コッペンベルグ：世界の山々#9 震える脚、ブラックフライデーの買い物バッグのように重い腕、息を吸うと火を飲み込んでいるような感覚があり、石が転がる道は困難極まりありません。吐きそうなほどの疲労感を感じている最中、車にはねられました。 1987年のthe Ronde van Vlaanderen （フランダースツアー）中にコッペンベルグで若いデンマーク人ライダー、Jesper Skibbyの身に起こったことです。限界に達し、Skibbyは石の多いロード走行を困難に感じていました。その時、レースディレクターの車に轢かれたのです。バイクも巻き込まれたため、彼のレースはそこで終わりました。事故後、長年の間クライムはレースから削除されていました。「Meldenの凸凹」として知られるコッペンベルグは険しく、スポーツの伝説的なライダーにも容赦ありません。ベルギー出身の有名なライダーEddy Merckxが、「バイクを肩に担いでハシゴを登るようなものだ」と言ったことがあります。 1976年にRonde van Vlaanderenが紹介されて以来、山頂までバイクを降りずに進めたのは5名のライダーのみでした。非常に優れたライダーであっても歩いて登るほかありませんでした。「フランドル拷問室」のあだ名はここで生まれました。ベルギーのフランドル、アルデンヌ地方中心アウデナールデ付近の村Meldenにコッペンベルグはあります。海面から64メートルほど上にあるたった682メートルの道ですが、場所によっては21%勾配を含みます。 ロードは非常に狭く、66,240個の丸石が2,760列に並び、勾配の急な部分には平均1列に24石が配置されています。シャープな石のインパクトは走行のタイミングを狂わせ、クライム走行を厳しいものとします。2002年にコッペンベルグは、整備された後でフランダースツアーに再び加えられました。セキュリティも整備し、丸石を再度配置し、道の幅も多少広くなりました。 コッペンベルグは、フランダースツアーのアイコニックでハードなクライムであることは間違いありません。是非制覇して見てください。走行後には有名なベルギービールがアウデナールデにあるフランダースツアービジターセンターで迎えてくれます。 コッペンベルグを制覇したいと思うライダーや北へと無限な走行を行いたいと思う人には、フランダースでのサイクリングをお勧めします。 世界の山々シリーズで、世界中のアイコニックなクライムについてお読みください。 バッジを獲得する STRAVAを使用する 脚注：: 写真 Jered & Ashley Gruber / 本文 Dries Verclyte of Cyclinginflanders.cc

Wuling: Montagnes du monde #8 Is it the spiritual home of the KOM? Since 2012 climbers both amateur and professional have been flocking to Taiwan to tame the beast that is Wuling. Yet many have not even heard of the far eastern mountain. The statistics of this climb speak for itself; 55km long, with a total ascent of 2,825m up to the dizzying heights of 3,275m. The average gradient may be only just over 5% but on a mountain of this scale, you know that doesn't mean every kilometre is a piece of cake.The Taiwan KOM Challenge first took place in 2012. It covers 105km, a relatively short distance, but it goes from 0 to 3,275m in one hit. In 2017, as if winning the Giro d'Italia was not enough, Vincenzo Nibali, finished off his season travelling east and setting the fastest time up the mountain in 2hrs 12 min and 48 seconds.On an island that equals only 5.5% of France's landmass, movement of the tectonic plates created this natural high mountain barrier. Wuling Pass is located in the center of Taiwan and is reached via the road that connects the west and the east of the island, in the process becoming the highest paved road in the entire South East Asia region. The first 20km of the route up the western side of the pass has an average gradient of 6.3%. That may sound a lot but in relative terms it is more of a warm up before the road ramps up and the oxygen supply goes down.Along the way, you will discover various farms weaved into the landscape, notably would be peach and passion fruit farms. If the riders are not here for challenge, we suggest a pit stop to taste the sweet fruits and not let this trip go to waste. Next up along the route is a memorial to the island people who fought against the Japanese occupation of Taiwan, culminating in the famous Wushe Incident of 1930 in which hundreds of the indigenous people died. The movie adaptation of this story, Seediq Bale, signifies bravery and hope against oppression - living on this mountain makes stern people.Arriving at 2,200m, you will be greeted by the immensely beautiful green pastures, of QingJing (translated as Peaceful State). Here you will find the highest 7-Eleven convenience store (remember that pro team?) in Taiwan and it is a good idea to take a pit stop and re-fuel because the real climbing is about to begin. From this point forth, the average gradient is between 10%-15%. Not only do riders have to deal with climb, but more importantly, pushing forward under the thinning air. The final 2.2km is like the horizon embedded within mountains; known to experienced cyclists as 'The Road to Heaven'. It is beautiful to see but extremely difficult to complete. The last stretch of road looks levelled, but in reality, it is an average of 9%. After 50km of climbing, this final leg of the journey is a true challenge to riders mentally and physically. The scenery at the arrival point is a virtual green carpet that covers the mountainous landscape. The landscape is transformed into a white world when it snows, earning an elegant description of 'Silver Saddle'. On a clear night, the Southern Cross constellation can be visible to the naked eye, a perfect spot to appreciate majestic snowy scenery, sunrise and rolling seas of cloud. Wuling Pass is the ultimate bucket list for cyclists visiting Taiwan.Read more about iconic climbs around the world in our Montagnes du Monde series. CLAIM THE BADGE VIA STRAVA Text & Photos by Café du Cycliste retail partner Ares Studio, Taiwan.

The Wuling climbing club Here at Café du Cycliste we have a tradition of riding our highest mountain, the Bonette, every year. More than halfway around the world our retail partners, Ares Studio, have a similar habit. And in terms of pure elevation, they win. Their mountain is higher, and certainly more than high enough for pretty much every cyclist on the planet.It is, of course, Wuling Pass. It looms near the centre of the island taunting riders each year to take on the 55km challenge. At Ares a group of friends and customers has formed and each year they come together to conquer Wuling. SZ Chen and Stephen Chen are an extreme example. Last year they rode through torrential rain to reach the summit for the first time. This year they had their first baby daughter in June but despite that life-changing event, they couldn't say no to another day on Wuling's slopes.At the other end of the scale, Maggie Tai and Hsien-Chin Chiu have done the parenting but not the mountain. With the freedom of a daughter fresh from university and starting her own career, Maggie Tai and Hsien-Chin find themselves with time to cycle together. Both in misty rose Fleurettes, bien sûr. Maggie is new to cycling so Wuling is a baptism of fire.The benefit of this group is the shared experience. Sure, everyone has different levels but that means advice can be shared by the more experienced climbers before each rider finds their place on the road, which also happens to allow space to enjoy the sunshine and mountain vistas.And as things get above 2,000m, the riders exit from the trees and enter into what is known locally as the 'road to heaven'. It's the final 10km stretch when legs are already showing signs of cramping from the previous 45km of uphill. The gradient increases and the oxygen thins. A bit like Ventoux, in the last 5km they have a view of the summit to tease out the final effort. Cloud swirls over the top of the mountain to make things more challenging. Friends, Jasper Huang and Stone Laio encourage each other to the top.Everybody in the group, without exception, makes it. SZ Chen was solo on the 'road to heaven' but she was not alone. She carried the baby-grow of their new-born daughter to motivate her along the way. The baby-grow is adorned with a print of a Wuling emblem made by Ares Studio and is both testament to the impact of this mountain on the Taiwanese people and a suggestion that they will be cycling it for generations to come.Photography : Long Chang for Ares Studio, Taiwan.

TCR checkmate Dismantle, bubble wrap, tape, take the TGV. Unpack, build, check and double-check, take a regional train. Here we are. The start line of the TCR. If you are keen, it’s relatively easy to get to the start line. But then there’s the other line. The ‘F’ one. I’ve been waiting months for this moment. To find old friends at the start, and make new ones too making jokes and playing down what lies ahead. Being the second time that I find myself at the start of the Transcontinental Race everything is more fluid, the routine is more familiar. I'm serene, I have a goal, a vision, a single focus. The finish line.Speeches, pats on the back, encouragement and embraces amongst competitors Adrenaline mixes with excited anxiety in a surreal scene when night falls, the church clock tower indicates 22h, some shouts of the Town Crier, the bell rings and the parade lap begins. First a ceremonial ascent of the Muur together as a peloton, followed by a tour of the city, returning to the square. Then the second ascent of the Muur, the real start, the torches, even more screams, a right turn and into the dark nothingness... Conversation peters out and the sound of freewheels take over. The silhouettes of other riders are already beginning to stretch themselves out on their aero bars. Very quickly everyone takes their place and their own pace. The first big junctions see the peloton begin to gradually divide, scatter, and find their own path to CP1.Me? As the hours pass, the more I find myself alone. The excitement of the departure falls, the early morning rises and before long the first signs of fatigue announce themselves only to be denied and ignored. It has started. The first two check points are a stretched-out time trial. Measured effort over distance mixed with a calculated strategy of road and elevation choices. The TCR really is an ultra game of chess. And the first move? Leave Belgium by the north of France, go to Strasbourg, cross Germany to summit the first ‘real Col’, descend to Switzerland and pass in Austria. The cycling pawns move across borders and countries as if they were checkers on a great chess board painted across Europe. After validation at CP1, I rail down the serpentine road that starts the journey to CP2. For this second leg I add the reward of a first hotel before more border hopping. I enter the Tyrol whilst saying hello to Italy, then return to Austria before crossing the Slovenian border. I pass an abandoned mining town of the Eastern block and attack the ascension of Mangart Sedlo, one of the only obligatory parts of the course, before descending to get the second stamp on the brevet card. Summiting Mangart Sedlo and knowing I would make CP2 in good time was a confidence boost for me. Last year I tasted failure. On the TCR failure doesn’t normally come in an instant. The glitches follow one another, the delays accumulate, the bad calculations and errors in route planning come on the scene and the morale gradually declines as the innumerable excuses increase in number. Twelve months earlier I scratched at CP3. This year was very different, and in a good way. The memories flood back to me on top of Magnart Seldo and begin to take more out of me than the climb itself. I spot a quiet place in the grass above the road. I have not slept since my hotel two days before and tell myself that it is a good place to stop and enjoy this moment. Here, an intense emotion invades me. I understood a language without words that tells me that everything is fine, that everything will be fine, that nothing would prevent me from reaching the finish. The dice were thrown and the anticipation of a successful completion of the race upsets me. Tears roll down my face, those of revenge. Not on the race, she was far from over, but on life, on bad luck. Last year’s scratch wasn’t just because of in-race events but the race itself symbolised the struggle of life and finishing it is a reassurance of my ability to endure tougher obstacles.It sounds rather easy, but once it’s done and you zoom out on the map the plan looks rather simple; cross the Alps. To CP2 was 1250 km and 12000 m. D + in four days and fifteen hours. The details and the memories of what are in between the checkpoints are only for the riders. They can’t take that away from us. The next goal is 800 km, all the way to the north. While many participants embarked on a new Alpine crossing, I decided to go back bypassing the mountains and cross Vienna because I’d never been there and wanted to see it. A bit of accelerated tourism is also part of the adventure. It is with undisguised happiness that I leave the humidity of the mountains to find a hot but dry climate, with the promise of new borders, passing into the Czech Republic on smaller roads for a brief visit to Poland and CP3.Arrivals at checkpoints have this funny funnel effect. Whatever the route chosen by the participants, paths converge at the checkpoints and reunions take place. It’s an opportunity to meet new friends too. When I arrive, I announce to the few participants who surround me that it's my birthday, and they make me feel good with warm words. It is a privileged moment to celebrate a happy day at the heart of the adventure of a lifetime. After the ‘birthday party,’ things begin to get serious. The TCR has that power to turn up the heat, just when you think you've been through the worst. The wind is rising, and as usual, not in a good way. My route takes me down the Czech Republic, a passage into Slovakia by Bratislava. Then a new crossing to Hungary, to finally reach the unknown: the Balkans and my entry into Bosnia.The road that was supposed to run very smooth turns out to be much more complicated, the wind slows down the predicted progress and the smallest problems, bumps and lumps become exhausting. All of a sudden the trucks are more threatening and the first packs of stray dogs are also coming into action earlier than expected. So from the south of Hungary the TCR reminds me that everything up until this point was just a training. In the Balkans everything changes. Do not expect the road to be where your Wahoo GPS says it is. The scars of war are still present and sometimes you will find only the remains of a bridge where once a small road existed. Shops are rare, the atmosphere is harsher, the mountains take on a different shape and the humidity returns . Paying can also be a problem, as this is the world of cash with no place for plastic cards. And of course each country has its own currency, otherwise it would be too easy. Approaching and passing Sarajevo I begin to wonder if it is ignorant or indecent to pass through places with such a heavy past and not acknowledge it. Or should we flash by them just like everywhere else. Nevertheless, it's euphoria. CP4 is ticked off after 12 days and 21 hours and now I can enter the Hell of the Balkans. The last part is like free falling. The further you go south, the more intense everything becomes. The traffic is heavier, the dogs more threatening, finding food is more complicated and the weather is hotter. I lack the experience required to find the good road choices, anticipate currency changes, identify the right places to buy food or have wifi network to take stock and make informed decisions. When fitness is very good but the kilometres tick by slowly by sheer 'fact of the road', my morale takes a hit. It is at this moment that one must remain calm and accept and roll with the surprises found around the corner, owing to your own bad choices. It does not matter if the planned 50km of smooth road turns into a cobblestone yard, if the city where you expected to eat does not offer any service apart from a roadside bar serving only drinks, if the long valley road planned towards the Greek border proves to be non-existent.Now the game of chess it not just physical, it is also mental. It’s a question of maintenance and the management of fatigue. Here, my girlfriend did a fantastic job. If on paper the Transcontinental Race is a solo race, it’s a fact that a large part of the participants have what is called a 'dot watcher' - someone who will follow more assiduously than your friends, who will be a bit like your guardian angel 24/7. They will also be your mental coach, helping you stay focussed on the race. In my case it was my girlfriend who had already taken the game on last year. Knowing me perfectly, she has always been able to find the right formulas to revive me or to rationalise a situation. What does it matter, behind the chaos of the cities, ubiquitous Albanian Mercedes, the dirt of the streets, and all the remains. If the mass effect might be repulsive to some, smaller details and features are touching, warm, hospitable and the countryside is immense, beautiful and simple. The day is not quite up in Kodovjat, where I slept two hours on a café terrace thanks to the benevolence of the owner. I still have 295 km and 4000 m. from D + to the finish line, and it's the day of the official 'closure' of the checkpoint. The hours pass, my doubts about my arrival time disappear, nothing matters. I’ll arrive, and I'll arrive tonight. When we cross the Greek border, everything is left to play for. But nothing can stop you anymore. Fatigue, last jokes from the stray dogs or closed shops because you had the good idea to arrive during a national holiday? These are simply minor details compared to all that is left behind. I arrive. Exhausted, on a cloud, dodging the last problems, a last phone call to Alain who confirms that beers and food await me. I arrive. 3968 km, 33725 m. D +, 17 days across Europe. It is August 15 and Meteora is revenged.

Café du Catskills Le Week-End Prolongé : Add an extra day (or two), breathing room to find riding space somewhere special. Or simply somewhere simple. Get up, kit on, ride out kind of trips. Cycling for the soul. Stephanie had never seen a firefly before, apparently. If that’s not a good reason to escape the city, what is?Hailing from the Pacific Northwest but now a full time NYC resident, she met Lucia and Ted when her competitive spirit led her to the racing scene. Lucia and Ted are board members of the Century Road Club Association, and they help make sure the NYC cycling community has a full calendar of events to burn off all those miles and watts banked by laps of Prospect Park and repeated River Road rides. Ted describes the NYC cycling scene succinctly; ‘race, race, race’. Lucia sees it as ‘diverse, passionate and defiant’. Steph agrees on the diversity, saying there is much more representation compared to the rest of the white male dominated world of cycling. They all agree, however, that the best thing about NYC riding is the community. No matter what type of cyclist you are, you will find your tribe. And the truth is, these days, people often float between the packs – one day urban masher, next day crit racer and, increasingly, wayward weekend adventurer.     Enter the Catskills. When people hear of the Catskills they usually think of Woodstock. Perhaps you’ve heard of that small music festival that happened back in 1969. The actual festival took place in the town of Bethel but that’s another story. Head another 60 miles further north west of Bethel and you’ll reach the small town of Bovina. The clue is in the name – this is remote, rolling countryside. ‘Farmland for days’ as Steph said. And Bovina is indeed bovine, with our beefy friends literally everywhere, outnumbering humans and profiting from the great outdoors just as we were about to.Dissecting the green spaces are smooth paved rollercoaster roads and shooting off to criss-cross the fields and dive into the forests are crisp gravel doubletracks, or ‘groads’ as they are known in these parts. A friend, Nik, had recently built a cabin on top of Bramley Mountain, just north of Bovina's centre, and had offered it up as a ride base for the weekend. “Magical” is how he described it, which is certainly the case for Steph who arrives for the start of the weekend just as the burnt red sun rests on the horizon. With hammocks slung under the awning of the cabin, focus turns to the riding, and more particularly, to the forecast. Around the campfire, comparing weather reports reveals that rain would be the theme for the weekend. But what becomes apparent amongst the group is that competitive racing backgrounds breed tenacity. No-one will let a little water get in the way of this city escape – there is too much on offer right outside the front door, including the ridiculously steep ‘groad’ driveway leading to it. Sunset was not followed by sunrise, as a blanket of fog seemed to stop the big yellow ball getting out of bed. Ted helped lift any mental fog with some AeroPress coffee and wheels were turning in no time. A big day on the saddle was planned – a short distance at 48 miles but 5,800 ft. of climbing, most of which would be on dirt roads. At least that’s what was hoped for. Google street view hasn’t made it out this far west so a bit of guesswork was involved. But the rain…..A couple of miles in and the trio were completely soaked and freezing - wishing for that heatwave they’d gladly left behind in the city. Logic prevailed, and shelter was sought. The good thing is low density does not mean fewer options. The Catskills have been a NYC escape destination for over half a century and it has the culture and the cuisine to show for it. As evidenced by Russell’s General Store - a Bovina staple since it opened back in 1919.A second round of coffee and a proper big breakfast and things risked getting too comfortable. After a couple of hours the downpour had reduced itself to constant drizzle so there was no option but to continue even if bib shorts were still on the damp side. The trio crawling out from the café like the little orange newts that Lucia found adventuring out of the grass and onto the road. Steph can add a new species to her weekend of wildlife discoveries. Another discovery was the dirt. Half way round the route and faces are speckled with mud and backs stained from the wet unpaved roads. It’s not just kit and bikes that suffer – the soft red clay mud requires a lot of power to make progress. The topography might be rolling, but like the Ardennes or the Strada Bianche, that also means some steep ramps are hidden in the folds. The second half of the ride was more mud slinging than gravel grinding. But suddenly – finally - the sun came out, just in time for the planned stop at Wayside Cider to stay true to the farmland theme. With craft brews and artisanal food on offer, the five mile climb back up Bramley Mountain to the cabin was always going to be the hardest part of the day’s pedalling.Day one had been due south, so obviously day two was a loop to discover what lay in the opposite direction. The sun was out and the weather was looking promising. The thought of riding in dry kits got everyone excited. However, dark clouds suddenly appeared as soon as the descent down Bramley was done. A light drizzle then turned into a downpour It was time to talk tactics on how to endure the weather. Riding on Highway 10, the discussion focused on whether the paved road or the nearby rail trail was the better option. The debate was settled by a German Shepherd. Clearly feeling his farm was at threat by three non-bovine beings, he charged the group. A sprint ensued, and thankfully the dog gave up first.The effort helped open up the legs for the cyclocross style ride over the rutted rail trail. More mud required more power and concentration to pick a line. Which meant the weather became a secondary concern. The benefits of all road riding are many. And the scenic trail arrived back at the bottom of Bramley, of course, as soon the sun came out to shine on the last climb of the weekend. The drive home to the city was broken up by a visit to the famous Phoenica Diner, whose owners transplanted themselves into the natural beauty and nearer to the great ingredient box of the Catskills back in the 80s. That raised the question about moving from the city to the wide open spaces. The consensus is the trio could never leave their beloved NYC. Lucia gets her energy from the city, and tomorrow morning it’s going to be needed – being wet for almost 48hours somehow saps a lot of energy. But rain and mud aside, Nik was absolutely right. Bovina is quite a magical place.

Honeymooning on the Transatlantic Way We, Becci and Al, take thee transatlantic way, to be our long-distance cycling honeymoon... Venue. Tick. Band. Tick. Dress. Tick. Now for the most exciting part of wedding planning - where to go on honeymoon. After completing the Transcontinental Bike Race (TCR) in 2016 and the TransAmerica Bike Race (TransAm) in 2017 we wanted something a little more... active once the knot was tied. A small amount of route planning revealed that we'd be swapping the honeymoon suite for 2255km in the saddle around the west coast of Ireland on the TransAtlantic Way (TAW). For us it was the perfect escape. Focusing on the primal needs of eating, sleeping and riding for 12-16 hours a day provided the ideal post-wedding wind down. And after all, nothing says romance quite like eating sausage rolls on the side of the road followed by a 250km bike ride in the rain. FROM THIS DAY FORWARD, AND AROUND, AND OUT AND BACK...... The TAW spans two countries on one island - the Republic of Ireland ("the South") and Northern Ireland ("the North"). Start in Dublin, finish in Cork - it looked pretty close on the map, a mere 280km according to Google... so where was that other 2000km coming from? On closer inspection, we would actually start by heading north to find the Atlantic, the complete opposite direction of our final destination. The first checkpoint was in Derry before following pretty much every single inch of coastline on Ireland's west side - around all of the peninsulas as well as out and back to every headland. From the most northerly and to the most southwesterly point of Ireland with the sea being the ever-present 'third wheel' on our honeymoon adventure. The most northerly point of Ireland was a loop around Malin Head in Donegal - a spectacular piece of coastline with some of the most fantastic views on near-deserted roads. The dramatic descents and tough climbs out of the bays were worth every watt of effort. There were times that riding this convoluted route became quite psychologically tough... especially when seeing a countdown for Tra Li on a particularly wet and windy day - a town we’d stayed in over 200km of riding ago, and yet we were headed straight back. The stunning coastline kept us focused and enjoying the ride, along with the rowdy media crew. Just when we started to think we were out there on our own someone would beep their horn and put their head out of the window to make sure we were ok. TO HAVE AND TO HOLD, TO FOLLOW THE WHEEL..... We often get asked “how is it riding together?”, “it must make it easier having someone to ride with?”, “do you argue?”. Riding as a pair has positives and negatives. It’s great to have someone to keep you motivated and tuck in behind when you’re struggling, like on the penultimate day when I woke up with legs of lead. I took some pain killers, ate a massive breakfast, had a coffee, listened to music, had some sugar, another coffee... but nothing made it better. I continued to grind, locked in my own battle even with Al's wheel to sit on. I know Al could have quite easily zipped off and made much more progress that day than we did - but being a pair we stuck together. It can be difficult when your good days and bad days don’t align. For the most part though we are in sync and it’s great having someone else to share all of these moments with and to reminisce together afterwards about the parts of the adventure no one else can understand. In sickness and in health, in form and out of form.....THROUGH SUNSHINE AND HAILSTORMS..... We started the ride in beautiful clear blue skies and gentle winds. It was glorious - riding late into the summer evening, watching the sunset and soaking in the scenery. One of these evenings we rode through Glenveagh national park – epic scenery, no cars, sun starting to set, when I saw we were taking a right turn off-piste down a gravel descent- I was glad it was sunset rather than nightfall! With the extra weight from my bike packs though I was like a tank – so sturdy – I’ve never ridden so quickly on gravel. That night we rode until midnight under the romantic light of the stars. Then storm Hector hit early Wednesday morning- we awoke to drizzling rain, feeling fatigued and drained from 6 days already in the saddle. We had a short disco nap in an Audax restaurant (petrol station) before continuing as the rain became torrential and the winds started to howl. It was pretty miserable riding made so much better by our shared suffering and the knowledge that we weren’t alone. That evening we took shelter early with the hope that tomorrow would be kinder. The dregs of the storm continued into the following morning. Our spirits were soggy and I wasn’t sure how much more pruned fingers and toes I could take. Feet frozen, head down to avoid being blinded by the rain we continued to ride. After a 6am start we rode over the Gap of Dunloe, a stunning mountain pass taking you up along single track roads through a luscious green scenery past a lake and through the jagged rocks at the tops. We were greated by a rainbow arching over the road. The rewards from these long distance rides cannot always be put into words - but in that moment we were glad we had gotten up that morning, glad we had ridden so far the day before, because in what other circumstances would we have been up there at dawn in the rain. It is these moments I cling to, remembering that nothing lasts forever. Plus, of course the double breakfast we feasted on 80km later.TILL CLIMBING DO US PART..... The TAW didn’t have any great alpine passes like in the TCR or any long drags up to 3500m such as in the TransAm, however it is interspersed with some beautiful mountain roads. In order to honor Mike Hall’s memory, long distance cycling legend who was tragically killed during last year’s Indian Pacific Wheel Race, the organisers added in a climbing challenge to recognise the fastest rider up each of the ascents. The most memorable climb was the Gap of Mamore in Donegal. You can see this beast ascending tightly up into the sky as you approach. At only 2km in length it makes up for its short distance in gradient maxing out at 22% in parts, explaining why the road up was littered with cyclists pushing their laden bikes. At the top we had an enthusiastic greeting from one of the local cycling club’s presidents who had been trying to catch as many riders as possible - he informed me that all of the women he had seen were crushing the men up this climb! There were around 15 female riders at the start line out of 160 so we were definitely in the minority… Hopefully as cycling sheds its traditional male-dominated image we will see more and more women lining up to take on these epic rides.AN EXTRA VOW.... Getting to the finish was a mixed bag- exultation to have finished in just over 9 days averaging over 150 miles per day... excitement to catch up with all the other riders we had come across on the road… sadness that it was all over and I wouldn’t be riding my steel pony tomorrow. Flash back 2 weeks later, sat in a café eating breakfast whilst simultaneously waving for the bill we looked at each other. “No races next year” we promised each other. Definitely not. They take over your life, there’s no time for relaxation, you feel guilty about any time off the bike and you can’t enjoy your meals. No races next year. As I write, I’m sat in our fancy hotel ordering room service and relaxing… looking up which race to do next.

Where we ride – Global Climbs Explore some of the most celebrated climbs globally. And a few less celebrated but no less good.L'ALPE D'HUEZ ALTITUDE: 1850 M LENGTH: 14.4 KM ASCENT: 1123 M AVERAGE GRADIENT: 9 % MAX GRADIENT: 11.80 % START: LE BOURG D'OISANSVIEW MOREVIEW ROUTEBEAR MOUNTAIN ALTITUDE: 393 M LENGTH: 7.6 KM ASCENT: 387 M AVERAGE GRADIENT: 5 % MAX GRADIENT: 11.50 % START: STONY POINTVIEW MOREVIEW ROUTEKOPPENBERG ALTITUDE: 64 M LENGTH: 0.5 KM ASCENT: 62 M AVERAGE GRADIENT: 12.60 % MAX GRADIENT: 23 % START: OUDENAARDE VIEW MOREVIEW ROUTEMOUNT BALDY ALTITUDE: 1935 M LENGTH: 7.2 KM ASCENT: 628 M AVERAGE GRADIENT: 8.70 % MAX GRADIENT: 14.50 % START: SOUTH ANTELOPE VALLEYVIEW MOREVIEW ROUTEMOUNT HOTHAM ALTITUDE: 1850 M LENGTH: 28.7 KM ASCENT: 1358 M AVERAGE GRADIENT: 4.70 % MAX GRADIENT: 13.40 % START: HARRIETVILLEVIEW ROUTENAMSAN ALTITUDE: 262 M LENGTH: 4.3 KM ASCENT: 213 M AVERAGE GRADIENT: 5 % MAX GRADIENT: 16 % START: TSEUN WANVIEW MOREVIEW ROUTESA CALOBRA ALTITUDE: 682 M LENGTH: 9.5 KM ASCENT: 647 M AVERAGE GRADIENT: 7 % MAX GRADIENT: 16.30 % START: ESCORCAVIEW MOREVIEW ROUTEPASSO DELLO STELVIO ALTITUDE: 2758 M LENGTH: 24 KM ASCENT: 1774 M AVERAGE GRADIENT: 7.4 % MAX GRADIENT: 12.90 % START: LE BOURG D'OISANSVIEW MOREVIEW ROUTETAI MO SHAN ALTITUDE: 930 M LENGTH: 9.8 KM ASCENT: 845 M AVERAGE GRADIENT: 8.60 % MAX GRADIENT: 14.50 % START: TAI MO SHAN ROADVIEW MOREVIEW ROUTECOL DU TOURMALET ALTITUDE: 2115 M LENGTH: 17.1 KM ASCENT: 1210 M AVERAGE GRADIENT: 7.10 % MAX GRADIENT: 20.40 % START: MONGLI SIDEVIEW MOREVIEW ROUTETHE TUMBLE ALTITUDE: 512 M LENGTH: 4.1 KM ASCENT: 347 M AVERAGE GRADIENT: 8.50 % MAX GRADIENT: 12.20 % START: ABERGAVENNYVIEW MOREVIEW ROUTEWULING ALTITUDE: 3275 M LENGTH: 53 KM ASCENT: 2623 M AVERAGE GRADIENT: 5 % MAX GRADIENT: 18.20 % START: PULIVIEW MOREVIEW ROUTE

Col du Tourmalet: Montagnes du monde #7 ‘Vous êtes des assassins! Oui, des assassins!’ It's a famous quote but it bears repeating. And in the context of that quote, the giant silver statue at the Col du Tourmalet erected in memory of Gustave Lapize could almost be interpreted as an apology. Lapize was the first rider over the Col du Tourmalet in 1910 during the Tour's premier adventure above 2,000m. He pushed most of the way up the then gravel chemin and at the top expressed his disgust at the race's organisers. At 2,115m tall and with an introduction like that, Tourmalet is the king of the Pyrenees and the grand-father to most of the other climbs featured in the Tour.Any day between May and October, you’re likely to find small groups of riders surrounding the fountain in Sainte-Marie-de-Campan, filling their bidons in anticipation. Others sit, waiting for the companions they’ve dropped on the descent. Whichever side you choose to attack Tourmalet, you’re likely to be passing through this quaint village at some point. After the snow has been cleared sometime around mid-May, the air is gradually filled with the rhythmic ticking of chains. Then once every year or so the crazy caravan that is the world’s biggest bike race arrives. The sounds of cicadas and bikes are replaced with raucous crowds, waiting to greet the circus performers.Tourmalet is a true cyclist’s climb. It’s steeped in history and whereas many popular cols are often polluted with coaches and sports cars, Tourmalet is relatively quiet. Whilst some sections are tough it rarely touches ten percent but at 19kms it’s long from Luz-Saint-Sauveur. There is a notable difference in road engineering – the accepted knowledge being that the Pyrenees have a different flavour than the Alps. Less hairpins, more changes in gradient, long stretches with daunting views of the task ahead. Perhaps the greatest challenge though, is the weather. Temperatures can reach over 40 degrees on the lower slopes before you escape la chaleur of the valley, yet on the same day it’s been known for hailstones the size of golf balls to start hammering down. It’s that unpredictability that makes for an exciting challenge and dictates whether the fast descent into Sainte-Marie-de-Campan is an enjoyable one or a bitterly cold one.The Tourmalet has featured in la Grande Boucle more than any other climb. For over one hundred years the peloton has passed over its summit. It started with Alphonse Steinè’s famous near-death reconnaissance (despite which he assured Tour founder, Henri Desgrange, that the road was passable) before the first inclusion in the race. Since then many have encountered tribulation on these iconic Pyrenean slopes. In 1913 Eugène Christophe set off for the 326km trek from Bayonne to Luchon, trailing the race leader by a mere five minutes. It was a relatively insubstantial gap for such a monster stage that took riders along the what is now known as the Route des Cols; a roller coaster over the Aubisque, Tourmalet, Aspin and Peyresourde. Christophe summited Tourmalet close behind the eventual winner Phillipe Thys and was informed by race officials that he was on his way to the lead of the general classification. But as he set off in chase of the Belgian his forks broke – the official line was that he’d been hit by a car, but it was later claimed that he’d fabricated the story to maintain Peugeot’s reputation and that the forks had in fact failed.The rules were clear, a rider could not change bikes. So, he was forced to carry it on his shoulder the for the remaining 14kms down to Sainte-Marie-de-Campan. Once there he was led to the local forgery where he set about fixing his bike under the watchful eye of the race officials as the regulations stipulated that a rider must make his own repairs. Following the instruction of the local blacksmith, Monsieur Lecomte, he managed to single-handedly weld his bike back together. Unimpressed by the organisers lack of empathy, when one of the supervising officials asked commissaire, Henri Desgrange, if he could go and eat, Christophe shouted angrily, “If you are hungry eat some coal…I am your prisoner and you will remain my keeper.” Ultimately the incident would cost him well over four hours (including a three minute penalty for allowing a 7 year old boy to pump the bellows) but he went on to finish in seventh place. A plaque now sits outside the forgery, and the story remains something of legend in the village.The (almost) annual pilgrimage to Tourmalet takes place again this year, and whilst we’re unlikely to see Romain Bardet carrying his bike down the mountain, thousands will pass by the plaque in the small village at the foot of the climb, marking one of the Tour’s most heroic performances.Read more about iconic climbs around the world in our Montagnes du Monde series. CLAIM THE BADGE VIA STRAVA Photography : Antton Miettinen

L’Alpe d’Huez: Montagnes du monde #6 “It is a rich slope” was the word that spread from the Romans. The purest minerals copper, zinc and coal were all mined here in a risk-reward enterprise that sometimes caused lethal avalanches to tumble down the steep slopes.Over-ground, l’Alpe quickly became a hotspot for winter sports. In 1936 it gave birth to the first version of the modern ski lift. So cycling, and Le Tour, was late to the scene, not arriving until nearly 20 years later, which is hard to imagine given that this is possibly the most famous climb in the history of La Grande Boucle. Industry and tourism lead to engineering. Man’s way of scaling this particular mountain? 21 hairpin bends going back and forth over 13.2 km at an average gradient of 8.1%.Come summer each bend, every kilometer and all the ramps that fill the space between switchbacks are animated by the colorful cycling jerseys and excited voices from far-flung places such as Australia and Russia. Road engineering turned into a monument by bicycle racing. As with the Giro and the Stelvio, the relationship between Alpe d’Huez and the Tour de France started in 1952 with a stage win by the legendary Fausto Coppi. Since then, especially from the late 70’s onwards, this little Alpine village marked its spot on the cycling map.Every bend has its own unique story. They are named after the winners of stages (some of them after two) and where they made their iconic attacks. Just don’t mention Lance. The 7th bend is also known as Dutch Corner, the riders from the flatlands seemingly claiming a bit of the Alps to compensate for their nation's lack of elevation. The fastest ascent record holder is Marco Pantani, who in 1997 climbed to the station in 37 minutes 35 seconds and won the stage. The podium on that day included Pantani, Jan Ullrich and Richard Virenque and their times feature in the top 10 of all time. That particular edition of the Tour was considered one of the most ‘performance-enhanced’…Those seeking to register a time should start with respect, and they should start early to avoid the heat and the crowds. The first few kilometres are particularly stiff and it takes time to find a rhythm. Allow yourself to drift away in a nostalgic train of thoughts, imagining all the incredible battles that took place on this same road. Counting down the bends, from 21 to 0 - Armstrong here, Schleck or Sastre there.The village of Alpe d’Huez is certainly not the most beautiful compared to other ski resorts in France. However, it is less touristic and has an amazing cycling atmosphere. Everyone is excited and friendly. There’s no feeling of rivalry, people exchange their experiences over coffee, discussing further plans for their day. Such a lovely mix of nationalities, all connected by simply riding bikes.The mountain may see up to 1000 riders a day in the season. It’s an obvious but inescapable analogy that these velocipedes are here to mine the rich history of this mountain-side velodrome. Judge it or just enjoy it. And when the second espresso is done, get ready for the twisting descent. This time counting from 0 to 21. Conti here, Hinault there.Read more about iconic climbs around the world in our Montagnes du Monde series. CLAIM THE BADGE VIA STRAVA Photography & Video : Karol Jaworski

ステルヴィオ峠：世界の山々#5 ある写真家が以前言ったことがあるが、美しいとは言い難い場所です。彼は山に住み、山で仕事をし、山でバイク走行をし、山を知り尽くしています。 彼の言葉は的を得ています。ステルヴィオ峠は電線やメタル構造が多くあり、美しい音というよりバイクや車の音で溢れています。インターネットで調べても分からない部分があるのです。プロであってもアマチュアであっても、厳しいクライムだと言うでしょう。ヨーロッパで３つ目に高い峠であり、全長22キロ、平均勾配7.1%。努力なしには登れないと言っても過言ではありません。 青銅器時代から人間がここを通り、毎年人々が訪れています。有名なスイッチバックが目的でもありますが、背景のストーリーも魅力です。 サイクリングが世界中で楽しまれるようになってから、ステルヴィオ峠はスポーツの歴史に名前を刻んでいます。ジロの最も高地のチーマコッピ（最も高い標高の峠に捧げられる賞）を初めて得た峠でもあります。ボルミオからは様々なクライムが続きます。低地のスロープは比較的なだらかで、木々や茂みを通り抜け、Theaの複数トンネルを走り、35個のスイッチバックも比較的ゆったりと走行できます。 トンネルから出ると、ボルミオ側のクライムでは最も美しいスイッチバックの中心部に出ます。水力発電所へと向かって登るとヘアピンカーブが続きます。 「醜い」と評される山頂には、素晴らしい魅力があるのです。スイッチバックを通過後、川に沿って渓谷を登ります。美しい景色ですが日陰がなく、かなり厳しい走行となります。渓谷を抜けて旧税関で右へ曲がり、左手200メートル先にはスイス国境があります。ここから高原での走行が始まります。 この地点が「醜い」と言われる場所です。岩が多く、カーブは多少中途半端で楽しみに欠け、現代的で退屈してしまうような走行です。電線が多くあり、スチール構造が張り巡らされています。山頂にはエンジンで到着した人々もいます。他の訪問者にはサイクリングのストーリーや高揚した気分は感じられないかもしれません。 気象学は非常に大切な役割を果たしています。Fausto Coppiが名前をジロの歴史に刻んだ日の前日には、やっと雪が溶けたばかりでした。1953年のジロでIl Campionissimoが一人で雪の壁を走り抜ける様子は、忘れられることはないでしょう。山の最初のルートは、チーマコッピ賞に刻み込まれています。ジロの最も高地点は複雑な面もあります。ステルヴィオは悪天候による変更やキャンセルが多くあり、1953年に開始して以来たった12回しか開催されていないのです。 5月末から6月初頭にチャンスが訪れ、9月から10月に再び閉鎖されます。雪が取り除かれ、ダークで滑らかなロードが露出すると期待が大きく膨らみます。ステルヴィオ峠はクライムだけではありません。登りと同様に厳しい降下が待ち受けており、レースの要となっています。Bernard Hinault とJean-René Bernaudeauは、ボルミオ側でのシングルトラックでは安全性よりもマリア・ローザを目指した勝利を優先しました。 4年ほど前まで、降下と天候が大混乱を極め、悪名高いレースラジオコミュニケーションが降下レースを無効化することなく管理を試みました。Nairo Quintanaを含むライダー3名は、山頂での指示を知ることなくTrafoiスイッチバックを降下しました。多くのライダーはレース無効化されたと信じ、走行を停止し暖かいレイヤーで身体を温めていました。山頂で停止するかしないかは好みの問題です。機能的なホテルやキオスクがあり、ファーストフード店ではソーセージが売られています。 上を見上げるとThe Refugio Garibaldiが見えます。第一次世界大戦で破壊されたスイスホテル跡隣に1960年代頃建てられた、山の文化を讃える存在です。モーターバイクライダーからスポーツカー愛好者、マウンテンバイクライダーや写真家が訪れています。 峠自体は美しくないかもしれませんが、下に広がる魅力的な道のりを通ってたどり着くものです。世界中のアイコニックなクライム走行は、世界の山々シリーズでお読み頂けます。 バッジを獲得する STRAVAを使用する 写真：Matt Wragg

Beach to Bonette Transhumance is the seasonal movement of people and their animals between low and high ground. In the mountains, part one is the ascension to abundant mountain pastures in the summer, part two is the descent to the valleys for winter shelter . In Saint-Étienne-de-Tinée, at the southern foot of the Col de la Bonette, there is an annual festival to celebrate the process. The cyclists of the Provence-Alpes-Côte-d’Azur region are no different from the shepherds and their herds. As soon as the déneigement team has finished its annual battle with the snow, riders flock to the Bonette. It’s an annual habit for Café du Cycliste, although this year we were a bit late to the party. Normally it’s a rushed drive up to the base at Saint-Étienne-de-Tinee to get to the col whilst the snow banks are still high and passing traffic low (not that this climb is ever as busy as its more famous counterparts). Having missed the opening week due to Ventoux gravel adventures, why not slow it down and ride up for sunset? From the beach to the Bonette has a nice ring to it. And statistics to match – from zero metres above sea level to 2,802m in 120kms. Like any serious ride, it is best broken down into the parts that make the whole. INTRO: WE ARE LIKE ROCKS Nice does not have fine white sandy beaches. It has galets, those smooth oval pebbles that are formed in the rush and tumble of the rivers that flow from the mountain tops of the Alpes-Maritimes. Riding in the opposite direction – up, ever up – shapes and moulds us cyclists, just as the rivers shape the stones. We rode to the Promenade, put some galets in our pockets, clipped in and rode north. PART ONE: A RIVER RUNS THROUGH ITFirst the wide open plains of the Var, from the estuary at the Med, to the confluence with first the Vesubie, and then the Tinée. Locally the valley is known for its two-directional wind. Headwind in the morning before the land mass heats up, tailwind in the afternoon. Luckily we planned to hit the summit at sunset, so it was tailwind to the bridge.PART TWO: IN BETWEEN ROCKS & A HARD PLACEPlan-du-Var is like a gateway hamlet between the open plains and the valley gorges. Almost immediately the road is clinging to the high rock face while the river rages below. It’s easy to miss the tiny road to the Tinée valley on the right, which like the water is squeezed between the cliffs of the Gorges de la Mescla. The road and the river criss-cross each other and we discover a “Parcours de pêche a la mouche”. Fly fishing in the belly of the mountains, a scene of tranquility soundtracked by the noise of the rapids. Apparently there’s a “no kill” policy. Which is a bit like the riding pace. With a 24km climb at the top of the valley, it’s a case of keeping the powder dry.PART THREE: RED ROCKS & BUNKERSAfter the junction that leads up to Rimplas with its tennis-court-equipped concrete bunker, the landscape changes dramatically. Out of the deep grey gorge and into the higher and more open one that is a battle between the almost luminous green horse chestnut trees and red shale rock. We’ve been part of Bunker Research before so are fully aware of not only the road side forts but also those perched above that stare down on us. This road was originally a matter of national importance for its founder, Napoleon III, and later one of national security during WW2. It flattens out and snakes its way north with an almost constant faux-plat manner.PART FOUR: HALF-TIME SAVIOUR SAINTCyclists are, as we all know, saved by patisseries. Being located almost exactly halfway up the valley, the boulangerie in Saint-Saveur-de-Tinée is regarded as an essential fuelling point (even if you are in the car). The tropézienne is trop bon. Rivers from the side valleys here powered the old mill, in a village which was once more commercial than touristic. On the northern outskirts the Col de la Couillole climbs out of the valley towards Roubion. It’s easy to forget in this sleepy town that the Tour used to pass through here and the Couillole was a contributing factor to The Canibal’s grand defaillance in 1975.PART FIVE: TO THE BASEThere are many great climbs out of the Tinée valley. Always, on the way to the Bonette, the arrival at Isola tells you the end of the valley is near. Known more for the ski station 2,000m old-town Isola is the starting point for the Col de la Lombarde. It's a beauty of a climb in itself and scene of ‘What About Joe’ during the 2016 Giro. But our pilgrimage is to ‘Europe’s Highest Road’ so it is up and over the final valley ‘climb’. On the summit of the hill before the town, nature is putting on a light show as if to suggest we have arrived in cycling heaven.PART SIX: ON THE SLOPES, ON THE ROPES.There is no time to stop in Saint-Étienne. Sunset may be at 2100h on the Promenade, but the sun dips below the sea’s horizon first and that is a long way for the light to travel to reach the Cime at the top. The treat for us comes above the hamlet of Bouseyias, past the half-way point on the climb. The world is divided in two parts; light to the east and shadow to the left. Like the gorge below, the green grass that leads the whole way up to Camp des Fourches, is iridescent. We may have been behind the other riders, but we are ahead of the shepherds and their sheep and are surrounded by the reason they keep coming back. We enter the familiar last section of dark grey rocks, dappled with light and the last remnants of snow. The Col is open, but the Cime has been closed off, amusingly, by a barricade of snow. We demount and follow the last rays and, distracted by the view, the 15% slopes are less painful than expected.OUTRO: STONED AT ALTITUDEIt’s probably the effect of the altitude. We almost forget the galets in our pockets. Pulling out the pebbles and placing them on the roadside does exactly what it was intended to – immediately, standing on the lunar landscape with the sun setting behind the peaks, the contrast to the busy beach at the start of the day is almost too much to comprehend. RIDERS' NOTES Komoot Route - click here Footnotes: Photography : Matt Wragg

山頂 モン・ヴァントゥは両刃の剣のようなものです。イゾアール峠はプロヴァンスの高地にあるスロープを彷彿させ、テュリニ峠は同様の厳しさがあります。しかし、モン・ヴァントゥはユニークであることには間違いありません。スロープの下部は森に囲まれ、ロード側はレッドとホワイトのライムストーン岩で覆われています。シュールな雰囲気が漂う山頂へ向かう完璧なルートだと言えるでしょう。 山頂はヴァントゥ峠ではありません。2つの渓谷間の出入り口ではなく、山を越えずに麓の街を繋ぐ形で回っていきます。従って1911メートルの高さのあるフランスの最大のクライムとなります。 Malaucène、Bédoin、Saultの街はサイクリストで溢れ、バイクレンタルやショップが多くあります。サイクリングのメッカだと言えるでしょう。 ニースのバックカントリーの静けさと比べると、多少衝撃を感じるかもしれません。あらゆるところにサイクリスト、モーターサイクリストが走り、スポーツカーやキャンピングカーで溢れています。 喧騒から逃れる方法は必ずあり、ここではグラベルがおすすめです。 Club des Cingles du Ventouxによってリストされている第４クライムがありますが、Bédoinから始まりMalaucèneへと続く別のライドを計画しました。グラベルが最初から山頂まで続く道のりで、下降はなめらかなロードです。フランスのマップサービス「l'Institut national de l’information géographique et forestière」は略称IGNで知られています。 forestière は最近加えられたもので、Les routes forestièresは公的資金に支えられ、私有地のアクセスも含まれます。ヴァントゥでは、13 世紀から森林活動が行われ、他の活動に比べ重要視されてきました。 グラベルバイク走行中に、ブラックのドットラインで囲まれた白線を目にするでしょう。Nationalesルート 、departementaleルート, departementaleルートより下ランクにつけられているコースです。 コースは多くの通り道を意味し、ルート、トレイル、シングルトラック、ダブルトラック、ランウェイ、ダンスフロアにもなり得ます。IGNに記されているルートは基本的にグラベルバイクで通過することができます。未知の場所と記載された場所を繋ぎ、マップを読む楽しみを増す効果があると言えます。 舗装されていないということは、保証がないということです。白い砂利道では春の雨水が全てを混ぜ合わせ、岩で覆われた道は走行が難しくなっています。スロープの下部が最も難しい箇所だと言えるでしょう。急勾配のラフなスイッチバックを通ると、アスファルトが見えてきます。Mylèneは嬉しさのあまりバイクから降りて地面にキスをし、道端のタイムを摘んで香りを胸いっぱいに吸い込みます。アスファルトが100メートルを覆うロードでは素晴らしい感覚です。辺りには誰1人いず、笑い声以外は物音ひとつしません。これがグラベルの魅力だと言えるでしょう。 ルートは山へと向かい杉とモミの木が茂る深い森へと続きます。長く真っ直ぐな道は光と影が同量に差し、ミストラルが揺れ動かないヴァントゥの暑い季節には、リヴィエラの海辺の風が恋しくなるでしょう。ついにルートの交差点に到着しましたが、グラベルを通じて他に何通りの行き方があるのでしょうか。この後のロードはスムーズになり、スピードが増します。山のドラマが姿を現し始めるのです。 ルートの最後は思っていたより早く近づき、まるで高速道路の交差点のような場所に辿り着きます。ライダーは両方向にフルスピードで通りすぎ、上下を睨みつけています。1人のサイクリストがグラベルとコンクリートの境目で転倒し、休んでいます。 Bédoinから始まったグラベルは、山を回り、Malaucène側の残り4キロのクライムを走ります。サイクリスト達が多い中、マウンテンバイク、ツアー、リカンベントライダー達が行き交います。 山頂までの最後の数キロは独特の空気が流れ、ヘアピンカーブでは地元の写真家が撮影しながら応援の声をかけています。ライダーそれぞれが勇気づけられる声でもあります。ロードが終わってもライドは終わらない、というグラベルバイクライダーにとっての山頂への無言のルールがあります。Andreaは有名なマストへ向かう曲がりくねったシングルトラックを目にし、アンテナと雲を背景に山頂へと岩を乗り越えてクライムする姿は素晴らしいものに映りました。 山頂へ辿り着いた後は、21キロのカーブと完璧に舗装された降下を楽しむのみです。空中には障害物が多く飛んでおり、口を閉じてサングラスをかけ、なるべく停車しないようにして進みます。自然を敬い、遊びを控える瞬間です。 ライダーノート 脚注：写真： Matt Wraggモン・ヴァントゥ、モン・ヴァントゥ、フランス

The Tumble : Montagnes du monde #4 South Wales may offer up a completely different parcours to Paris-Roubaix but both locations, which on paper may seem like unlikely cycling hotspots, share a common history in the development of the sport in their surroundings. That history was born underground, by deserted mines that helped spark the Industrial Revolution. And whereas the Hell of the North has the cobbles of the Arenberg, the Brecon Beacons have the slopes of the Iron Mountain, aka, The Tumble. It’s one of southern Britain’s most iconic climbs and like Roubaix, its environs offer up some gritty riding.It’s considered as the gateway to the South Wales Valleys, where towns and villages appeared as industrialists discovered the reserves of iron and coal under the green and undulating landscapes. At 4.7km in length, with an average gradient of 8.2% there’s no surprise that it’s a favourite amongst local riders, and featured as a summit finish in the 2014 Tour of Britain.And riders who know the history of The Tumble will ride it from the Govilon side to go up and over into the heartlands of rural Wales. The gradient is kind to begin with, becoming steeper after 800m as you ride through the woodland. Hidden under tree cover, the initial slopes of the climb are relentless. A cattle-grid halfway up signals the start of the moor-land, which offers a more forgiving gradient, but often exposes you to a punishing wind.As the trees disappear, and road flattens off, the view will open up to your right hand side. On a clear day, it's picturesque, with only rolling hills and green farmland to be seen. The road undulates towards the summit, descending slightly before kicking up again for the finale at Keeper’s Pond. Make friends with the sheep as you cover up for the descent towards Blaenavon, the UNESCO World Heritage site that is a living memoire of a mining town. The huge Ironworks and the Big Pit, the canals and the railways and the terraced houses where workers recovered from their subterranean endeavours all evidence what is considered as one of the most important elements of the Industrial Revolution in the United Kingdom.And, as cycling history shows, these places and that time also produced hard men to whom cycling was a welcome escape and, for some, a chance to make a new and better life. It is impossible to read about Welsh cycling without crossing Arthur Linton’s story. It is a tale of outstanding talent and success followed by tragedy. With his salary from working down the mines he bought a penny farthing before progressing to more familiar shaped ‘safety bicycle’. By 1890 he was winning races and his rise to stardom culminated in breaking the world 100 mile record at Herne Hill Velodrome, before the move to France. He became a successful track rider, winning in the famous Velodrome d’Hiver in central Paris, and that form was quite naturally transferred to the road. But therein lay the problem.In 1896 Linton returned to mining country, this time by finishing fourth in the first edition of the Paris-Roubaix. It was then considered as the little sister to the biggest one-day race on the calendar, the Bordeaux-Paris. During the race, mechanical failure led to a crash, which led to a bike change, which led to a wrong turn, which led to another crash, which led to a desperate chase to the finish line. After much furore about Linton’s deviation from the parcours and pre-event route changes that weren’t communicated to riders, Linton was eventually awarded the joint win with Gaston Rivière.But the damage had been done. He was entered into more races in London and Paris and could not finish due to ill health. Linton returned to Aberaman in South Wales only to eventually die from an official diagnosis of typhoid fever. The unofficial diagnosis was a combination of physical exhaustion and alleged doping. It’s a rise and fall legend that serves as a reminder that it is a true privilege to be able to ride beautiful climbs such as The Tumble at leisure. So when climbing those first steep slopes, remember Arthur Linton, smile and remember to claim your badge afterwards.Read more about iconic climbs around the world in our Montagnes du Monde series. CLAIM THE BADGE VIA STRAVA Photography : Luke Davies

Adventure commute noun: commute; plural noun: commutes. 1. A regular journey of some distance to and from one's place of work."the daily commute" No app in its right mind would suggest this route, but perhaps that’s the aim. Twenty kilometres there. Twenty kilometres back. Most days the aim is to arrive quickly and efficiently. Carve a trace amongst the buses and taxis until you join the daily peloton for the usual single-focus ride: across the bridge, along Embankment and back amongst the buses and taxis to the finish. Why not make the regular irregular? Deviate from the beaten path to find a more beat-up track that makes your ride, well, more upbeat.Head to Richmond Park on any morning and you’ll find plenty of cyclists. Smashing out laps or simply passing through, on bikes ranging from worn out workhorses to aero TT stallions, punching holes through the morning air. But it’s a big green space amongst the grey, and a chance to get amongst the foliage in the morning mist. Early in the morning the single tracks around the park are deserted. It’s a chance to play; to ride amongst the deep grass; an opportunity to ride solo at a time when most are either sleeping or on someone else’s wheel. And the gravel demands your focus on one thing and one thing only: riding.Exit the park, and instead of the bus lane, get up close to the river. In the shade of the trees, interspersed with sudden shafts of light breaking through the undergrowth, you feel the coolness of the early morning. The river to your left, the boat houses to your right. Instead of white vans and bin lorries to accompany you, you have dog walkers and runners. The sight of rowers is somehow relaxing, seeing them effortlessly cut through the water, nothing in their way. On this ride, everything is going against the flow, in every possible way.Then it’s time for some bridge roulette. The next one will do. Head north of the river, and see where you end up. The further you get, the mind starts to focus. A flurry of cars and traffic lights greet you as you hit the main road. Then Hyde Park gate appears, and there is calm again. Busier than Richmond earlier, the paths are littered with riders who have become fatigued with the battle on the bitumen.Getting closer to the City and some things are unavoidable. As you exit the park past Marble Arch, you can start to feel the pressure mounting. A sense that time is running out, queues and traffic beginning to build. Time to head east. At this point imagination helps to maintain the illusion – to maintain the adventure. Ducking down side streets, riding cobbles, climbing walls. Scouring the urban forest for all it has to offer…past the Horse Hospital and onto the Panther House.Then everything is clear. Buildings look familiar, and it becomes apparent that these roads have been ridden before. Work is just around the corner. Time for one final stop, to reflect on the journey.As you cross the square, the suits are beginning to arrive, stale from the underground, gripping their daytime drug coffee cups. A quick glance at the bike where white dust and grit clings to the down tube; remnants and reminders of the ride in. An extended commute. An adventure commute. One that makes the post-ride coffee taste better and adds endorphin highs to the day ahead.

Bear Mountain: Montagnes du monde #3 The Statue of Liberty, Empire State Building, Brooklyn Bridge and Central Park are all famous landmarks synonymous with New York City. However, ask any local cyclists for their pick and they will most probably mention Bear Mountain. Although, it is not technically within the city limits, it is perhaps the best known peak that’s accessible to all New York City cyclists. Located approximately 50 miles north of the city amongst the highlands of the Hudson River valley, it is within reach when a big day is on the schedule.During the American Revolutionary War, the Hudson River valley was considered a strategically critical area. Gaining control of the river meant controlling supplies, men, and materials between the New England states and those further south. Remnants of the battles fought, such as the famous Battle of Forts Clinton and Montgomery, can still be seen scattered within the bounds of Bear Mountain State Park. Nowadays, the park is mostly frequented by folks trying to escape the city – cyclists included.There are a few ways to reach Bear Mountain. One way, which many locals consider the scenic route, is entering the park through the north side by way of Seven Lakes Drive. As the name implies, this route will take you through seven beautiful lakes within Harriman State Park on roads mostly devoid of car traffic. During summer days, a dip in one of the lakes is a must! The views, however, do come with some added miles and climbs before reaching Bear Mountain. The most direct route – and the one that counts on Strava – is entering the park through the south entrance by the 9 West Highway or 9W as the locals call it.At its peak, Bear Mountian is just shy of 1,300ft in elevation on a 4.5 mile stretch of beautiful paved road - a tiny mole hill compared to some of the world’s most famous climbs. However, what it lacks in grandeur makes up for having some of the best views of the Hudson highlands. From the south entrance, the first mile to the roundabout gets quite steep compared to the rest of the climb – kicking up to about 9%. Follow the roundabout north to Seven Lakes Drive and the road eases down to about 5-6%. After 2.5 miles take the right to Perkins Memorial Drive – named after the man who helped create the state park.During most of the winter, this road is closed off to car traffic – perfect for those hunting KOMs - but be wary of hikers as the Appalachian Trail crosses through Bear Mountain. Once on Perkins Memorial Drive the climb steepens to about 10% as the road opens up revealing the view of the Hudson Valley. The final narrow section then returns to a steady 5-6%, waiting to be attacked if you've saved enough for one final effort. Once you’ve reached Perkins Memorial Tower, you know you’ve made it to the top. From there, you are rewarded with an incredible view. In fact, you can see four states from the top of Bear Mountain – New York (obviously), New Jersey, Pennsylvania, and Connecticut. And on a clear day you are able to see the skyline of Manhattan and see how far you’ve come! And the distance is what makes Bear Mountain a challenging climb – there’s anywhere from 50-60 miles to get to the start of the climb. It doesn't take a mathematician to know that the out on back from the city will make it a 100 mile day. Perhaps, the best thing to do is to ride over to the other side of the Hudson and take the train back to the city from Peekskill. But make sure to grab a cold one to enjoy on the train back home.Read more about iconic climbs around the world in our Montagnes du Monde series. CLAIM THE BADGE VIA STRAVA Photography & Text : Donalrey Nieva

大帽山：世界の山々 #2 双極島の気温と厚い雲が香港での走行を妨げているとはいえ、市内のサイクリングカルチャーは過去数年で急激に成長しました。 実際、世界で最も成長の早いサイクリング業界だと言えるでしょう。世界第２位の割合で億万長者が住み、世界一の点心が食べられる場所でもあります。香港でバイク走行をすることは、社会のエリートと肩を並べる可能性があり、王のような食事ができるチャンスでもあります。香港の領域が広くなるということは、探検する場所が増えるという意味でもあり、市内の密度は非常に高く、街からのエスケープは酸素と同じくらい必要です。香港のサイクリングが有名な理由としてクライム走行があります。中でも有名なVictoria Peakは香港島の中心にあります。Fei Go Shanは15%〜20%の勾配があり、ランタオ島のランタオ ピークは山頂に巨大な仏像が立っています。最もアイコニックで標高の高い山は大帽山です。 クラウドティーと呼ばれる緑茶で有名な大帽山は、ほぼ永久的に山頂に気象学的現象が見られるため「雲山」として知られています。ライダーによると、気候が合えば、自分がまるで空の一部になったかのような感覚さえ覚えるそうです。実際に大帽山に到達する前に、Tseun Wan駅から始まるツイスクルートでウォームアップを行います。おおよそ6キロのルートで勾配は比較的低く、山を登る前の準備として最適です。ツイスクルートから出ると「大帽山カントリーパーク」のサインがあります。ここから山頂まで安定した9%の勾配が続く2.5キロのクライムが始まります。初めて走行するライダーは、山麓の比較的楽な勾配に油断してしまいますが、徐々にキツくなり山頂に着くまでに3つのスイッチバックを通る必要があります。 スイッチバックに入ると、ここからは全てを注ぎ込んで最後まで走り抜くほかありません。 クライムが終わると降下し、点心で有名なChoi Lungへ向かうのみです。写真＆文: Far Ride Magazineバッジを獲得する STRAVAを使用する

What is long? From the underground, past the tipping point and into popular culture. The Transcontinental, the French Divide, the TransAm Race - ultra distance cycling is now in the mainstream. It has a long (yes, we know....) deep and, if we may so, quite french history. But like other extreme sports, have a conversation with an outsider and the question remains the same - a big fat 'why'? The Three Amigos - Matthieu, Elisabeth and Gregory - from Due North, the Nice to London shop to shop adventure, attempt to explain the what, the why, the give and the take of long. WHAT IS LONG? MATTHIEUOur discipline, our type of riding, is inspired by the Audax tradition, the sporting randonnées, events created by the Brevets de Randonneurs Mondiaux (founders of Paris-Brest-Paris). The range of distance is very subjective, but I think we can start to classify it as 'long' when we spend a full day on the road. Then it becomes natural to extend the days, to ride into the night. It always progresses - from a few days to several weeks and so the adventures grow.ELISABETHIt is a way of riding that has existed since the beginning of cycling and which combines, in my opinion, an aspect of endurance and travel. The tradition of long-distance riding has never been lost, and has continued in France with events like Paris-Brest-Paris, Les Diagonales, Les Flèches (arrows), etc. It seems to me that we can start talking about long distance beyond 200kms per day, including riding into the night. Long distance changes the notion of performance: we do not speak of average speed or moving time, but of a global elapsed time to go from point A to point B. The management of stops is more important than the speed on the bike.GREGORYLong distance is the school of humility and patience. It is something that requires a lot of caution because nothing happens as expected and it requires an ability to get out of your comfort zone, no matter how big or small that might be.WHY LONG?M: To fill two aspects of my personality. On the one hand, I have a contemplative and curious nature, and on the other I admit to having quite a bit of nervous energy and I find trouble channeling myself naturally. The hypnotic, binary practice of cycling has managed to regulate my energy, to find its rhythm. It allows me to balance this unnecessary energy expenditure with my natural idleness by giving it meaning, becoming the driving force (in the literal sense of the term) of my curiosity. It allows me to advance, to discover new places, to climb new passes, to enjoy riding a well-tuned machine but also to bring back graphic content of these adventures that will become the main focus of my daily work between rides. E: I do long distance because it corresponds well to my physiology and my psychology: I am tough and persistent and I do not really suffer from the effort over time. I discovered that I am more comfortable on long outings than on brief and intense efforts. I like to know where my limits are, and I enjoy real life challenges. Finally, I keep a wonder in tact for the concept of the distance that can be ridden on a small 10kg pile of scrap using only the force of your legs. I do not have a car, I ride far by bike and it's a form of reaction to certain behaviours of some of my contemporaries. Some people go to get bread by car - one tonne of scrap to lug a 70kg human! G: Because I'm looking for something, something that everyday can not bring me, a different routine, a fresh look at things. A shower takes on a whole new dimension when it's the first time in three days, a text message of encouragement from 1000kms away gives you wings even when you think about giving up and going home. It is these emotions that I seek and that long distance brings me. To lose oneself to better find oneself.WHAT DOES LONG TAKE?M: The mental aspect is different for each rider. It is fundamental to find balance in your head and, to a certain extent, a meaning to our wanderings. Or at least to make us believe in something or some purpose. Of course you need quality equipment adapted for long distance. A bike with a good balance between comfort and performance, a position that doesn't distract or cause pain, a functional luggage solution and clothing designed for the purpose. If pitfalls and glitches will always be part of the story, having equipment designed and proven for long hours in the saddle is a real benefit. And take a knife, a knife always serves you well.E:First you have to want to. There are many other forms of cycling, and long distance does not necessarily suit everyone. Then you need to train. You must acquire a habit of long hours in the saddle. It is essential to have found the right settings of the position on the bike to avoid injury. It is important to have tested all your equipment to avoid being stranded somewhere. Finally, you have to have the taste of the effort and a certain desire to surpass yourself, as well as a form of patience. It's important to get along with yourself and know when to stop. It is a discipline that makes you introspective and contemplative, it calms the nerves!G: Mental strength, lots of mental strength. So much is in the mind because no matter what the distance, the weather alters the emotions, which take on quite different dimensions and you can pass from laughter to tears in less than five minutes. It requires an ability to cheat with your brain and yourself make believe that everything is fine. WHAT DOES LONG GIVE?M: A feeling of being outside of time. In an unreal reality. All temporality evolves, distorts itself, after a few days the animal instinct begins to dominate our behaviour, the senses sharpen, the feelings too. A satisfaction. The retrospective to have travelled 'all that' without the help of anyone, to have pierced the life of a country like a silent arrow and to have chosen your playground. And, of course, stories of extraordinary friendships.E: Well, a hell of an endorphin shot! And the pleasure of a long trip, which unfolds like a film almost uninterrupted. The satisfaction of having gone far with simple mechanical means. And finally a break in everyday life, because the only concerns on the bike are of aesthetic order in front of the landscape, physical effort and logistics, in the very short term. We are in a sense constrained to immediacy and it feels good.G: Memories, good or bad, but unforgettable. Friendships too, sometimes unexpected and often strong and above all, a different perspective on the world because the expectations are lower when traveling with a bike and a sleeping bag.Footnotes: Photography by Manivelle.cc

Sa Calobra：世界の山々 #1 パルマ生まれのエンジニアAntonio Pariettiをはじめ、マヨルカのバレアレス諸島を訪れる何千人ものサイクリスト達が知らなかったことですが、彼らは自然を愛し、素晴らしいロードを持つ同族精神の持ち主です。 ヨーロッパの最も美しく整備されたリボン状のロードであるSa Calibreに感謝の意を表すべき、Pariettiの存在があります。マドリッドでの土木工学位を修得後Pariettiはパルマに戻り、島の美しい自然へとアクセスを改善すべく、新しいロードプロジェクトに取り掛かりました。 1925年に最初のプロジェクトである、島の最北端にあるフォーメントー灯台への道が開通しました。Cap de Formentorに沿ってスネーク状に走るロードは、この後に建設される傑作への予行練習だったのではないかと言われています。 Sa Calobraは、エンジニアとサイクリストからの名声が島で最も高いロードです。現地の人々は、「コブラ」「結び目」「ネクタイ」、「穴」と言ったニックネームをこのクライムにつけています。 Sa Calobraは湾の下方にある小さな村であり、以前はボートでのみ行くことができましたが、Pariettiのロードは大きな変化をもたらしました。ツールドフランスの1年前1932年に建設され、山ルートはプラスポイントを得ることができるため、クライム走行はプロフェッショナルサイクリングの最も重要な個所となりました。特にマヨルカではそうなっています。Sa Calobraは、マヨルカの北から西を占めるTramuntana山と海との境界線にあります。そのため、Sa Calobraに辿り着くことは簡単なことではありません。クライムをした後、急降下を楽しみます。パルマからは、グランドツアーステージと似たコースが続き、Coll de SollerとPuig Majorのピークが待ち受けています。 Serra da Traumuntanaは非常に美しく、ユネスコ世界遺産となっています。人間によるコントロールと保護された自然の素晴らしいバランスを感じることができます。Pariettiも同じ哲学を持っていました。山にトンネルを掘るよりも、自然の形に沿ってカーブを作り出すことでランドスケープを守る方法を彼はとりました。協調性を意識したやり方です。そのためリボン状のカーブは完璧な美しさであり、海と有名な270度のネクタイカーブまでに26個のヘアピンカーブがあります。安定した勾配がスムーズなクライム走行を可能にするのです。スムーズとは言っても楽なわけではありません。Sa Calobraは距離9.4キロ、勾配7%の島で最も厳しいクライムです。マドン峠のように分岐点もなく安定した坂道が続き、かなりの体力を必要とします。 StravaのKOMはSergio Henaoによるタイム24:54が公式記録となっています。通常のサイクリストは1時間以内のタイムリミットを念頭に置き、40分前後が良い記録だと言えるでしょう。ロードの目的と山々の美しさを考えると、統計とタイムについて話すのは矛盾しているような気がします。目的地があるクライムであり、往復の冒険である走行は、迷わず進むことが鍵かもしれません。世界の山々シリーズで、世界中のアイコニックなクライムについてお読みください。 バッジを獲得する STRAVAを使用する 写真 : John Braymard

Week-end prolongé: Père & fils Le Week-End Prolongé (n) : Add an extra day (or two), breathing room to find riding space somewhere special. Or simply somewhere simple. Get up, kit on, ride out kind of trips. Cycling for the soul. Paul-Louis Clermont, 72, is busy changing the set-up on his borrowed bike in the Café's atélier. He's trying to get back into road mode after adding a Scott e-MTB to his substantial bike collection which runs from old steel roadies, fully rigid MTBs, special edition carbon superbikes and custom gravel bikes. He’s helped by his son, and our co-founder, Rémi, who knows the set-up is as important to his father as the post-ride Strava analysis will be. Michel Icard, 61, arrives with his ever-present smile and twinkle in the eye and puts down his bag in front of the Café bar. Said bag still proudly wears the sticker bearing his race number from last year’s Gran Fondo World Championships, where, as a climber on a sprinter’s course, he was disappointed to finish only 14th. Florent, his son, arrives at the same time having just spent the morning helping skiers snap into their bindings up in Auron. Previously an up-and-coming future superstar, Flo now splits his time between the winter season in the snow and the summer season on the pedals. It’s his first real foray on the road in 2018, and he’s worried the old men will beat him up. This Week-End Prolongé had been staring everybody in the face for months. Literally. Resting on the Port every morning and evening are the ferries that bridge the channel between Nice and Corsica. It's an obvious thing to do from the Café - a roll-on, roll-off affair with no airport security and bike box lugging to pollute the experience. Corsica is important to the Icards. Michel, or Mich Mich as everyone in the niçois cycling world affectionately calls him, is married to a Corsican and him and Flo return to visit the family house buried in the southern mountains at least once a year. Flo tells us that during his years as an elite amateur with his sights on a professional contract, he didn’t train anywhere that hurt his legs like the Corsican roads did. ‘Jamais plat’ ('never flat') he says, verifying the island’s nickname of ‘The Mountain In The Sea’.Cap Corse is the obvious first pick from the ride base in Bastia. Ride the 100km lap of the peninsula anti-clockwise - catch the early sun rays on the east and ride into the sunset on the west. Paul-Louis questions the plan immediately, 'if we ride anti-clockwise that means we finish with the Col de Teghime?” He’s from Alsace in northern France but displays a knowledge of roads and mountains that suggests there is a Michelin map of every region imprinted on his brain. Paul-Louis has never competed in a race, never been in a club and he’ll join the Ventoux night ride before he’ll do a sportive. But he’s ridden all his life. For pleasure. For himself. And with his son. Rémi comes from the same mould. It has helped him see cycling in a different light, forming his own breakaway from the peloton. Cap Corse plunges you almost immediately into the remoteness that the island delivers. Endless sea views to the right, snow-capped mountains to your left, it is not a stereotypical flat branch out into the sea. Erbalunga is the first hint of picture postcard fishing village life that sustains a quiet part of a tranquil region. The Genoise Towers decorate the coast like army badges, worn by an island that has been fought over for centuries.Top tip – never ride the Cap de Corse off season without previously making a lunch reservation. Stunning tranquillity is one thing, hunger with 50kms remaining on the route card is another. Mich Mich expresses how one of the best experiences of ultra-endurance riding (one of the many many disciplines he partakes in) is to arrive in town, pass through a cloud of sumptuous cooking aromas and follow your nose to the plate. Despite his ‘sec’ appearance, Mich can eat as well as he climbs. He knows how to fuel the engine: little and often. Or maybe just often. Flo and Rémi could learn a lesson from him as they recount tales of bonking and being towed back home by their dads in the early days. After eventually finding the best charcuterie in the world in Centuri, the four-ball rolls on one of the most spectacular coastal roads known to cyclists. At points the road is a singletrack masquerading as a standard route nationale, the white line in the middle needing assistance from passing places to allow two-way traffic, if there was any. It clings to the edge of the sharp cliffs which dive into the ocean and disappears round rocky outcrops leaving nothing but dramatic sea and sky vistas behind. The group rides tight, enjoying the billiard table surface and the panorama and not much is said because not much needs to be said.Looking west the sun is the hourglass timer for the ride, its height above sea level used to determine the remaining saddle time. Nonza bay was the target. Sunset on the beach, legs in the ocean to be refreshed for day two. Paul-Louis, at 72, feels the cold more than anybody and opts out. Flo, ever the joker, opts to throw stones and splash Remi and Mich Mich as they try and enjoy the view. With a gran fondo in the tank, endorphin release is set to maximum. The only thing required is more food. In the restaurant the waiter is clearly trying to off-load the day’s delivery of côte de bœuf to the late clientele. It’s the best Corsican beef, “fait moi confiance” he repeats over and over, causing laughter and doubt in equal measure. Everyone orders pizza, but they do succumb to the sales pitch for the local wine.One day on the best coastal road in the world is followed by a mountainous 80kms loop inland, starting with the Col de Santo Stefano. The D62, like quite a few of the roads in Corsica, is marked on the Michelin map with the famous green line which denotes a scenic route. It starts in the olive groves on the lower slopes then breaks out into the gorge with a tunnel view right up towards the snowy peaks of Asco, where skiing still looks possible. But the trees are charred black from wildfires and further up the climb, peering over the cliff reveals a cemetery of unwanted cars that have been sent to their final resting place in dramatic Hollywood fashion. It’s a good excuse for a pause and a joke on the climb. It’s also a reminder that Corsica, for all its beauty, has an edge to it. First day lunch panic is replaced by second day lunch picnic. Baguettes in the back pocket and eating al fresco on a rock in the middle of nowhere. The flowers are springing but they are still over-shadowed by the empty bright yellow shotgun cartridges that pepper the grass. Flo’s grandad is a chasseur and, according to Icard junior, so is 90% of the male population of the island. The charcuterie has to come from somewhere. Through the perched villages of Pieve, Sorio and San Pietro-di-Tenda and a mis-en-scène of rural Corsican life. Down to Saint-Florent for coffee and front row seats for the post-lunch pétanque. A stout man arrives and immediately throws every boule with pin-point accuracy, much to Rémi's delight.The bowl shaped valley behind Saint-Florent that rises up to the ridgeline between Oletta and Patrimonio is like a displaced taste of Tuscany. It is perfect wine country. Patrimonio is the recognised area and the Leccia domaine is an ideal final pit-stop before the Col de Teghime and the boat home. Mich Mich takes a taste, even though you get the sense he’d rather keep riding. He understands this is a shared experience and part of this particular ride that adds to his encyclopedia of cycling experiences. Flo repeatedly asks if there is any charcuterie whilst Rémi is torn between knowing that there is limited space to carry wine back to Nice and that, once on the mainland, it may be ‘stored’ in his house. Paul-Louis? Well he is in his element. He collects wine almost as fervently as bikes and buys two cases; “it’s good but, more importantly, every time I drink it, I’ll remember this ride”. Wisdom for the long road.Flo tells a great story of a fall from glory. Having been riding in a day-long breakaway in the Tour de Savoie he had a grande defaillance on the final climb resulting in a loss of 15mins in the last 10kms. Like all racing engines, his is one of fine tolerances – it can be revved hard but if not oiled correctly it may explode. He goes ‘hypo’ on the climb up the Col de Teghime and gets dropped by everyone. They wait for him, then he sprints the summit. You can take the racer out of the racing but not the racing out of Flo. Dinner has no added ‘fait moi confiance’ as it’s a torn up chicken and baguette watching the ferry traffic on the port. Onto the boat for the return home and the father and sons split into their cabins that, on the slightly cheaper ferry, are bite size. After a weekend together, that might be too close for some, but the Clermonts and the Icards have no issue – tired bodies and comfortable silence based on the closest bond of them all. RIDERS' NOTESThe Corsican Ferries run from right outside Café du Cycliste in Nice Port. There are two companies offering the service and the possibility to travel over-night. Day 1 - Cap Corse ROUTE Day 2 - Haute Corse Heights ROUTE Footnotes: Photography : Matt Wragg

Gravel to gravel, dust to mud Cycle to Tuscany for the Strade Bianche said the little voice in my head. The Italian Riviera in the springtime; the Cinque Terre and the Med always to the right. Pisa and pizza and then finishing between rows of cypresses on the infamous Tuscan white roads, watching the pros zip past in dust and sun.A gravel bike ride to a riding gravel race – the sort of concept the little voice in my head knows I cannot resist. It could have been a short shorts and shaved legs ride: what could possibly go wrong? February is the cruellest month, TS Eliot almost wrote, but actually February was fine. February 27th, February 28th and the sun shone, though it gave out little heat. The bike was loaded and the Wahoo programmed to take me along the coast and then into the hills. Camogli. I stopped here once before, I remember, when I was a student, travelling on the train with friends. That day we took the last room in town, overlooking the pebbly beach, and watched the setting sun burnish the walls of the room with gold. Then we swam in the cold sea, heads bobbing over the dark blue, faces disappearing and reappearing in the swell, lens flare in the last rays. In the evening the locals processed statues of Saint Fortunato in the streets, fried fish and made spectacular bonfires on the beach. This time, years later, seasons earlier, it is too cold to stay outside, and so I drink brandy and think with trepidation about the next day’s cold. Snow in piles in the shade, the sun setting and the Cinque Terre rising before me.The bike route across the first hills to Portofino becomes very climby, following timeworn tracks used by walkers and pack animals. Even now they are patrolled by tiny trucks. In Italy there is an industry still making diminutive vehicles for these tiny steep lanes between the olive trees. In some places I have to get off and carry my bike, but there are three-wheeled Apes here hardier than I. In the warmest corners there is the smell of wild garlic, sole reminder of spring, but elsewhere my tyres crunch through frost. In Portofino, Russian girls in yachting wear and furs pose for a camera, but as soon as the lens cap is on they dive into the cafe where I am having coffee. Out of town up in the hills the landscape drains of colour. There are tiny birds lying frozen dead on the road. On the north side of the hills the road is frigid monochrome and on the south it is white from salt stains and snow melt. A 10-kilometre descent calls for an emergency pizza. Finally stopped, after 150km, I wash my base layers – two, and two neck warmers – in the hotel sink and go to a restaurant, where I shock the waiter with how much food I eat.The next day is 1 March and though that is the calendar start of spring, it is also when the Beast from the East comes to visit. Outside the hotel there is snow on the ground and it is snowing, a wet, cold, cloying snow. By Pisa, 40km south I give up and try to catch a train. But there are no trains running into the hills of Tuscany. Lines closed. I have to get to the Strade Bianche. I have to interview a rider for a magazine, and besides my bed that night is in the team hotel, an expensive luxury to miss. I stand around in Pisa station for a while with crowds of tourists who want to go to Florence, not knowing what to do. And then you realise that you keep putting yourself in these situations and that there is only one way out. I get back on the bike. Hours of zero degrees, sleet and dirty snowmelt road spray. The headwind the icy breath of the Beast from the East. I stop at the next station, still no trains, and no taxis too. The kindness of strangers in a café and a tobaconnist where I stop to drink coffee and eat chocolate. No photos and nothing to report beyond the tip of my nose. Empty handlebar pack, all my clothes are on. Eventually, with 30km left, I find a cab that will take me to my warm shower and bed. I drip all over the inside as I warm up. The view from the hotel is white. Two days before the Strade Bianche and it’s not just the roads in Tuscany that are white – it’s everything. The teams trickle in through the hotel lobby doors in cold gusts of apprehension, sheltering from winter’s revenge outside.The next day I recce the course with the team, and the snow has mainly gone, but it is all mud rivers and slush piles instead. How many, tomorrow, will be truly up for it? Will the battle be won before the start? Riding down to Siena that evening, rows of cypresses stand guard in the gloom over the infamous strade bianche. The women’s race starts and ends in the rain, all embrocation and sounds of brakes in the wet. The men get wet and are strafed by stormclouds all day. But heroes rise out of this mud. Heroes like Anna van der Breggen, and Tiesj Benoot, Wout van Aert and Romain Bardet. And they would not be the heroes we need them to be if these races were easy. Why do we try to do things that are so hard, I ask myself. And then I realise that I keep putting myself in these situations and that there is only one way out.