont Lozère, tout proche, sculpte encore les vies de ceux qui cherchent à en tirer subsistance. C'est l'un des derniers recoins au monde ou la traditionnelle transhumance a lieu. Le Tour de Lozère est l'une des dernières valses avec les montagnes avant l'arrivée de l'hiver. Les pensées commencent à s'engourdir avec la baisse du thermomètre et de la luminosité. C'est un des derniers week-ends de sortie, mais comme l'a écrit R. L. Stevenson :« lorsque le présent montre tant d’exigences, qui peut se soucier du futur ? » Footnotes: Photos - Matthieu Lifshitz // Matthieu Perrusset // Tony Bidel

Doubletrack diaries: Unexpected light, what adventures are made of There's a book I once enjoyed about a guy traveling in Afghanistan at the end of the Soviet era called An Unexpected Light. He's a journalist who goes to meet the Mujahedeen before the Taliban took over, whilst they were still fighting the Russians. The unexpected nature of the light he encounters is in the oppressed people; the openness of them, their welcoming attitude towards some Englishman in their midst, and of course the actual light itself. It really opened my mind to travel in far off destinations, and particularly in the middle East.Now my 'Unexpected Light' is partly the light itself in Provence and the Cote d'Azur. I know that it's a place of painters and artists, with the classic views of azure sea, fields of lavender, mountains and valleys, but the light is just fantastic. Soft and golden, stark and glaring, with subtle nuances and garish colours, it really is an artist’s palette in the sky. Add to this the other sensory abstractions; the sounds of the wind and the crickets, the babbling brooks, and tinkle of goat bells. The smells of wild herbs crushed under foot, hot pine sap in the middday sun, a nose full of a flower's perfume as you turn a corner, and the sharp tang of dust in an unmade road. And the light. The brutal glare of the midday sun. The wash of moon and starlight. Dusk and dawn with the most stunning shades of pink, orange, ochre and purple. Then there's the views that catch the eye: the hilltop village, the church on a ridge, the mile upon mile of vineyards. The wooded hills and arid pains. The coloured earth of the brightest of reds, turning to yellows and ochre as you descend through the ages of the rock strata.Towering above it all is the giant of Provence, Mont Ventoux, that's actually in the Vaucluse... I rode on a few roads today, but they're so busy I can't say they were much fun. The constant worry of the bad, careless or just distracted drivers puts me off spending much time on them. I think that my love of cycling is a lot about movement, but also about the meditation of it. The movement is easy to come by, you just choose a nice place to ride and enjoy the changing view. The rise and fall of the trail, the twists and turns in the landscape. The meditation is a little harder to achieve as it comes from the mindless act of pedalling, the effort you have to put in, and the place you do it in. It focusses the mind and has a way of shutting up the jabbering monkey brain stuck inside. Riding in traffic switches that focus to negative outside influences. Traveling off road you do have to think about the changing surface, choosing a good line, listening out for other vehicles around blind corners, but all that soon becomes second nature with repeated exposure to it, and it's then easy to find the sweet spot in your mind: focus without focus. Thinking without thinking. The meditation of the ride.The crunch of gravel takes over. The whirring of gears is almost drowned out. That click or creak from your bike is forgotten, and you can lose yourself in the moments of calm, find solace in the effort of cresting a rise. Embrace your inner five year old when railing a corner, whooping for joy that you made it around unscathed again, kicking up plumes of dust, drifting the bike over the camber of the track to kiss the apex of the next corner and slingshot out the other side. Touring off road has many benefits for the traveller who's not in a rush. You don't need to pick your place to stop so diligently as you do on the road. Shade, view, comfortable seating, Nothing more is needed. Drinking water is good, but if you're touring off road then you should always have more than you think you might need. Picking your accommodation for the night is also more care-free. If you've got a tent and a sense of adventure then there's so many great places along the 'trail less travelled' to pitch up for the night. The edge of a field is good. Away from any houses is vital. Views are nice but not essential. A river or lake to wash in is great but you might well be fighting off insects if you insist on those places for the night. The middle of a forest is the most tranquil if you remember that you're the scariest thing in those woods. Mountain tops are great as long as the weather is benign, the views can spectacular but if you get the weather and aspect of your chosen spot wrong then I can guarantee you a bad night’s sleep.The key thing is keeping an open mind and being away from civilisation, and then you can sleep soundly. The sleep of a wild camp well chosen Being different isn't easy as you have to forge your own path. You also have to deal with the strange looks that you get and the series of questions that inevitably get asked: What? When? How? And the biggest, and unasked one, 'Why?' But following what others do isn't for me. I like to try and be original. It doesn't always work but it makes life a lot more interesting. By deliberately going out of my way to find the tracks only used by locals, or the campsites that you'll never find from the comfort of a car or in a guide book, has brought me the greatest experiences of this trip, and long may that continue. That is of course, what adventures are made of.

Born to Ride avec Team Détente Les événements longue distance. Comment les appréhende-t-on? Option 1 - Tête baissée et on martel. Option 2 - Courez en solo et nourrissez votre motivation des paysages, de l'introspection, de l'évasion et des interactions possibles que vous croisez en chemin. Option 3 - Détendez-vous avec des amis pour un maximum de plaisir sur la route. Et concentrez-vous sur la consommation de calories. Pâtisseries, café, glaces, pizza, chocolat ... Ceci est un Matthieu qui se déplace seul. La classe et le style sont évidents, mais il manque quelque chose.Team Détente. Partenaires sur la route de Matthieu. Ils se sont joints à lui pour un événement longue distance signé Chilkoot, Born To Ride - un voyage montagneux qui a commencé sur le Mont Sainte-Odile dans les Vosges et a terminé au Mont Aigoual dans le Massif Central et qui a fait quelques crochets via l'Allemagne, la Suisse et l'Italie. Au fait, dans le cas où ça n'était pas évident, Team Détente a choisi l'option 3.Qui sont Team Détente? Réponse: ils sont le cœur battant des pionniers de Chilkoot Christopher: Un finisseur de la Transcontinental Race et connu affectueusement comme Crazy Ninja. Il ronfle très fort. Denis: Si fort qu'il pourrait vous paralyser avec son petit doigt. Et il aime chanter des chansons de la comédie musicale Starmania, parfois en train de se baigner dans des fontaines.François: l'année dernière, il a fait les parcours de chaque classique d'une journée en une saison, en hommage au grand Eddy Merckx. Et lorsqu'il est sur la route, il aime manger son propre poids en nourriture chaque jour. Matthieu: M. Relax lui-même. Un métronome sur pédales. La longue distance est son médicament, mais il est un expert pour savoir quand s'arrêter pour une photo ou même manger un gâteau à la crème de type Tropézienne.Bien que le nom suggère une approche plus 'à la cool', la Team Détente est assez expérimentée pour être taquine dans ce jeu de longue distance. Ils traversent les checkpoints dans le temps (pas une tâche simple en soi), mais ils ajoutent également leurs propres checkpointsQuels sont ces checkpoints supplémentaires? Boulangeries, bars, pizzerias, restaurants, sandwicheries, supérettes et stations-service. Des stations-service ?Et entre chaque, ils s'amusent comme ils le peuvent: Concours de blagues, meilleures interprétations d'Eddy Mitchell ou Starmania, concours photo, tout est autorisé. C'est bien entendu souhaité étant donné qu'ils traversent quatre des sommets les plus élevés des Alpes, y compris le Mont Ventoux comme avant-dernière montée.Cela ne veut pas dire que leur voyage est sans douleur. Mais, partout dans le monde, il y a des souffrances et des souffrances réelles - Team Détente cherche à garder le tout en perspective. L'équilibre entre faire des progrès pour obtenir le meilleur temps possible et prendre du temps pour profiter du voyage dans le contexte d'une course longue distance est plutôt mince.Voulez-vous faire le meilleur temps possible ou souhaitez-vous passer du bon temps? La Team Détente ne juge pas. Il est reconnu et respecté qu'il existe d'énormes succès personnels dans la course contre la montre. Mais il y a aussi un autre moyen, si vous voulez le saisir. Peut-être à la façon de la Team Détente? L'amitié et les montagnes, parsemées d'une bonne dose de bivouac, d'un zeste de refuge de haute montagne et peut-être un soupçon d'hôtel à Briançon.Les premiers coureurs arrivèrent avec un peu plus d'une journée d'avance sur notre groupe de joyeux lurons qui ont gagné l'admiration des organisateurs et des autres cyclistes. Mais s'ils étaient amenés à le faire à nouveau (et ils le feront bien volontiers), la Team Détente ne changerait pas une ligne de l'histoire vécue sur ce BTR 2017.Footnotes: Textes : Matthieu Lifschitz // Photos : Matthieu Lifschitz & Mickael Gagne

Double track diaries Andy Cox caught our attention on Instagram with photos of remote gravel roads that lived up to his @doubletrackfanatic name tag. As we followed with interest, added to the double-tracks were the high mountain vistas from across the Vosges, the Jura mountains and eventually the Alps. Following his nose led Andy inevitably to Café du Cycliste where we wanted to interview him. But with all that thinking time whilst living and riding solo, he'd done our job already. These are the Doubletrack Diaries. So, I thought I'd catch up with the intrepid traveller after yesterday's travails. Ask him (me) some burning questions I'm sure you're all dying to know. (AC is you, I mean me, asking the questions. DTF: is Doubletrackfanatic, the rugged traveller and lover of the outdoors) AC: GIVE US A SMALL BIOGRAPHY DTF: Andy Cox, 39 and a half, born in Oxford, lived in south Wales for the last 8 years. AC: SO, THIS IS A MIDLIFE CRISIS JOURNEY THEN? DTF: Hardly... I've been having midweek, existential, crises for the last two decades, so no not midlife, more the need to do something other than the same thing every day. My life felt like it was getting stale, so I thought I'd go exploring the world for a while.AC: SO, YOU'VE GOT NO FAMILY THEN? JOB, CAR, MORTGAGE? DTF: No dependents, no. Parents and siblings sure, and I own my own house, so the rent I'm getting from it is paying for my trip. Jobs come and go, cars, well I can't drive so no. AC: YOUR ROUTE ISN'T A NORMAL ONE IT SEEMS. LOOPING ABOUT AND RETURNING TO PLACES AGAIN. EXPAND A LITTLE ON THIS PLEASE. DTF: I think the phrase 'Making it up as I go along' explains it well. I've tried a few of the mapped bikepacking routes, off road touring really, and they're not really for me. I can carry 3 days of food and I like the solitary existence in the hills and mountains, so I'm using the routes as a guide. I'm not a fan of cities, or campsites, so I try to stick to dirt roads and easy trails if I can, camping in the woods or on mountain tops. AC: YOU MUST BE PRETTY SELF-CONFIDENT THEN? DTF: Well there's self-confidence, which is something you show to others, and there's confidence in yourself, which is knowing your limits, your skill and your fears, and knowing how far you can push them. Two very different things. I'm not especially self-confident, but I'm very confident in myself. I know I can push my limits pretty far out of my comfort zone, and still keep my head while others around me are losing theirs. Years of solo riding and adventures have taught me a lot about myself and I now trust my instincts implicitly. Self-confidence is linked to self-esteem and self-image, of which I'm lacking a bit in.AC: DON'T YOU GET LONELY? DTF: Much less so than I did when I lived in the UK. Sure, I miss people and the ability to just strike up a conversation with someone, my French isn't very good, but I meet more interesting and interested people while day to day traveling then I ever would at home. AC: BACK TO YOUR ROUTE FOR A MINUTE, HOW DO YOU FIND WHERE TO GO? JUST BY CHANCE? LUCK? DTF: I follow my nose. I look at a map, find something that looks cool, a trail, a doubletrack, a view point or place, and find an interesting way to get there. Sometimes it goes wrong but often I find some unexpected gems and they're what makes my adventure an adventure rather than just a bike tour. The unexpected is often the most enjoyable as you have no preconceptions so are just open to experience the moment for what it is. AC: SO WHERE NEXT THEN? DTF: Mont Ventoux I think, off road of course, then back here to Nice to ride the Torino Nice Rally at the beginning of September. Then south towards Spain and follow the warmth into the autumn and winter. Maybe Morocco for Xmas, but I'm easy. How does not the UK sound?AC: Sounds good to meAC: GIVE US A FEW HIGHLIGHTS OF YOUR TRIP; DTF: To list a few…Riding away from my front door was great. Seeing the Alps for the first time entirely self-propelled. Crossing the petite saint Bernard pass while it was still covered in snow. Via del Sale and the Atla Via high altitude double tracks. AC: LOW POINTS? DTF: They generally involved a big city, a long day of headwinds, or the Simplon pass with its traffic and tunnels. Not many considering where I've been and what I've lived through.AC: THANKS FOR YOUR TIME.

La via del sale Aujourd'hui, le sel est sur toutes les tables, nous n'y prêtons même plus attention. Et pourtant, il fut un temps où le sel était affaire de vie ou de mort, une véritable mine d'or pour qui l'exploitait. Des centaines de routes du sel traversaient l'Europe, reliant les marais de la mer Méditerranée ou de grands ports comme Nice, à tous les recoins du continent. Le sel n'était pas qu'affaire de goût, il était indispensable à la conservation des aliments. Des routes traversaient la Pologne, l'ex-Tchécoslovaquie, la Toscane, la plaine du Pô, toute la Suisse...Dans les Alpes maritimes, au nord de Nice, les différentes dynasties souveraines de la région (comtes de Provence, ducs de Savoie et Lascaris de Tende) ont cherché les unes après les autres à contrôler le commerce du sel pour s'enrichir. Des routes furent creusées au travers de gorges et montagnes. Les villages sur leur tracé sont devenus des villes, puis des cités puissantes grâce à la gabelle. Aujourd'hui, la quasi-totalité des routes du sel ont disparu. Les quelques rescapées sont désertes et affaissées, vestiges à peine reconnaissables dans les montagnes les plus reculées qui soient. Bref, un contexte idéal pour une nouvelle aventure. Nous avons grimpé la route qui part de Tende et dont le tracé suit l'ancienne route du sel.Tende émerge comme un rempart au pied du col de Tende qui reste l'un des principaux points de traversée de la frontière. Mais c'est aussi la route la plus directe pour relier les marais salants de Camargue et de Hyères aux magasins de la maison de Savoie, dynastie turinoise qui régna sur toutes les Alpes. Ce chemin étroit, emprunté depuis des temps immémoriaux par des tribus et les envahisseurs sarrasins, fut élargi et amélioré par le duché de Savoie. Lorsque le commerce atteignit son apogée au XVIIIe siècle, 45 000 mules transitaient sur cette route pour franchir le col chaque année, principalement pour transporter du sel. Après avoir traversé la ville, nous avons opté pour l'ancienne route avec ses 48 lacets plutôt que le tunnel de la route moderne.Arrivés à mi-montée, juste après les ruines d'un ancien monastère, plus de bitume. Nous allions devoir nous contenter de graviers sur au moins 80 km avant de retrouver le macadam. Le col de Tende est une montée difficile, peu arborée, donc en plein soleil, et à couper le souffle. À son sommet, une croisée de chemins qui mènent vers des remontées mécaniques, un chalet-restaurant et une enfilade de baraquements autrefois utilisés pour abriter les hommes qui défendaient ce point stratégique. En contrebas derrière nous, la France, et en contrebas devant nous, l'Italie. Perchée entre les deux pays, une autre route du sel savoyarde.Cette via del sale s'étire en pleine nature. Ces magnifiques parages étaient autrefois truffés de bandits et autres brigands désireux de soulager les commerçants de leur précieux chargement. À cette occasion, nous n'y avons rencontré personne. Au sommet des montagnes, rien d'autre qu'une route minutieusement sinueuse, ondulant d'un col à l'autre sans pratiquement jamais descendre en dessous de 2 000 m d'altitude. Nous avons tout de même croisé un ou deux 4x4 surmontés de leurs roues de secours sur le toit. Rien d'autre. Au fur et à mesure que la lumière diminuait sur ce paysage montagneux désolé, balayé par un vent froid qui chahutait les nuages désespérément accrochés aux pics déjà sombres, nous avions du mal à imaginer que ces chemins étaient autrefois les routes les plus praticables pour le commerce.Une piste est habituellement un chemin agréable qui nous permet de suivre les traces de nos ancêtres, la promesse d'une destination attendue. Un chemin est comme une histoire avec un début, un milieu et une fin. Mais celui-ci semblait si difficile... Si indistinct et compliqué à suivre : il fallait que le sel se vende à prix d'or pour accepter de le porter dans ces contrées! Nous avons grimpé et encore grimpé, toute la journée. L'herbe marron, desséchée, le sol rocailleux, les ombres qui s'allongeaient au fur et à mesure. Pas besoin de beaucoup d'imagination pour voir cette terre peuplée de contrebandiers et de bandits de grands chemins. Et puis la nuit est tombée. Nous avons atteint il rifugio ou grimpeurs, pilotes, motoristes et forestiers viennent passer la nuit. Prosciutto, risotto, carne, un peu de chaleur humaine, et enfin la chaleur d'un lit. Encore un casse-croûte pour entamer cette seconde journée, avant de descendre la via del sale vers la mer.Ce tronçon était plus facile, au milieu des bois qui appartenaient, autrefois, au premier roi moderne d'Italie, Victor-Emmanuel II. C'est sa famille qui construisit ce chemin, ses descendants qui l'entretinrent, notamment pour le passage des troupes qui occupaient les forteresses perchées sur ces corniches qui dominent la frontière. Pour nous, le moment était venu de choisir notre camp. Nous avons opté pour la France, et donc monté le Passo di Tanarello avant d'entamer la longue descente de retour à la vallée d'où nous étions partis. On ne roule pas toujours pour les même raisons : parfois pour les sensations, d'autres pour s'entraîner, parfois pour prendre le temps de réfléchir ou au contraire se vider la tête... Mais la constante reste la découverte de ce qui se cache derrière le prochain virage ou derrière la colline. Et puis, en de plus rares occasions, notre monture est comme une machine à voyager dans le temps qui nous permet de creuser sous la modernité présente pour trouver les strates des paysages passés. Il est sain de se demander, au moins de temps à autre, pourquoi le chemin que nous empruntons est là, qui l'a construit et pourquoi. Sinon, autant faire du vélo d'appartement devant sa fenêtre ! Mais où serait le charme alors ?!RIDERS' NOTESRoute Via del Sale For this section of the Salt Road, take a car or train to Tende village where you can either ride the route clockwise by starting with the Col de Tende or anti-clockwise by climbing up from La Brigue Photography: Matt Wragg // Words: Max LeonardRifugio Don Barbera 2079m, Briga Alta, Province of Cuneo, Italy

The Transam Bike Race: Across the great divide Last year, during the Transcontinental Bike Race, Rebecca Harrison became known to us as 'The Girl In The Georgette' when we noticed her sleeping on the floor in one of our signature merino jerseys. This year Rebecca has been ultra-adventuring under her own steam once again, traversing the land of the free during the TransAM Bike Race. Discover her whys and wherefores of life on the long-distance road.I’m in my cycling bubble – that layer of insulation from the real world where all that matters is pedaling, eating and sleeping. Post-TransAm I decided to ride 120 miles out to Ocean City for recovery – because I’m also in my cycling groove after just under 29 days of non-stop cycling. 

Because riding is my happy place. And it seemed like the easiest way to get two people plus two bikes to the beach and reflect on what we'd just achieved… It’s called the TransAm Bike Race. But I was only ever racing myself hoping to get to the finish and maybe even improve on my performance from last year’s TCR. There are no prizes in this race. Everyone is 'racing' for their own sense of achievement. Preparation? We paid our money and then life got in the way of serious training. But with ultra-distance I guess this is an important point – the training required is less than you would expect. Luck and stubbornness are as important as saddle time. However…. It turns out the Transam is 4,300 miles- almost double the length of the TCR! I consoled myself with the thought that at 51,000m there was only marginally more climbing. It was basically TCR plus 1,900 flat miles…. I also discovered you could choose to ride either west to east or east to west. There was a whisper that the prevailing winds blew towards the east and I would take any chance of a tail wind across the flat plains!Plus, early morning is my favourite time of day so it made sense to ride into the sunrise.Going to America was not as plain sailing as the TCR (where I finished a night shift, got the train to London and then the Eurostar to Belguim) Extra stress of packing lists and baggage handlers taking care of my bike was dissolved by the time we were using the fantastic bike assembly area at Portland airport, complete with tools, track pump and bike stand. It truly is a bike-friendly city. The ‘race’ started at 6am and I was surprised who my nerves kicked in. Ignorance is bliss and with the experience from the TCR I was more aware of what lay ahead on the road. I knew there would be times when I would go hungry and thirsty, times when I wouldn't be able to find anywhere to sleep and times when I didn't think I could continue. You start to wonder “why am I doing this again?”. A reiminder of why came on the first major climb we encountered. McKenzie pass in Central Oregon had only just been snow ploughed a couple of days before which meant it was still closed to cars - a cyclist's playground. It’s an annual occurrence and the lack of cars meant we could savour the scenery. It was a real privilege. Crossing state lines became our new country days from TCR. They were something to look forward to and really made it feel like we were making progress, and sometimes also marked a significant change in the terrain to be tackled. Wyoming state line was situated inside Yellow Stone National Park and that really set the tone for the whole state. Yellow stone was a shock to our British systems - the vastness of it all and supersize everything, from the skyscraping tree line to that constant ‘threat’ of grizzly bears. And of course weather. As we passed from Yellow Stone into Grand Teton National Park we heard a tour guide tell his captive audience that there would only be indoor activities that day. There would be no indoor activities for us as we had the Togwatee Pass penciled in for the afternoon.About seven miles from the top, the weather really closed in. Snow, sleet and howling winds drove us into the the first lodge we found on the descet. It was so comfortable we ended up having mammoth 12 hours of sleep. Another rule of ultra cycling - take it while you can. The wind on the flats of Wyoming was punishing – head or cross wind only it seemed. But finally, as happens on these events, things eventually have a way of picking up and turning around. A strong tail wind blew us into an atmospheric arrival at Jeffrey City, an old-purpose mining town, now with around only 50 inhabitants. Our motel had a staff of one – owner, bar man, chef and waiter. Proper mid-American small town obscurity. I can only imagine the proprietor’s surprise when a couple of hours after our departure, one of our fellow riders arrived to refuel and started cursing us, “the Brits”. We eventually bumped into Mike a few days later. During dinner he explained that he'd been hunting us down for five days- not unusual in a race so long. Mike regaled us with stories of repeatedly arriving in towns a couple of hours behind us, looking in creepy churches because that's where the tracker had us staying and scrabbling about in the morning when he saw us leave. We leap frogged each other for the next few days. From talking to other riders it seems this is quite a common phenomenon – across the entire continent riders were either trying to shake off their chasers or reel in those ahead. It’s funny to think of it in isolation as the rest of the American population goes about it’s business. Janie Hayes, the eventual winner of the womens’ category was right when she told me on the start line that the TransAm saves the best till last. Crossing the state line into Missouri all of a sudden we had greenery and turns in the road. A welcome change after 500 miles of Kansas’s straight tarmac- great for getting big miles done but I felt every single mile. We were soon into the Ozark mountain range- a luscious humid place reminiscent of the rainforest. Humidity, rolling hills, sweat, and using every gear available. It was intense. Ice cream and cold drinks were our only saviours.The last mountain range we passed through were the Appalachians. At this stage you think the major climbing was left behind in Colorardo. The Appalachians stay below 400m in height so they don't appear too aggressive on the profile but you sure do bounce up and down inside that 400m! As well as strong gradients, we met dense fog. Out of that fog, came a ‘trail angel’ who asked us if we knew about the ‘cookie lady’s house’. Turns out the cookie lady had, since the 70s, noticed tired cyclists slogging up the steep hill outside her house and decided to feed them cookies. When she died in the 90s she left her house to the Transamerica bicycle trail and it has become a cyclist's haven- they even still have cookies!! It was a true American cycling dream and an example again of the human kindess that surprises you around every corneer – the unidentified client who paid our breakfast bill, the dot-watchers who guided us into the local fire station for shelter and plying us with British beers, the lady in Yorktown handing riders cold drinks as they passed, the cyclists who rode beside us for sections at a time. Arriving at the columns in Yorktown, the finish line of the Transam, I felt a mixture of emotions - happiness and relief but also an overwhelming sense of emptiness. This race was not about reaching the final destination but the journey I'd taken to get there, the amazing people I'd met along the way, the sights of “real” America and everything I'd learnt about myself. I guess that's the reason for the “post-race blues” and why so many people keep coming back for more… I thought back to the start line, where Nathan Jones the race organiser said that no one really understands what you're doing- not your family and not your friends. But I disagree. Anyone who has wanted to quit something, been so close to giving up but instead finished, not for prizes or medals but purely for their own personal satisfaction, then they will understand why we do what we do. I knew that if I had scratched from the race the short term discomfort I was in would be over but the long term pain of quitting wouldn't leave me until I had come back another time and finished this race. So chapeau to all my fellow racers who completed the Transam and to those who didn't finish good luck for future attempts. If you are considering an ultra-distance event but are yet to commit, I say this - entering is by far the hardest part.

Inca divide demands They have been named 'Chasquis' after the messengers that formed the running communication system of the Inca Empire. Ten days ago 13 riders, sporting our Audax Monique Jersey , set out from Quito in Ecuador with the objective of riding self-supported to Cuzco in Peru. The first edition of Inca Divide is a beta test of a different kind, so it's time to check in on those who checked out. Such a huge task has to be broken down into smaller parts. The first objective was Checkpoint 1 in Vilcabamba. It might be expected that with 3,500kms and 63,500m of climbing, the riders would ease into the flow of the race gently. But as all those who have done so will testify, put a number on and immediately logic is skewed. The pack split early as the all-important feature of self-supported ultra distance racing emerged – route planning. A front group comprised of Marcel Esser (Netherlands), Rodney Soncco (Peru) and Gustavo Breitenbucher (Argentina) took the main road over the mountains. Alex Wall (England) and Andreas Fabricius (Sweden) decided to take the ‘flatter’ gravel and mud roads of the Amazonian forest. A dangerous tactic given the unpredictable Ecuadoarian weather. The road choice won out with Marcel Esser, aka “The Pace Car”, the first to have his survival map stamped at CP1. Meanwhile Alex Wall admitted to crying at one point on a freezing descent with broken brakes and Jean-Luc Moncassin (France) had a bad fall caused by a collision with a stray dog. The distance covered by the leaders was between 700 and 800 km with more than 15,500m of elevation gain. Not your average cycling holiday. The key to ultra racing (so they say) is to just keep on keeping on, clocking the clicks like a metronome. Gustavo Breitenbucher had hit out early, surprising everyone by rising at 1am on the third day to streak into the lead. Unfortunately for him his knees were not as strong as his head or his heart and he had to ‘scratch’ from the race the following day as the relentless climbing became too much. And he was not alone - the weak point in Alex Wall's legs also gave way. The warning signs are there. With the group stretched between CP1 and CP2 the leaders crossed the border into Peru but cracks are beginning to appear. The stunning scenery helps as the riders battle the old unpaved Incan road network. But even as the comfort of civilisation warms hearts and heals doubting heads, this race punishes again with it's unrelenting requirement to climb. Even out of the city. With 2,000kms covered there are still 1,500kms remaining for the leaders (who are effectively 3 days and 300 to 500kms ahead of the other riders). This might be cycling voyeurism or inspiration. It depends entirely on your viewpoint. Either way, stay tuned to the dots as the make their way south. It's like the Running Man or the Hunger Games (depending on your age) on bikes.

Inca divide demands They have been named 'Chasquis' after the messengers that formed the running communication system of the Inca Empire. Ten days ago 13 riders, sporting our Audax Monique Jersey , set out from Quito in Ecuador with the objective of riding self-supported to Cuzco in Peru. The first edition of Inca Divide is a beta test of a different kind, so it's time to check in on those who checked out.Such a huge task has to be broken down into smaller parts. The first objective was Checkpoint 1 in Vilcabamba. It might be expected that with 3,500kms and 63,500m of climbing, the riders would ease into the flow of the race gently. But as all those who have done so will testify, put a number on and immediately logic is skewed. The pack split early as the all-important feature of self-supported ultra distance racing emerged – route planning. A front group comprised of Marcel Esser (Netherlands), Rodney Soncco (Peru) and Gustavo Breitenbucher (Argentina) took the main road over the mountains.Alex Wall (England) and Andreas Fabricius (Sweden) decided to take the ‘flatter’ gravel and mud roads of the Amazonian forest. A dangerous tactic given the unpredictable Ecuadoarian weather. The road choice won out with Marcel Esser, aka “The Pace Car”, the first to have his survival map stamped at CP1. Meanwhile Alex Wall admitted to crying at one point on a freezing descent with broken brakes and Jean-Luc Moncassin (France) had a bad fall caused by a collision with a stray dog. The distance covered by the leaders was between 700 and 800 km with more than 15,500m of elevation gain. Not your average cycling holiday.The key to ultra racing (so they say) is to just keep on keeping on, clocking the clicks like a metronome. Gustavo Breitenbucher had hit out early, surprising everyone by rising at 1am on the third day to streak into the lead. Unfortunately for him his knees were not as strong as his head or his heart and he had to ‘scratch’ from the race the following day as the relentless climbing became too much. And he was not alone - the weak point in Alex Wall's legs also gave way. The warning signs are there. With the group stretched between CP1 and CP2 the leaders crossed the border into Peru but cracks are beginning to appear. The stunning scenery helps as the riders battle the old unpaved Incan road network.But even as the comfort of civilisation warms hearts and heals doubting heads, this race punishes again with it's unrelenting requirement to climb. Even out of the city. With 2,000kms covered there are still 1,500kms remaining for the leaders (who are effectively 3 days and 300 to 500kms ahead of the other riders). This might be cycling voyeurism or inspiration. It depends entirely on your viewpoint. Either way, stay tuned to the dots as the make their way south. It's like the Running Man or the Hunger Games (depending on your age) on bikes.