bikeman66
Senior Member
- Location
- Isle of Wight
Hi All,
As some of you guys might have read on here, I recently (along with a couple of mates) had the "pleasure" of climbing Mont Ventoux on my bike. It capped off a great week of cycling in Provence, and I would thoroughly recommend the area to anyone keen to ride new and fantastic routes.
If you are planning to tackle Ventoux, experience would suggest that you should perhaps shy away from setting a specific date and expecting to ride it on that day. It is a good idea to be prepared to ride almost at the drop of a hat when a suitable weather window opens. I had provisionally planned to ride Ventoux on Thursday 29th April, but, keeping a close eye on Internet weather forecasts for the mountain, Tuesday 27th and Wednesday 28th started to look like more favourable options. We drove to the mountain on the Tuesday, although the wind forecast had become slightly less favourable. I had driven up the mountain the previous August whilst on holiday with the family, so thought we could at least recce the ride from the car for the benefit of my two friends who had never seen Ventoux previously. All was fine, and we drove up in good sunshine and moderate temperatures until we reached Chalet Reynard 6km from the summit. From there, the wind speed increased ridiculously and we drove in to freezing fog, which clung to the north sides of the snow marker poles and laid a frost on the Tarmac at the summit. It was almost impossible to open the car doors when we reached the top, so we pretty much turned around and headed down via the Sault route from Chalet Reynard. The episode was proof that you really need to pick your day and of how very different conditions can be at the foot of the mountain compared to the summit, even though Ventoux isn't exactly the highest summit in the world at 1911 metres.
We used the rest of the Tuesday to take in a fantastic ride along the Nesque Gorge from Monieux to Ville-sur-Auzon. This is a gentle downhill ride of 23km, featuring awesome scenery. The road is pretty quiet, making the trip all the more enjoyable. Although we could have made this in to a circular route, having stopped in Ville-sur-Auzon for a late lunch, we decided to ride back through the gorge as a leg loosener for the following day, and because the scenery definitely warrants a second look.
We arrived at the centre of the known universe for riders setting out to climb Ventoux, the town of Bedoin, at around 11.00am on the Wednesday, unloaded the bikes from the car, picked up some last minute fuel (Haribo) from the Carrefour, and set off at around 11.45am. In all honesty, those first 5km's of gentle uphill out of Bedoin filled me with fear that it was not going to be my day. My legs just felt really heavy for some reason. I didn't tell my two mates, as I didn't want to plant a seed of doubt in their minds, especially as we had a policy that we would all stay in sight of each other, and that we either all made it to the top, or we all didn't make it. Strictly speaking, I perhaps should have been the one with most confidence, as one of my mates is a 14.5 stone guy, who although quite strong and fit, I was sure his power to weight ratio might come up short. Our other mate is a type1 diabetic, which presented its own issues. Anyway, as we started the climb in earnest, I was really relieved to start feeling stronger as we ascended.
It was clear, as soon as the gradient steepened, that our differing riding styles would make it difficult to maintain our "stay in sight" policy. The big guy started suffering fairly early, although not in such a way that he thought the summit was out of reach. He was pretty much reduced to "pushing" his lowest gear (34-28), while our diabetic mate had the advantage of a 105 group on his Trek featuring a triple chainset. Bearing his condition in mind, he settled in to a very low geared spin, which seemed to suit him fine. I found myself riding away from the guys, not consciously, as I just found it easier to spin a 34-28, and occasionally opt to stand on a 34-25. Although it made things a bit disjointed, I settled in to a system where I would take out 200-300 metres on my mates, stop, take a few pictures while they caught up, then let them get a couple of hundred in front before setting off after them and basically repeating the process.
No two ways about it, going up through the forest, where for 5km the gradient does not go below 9%, and is quite often up around 11%, was a pretty tough time, but the encouragement and camaraderie of fellow cyclists seems to have a knack of pulling you up the hill at the moments when you need it most.
We re-grouped at Chalet Reynard and topped up water bottles. We each took the time to put on an extra base layer, knowing that the temperature was just about to start plummeting, having gone from an almost airless sheltered forest climb, in to an open, exposed, almost lunar landscape where the stiff breeze would chill our sweat soaked bodies. We made good progress over the final 6km, and when we passed the memorial to the late Tom Simpson we adopted an "every man for himself" policy.
I took the ticket/business card from the "photo ventoux.com" guy who had just snapped six or seven shots of me, as he has for thousands before, about 100 metres from the summit. I just revelled in the achievement of climbing the "Giant of Provence", looking out across vast hazy views of the Southern Alps. The big guy appeared within a couple of minutes, closely followed by our third colleague.
We had the obligatory photo session next to the summit marker, exchanged niceties with a bunch of German cyclists, shook hands and congratulated ourselves before gathering to descend the route we had just climbed (the road down to Malaucene was closed unfortunately). We were treated to one more awesome surprise before we left the summit though...............a thunderous roar overhead announced the arrival of a French Airforce Mirage fighter jet, travelling ridiculously fast, upside down, and so low you could almost read the pilots name badge. In seconds it was out of sight.
We began our descent, agreeing to stop at Chalet Reynard to make sure everyone was safely down from the summit. From the Chalet it was a free for all back to the foot of Ventoux. I set off first, but unfortunately the big guy just behind had the misfortune to get stuck behind a French cyclist who was going just too quick to be able to overtake on the twisting roads, but just too slow to allow a full-on descent. I got to the bottom, with the biggest smile etched in to my face. Steep downhills, chicanes, hairpin bends, sweeping curves...............surely the most fun you can have on two wheels!
A minute later, the big guy appeared, having just made a pretty impressive overtaking manoeuvre on the French chap. We compared notes on the descent like a couple of stupidly excited schoolboys while we waited another 12 minutes for our friend. To be fair, he works in a hospital, so I guess he sees results of Speedfreak cyclists over exuberance often enough to make him a little more cautious.
We rolled back in to Bedoin, put the bikes back on the car and treated ourselves to a nice strong coffee whilst watching the world (and a constant stream of cyclists) go by.
2 hours and 24 minutes to get to the top, and 30 minutes to get back down! Awesome, awesome ride.
Someone on this forum advised me that one of the strongest qualities you need to climb Ventoux is mental fortitude and I would absolutely agree with this. Sure, a 28 or even a 30 tooth sprocket is some insurance, but the mental side of it should not be taken lightly. Living on the Isle of Wight, I know that any climb I encounter is going to be done and dusted in no more than a mile or so. If I go round a bend and the road is still heading up I know the torture won't be for long. A couple of times on the ascent of Ventoux, I stupidly allowed myself to think that every bend I went around I knew there would be no respite for 10, 15, 20km. I had to have some sharp words with myself, and just sat in and decided to enjoy the climb. After all, that was the very reason we were there, to enjoy the bike ride.
I don't actually think that any half capable cyclist should be scared by Ventoux! If you allow that to happen it will eat you. Respect the mountain, yes absolutely. Be prepared for the almost relentless gradient over the 21km route, get your mind sorted and go for an awesome bike ride. The rewards are fantastic.
As some of you guys might have read on here, I recently (along with a couple of mates) had the "pleasure" of climbing Mont Ventoux on my bike. It capped off a great week of cycling in Provence, and I would thoroughly recommend the area to anyone keen to ride new and fantastic routes.
If you are planning to tackle Ventoux, experience would suggest that you should perhaps shy away from setting a specific date and expecting to ride it on that day. It is a good idea to be prepared to ride almost at the drop of a hat when a suitable weather window opens. I had provisionally planned to ride Ventoux on Thursday 29th April, but, keeping a close eye on Internet weather forecasts for the mountain, Tuesday 27th and Wednesday 28th started to look like more favourable options. We drove to the mountain on the Tuesday, although the wind forecast had become slightly less favourable. I had driven up the mountain the previous August whilst on holiday with the family, so thought we could at least recce the ride from the car for the benefit of my two friends who had never seen Ventoux previously. All was fine, and we drove up in good sunshine and moderate temperatures until we reached Chalet Reynard 6km from the summit. From there, the wind speed increased ridiculously and we drove in to freezing fog, which clung to the north sides of the snow marker poles and laid a frost on the Tarmac at the summit. It was almost impossible to open the car doors when we reached the top, so we pretty much turned around and headed down via the Sault route from Chalet Reynard. The episode was proof that you really need to pick your day and of how very different conditions can be at the foot of the mountain compared to the summit, even though Ventoux isn't exactly the highest summit in the world at 1911 metres.
We used the rest of the Tuesday to take in a fantastic ride along the Nesque Gorge from Monieux to Ville-sur-Auzon. This is a gentle downhill ride of 23km, featuring awesome scenery. The road is pretty quiet, making the trip all the more enjoyable. Although we could have made this in to a circular route, having stopped in Ville-sur-Auzon for a late lunch, we decided to ride back through the gorge as a leg loosener for the following day, and because the scenery definitely warrants a second look.
We arrived at the centre of the known universe for riders setting out to climb Ventoux, the town of Bedoin, at around 11.00am on the Wednesday, unloaded the bikes from the car, picked up some last minute fuel (Haribo) from the Carrefour, and set off at around 11.45am. In all honesty, those first 5km's of gentle uphill out of Bedoin filled me with fear that it was not going to be my day. My legs just felt really heavy for some reason. I didn't tell my two mates, as I didn't want to plant a seed of doubt in their minds, especially as we had a policy that we would all stay in sight of each other, and that we either all made it to the top, or we all didn't make it. Strictly speaking, I perhaps should have been the one with most confidence, as one of my mates is a 14.5 stone guy, who although quite strong and fit, I was sure his power to weight ratio might come up short. Our other mate is a type1 diabetic, which presented its own issues. Anyway, as we started the climb in earnest, I was really relieved to start feeling stronger as we ascended.
It was clear, as soon as the gradient steepened, that our differing riding styles would make it difficult to maintain our "stay in sight" policy. The big guy started suffering fairly early, although not in such a way that he thought the summit was out of reach. He was pretty much reduced to "pushing" his lowest gear (34-28), while our diabetic mate had the advantage of a 105 group on his Trek featuring a triple chainset. Bearing his condition in mind, he settled in to a very low geared spin, which seemed to suit him fine. I found myself riding away from the guys, not consciously, as I just found it easier to spin a 34-28, and occasionally opt to stand on a 34-25. Although it made things a bit disjointed, I settled in to a system where I would take out 200-300 metres on my mates, stop, take a few pictures while they caught up, then let them get a couple of hundred in front before setting off after them and basically repeating the process.
No two ways about it, going up through the forest, where for 5km the gradient does not go below 9%, and is quite often up around 11%, was a pretty tough time, but the encouragement and camaraderie of fellow cyclists seems to have a knack of pulling you up the hill at the moments when you need it most.
We re-grouped at Chalet Reynard and topped up water bottles. We each took the time to put on an extra base layer, knowing that the temperature was just about to start plummeting, having gone from an almost airless sheltered forest climb, in to an open, exposed, almost lunar landscape where the stiff breeze would chill our sweat soaked bodies. We made good progress over the final 6km, and when we passed the memorial to the late Tom Simpson we adopted an "every man for himself" policy.
I took the ticket/business card from the "photo ventoux.com" guy who had just snapped six or seven shots of me, as he has for thousands before, about 100 metres from the summit. I just revelled in the achievement of climbing the "Giant of Provence", looking out across vast hazy views of the Southern Alps. The big guy appeared within a couple of minutes, closely followed by our third colleague.
We had the obligatory photo session next to the summit marker, exchanged niceties with a bunch of German cyclists, shook hands and congratulated ourselves before gathering to descend the route we had just climbed (the road down to Malaucene was closed unfortunately). We were treated to one more awesome surprise before we left the summit though...............a thunderous roar overhead announced the arrival of a French Airforce Mirage fighter jet, travelling ridiculously fast, upside down, and so low you could almost read the pilots name badge. In seconds it was out of sight.
We began our descent, agreeing to stop at Chalet Reynard to make sure everyone was safely down from the summit. From the Chalet it was a free for all back to the foot of Ventoux. I set off first, but unfortunately the big guy just behind had the misfortune to get stuck behind a French cyclist who was going just too quick to be able to overtake on the twisting roads, but just too slow to allow a full-on descent. I got to the bottom, with the biggest smile etched in to my face. Steep downhills, chicanes, hairpin bends, sweeping curves...............surely the most fun you can have on two wheels!
A minute later, the big guy appeared, having just made a pretty impressive overtaking manoeuvre on the French chap. We compared notes on the descent like a couple of stupidly excited schoolboys while we waited another 12 minutes for our friend. To be fair, he works in a hospital, so I guess he sees results of Speedfreak cyclists over exuberance often enough to make him a little more cautious.
We rolled back in to Bedoin, put the bikes back on the car and treated ourselves to a nice strong coffee whilst watching the world (and a constant stream of cyclists) go by.
2 hours and 24 minutes to get to the top, and 30 minutes to get back down! Awesome, awesome ride.
Someone on this forum advised me that one of the strongest qualities you need to climb Ventoux is mental fortitude and I would absolutely agree with this. Sure, a 28 or even a 30 tooth sprocket is some insurance, but the mental side of it should not be taken lightly. Living on the Isle of Wight, I know that any climb I encounter is going to be done and dusted in no more than a mile or so. If I go round a bend and the road is still heading up I know the torture won't be for long. A couple of times on the ascent of Ventoux, I stupidly allowed myself to think that every bend I went around I knew there would be no respite for 10, 15, 20km. I had to have some sharp words with myself, and just sat in and decided to enjoy the climb. After all, that was the very reason we were there, to enjoy the bike ride.
I don't actually think that any half capable cyclist should be scared by Ventoux! If you allow that to happen it will eat you. Respect the mountain, yes absolutely. Be prepared for the almost relentless gradient over the 21km route, get your mind sorted and go for an awesome bike ride. The rewards are fantastic.
