Grande Traversée du Jura: Day 6

The final day, and allegedly one of the toughest to complete my 153km traverse. Compounded by the storm that has blown in overnight, I am filled with trepidation as I seal my clothing in preparation for the journey ahead…

I leave Le Manon for the mountain village of Bellecombe or 'beautiful bowl', which may be a beautiful bowl but is currently filled with misty soup, the occasional farmhouse-crouton and pine-tree-lardons. This open pasture winds its way alongside the limestone crest of the Haute Jura chain which occasionally pokes through the sleet filled clouds. After a steady climb I reach the high point just under the Cret au Merle (1448m), I know now that the end of the journey nears.

To complete this fantastic journey, I make a gradual descent through the forest to the trail end, near but not quite, at Giron. A knee-aching two-kilometre hike to the village was draining. My heart sank further when I am informed that there are no taxis to take me to the train station, a further 23km away. As I contemplate my next move over a sandwich and a cold fruity local beer, a random act of kindness is bestowed upon me. A lady called Florence overheard my troubles and, unbeknownst to me, asks the family at the next table, who were just leaving, if they will take me to the train station. They kindly agree. Within moments I have swallowed a sandwich, necked a cold beer, paid, said thank you to everyone in the room and am sat in the back of a family wagon, wedged between two sixteen year olds as we zig-zag down the hill towards Bellegarde-sur-Valserine. The family are truly delightful and it is a shame that the journey only lasts thirty-minutes.

Safely on the train, I take the time to reflect on my journey. In this quiet corner of France, amidst a weather beaten Gallic culture cut off for centuries from both France and Switzerland, it is not unusual to ski all day without seeing anyone else. This is a unique trip and a true journey on skis, where the enigmatic landscapes will captivate and reward even the most seasoned of traveller. The charm of places like the Jura lies in what they are definitively not: resorts designed to push as many people through the slopes as possible. And what is most striking about the Jura is the sense of how its small and charming ski resorts feel such a part of the local community and the landscape. For those reasons, I will be back.

Distance: 28km

https://www.relive.cc/view/2183650842

Grande Traversée du Jura: Day 5

Leaving Les Rousses via a complex network of pistes towards Premanon, the home to the French National Nordic Ski School and where several Olympic champions have come from. En-route I am passed in quick order by two members of the French national team on skating skis and by various high-speed pensioners, but, on the whole, the trail was spookily quiet. I cross more meadows and weave between roads to enter the Forêt du Massacre.

The forest houses some of the oldest fir trees in France and is named after an ancient battle in the area. A steady well-graded climb brings me to the high point of the whole journey, the delightful Chalet La Frasse (1400m) in the heart of the forest which I ski past before realising that they sold cake and beer… Too late! I was already enjoying some of the best skiing on the entire route on my rolling descent towards the delightful village of Lajoux. From there it was only a short stretch until I reach my overnight in the rustic hamlet of Le Manon.

Distance: 25km

https://www.relive.cc/view/2181554099

Grande Traversée du Jura: Day 4

A few steps from my accommodation, I take to the trails once more and initially ski towards Bellefontaine before leaving the crowds behind and starting to climb into the Forêt Risoux - home to the famous wood needed to make the stradavarius violins.

Higher up, the terrain flattened out at last before the descent towards the village of Les Rousses. If there is an advantage to getting tired on cross-country skis, it is that you forget to think too hard about your balance and relax into the downhill. It is at these time that I realise why this region is known colloquially as ‘le pays qui respire' (the country with breathing space).

I wind my way along the well pressed trails to the outskirts of Les Rousses where the last of the snow has clung to the trail despite the strength of the baking February sun. Skis off my feet and on my shoulder, I wander into town to find a hotel for the night…

Distance: 21km

https://www.relive.cc/view/2179178336

Grande Traversée du Jura: Day 3

Once again I journey into fabulous pine woods and through soon-to-be summer meadows. Reaching an open area of sparse trees beside the track, I set off across a large clearing of soft hummocks. The only people I saw was a small party on snow shoes until I got closer to the nordic ski centre at Pre Poncet. For the next three days I follow the race course of the world famous Transjurassienne. This will go someway to explain the many lycra-clad racing teams whizzing pasts me at high speeds.

I leave the racing track behind and venture once more into the forest. Snaking through the tightly forested slopes offer more challenging descents and I eventually pop out in the wide glaciated valley of the Combe des Cives. The terrain angle eases and I trudge the rest of the way to Chappelle des Bois for an early finish to consume my daily diet of local hams and Morteau sausage, honey beer and the extraordinary liqueur de sapin, an aperitif produced in nearby Pontarlier whose distinctive flavour comes from pine-shoot tips.

Distance: 19.5km

https://www.relive.cc/view/2176483432

Grande Traversée du Jura: Day 2

The short steep climb from Longeville-Mont-d’Or takes me back off the beaten track into the ‘Doubs’ region, where I ski under the flanks of the highest summit in the region, Mont d’Or (1463m). I ascend through pine forest on good trails and enjoy skiing gently downhill to Mouthe. My descent enjoyable descent is at one point rudely interrupted as I learn a hard lesson. Where the sun has warmed up parts of the slope which makes the snow became sticky and throws me violently to the ground. Lesson learned, I will watch out for this in future...

As I enter the final forested slope before arriving in Mouthe, before me lay a steep icy chute to reach the main traversing track. With my heart in my mouth, I begin the descent, I quickly pick up speed and no matter how hard I brake, I continue to pick up speed! Add to this the fact that every time I crossed a line of sun on the snow, my body tenses as I prepare for the possibility of being slammed to the ground again. All of this make this short section easily the most terrifying ten minutes I have spent on skis.

With legs like jelly, I finally reach Mouthe and La Source du Doubs. There is a sting in the tail today as a final 2km climb takes me to my accommodation at the family run 'gîte' Chez Liadet for the night. It was hardworking to ski uphill, but well worth it.

Distance: 27km

https://www.relive.cc/view/2174525649

Grande Traversée du Jura: Day 1

As I am balanced precariously in a downward dog stance in the middle of an icy country road, poles in hand and skis on feet, I wonder why I did not stick with Plan A. I stare backwards between my legs and notice the rapidly approaching small red Swiss car and curse myself for changing my mind. Plan A was obviously the right choice. That is why it was Plan A!

Sometimes you choose to visit a ski resort for thrillingly shallow reasons: because bits of it are steep or deep or long; because of where it is; because of its reputation. At other times, the attraction is more subtle. The main factor driving my curiosity for the Jura Mountains: a growing affinity with small, community resorts – the kind of places where locals go to ski, that feel part of the culture and not somehow transplanted.

On paper, the Jura Mountains are France's best kept secret, and one of the least explored pockets of the Alps. Straddling the Franco-Swiss border, the Jura Mountains extend for a 250km arc from the Rhone to the Rhine. The ski route, which was first completed in 1978 (the year I was born), crosses the Haut-Jura regional park and follows much of the route of the world famous Transjurassiene ski race. Unlike the jagged peaks of the Alps, the landscape is more Nordic and rolling.

My plan was simple. I would ski a bit and eat a lot. My Grande Traversée du Jura (GTJ) starts in the Swiss town of St. Croix and ends 153 kilometers later at Giron, France.

Upon arrival in St. Croix, I carelessly and recklessly throw away my original plan (short taxi transfer to the trail head at Les Fourgs) in favour of the more adventurous option of following vague instructions from the Hotel owner to ski across Swiss snow-covered meadows to join the GTJ on the French border.

A short hike through town to the Col des Etroits and armed only with a tourist map, I am ready to depart on my cross-country skiing tour. After a shortly while the track splits, whereas the map shows just one route. I choose the left track simply because it does not cross a road (and there is no road marked on my map). After a little while further, the route begins to descend. The groomed piste then disappears and becomes a vague route on hard compacted snow. I am now picking up a bit too much speed on this descent. As I ski over and around all the bumps, a narrow road appears before me. I need to make a short, sharp turn to brake, but these are not the skis for that job, so I head for a part of the road that has a thin layer of snow. As I land from the small drop-off between the field and road, I realise that the road is covered in ice, not snow. I struggle to land and end up folded over looking between my legs at an oncoming red Swiss car. I try to scramble out of the way, but I have no traction at all. I resign myself to the inevitable skidding of tires and painful impact, but, to my surprise and relief, she simply squeezed past me. Is it wrong of me to question why she did not stop to see if I was OK?

On the other side of the road, I continue to follow the vague trial until it truly disappears. I take off my skis to hike up a narrow trial up through pine trees to reach La Gittaz Dessous. Here, with a weird mixture of happiness and anger, I find the correct trail and make up for lost time. I ski along the perfectly groomed piste, down through pine trees and across the gentle terrain to the border.

Shortly after crossing the border, I picked up the signs for GTJ to Les Hôpitaux Vieux. With navigation issues a thing of the past, I follow the well marked ski trail over a handy ski bridge to the snow-starved village of Les Hôpitaux Neufs. The GTJ ski trail continues gently over undulating terrain to a small ski town of Metabief.

Alternating through forests and clearings, used in summer as pastures for cattle, I join a network of trails where I begin to climb to the plateau of the 'Mont d'Or’, before dropping down to Longeville-Mont-d’Or for a well earned rest.

Distance: 32.5km

https://www.relive.cc/view/2172433613

Easy Rider

As I dwell on my plans for the day over breakfast, I recall a conversation I had months earlier with an old friend and this fills me with a desire to get to Spain. The trade-off is I must spend six hours on motorways, but this will make a welcome change from the nail biting, gear twitching rides of the last two days. Frankly, I do not think my nerves could take another exhilarating day!

The sun is in the sky, the sea is on my left as I cruise along the Côte d'Azur towards the Coasta Brava. Nothing, save the odd flying cigarette or squirt of screen wash in the face, can bother me on a day like today. A double milestone is reached when I cross the French Spanish Border. First, a new country and secondly, my motorbike and I have travelled fourteen thousand miles together. As a reward I leave the mundaneness of the motorway behind and strike out for the coast...

Cap de Creus is the eastern most point of mainland Spain and is my destination for the night as the topic of the aforementioned conversation was the World's most unexpected Curry House.

This is a place of sublime, rugged beauty and at the end of a five mile long lonely road that winds its way through the moonscape. When I reach the restaurant, not only will they serve me with the the best curry I have had outside of England; they also provide me with an apartment for the night. I may have lost last night, but tonight could be a winner :D

With a steep, rocky coastline indented by dozens of turquoise-watered coves, this is a wonderful place to be at sunset, especially when a spectacular thunderstorm breaks out over the Pyrenees and travels along the Coasta Brava. As the old lighthouse sparks into life, it is time to sit back and watch Mother Nature do her work...

Finding George

Putting on this many layers on such a beautiful day is counter intuitive to say the least! So, with my TomTom set to avoid all motorways, off I set to get some cool air flowing through these layers. I snake my way along the valley bottom towards Grenoble, then ascend into the mountains...

The initial climb is through a steep narrow gorge where the narrow twisty road is chiselled into the sheer limestone face. There are times I want to shut my eyes to avoid seeing these huge drops, then I remember that I am driving :) I leave the shadows of the gorge and catch my first glimpse of snow covered peaks as I head towards the legendary N85...

Generally considered one of the best motorbike roads in Europe, the N85 starts in the mountains and passes through dramatic scenery as it sweeps south to the Mediterranean via Digne-les-Bains and Castellane, gateway to the magnificent Gorges du Verdon. This excellent fast road, is perfect for a motorbike (although loved by campervans too!) follows the route taken by Napoleon Bonaparte in 1815, following his exile on Elba. The tarmac is superb, and the corners are a sublime combination of seriously fast sweepers and mountain hairpins. I feel like I am smiling all the way.

On the way to the Côte d'Azur, I pass through many of Provence's pretty hilltop village; all of which were still in their best dress from Bastille Day. En-route I decide to spend the night in Nice and try to find the Youth Hostel that Colin (the groom and the reason for the trip!) and I stayed in nearly eleven years ago. In order to achieve this, I must leave the N85 and take the D6 through the dramatic Gorges du Loup, which starts high in the hills above Greolieres and continues down to Pont-du-Loup. This is another nail biting ride!

My English eyes can see no logic or sense on the chaotic roads of Nice. It seems to be go where you want and honk your horn if someone gets in your way! So I happily join in :) Behaving like a local must give me some sort of sixth sense as I find my way to the Youth Hostel without too many wrong turns. Not bad, hey!?

Only; I kind of now wish that I had not. My stay is a complete disaster. Not what you would expect from somewhere claiming to be the "best hostel in France". I guess you win some, you lose some. On a more positive note; I found George Clooney on my pizza box :)

Bastille Day

Somebody somewhere once said that even the longest journey begins with a single step. This one begins with a roar as my motorbike is awakened from its winter hibernation.

Ten minutes into the journey I am reminded of how careful you have to be when riding a motorbike. I decide to leave the chaos of the motorway and head into the Black Forest...

Here there are sweeping bends, hairpins and long fast straights, corkscrew loops, uphill climbs and tricky, twisty turns, ensuring that my motorbike and I stay nimble. This is why I love riding my motorbike :)

The route I am following is exhilarating and enjoyable, but is not really helping me to get to France on Bastille Day. Essentially I am wasting time cruising around the Black Forest, but I like to think the time you enjoy wasting is not wasted time.

That said, I should not squander time as it is the stuff of which this journey is made. With this in mind, breakfast in Germany is followed by dinner in Switzerland and tea in France. As I leave behind the forests of Germany, I weave between the lakes and towering peaks of Switzerland and pop across the border in to France.

As the sun is slowly setting, I choose Annecy as my home for the night. Somewhere called "The Best Hotel" is clearly the place to stay. When I check in I am shown the area where the fireworks will be... I guess that my plans for the evening are sorted :)

The firework display over the third largest lake in France is spectacular. The wall of colours is only  enhanced by the sonic boom of each firework reverberating around the mountains that encircle the lake. What a beautiful way to end my first day on the road.

Why?

I have often been asked by friends in the outer world what I would hope to gain from such activities, and the only answer I could give was to shrug my shoulders and say:

"What is the good of trying to justify the useless? The fact that I enjoy the useless effort I have to make, the comradeship that binds me to my friends in the accomplishment of what has no utility."

Louis Potié 1957

Couldn't have said it any better Louis :)

Une minute plus vite qu'hier!

Today is our last day together and the first where the weather has stopped us getting out and about in the mountains :(

We still managed to go swimming though and after more tuition from Alistair, I can now swim approx 1500m in 36 min and 35 sec :)

Paul and Gill drove over from Grenoble to join us for our last meal. For tomorrow we all head in different directions having had a proper summer adventure!

Why does it always hail on me?

I went back to school today... Alistair and Ems gave me more swimming lessons. As a result I knocked 2 mins off my time for swimming a mile :)

After a bit of lunch and a litre of Candy Up, we went to do a little via ferrata.

Via Ferrata du Rocher du Bez is a small circular route designed for beginners. Just as we started though, the dark clouds moved in and it began to hail... in August... in France... Why?

Où sont mes frites?

The lazy morning soon became lunchtime. After which some of our newly expanded group went for a hike. The rest of us went climbing on the impressive crags of Ailefroid (that we saw on the drive home yesterday).

The village lies in a high alpine valley surrounded by clear streams, blue skies and acres of perfect granite. The slabby crag was a great place to brush up my technique!

Peak of the Snowy Rope Maker

4:30am alarm call - I sat up to see a trail of headtorches snaking their way up the snowfield in front of the Barre des Écrins.

By 5:30am we were on our way. We made the steep climb up to the Brèche Cordier. This was accidental - we had gone to the wrong col, due to the lack of snow!

After some debate over the best route, we climbed the ESE ridge of the Pic de Neige Cordier and summited at 8:30am. We sat on the summit taking in the views and lots of photos :) We then descended the ridge, the glacier and then the tourist path to arrive back at our car by 2:30pm.

A Room with a View

After an early morning food shop, we packed our rucksacks and made the picturesque drive to Pré de Madame Carle.

From here we hiked up to the Glacier Blanc and bivvied about 1km before the Refuge des Écrins (at approx 3000m).

The view of the Barre des Écrins was stunning. The night sky was so clear - I've never seen so many stars! After we ate our gnocchi, we climbed in to our bivvy bags and tried to get some sleep before tomorrow's adventure...

Baignade

With reports of more bad weather, we delayed our venture in to the mountains until tomorrow. So we headed to a small lake in La Roche-de-Rame for some more triathlon training...

Here I swam just under a mile in just under 40 mins. After which 'Alistair the Fish' gave me some lessons on how to swim properly :)

Tournoux

An easy day was planned, after yesterday's 21 hour marathon! So we headed to Puy-Saint Vincent to do another via ferrata.

The via ferrata de Tournoux climbs just to the right of centre (can you see the tiny people on the route?) and then has a descent route down a very steep gully, which means we did a little circuit up and down this impressive crag. Another fantastic route :)

Col du Clot des Cavales

4:30am - out of the house by 5am - start walking by 6am. At this time of the morning everything seems a little blurred.

At first we hiked along the valley bottom, which looked like something out of the Lord of the Rings.

We then took the steep right hand fork up to the Glacier du Clot des Cavales. Crossing the small glacier took us to our final destination - Col du Clot des Cavales (3158m).

The views through the col were stunning. The ground just fell away from us down to the valley bottom.

We fueled up on mackerel sandwiches and then headed back to Le Pied du Col to find the car.

Later that evening Tom and I completed the "Italian Job" :)

La Via de la Balme

After spending the morning planning our acclimatisation routes, we went to play on another via ferrata :)

La via de la Balme is one of the three original French via ferrata. It was more of a mountain route than the Gorges de la Durance and as a result a lot more exposed in places!

We all sloped off to bed early after tea tonight as we have an alpine start tomorrow...

Gorges de la Durance

After a spot of shopping and a quick bit to eat, we headed to the Gorges de la Durance to do our first via ferrata. This route at one time had the reputation for being the most difficult via ferrata in France. A nice easy one to start with then... :)

This route is brilliant. It has exposed traverses along the Durance and three suspension bridges that cross the gorge. The guide book describes the route as

"not only a route of great class, but [it] is a true classic."

Couldn't agree more :)

Happy Birthday Mum!!