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Published: March 19th 2018
Not only am I actually writing this Tuesday from Valloire, but I really should mention the fine meal we had Sunday night in Les Saisies: the hotelier even provided several huge bowls of pasta gratis, since he understood the caloric demands of cyclists. Now on to recapturing Monday's events (photos to be added as I catch up)...
As feared, snow conditions caused us to scramble to change plans, and fortunately we were able to secure accommodations to replace the ones we had booked in Val d'Isere (that were now completely inaccessible). So rather than sleeping high up, we would be sleeping near the river in the valley. New directions to our new destination were written up, and copies distributed. This should have resulted in a ridiculously easy day, starting with a 30 km descent from Les Saisies to Albertville (which hosted the Olympics in 1992), and then just following the river upstream to St. Jean de Maurienne (which hosted Le Tour in 2010). Since the hotel breakfast was twice what we had been accustomed to paying (although apparently worth it, according to the lone person who stayed for it), and since the ride to town was all downhill, most of
us opted to descend before eating (I hedged and ingested a PowerBar Triple Threat bar to take the edge off, just in case).
The morning was glorious and I was really enjoying the descent (with the road basically empty because it was so early, I could carve turns like the pros) when I had to come to a full stop - for cows being herded not merely across, but up the road. Since the car in front of me had GB markings, once the road reopened it proved easy to pass and resume my unrestricted zooming, or so I thought. I was just getting back into my rhythm when I flew around one corner and literally had to slam on the brakes and come to a skidding stop to avoid a truck blocking the entire road - the driver had to make a multi-point turn in order to negotiate the switchback. Worse yet, after I got by him I noticed lots of cow patties on the road, and while I didn't want to find out, I assumed they would not enhance traction, so I
was a little more conservative thereafter. I have cycled past manure spreaders before, but this was the first time I had encountered the walking variety in such numbers.
As the morning wore on and we got closer to Albertville, traffic increased as people were driving to work (I supposed). No matter - with a proposed relatively short day and the weather fine, I decided to explore Albertville a bit, and eventually hooked up with 2 others of a similar mindset, and we breakfasted nicely at a convenience store. It is an indication of how my diet has been affected by choices here, that in addition to a chocolate-filled croissant I also had not just a banana but a carrot as well (thanks to Barry for having noticed their availability and buying one for himself first. We hadn't talked about it but I had actually been craving carrots all morning).
We set off and eventually got back on track, and once it became apparent my modest plan of exerting so little effort I wouldn't perspire could not be effected - it was getting damned hot - I sped off on my own. We had previously noted we were to
stay on the highway we were on for 50 km before our next turn. As it turned out, we (and almost everyone else who read the directions) were wrong. I'll spare the details of how that occurred, but at least I noticed the signs were no longer mentioning St. Jean and chose to backtrack before I ended up in Grenoble.
It turned out the road we were to take was a busy truck route, and as we coalesced at a grocery store, Barry's map (the rest of us rely on our tour's information only, but he likes to be more independent) was consulted and the decision was made to explore the smaller roads that paralleled the highway (at least in overall direction, if likely not in elevation). Sure enough, our first deviation started with a climb and then a short but steep and straight - I hit my maximum speed of the day at 59.9 kph - descent, and we did enjoy some quiet travel through an industrial park before being shunted back to the highway. At that point I figured I would just continue on the main road, since it was quite similar to riding in Canada except
that the road surface was rougher, the cars were louder (diesel), and the drivers more courteous. Oh, and then the wind picked up. Fiercely.
So I struggled to drag my butt into St. Jean and found our improvised accommodation - a classic French hotel, which is to say it had no elevator or air conditioning, and there was a W.C. at the end of the hall for us to share. Since the van hadn't yet arrived - it was being used for route research for the next day - I just settled in and waited for more people to make it in, and to hear if they had made the same error I had. To greater or lesser degrees (I added only an extra 20 km to the day, one group added 40) they had.
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