With nothing much to write about in Chamonix this week (the weather is hot, sunny and err hot, and both the town and trails are hoaching; Les Houches, Le Tour and GM trails are all holding up well, if a bit dusty; Flegere is OK but really needs the loose stones swept off it; rained a bit today which should improve grip, but the forecast is scorchio for the next week), I thought I’d put up a wee write up on the Tour du Mont Blanc which legendary (or at least infamous) Scottish biker Sanny & I did in September 2012. If you’ve got any questions or want some advice on the tour, ask away in the comments field.

Mont Blanc’s a fairly big deal in France, they’re quite proud of it. It was the biggest mountain in Europe till the Caucasus joined in, but it’s still the highest in Western Europe. As a result, people flock to Chamonix to climb, descend, fly over, jump off and travel around Mont Blanc. All of these are possible with a bike, but only travelling around is anything less than contrived.

The circumnavigation, known as the Tour du Mont Blanc or TdMB, usually takes walkers six to twelve days, staying in the huts, refuges and hotels that line the route. It’s also the venue for the “Ultra Trail Mont Blanc”, a non-stop race around the TdMB, the winner generally coming in at around the 20hr mark… It’s had a fair bit of attention from mountain bikers too, with umpteen companies offering guided circuits of 4 – 6 days, usually in a clockwise direction to maximise its rideability, but diverging from the route taken by walkers. After much pouring over maps, we thought we’d found a route that stayed fairly close to the “normal” Tour du Mont Blanc route, whilst maximising the amount of rideable, singletrack descending, with the least pain in the ascent. At 100 miles, with about 21,000 foot of climbing, we would need a fair bit of time to get round. We had 3 days. Best get a move on.

Obviously, for a ploy such as this, a reliable and competent companion is required.  Some say he can spot un-ridden trails from space and that he once told a joke so offensive, even Frankie Boyle was appalled. All we know is; he’s called Sanny.

So with a plan, a Sanny and an almost perfect weather forecast we rolled out of Chamonix a little after 8am. Unfortunately we then had to ride the wrong way up the hill to reclaim some gear from a friend’s house before we could get going, but who doesn’t start a long ride with a bit of faff?

Meters Climbed: 0

Meters Singletrack descended: 0

The first half of the day was all about covering miles quickly and easily, so a short spin down the road to Les Houches before letting the Bellevue Cablecar take 700m of strain off our legs and take us up to the Col du Voza. Descending on a mix of fast fire road and single lane tarmac through bucolic alpine villages had us making time incredibly easy. Stopping outside Les Contamines to eat some of the leftovers of last night’s Midnight Express takeaway, the first talk of a 2 day circuit was had.

Our enthusiasm was curbed by the start of the climbing proper outside of Notre dame de la Gorge, the transition from spinning away in the middle ring to grovelling in the granny was pretty harsh, but progress was being made and it seemed like an excellent idea to stop at the Refuge Nant Borant for some soup, ice cream and a rest before getting properly stuck in to our first proper alpine pass….

Meters Climbed: 416

Meters Singletrack descended: 0

….’Do you remember the 1^st time?’ I don’t think any of the members of Pulp are mountain bikers, but even if you’ve ridden a bit in the alps, your 1^st alpine pass is different, you’ve sweated to get there, not ridden a chair. Slowly your horizon has been less rock and more sky then a whole new set of hills to play in appear, and the possibilities start running through your mind: there’s Les Arcs, I could ride there, and the Gran Paradiso, and.

The Col de la Bonhomme at 2329m is not quite the highest point, but it did mark where you can get back on the bike and start contouring round to the Col du la Croix de Bonhomme (2479m). From here the map had shown a single black dashed line dropping to the Refuge La Nova 930m below, suggesting an awesome singletrack descent, but as Sanny and I both knew, maps can tease, hint, prompt and even promise, but they don’t always deliver.

This one did, laid out in front of us and snaking through the terrain like in all the best photos. We dropped the saddles & headed down. Jarvis Cocker was wrong, it was brilliant…..

Meters Climbed:  1468

Meters Singletrack descended: 930

….. What goes down must come up. We’d been steadily climbing to La Ville des Glaciers for about 20mins from the Refuge La Nova, where we’d discovered that spaghetti will not be served after 3pm. As a Cat 2 road climb, there wasn’t really any other option but to steadily climb and unfortunately my hopes that the narrowness of the road would allow me to stop and get off whenever a car approached was scuppered by the genial motorists driving into the ditch to let us past. I was busy contemplating the strange noise that was emanating from my rear hub when Sanny pointed off the side of the road and politely suggested in Glaswegian that I look. Slowly gliding (soaring sounds more majestic, but really, this was the avian equivalent of a stroll down the shops) about 15 foot away was an eagle of at least 6 foot wingspan. There was no time for getting the camera out, it was just one of those moments you get every so often on a bike when you could savour nature, flora & fauna, and appreciate it for what it was, a bit like the days before we had to document in 1’s and 0’s our every movement. Just as the bird was fading from view, and the camera would have been lowered, its’ mate flew by. That would’ve been an awesome photo. Bugger.…

Meters Climbed: 1568

Meters Singletrack descended: 930

……Should I stay or should I go? Sanny and I were stopped having a discussion about continuing on over into Italy, or stopping for the day in France. It was a 650m climb up the 2516m Col du Salena and then down to the Refuge Elisabetta Soldini, we’d hopefully knock it out fairly quickly, arriving in before the dinner cut-off time of 1900 and getting well ahead of schedule for tomorrow. But then again, the forecast was for an overnight storm starting in the late afternoon, the clouds and wind were building and some peals of thunder had been heard, suggesting that continuing may not be such a great idea. Our decision was made for us when the Refuge des Mottets came into view, and was decidedly closed looking. We swore, secretly pleased that the choice was out of our hands even if it wasn’t the one we wanted, and stoically climbed on.

For 20 meters.

Below us, the Refuge des Mottets was very much open. We had mistaken a sheep herder’s house for a 70 bed hut. There was no debate this time, we went to see what they were serving for tea….

Meters Climbed: 1789

Meters Singletrack descended: 930

….. Day two – the tortoise and the hare. On the climb out of the Refuge des Mottets we’d been swapping stories and jokes with an Andorran trail-runner, out for a gentle jaunt around Mont Blanc. As he was on foot and we were mostly carrying our bikes it was only to be expected that he would say his farewells and trot off into the distance, on the flat and descents we would easily be quicker.

Sure enough, we met him again as we dropped into Italy, the descent at first on open foot worn tracks with natural berms for every twist, then as we neared the refuge a wide 4×4 track which gave us the chance to fully appreciate what must be the most spectacular valley in the alps, Val Veni. Only then the front shifter on Sannys bike jammed.

We stopped and faffed.

Saying Hi as he passed, the Andorran caught up.

Sanny continuing with the new fashionable 1×10 set up for the rest of the trip, we caught our friend again, with another chat.

Did I mention Val Veni is spectacular? You can’t ride down it and not stop for photos. We said Hi again.

In the kids fable, the sure and steady tortoise eventually beats the impetuous hare. In real life, there was no such doubt as to the winner of the race. As we started the push up from the valley floor towards the Youla bowl we waved him off and could only wonder where he finished for the day….

Meters Climbed: 2435

Meters Singletrack descended: 1161

…..Descent espresso Our legs were starting to feel the effort of the last 12hr culmative riding, however there’s nothing quite like a movie perfect piece of trail to take your mind off them. I’d hoped the descent into Courmayeur would be worth the detour from the fast track along the valley floor, but I never thought it could be as good as it was.

Starting in the high alpine, the trail gently curved along the hillside, under the peaks used for the skiing Freeride World Tour. Eventually the trail started to swoop through thinly spaced trees, gradually thickening, but still keeping the fast and pumpy  feel . The briefest of climbs at the Col Checrouit passed without changing gear before Courmayeur appeared below us. Heading down the steeper winter pistes on a more switchbacky section of singletrack, we steadily lost height before more tree lined singletrack brought us out onto a 4×4 track Gaining speed on the fast and loose surface, plenty of JMC tribute hairpin drifts were had before the final section was spotted dropping off the edge of a bend.

Hard breaking, hanging off the back of the bike technical riding followed before we were spat out across the river from Courmayeur where the trail finished with some urban descending through narrow cobbled streets and down flights of steps. 1180 vertical meters and one of the best descents I’ve ever ridden, made even better by the obligatory stop for Italian food and drink.  Pizzas all round…..

Meters Climbed: 2830

Meters Singletrack descended: 2346

…..Tick, Tick, Tick. Boom. Yesterday’s odd noise from the rear hub had now manifested itself as something worse. On the descent into Courmayeur the free hub had started to occasionally stick meaning I had to keep pedalling to stop the chain dropping into the spokes, not a good thing less than half way round. Now, part way along Italian Val Ferret, I discovered there was enough friction in the hub to stop the wheel free turning after only a couple of rotations. This was why Sanny was a spec in the distance & enjoying himself whilst I grovelled my way up, nothing to do with him being fitter and me being on the verge of blowing. Knowing that it was a steady sit down and spin climb to the Elena Refuge, 880m above  Courmayeur, where I could buy coke, or beer, or even coke & beer, was pretty much all that was keeping me going.

The Elena refuge had closed that morning.

Sanny valiantly attempted to persuade them to re-open, using words that would’ve impressed British, German & French dockers, but not Italian. Probably why the doors didn’t open. There was nothing for it but to start pushing and humpfing the bikes up to Col Grand Ferret…..

Meters Climbed: 4187

Meters Singletrack descended: 2346

….Lucky cows. The drop into Switzerland from Grand Col Ferret had lived up to the standards we were now coming to expect, but there’d been nothing extra marking it out as special like the Bonhomme, Seigne & Courmayeur descents. We were nearing (or so we thought) the end of the singletrack & the Swiss Val Ferret road end where we would make speedy progress down the tarmac when, without thinking, we swung left.

The path got narrower & took us along the valley, torn between concentrating on the narrow ribbon of trail & looking at the brilliantly named Marmontains hills around us. Eventually we started to head upwards &, with the road head now on the other side of the valley & some distance behind us, I accepted it may be time to consult the map. We’d taken the ‘wrong’ trail. Fortunately ‘wrong’ is a matter of perspective. The map showed the dashed black line would eventually rejoin the road just outside La Fouly, it was an easy choice to keep going.

“This is perfect singletrack”

Sanny was struggling to believe our luck.

“I told you the trails were better in Switzerland”

however he was still able to advance his argument of Verbier’s superiority to Chamonix trails. The trail did put forward a pretty good case. Quite how a trail so rideable, with so much flow, came to exist naturally I don’t know, but those Swiss cows obviously have more riding nous than we thought…..

Meters Climbed: 4227

Meters Singletrack descended: 3323

…..Fitter, happier and more productive. We arrived in La Fouly at 1805, hungry. With the in-built navigation system that suggests mountain bikers share more DNA with pigeons than most, we instantly found the village shop.

“Désole, il a  ferme a dix-huit heure”

Our looks of desperation were correctly interpreted and, before we had even begun to explain that you do not tell hungry Glaswegians they canny have the food infront of them, we were waved in with a “vite, vite!” Vite we were and moments later were consuming the traditional village shop bounty of bananas, chocolate and biscuits. With the first tier of Maslow’s hierarchy of needs satisfied we looked to the second, shelter. Sanny was all for pushing on down the road to Champex, but he was still feeling fit and had ridden the trails here before. I was not and had not, so was making the argument for stopping, happy to have the longer day tomorrow. Only where would we stay in La Fouly? I looked left and saw we were stood next to the Auberge I’d pencilled in for that nights stay. It seemed foolish to resist….

Meters Climbed: 4227

Meters Singletrack descended: 3323

……It was a proper lightbulb moment! I don’t know what inspired it, the amazing breakfast or the surreal sculptures of the “walk of the mushrooms”  but suddenly a chain of thought occurred to me – the freehub’s knackered & I don’t want to walk back to Chamonix, high torque will only make it worse, straining up a hill in the granny ring is high torque. Therefore, I can get off and push up the hills and it’s not because the hill has defeated me, I am being a mature, reasoned rider- Get in!

The breakfast was quite likely the cause of such genius thought. After the previous day’s misadventure where neither of us ate enough, we weren’t going to make the same mistake twice. “They have four types of cereal” may not be a statement to excite a seasoned business traveller, accustomed to the Hilton chains’ finest continental buffet breakfast, but most hut breakfasts consist of jam, stale bread and a bowl of coffee. “I’m eating all of them” declared Sanny and then did with much gusto. The couple next to us, walking the TdMB in a brisk 6 days, were chatting with us when conversation stopped & a look of joy spread across the man’s face. “you have to try the Ovaltiny!” we did “it’s like Maltesers, in a paste, on bread” A few sachets may have been purloined from the table for later in the day. Suitably fed and watered we’d waddled upstairs, collected our gear,   grabbed our bikes and headed out for our final day on the trail….

Meters Climbed: 4247

Meters Singletrack descended: 3895

……Bovine, bull. The Bovine climb up from Champex has something of a reputation. it was one of the main reasons for us choosing to ride anti-clockwise on the TDMB and so hike the bikes up rather than carry them down this section. Out of Champex; possibly the most perfect Swiss village with its lake, clean quaint streets and cold war gun emplacements, a cunning detour kept us climbing on fire road, interspaced with short sharp descending on rooty single-tech trails. After gaining 200m , the fire road stopped and the trail began. It took us about 90 mins of hike a bike to get over this section, but it’s really not that bad. A few awkward steps to overcome, but nothing like the hell it had been suggested by the irritatingly smug guide back in La Fouly.

It would be an interesting descent for sure and you’d want either Danny Hart or McAskill’s bikes (I assume you get the skill free when you buy the bike, that’s how it works isn’t it?) as the trail varies between full on rock garden DH to super precise trials between boulders. Definitely a challenge, and not one I’d want on a multi day ride with a light bike and heavy rucksack. There’s a reason every guided mtb route that goes clockwise misses this section out.

At the opposite end of the scale, once we’d finished dragging the bikes up the bovine climb, the trail abruptly turned 90 degrees right and flattened out, we got back on the bikes for that rarest of incidences, a trail that rides better up hill than down. Part of this may have been that instead of staring at our feet, we were now looking across the Rhone valley, over Verbier and Crans Montana, and even out onto Lake Geneva, a view much easier to appreciate at uphill than downhill pace. Or maybe it was just the excitement of getting to ride the bikes rather than carry them! The rewards weren’t done yet either. Sanny had been briefed on how good the descent from Bovine down to the Col du Forclaz was, and I had a cheeky little track to get us from there down to Trient.

With stunning views and blue skies, we set off down yet another cracking descent. Compared to the previous wooded descents it was much faster riding, with natural rollers setting the bike light into corners, lots of short sharp pedalling to make the most of the banked inside corners, and short sharp braking to steady the nerves on the unbanked, unprotected outside corners! All interspaced with sections of steeper and rootier terrain that needed the levers most of the way to the bar to negotiate, or in Sanny’s case, all the way to the bar as his bike had picked today to give up….

Meters Climbed: 5448

Meters Singletrack descended: 4844

……All over bar the eating.  I’d enjoyed the climb, the first of the route where I’d ridden the entire thing from metre 0 to metre 800. Just as well too, as it was the last of the route. Sanny hadn’t faired so well. A big crash the previous week had smashed a full face lid and front wheel, also resulting in some very tender ribs. His back was now coming out in sympathy and he was fairly relieved to see the Col du Posettes. Most people are. Even if you live in the valley, the view is something else. First the Chardonet comes into view, wow, what a mountain, then a little higher the Aiguille Vert & Dru’s, you forget the Chardonnet, look at them mountains! Then you get to see Mont Blanc itself, the axis for the ride. At this distance you really appreciate just how big it is. After the compulsory photo stop (go there, see the bit of trail, you’ll understand) we set off up for the final 100m or so of real climbing to the start of our last descent, which I knew wasn’t going to disappoint.

Meters Climbed: 6241

Meters Singletrack descended: 4844

The Aiguille des Posettes trail is well known by Chamonix bikers. I’ll admit to selling it a little short to Sanny, partly as the Chamonix v Verbier propaganda war, and partly because the first section promises more than it delivers with regular drainage bars crossing the trail.

As the trail goes below the tree line, the bars stop and the riding gets better and better. Sanny was clearly enjoying it, but something was holding him back. His bike had become increasingly niche and, to compliment the 1×10 gearing (barely indexed now due to bent mech hanger) and cantilever esque braking, the forks had reduced in travel to 45mm to go with the 145mm at the back, all with a super steep headtube angle. A bit like a Proflex from the mid ‘90’s really. These problems couldn’t take the shine off the descent as we rolled through Frasserands & joined the Petit Balcon Nord for the mostly DH cruise into Chamonix where we could begin consuming our own bodyweight in junk food and beer. Even the degregration of Sannys bike, with the bolt through axle & saddle disintegrating on the way through town couldn’t stop us now…

Meters Climbed: 6351

Meters Singletrack descended: 5764

So what were the final scores?

Over the 3 days and 3 countries we’d ridden almost 150km, climbed 6351m and descended 5764m of singletrack. Broken 1 spoke, 1 rear hub, 1 saddle, 1 rear mech hanger, 1 front shifter unit, 1 fork, 2 brakes and had no punctures. Taken a combined 870 Photos and eaten more than we normally would in a week.

Only you can’t measure a trip like this in figures:  It’s about the feeling of travelling a proper distance, one you can see on a big scale map; of not having to get back to the starting point that afternoon, but keeping going; and seeing the landscape change.

I’d aimed to get as much quality singletrack descending in without straying too much from the Cols and valleys taken by the normal walkers route, but never expected that the quality of the riding could be so consistently high.

So what are you waiting for…