Streets? We Ain't Got No Stinking Streets! (100 km)

---

The possibility of riding the highest paved road in Europe proved irresistible so most of us took a pass on today's nominal route (and its possibility of bagging 4 cols in one day) in favour of attacking the Col (and Cime) de la Bonette. With 7 km of backtracking to Jausiers as a warmup, we started the 23 km climb into the unknown. I'll let the photos speak for themselves.

We took the descent in stages so we could try and warm up occasionally: we were so cold that our shivering induced scary speed wobbles. Once the sun finally emerged and we lost some altitude, things got a lot more fun.

We ended up descending enough that we had a 9 km climb back up to Roure to end the day (a little longer for those who like me did not see the over-the-shoulder sign for the turnoff and consequently sailed past it. The signs indicating Nice was only 66 downhill kms away tempted a few, but no one succumbed). Still it could have been worse: fortunately, Barry's map had more detail than the one in our tour package or I would never have known D130 stopped a few kms short of actually intersecting with D2205.

Once in Roure I followed the road until it dead-ended by some starirs - it turns out Roure has no streets, only narrow pathways and staircases. I guess they don't have to worry about drive-by shootings that way.

And since the town had no other commercial establishments the hotel had us captive for dinner - a six-course gourmet meal that included pigeon and cost as much as the room.

---

Photos

starting-to-get-into-the-real-climb
Note the tiny cyclists

getting-colder
He's hard to spot, but Barry's there.

the-long-cold-road-up
And we're not even at the steep part yet.

not-quite-an-impasse
Just walk your bike around it on the knife ridge. Then ride the 13-14% grade to the top

chilling-on-the-way-down
Rick didn't hang out on top so he's still relatively warm.

a-warmer-part-of-the-incredible-descent
At one point I grudgingly had to brake for a motorcyclist ahead of me; the rider was an old fart.