Alpe d'Huez. 'Nuff said.

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Geo: 45.0928, 6.06986

We wanted to beat the crowds (many of whom would be bused up from Bourg d' Oisan) at the chairlift. We kinda' failed on that. But, while Dejo waited in line for our tickets, I hung out and used the same electrical outlet from last night, to charge my iPhone, and the MiFi.

The trip over to Alpe d'Huez was a series of 3 chairlifts. The first one was a little chilly, but the views of rolling mountaintop meadows were pretty great. Sheer-faced Alps off to our left had our mouths agape. We then changed to another chairlift which took us down a grassy slope, to the edge of a gorge.

And then.

You guys.

Truly Awesome, in the purest definition of the word.

The 3rd chairlift went down into this gorge. And when I say Down, I mean oh-my-Lord-I-don't-have-a-fear-of-heights-but-ai-yi-yi, Please-Lord-let-the-men-who-engineered-this-thing-have-known-what-they-were-doing, I'm-putting-a-lot-of-trust-in-a-€16-ticket Down.

Down. Down. Down. Down-be-doobie-Down.

But wow, was this gorge gorgeous. We went from timberline, above which almost no trees grow, down through really luscious deciduous trees and bushes and flora and a fabulous steep rushing waterfall, down to the bottom of this gorge, and then back up again.

Now, I normally consider myself a) a pretty chatty/wordy/loquacious girl and b) capable of coming up with descriptions when need be. Not now. I got misty-eyed at the sheer beauty of this area, and the trip through it, and found myself thinking, "There's no way I can ever possibly come close to describing this for someone, because the only word that comes to mind – over and over – is Wow.

I feel really badly that I can't bring you all over there, or show you a video or some pictures that could give you any sense of what this was like. However, I also know that there are several of you who would sooner pull off your toenails that go on anything that steep. But Wow.

So, eventually, that very surreal experience ended, and we found ourselves overlooking Alpe d' Huez, and marveling at the sheer number of camping-cars that were covering the mountain. We were both pretty grateful to have found a place to stay that wasn't that zoo-ey. We found the welcome booth where we'd need to pick up our wristbands later in the afternoon, and then went in search of a café for a bit of 2nd breakfast. It had started to sprinkle a bit, then turned into full-on rain, and as I had forgotten my poncho in the car, I picked up one of the overpriced ones at the official merchandise truck. It'll be a nice souvenir, and probably a bit of a conversation starter during the USA Pro Challenge.

We did find a café, which happened to be attached to the local pool, so we went from cold & humid outside, to warm & humid inside. We resisted the temptation to buy Dejo a Speedo from the vending machine, just to say we'd bought a Speedo from a vending machine. It would've been funny, but for €10, we figured we could get almost as much of a laugh by just taking a picture of the machine.

Since we had a couple of hours before we could pick up our wristbands, we decided to find one of the nearby geocaches. The first one we attempted was a bit of a bust. There wasn't any clear path to the right area, and when we happened upon someone's long-term, can't-or-won't pay for lodging, hippie camping, we decide to not trespass. After enjoying some amazing views from a nearby dump for overflow asphalt, we set our sights on a cache somewhere on the slopes of the ski area. Once again, we found ourselves with no clear path or trail, so we went traipsing through the meadow – getting our feet pretty soaked –but did eventually find it. We dropped off a geocoin that we had, which depicts Longs Peak, so we've asked those who find the coin to continue to take it to new heights. We'll see where it ends up. Having made that find successfully, we decided it was time for a little lunch. Somehow, we managed to snag a table at one of the very busy restaurants, and had ourselves a little sammich (no, it was chicken, actually – thanks for asking) and an unintentionally big beer. We didn't linger long, as the vultures were starting to circle.

Up at the welcome booth, we found ourselves in line with a few other people who were waiting for the Custom Getaways guy to arrive with the wristbands. About 15 minutes of conversation ensued before our wristbands were made available, and we all scattered to the various VIP winds. Our wristbands were for the Zone Technique – the technical area. We were allowed back in with the press trucks, finish line, tour organizer trucks, and all the other things that go on behind the scenes. Yup, just wandering around, trying to not trip over the miles of cords, cables and wires that were strung out on the ground. I'm amazed that just because you paid some tour company some money, you're somehow now trustworthy enough to be allowed to meander around millions of dollars worth of equipment. I'm glad it works that way -- I'm just amazed at it.

We managed to not inadvertently unplug anything by walking over it, and found ourselves right amongst the heart of the operations. We set our eye on a spot on the barrier right past the finish line, which – for a mountaintop finish – is a pretty great place to be. This little spot was only 1 piece of barrier long (does that make sense? They normally put together dozens of barrier sections, and this was only 1 section long), and there didn't seem to be much in the way of competition for the vantage point. Still, we decided to take turns scouting out the area, just in case.

There are some pretty cool transformer-type trucks in the fleet. The broadcast trucks are essentially pop-ups, doubling their height when extended. The NBC Sports truck (from which Bob & Steve do their commentary, with the pretty scenery behind them) doubles in height, then extend the top level out to the back. The booth for the finish line judges does similar extend-tricks, and the finish line marquis (which the Orica GreenEdge ran into, on Stage 1) extends from a truck as well. And once again, we were watching the US feed – from our living room receiver – on the iPad, while the guys giving the commentary were literally in the truck next to us. Lots of amazing technology at work here.

After watching Christoph Riblon come across the line, looking truly joyful about it, we moved over to a spot where we could see the podium. Well, until the dignitaries and local muckety-mucks stood in their formation on the side of the stage. Then we could see the outfits they chose for the day. We did catch glimpses of the podium, as well as the French winner being interviewed by the French press, and hugging and mwah-mwah-ing his French Directeur Sportif. And on the other side of the barriers, we could see our favorite rider, Jens Voigt, being interviewed. And who can blame him for just sitting down on the ground against the barrier, after a day like that? Oh – and when his teammate and future star Jan Bakelants tossed his water bottle into the crowd, I scurried over to retrieve it as a trophy for Dejo.

We wanted to make sure we were in line in time to catch the last chairlift back, but as we made our way out of the technical area (opting to cross the creek and walk through the brush, as it was less crowded), we passed the NBC Sports truck again. I waved in its general direction, and said, “Hi Bob, Hi Steve." Dejo said, “Where? Oh, there's Bobke.” I had been sounding a general greeting at the truck as a representation of the commentators, not realizing that Bob Roll was actually standing there. I yelled out to ask if we could get a photo, he nodded Yes, and we scrambled across the creek to get back to the truck. I fished Gnorm out of his home, and explained to Bob that Gnorm was a bit of a cycling fan, and we were showing him around the TdF. He graciously posed for a picture, and we thanked him, saying we'd see him back in Colorado.

We arrived at the chairlift with plenty of time to spare, and got to take that amazing trip in reverse. It was just as spectacular the other direction, if slightly colder. Back at Auris, we battened down the hatches on the campervan, and got on the road, fully prepared for the possibility of a traffic jam of people getting off the mountain.

Again, I love when I worry for no reason.

There was no issue at all on this side of the mountain. Had we made it to Alpe d'Huez and tried to camp there, and get down that day, we would have been lucky to get to the bottom by midnight. As it was, we found ourselves with fairly little company overall (more cyclists than cars), and made it into Briancon by about 8:30 pm. We searched and found a campsite listed just on the other side of town, so we headed that way, and (somewhat surprisingly) found that the reception office was still open. I went in to pay for our place for the night, and the guy helping me offered to speak English, which I welcomed. He spoke very nice English, and we had a bit of a conversation about our travels of France, and his upcoming travels of America. Sebastian was a truly lovely person, and made us feel so welcome – we were a little sad that we couldn't stay longer. As it was, we were hungry, and feeling more than a little grubby (that whole no hot water thing puts a damper on showers). We had sandwiches on marginal bread (but we had already bought it, might as well eat it), and grabbed showers which made us feel human again.

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Photos

Bye, Auris (for now)
Looking back on Auris en Oisan

Down. Way Down.
Looking down into the gorge, off the 3rd lift

NBC Sports truck
Bob & Steve do their commentary from the 2nd level of this

The podium (when we could still see it)
Also a transformer truck

One last look back
From the 2nd chairlift