Whilst out riding I noticed some new mountain bike trail signs for the Grande Traversée de Vaucluse.
GTV by Mark Berry, on FlickrA bit of internet digging showed this to be a newly labelled 230km long route with 6200m of climbing, going twice up the slopes of Ventoux. The route was designed to be ridden as a series of 5, day stages with a village stop at the end of each day, but I found a French cycling website with a post from a French bikepacker, saying that he‘d completed the course in 3 days, impressive but more importantly it seemed to confirm that me bikepacking the route was feasible.
I’d only done single night trips before. We’d done road touring but that was with loads of panniers and a nice campsite at the end of each day. This was to be my first multi-day bikepacking trip. Sue politely, or not so politely, declined my invitation to come along, so it was going to be a solo trip.
Last Sunday saw me at Savoillan ready to start.
Start by Mark Berry, on FlickrIt wasn’t much more than 5 minutes in before I was off and pushing. Pushing, dragging, taking luggage off and hauling the bike up a succession of narrow, steep, rocky slopes. When there was ridable terrain, it too was narrow, steep and rocky and I was often off and pushing downhill as well as up.
The weather was glorious, more like June than February, but as the day wore on patches of shade became more and more welcome.
Ventoux and Brantes by Mark Berry, on Flickr
Climbing by Mark Berry, on FlickrLunchtime saw me at St. Léger du Ventoux, where I found shade, water and a nice loo, which I managed to get myself locked in. Locked in, with stupidly, all my gear outside. It was a very nice toilet but I didn’t fancy spending four days in there. My intrepid adventure was off to a not very auspicious start.
St Léger by Mark Berry, on FlickrAfter kicking, banging and rattling the door for what felt like hours but was probably minutes, the lock finally unjammed and let me out. Fortunately all my stuff was still there, and so I got back on the bike and left.
The second part of the day started with a climb up the Northern face of Ventoux. It was mostly not a bad track, but the gradient was just a bit too steep for me to ride consistently. I started to get cross with myself, I was sure I should be able to ride this, but my legs weren’t listening. So by riding a bit, pushing a lot more, I made it up to the col, to be greeted by a french walker, looking at me, looking at my bike and saying “ you’re not taking a bike down there are you?”, pointing at the path he had just come up. Looking around I found the telltale red sign which said predictably…yes you are going down there!
Leaving the walker sadly shaking his head I headed down the track.
Actually the track was fabulous, great views ( when you dared to take your eyes off the trail ), fast and stony. I only fell off once, an SPD moment saw me dab on the wrong side of the track. Fortunately the foliage caught me so I could only slide a little way down.
The bike was handling great even with the weight I was carrying and the trail seemed to go on for ever, I just needed to stop every now and then to catch my breath and check nothing had fallen off the bike or me.
The end of the track spat me out into flat fields of orchards and vineyards. One of the fields looked unused so I lay my sleeping mat out and lay down in the sun.
After 6 and a half hours I was just 23km down the track, exhausted, bruised, footsore, and with an uncomfortable left achilles. I realised that this was going to bit a bit harder than I had expected and decided that this was as far as I was going today.
1st Night by Mark Berry, on FlickrThe second day saw me ride into Malaucène, for provisions and water. Food was bought, water was forgotten. Another rookie mistake, but not a serious one I thought. Most French villages have a drinking fountain so I could refill there. Unfortunately it being February, they all seemed to be turned off to prevent them freezing. Cemeteries are another good source of drinking water…well I don’t know what they do with their dead round here but no graveyards appeared.
It was more of a conventional mountain biking day, with some tough climbs ( pushes mainly, as my legs were still wrecked from the first day) and some fantastic descents, all in fantastic scenery.
Dentelles by Mark Berry, on Flickr
Dentelles de Montmirail by Mark Berry, on FlickrEventually with only a few mouthfuls left I found water in La Roque Alric a little village perched on a hill. It was also where a bit of trail I had seen from the road the year before started. It had looked great and turned out to be as good as it had looked.
But tiredness was setting in again. I lost the front wheel off the edge of the trail, the bike went down right I went left. Unhurt again but shaken I carried on. The downhill single track ended for me to be faced with a steep and dangerously slippy scramble up to the next village, followed by a ridiculously steep concrete staircase to struggle the bike down. The trail planners may have been called a few names at this point…actually not for the first time, or the last!
Stairs of Death by Mark Berry, on Flickr
Steeper than it looks by Mark Berry, on FlickrIt was about this time that I realised that competing the whole trail, was going to be, for me, neither physically, or timing wise, possible.
I found a perfect little overnight spot, and got the maps out. I could either quit and ride back to base or change my objectives and carry on. That sounded better than giving up, so the new plan was born.
2nd night by Mark Berry, on FlickrA terrific thunderstorm started in the early evening but I’d eaten and was dry in the tent by the time it hit. But the thought of bad weather whilst climbing Ventoux sealed my decision to change course.
I decided that next morning I would head to the next small town, Caromb, buy food, remember water this time, and head across country using some quiet roads, to pick up some off road tracks I knew and head towards the finish point, rejoining the original route near to the end. I gave myself a couple of days to get there and reckoned my body should hold up that long.
My new route took me down into the Gorge de la Nesque (the road along the gorge is one of the nicest road rides I’ve done) , and climbing out and up to the Col de la Ligne and then onto the Col de Murs which was my target for the day.
Pushing out of the Gorge de la Nesque by Mark Berry, on FlickrIt was good but hard day on the bike, lacking the WTF factor of the previous two days, but still a great place to be out in on a bike.
I reached the col earlier than I expected, so got the tent up and watched and listened to the day slowly fade away.
The last day was going to be a mostly downhill drop into the finish of the Grande Traversée, and I had that familiar sense of being pleased at getting to the end of a ride, but a bit sad that it meant the end of the adventure.
I still managed to get myself lost in some of the familiar trails I should have known my way around, I’m really not sure my brain was working properly anymore, but the sight of the Luberon valley enclosed in an inversion helped me to forget about it. It was also the last Wednesday of the hunting season and the hunters were out in force looking for the last wild boar of the season. There’s nothing like an rifle carrying orange vested Frenchman to give you motivation to keep moving.
Luberon inversion by Mark Berry, on FlickrEventually I sped down the last bit of track down into Fontaine de Vaucluse and then the last 11km back along the canal to home and beer.
Image 25-02-2016 at 15.45 by Mark Berry, on FlickrSo I finished my first multi-day trip, 151km, 3630m of climbing, and although not the trip I originally intended, it was enough of a challenge for me. I’ve learned more about my limitations and skills (many and few). I’ve also gained even more respect for those riders who can ride the sort of distances that I can only dream of.
I also found out how nice a shower is after 4 days without, although Sue assured me that I didn’t smell as badly as she expected although her welcome home hug was suspiciously short.
All my kit performed brilliantly, especially the bike. The Solaris was just great, even loaded it was still a fully functioning mountain bike capable of dealing with whatever I threw at it. My Lunar Solo tent was also ideal for the job and just worked.
Although I never that far from civilisation in distance, it did get very remote and I rarely saw another person nor found a phone signal, and I managed to run my phone battery out anyway, so I was pleased to have a spot tracker with me, nice for my safety, but was particularly great for Sue at home knowing where I was and that I was safe.
Also thanks for the advice, knowledge, and inspiration I’ve got directly from this site even if without it I probably would have never even thought about doing this and would ache a lot less than I do now.
I’ve done as I’ve been advised and gone through my kit to see what I used and what I didn’t, and to be honest there’s probably not too much I could or would change, so I just need to be much fitter, but that’s probably not going to happen now…too old.
It’s frustrating that nothing on the photos looks as steep or as hard as I found it, but the camera does sometimes lie, that’s my story anyway.
I’ll let my body recover for a few days then if I have time I’ll go back and ride unladen some of the trails I missed out.
Apparently next month they’re extending to route to 380km, whoopee!
