Chasing views - not the clock

The Salzatal reservoir on the Grimming ride

The blog before this mentioned bike rides to achieve goals; chasing for better times, longer distances and so on. Not all rides are like this. Not even the best rides are like this. There are some bike excursions which are purely to enjoy the fresh air, amazing views and for the great feeling produced by exercise in beautiful surroundings.

Autumn is a marvellous time in Austria’s Alps. Crisp mornings, warm days, crystal clear skies and wonderful colours. As the colder air marches down from the peaks, so the larches in turn change from lighter green to gold in a cascade of colour.

Fabulous autumn colours along the "forbidden" trail through the Salzatal

Two recent rides inspired this blog. One of the routes I wrote about in a blog a couple of years ago. Looking back, it is still one of the best autumn circuits – circling the base of the huge monolithic Grimming mountain. Cruising through neat and tidy open meadows, puffing up a steep trail through golden woods, and bumping along beside a narrow gorge, autumn colours reflected in the lake.

europeanrandonneur.blogspot.com/2015/10/grimming-gorgeous-not-grim.html

The second is in the Salzkammergut – Salzburg’s lake district. Here a network of cycle tracks, well-signed bike routes on tiny, quiet lanes can lead safely in and out of towns and villages while affording fabulous and surprising lake views.

 

The Drachenwand

Austrians are a very organised folk and it appears that most people, regardless of the weather, put their bicycles down into the cellar on October 1 and don’t bring them out until May 1. This means that the cycle routes, busy in summer with families, couples, racers and cruisers, are quiet at this time of year.

 

Early morning sun glitters on the Mondsee while cloud drift down through the valleys

The Mondsee glitters in the early sun. The distant mountains are blue and grey. Great blankets of white fog slither from the connecting valleys down to the water.

The Drachenwand rises like a great ragged tooth from a wreath of white cloud.

The day warms on the approach to the Attersee – a long lake lined on the far side by mountains. The water turquoise, the mountains indigo. The bike trail parallels the lake, but mostly high above the road, ducking and diving and frequently bursting over a ridge to offer up a new vista of lake and mountain.

 

Along the Attersee the bike trail ducks and dives with fabulous views

Finally, at the end of the lake there is just a short hop back to the Mondsee. The bike track skirts the end of the lake and dives into a tunnel – solely for cyclists. It must be nearly one kilometre long, winding back and forth with a few openings for extra lake views.

 

Cycling heaven beside the Attersee

Riding a circuit like this should not be hurried. Stop to admire the views. Ride a bit more. Look back and wonder. You can’t fail to be inspired and thrilled. Yes, it’s the social and scenic rides that are far more memorable than those chasing the clock.

The route returns to the Mondsee with the Drachenwand in the distance



Distance 57km
Ascent 475

The Attersee, clear and blue as in the tropics - but just a little colder

Climbing: what's the attraction?

The Hochkönig towers over Dienten's iconic church

After the euphoria of climbing Pyrenean cols made famous by the Tour de France, (see previous blog) it is easy to forget about the passes on our Alpine doorstep. Riding over a pass so close to home, and not for the first time, it is easy to become blasé. To see it as if for the first time requires a conscious effort.

In this part of Austria, most passes are not as long as the big cols in France. But there are still challenges to overcome which act as a lure, a goal to be scored. “Can I still do it? How will I feel at the top?” It’s so tempting: the satisfaction of ticking off another pass, another few hundred vertical metres. 

The road to our nearest pass begins at the bridge over the Salzach river and immediately begins snaking upward through a deep narrow gorge. The sun doesn’t get down here for much of the year. It is cold and damp. The stream rushes and crashes its way along beside the road.

 

There's always work to be done along the road to Dienten

The climb is steady rather than very steep. The effort soon dispels the chill. While riding it is difficult to see the sky in the narrow gap above your head. The rocks on each side rise almost vertically, then give way to steep wooded hillsides. In winter it is beset by avalanches, and in summer, mudslides and rocks often cause delays. This road is one of the most expensive to maintain in the country.

The trees are gold and bronze. There won’t be many more rides up this road this year. There’s little traffic and none of it on two wheels.

The road rises steadily for 10km to the pretty ski village of Dienten with it’s iconic church against the huge backdrop of the Hochkönig mountain. It’s tempting to stop at the café in the village centre, but better to keep on going.

Before long there’s a choice. Left to the Filzen Sattel at 1290m or right to the Dientner Sattel a bit higher. Either way it is steep – the next few kilometres rise at up to 14% - steeper than many French passes. Turning left, is the route taken recently by Iron Man contestants and markings urging riders to dig deep are still visible.

After a kilometre or so, it looks as if the summit is around the next bend. Alas, the road keeps on climbing and climbing until finally it eases off just before the top.

 

Goal achieved

The summit of the Filzen Sattel pass isn’t something to get excited about. A small car park filled with hikers’ cars and a sign marking the altitude…and that’s it. No café, no cyclists comparing heart rate records. A bit of an anti-climax. But a goal has been achieved and this is always a good feeling.

Profile of the circular route over the Filzen Sattel

Mountain views just as impressive as in France

There are bike rides and bike rides. Some are just a pleasant saunter through the countryside. But rides with goals are different – whether the goal is a distance, an average speed, a time or ticking off another few hundred altitude meters. And at this time of year there’s not much time left to meet annual targets.

The road onwards down to Maria Alm is a joy. Steep, smooth and sinuous it drops at 15% with tight bends that invite throwing caution to the wind. The ride back to the start along tiny lanes, through farming hamlets and along the beautiful lake at Zell am See, make the remains of the ride just a pleasant saunter through the countryside – goal successfully scored.

 

The circuit includes a ride along the lake at Zell am See

The facts:

Complete circuit 70km

Vertical ascent 880m

Provence or Pyrenees? - it's a tough choice

Provence: Sunrise over the Mont Ventoux

Watching the sun rise over the Mont Ventoux, and surrounded by vineyards, it is easy to feel that Provence is the ultimate corner of the world for people who love to ride bicycles. But there is another corner of France that has an equal claim to being cycling heaven.

The Midi Pyrenees encompass the gigantic peaks in the centre of the mountain chain which runs from the Atlantic to the Mediterranean coasts. Here there are a dozen opportunities for bike rides each of which rival the Mont Ventoux in every way. In some respects they leave the Gigant du Provence far behind.

 

Midi Pyrenees: huge landscapes and thousands of sheep

At each end of the chain the mountains are smaller and the character of each area is unique. Close to the Atlantic is Basque country. Another language, another culture but with many tiny roads just begging to be pedalled along. The passes are lower but a pleasure to ride.

The Mediterranean end of the range is similar but instead of the rugged “basqueness” there is the warmth and flair for which the south of France is famous.

The Midi Pyrénées is real mountain country though the foothills have plenty of narrow winding roads, small villages and minor challenges. From the small town of Argelés Gazost there are enough classic rides to create memories for a lifetime. The names have been made famous by countless Tour de France heroes:

 

Pyrenees: Col de L'Aubisque - 

Some are passes and some end at the head of a valley, Cautorets and the magnificent Cirque du Gavarnie - the gigantic wall of great grey mountains.

The Hautacam summit with its steep narrow road has endless views along the valley from Argelés to Luz St-Saveur at the foot of the biggest climb of all, the Col du Tourmalet. This is one of those roads where soon after the start you can see the top and most of the road up to it. Is this a good thing? Opinions differ, but it's certainly good to look down from the top of the 2115m pass. However the top of the Tourmalet itself is something of a disappointment. The road reaches its crest and immediately drops down the other side. There's hardly room to park a bike.

 

Pyrenees: the road from the Col du Soulor to the Col de L'Aubisque

In contrast, the Col du Soulor and its big brother the Col de l’Aubisque, sit in awe-inspiring scenery.  The road up begins directly in Argelés Gazost rising fairly gently at first and then with a steady 7 - 8% winding through woods. It breaks into the open shortly before the top of the Col du Solour at 1474m. Here is open ground with massive peaks rising behind.

From the road ahead the view to the peaks above and downwards to the valley is so huge, so massive that one feels dwarfed. The word awesome is overused but here it hardly does justice to the scale. The road drops for a kilometer or two along a narrow ledge scraped out of the mountainside. There’s a huge drop off to the right, and not much to prevent instant flight. Next a gentle climb steepening to 8%. Houses in the valley below appear no bigger than individual Lego bricks. The rolling open grassland is dotted with a thousand scraggy sheep.

 

Pyrenees: Col de l'Aubisque , a classic climb

This is a classic climb. 30km from Argelés. A climb of 1247 vertical metres. The Col is at 1709m but the peaks rear up around you. You might be feeling a lot of things at the moment you arrive - but one of them will be small. The scale of your surroundings will put you in your place.

 

Pyrenees: vertiginous drops and soaring peaks - col de l'Aubisque

Compare this with the Mont Ventoux, the road from Bedouin is 21km with a total of 1639m vertical difference. More climbing over a shorter distance.

So, Pyrenees or Provence? After a week of grey skies and cold showers in the mountains, a ride in the southern sun, with the scent of rosemary from the hedgerows through villages of pale sand-coloured houses and vineyards heavy with the next vintage, it is tempting to choose Provence…

 

Provence: sunshine, vineyards, olive groves and the Mont Ventoux

…but think back to that feeling of awe, insignificance and achievement at the top of these great, legendary Pyrenean Cols...

Pyrenees: magnificent mountains and traditional life

Provence: Both pictures of the Mont Ventoux were taken from the Auberge du Vin in Mazan a brilliant base for riding in Provence. Great breakfasts and excellent coffee.

Midi Pyrenees: The tiny Logis Hotel le Cabaliros in Arcizans Avant is a good base for this area - but it is up on a hill!

How does your ride measure up?

The climb begins - Alpe d'Huez. Ratio: 42.1hm/km

Do you ever finish a shortish ride and wonder why you feel so knackered? Maybe it has nothing to do with speed or about your condition but about the climb-to-distance ratio.

Here in Austria, rides are often measured in Höhenmeter (hm), which is the vertical ascent, as being more significant than the actual distance covered. But that is only half the story.

After years of living in the Alps, and years of riding in mountainous areas, the idea of calculating the amount of climbing per kilometre pedalled, only recently came to mind while grinding up part of a circuit that seemed to have far more uphill than down.

 

Lonely climbs in the heart of Sardinia. Ratio: 21.5hm/km

By dividing the vertical ascent by the total distance, I came up with a figure of 19.3 meters of climbing per kilometer. Looking at this compared with the average for the year to date I could see why I was puffing a bit: over the past 3000km, the ratio was just 6.4hm/km (hm is for Höhenmeter – vertical ascent).

2017 seems to have been an easier year than the previous four; for each of those the ratio has averaged just over 8hm/km. This year has been skewed by a 750km ride along the incredibly flat Weser and Fulda bike trails in Germany.

 

It's easy to see why riding the Weser is popular. Ratio: 0.3hm/km

Looking back at some of the days ridden on tours this year gives a different picture of the terrain – and how tough (or not) the days really were considering they are done on bikes carrying a moderate load:

Average for the year to date                          6.4 hm/km

Day rides:

Austria, Steinberg Circuit                              12.9 hm/km

Austria, Enns Radweg, Altenmarkt – Steyr   14,0 hm/km

Sardinia, Alghero – Bosa                               19.1 hm/km

Sardinia, Bosa – Pozzomaggiore                   21,5 hm/km

Germany, Weser: Bremerhaven – Bremen     0,3 hm/km

A couple of big Tour de France specialities, completed in recent years when calculated with the distance for the climb and descent, are good for comparison:

France: Sault - Mont Ventoux - Sault             26.4 hm/km
                           but for the climb only           52 hm/km

France: Bourg d’Oisans - Alpe d’Huez           42.1 hm/km 
                          but for the climb only            84 hm/km

The mysteriously barren landscape at the top of the Mont Ventoux. Ratio 26.4hm/km

So it is clear to see why Germany’s 500 km Weser cycle route between Bremerhaven and Hann Munden is one of the most popular. Why so many people find an e-bike necessary on this flattest of trails is a mystery.

A short 28 km circuit from home shows a climb-to-distance ratio of 24hm/km which makes me feel a bit more justified in feeling knackered at the end. The final 5km is all up hill with much of it at 12%, which really is a sting in the tail.

Whether any of this makes sense, has any relevance or is even statistically sound, I don’t know. But doing these calculations is a way of occupying the mind when plodding slowly up a long hill. What do you do to take your mind of the grind?

For blogs on this site for these routes:

• Flat out along the Weser     - June 2017
• Sardinia 1, 2 3,                    - May 2017
• Mont Ventoux, take it easy - September 2015

What do you do to take your mind off the grind?