The Madmen of Mont Ventoux
Mont Ventoux, the legend
Mont Ventoux is a mountain in the South of France whose peak stands at 1909 metres above sea level. Although it's geologically part of the Alps, the Ventoux stands proud of the Provence landscape with its deserted limestone peak.
Les Cinglés du Mont Ventoux
There's a special competition called Les Cinglés du Mont Ventoux which means the Madmen of Mont Ventoux, where successful cyclists can enter a special club of "Madmen". To become cinglé, or "crazy", you have to ride a route that includes the ascent and descent of all the three roads to the summit. There's no time limit, if you think it'll take you some time, the rules state you can start with lights on your bike. The course is 136km long, with 4,500 metres of vertical climbing. The idea is that you ride the route yourself, there is no organised ride for this. You apply for a pack and the Club des Cinglés sends you a route map and some other information, including where the controls are. This means you have to visit particular shops and cafés on the way to get a card stamped, as proof of your passage.
It's up to you whether you start in Malaucène, Bédoin or Sault for the Cinglé challenge. You can employ different strategies, perhaps doing the hardest route first, generally agreed to be from Bédoin. Or maybe you want to try the easiest ascension first, so it's a more gentle warm up and then you start from Sault.
The club currently has four cinglés, Lawrence Smith (June 2007, June 2009), Ian Collins (August 2006), Glenn Chamberlin (June 2009, May 2010), Damien Breen (2010), Luke Wallis (2010), Tarik Djeddour (2009) and James Beaumont (June 2006, June 2009).
History
Many of the legendary mountain roads of the Tour de France are cols or, in English, passes. The likes of the Galibier and Tourmalet are roads that allow you to cross from one valley over to the next. They follow trails that have existed for thousands of years, routes that don't reach the top of the mountain, instead they try to avoid it. In contrast, the roads up the Mont Ventoux exist only to take you up to the summit, where there nothing but an astronomical observatory, a small military communications base, a tourist shop and a great view. There's also the sense of satisfaction waiting for you at the top if you've made it up by bike.
No one reached the top of the mountain until medieval times, when the Italian poet Petrach reached the summit in 1336. Petrach's efforts are to be applauded, he climbed the mountain simply for the pleasure of the ascent and to see the view from the top, making him the father of mountaineering and anyone who rides their bike up Mont Ventoux is perpetuating a tradition that he begun.
Petrarch was a poet and he would have have found the circumstances on the summit dramatic as the top of Mont Ventoux is not a hospitable place. The highest wind speed ever recorded was measured not on top of Everest or in the midst of an Atlantic hurricane but at the top of the Ventoux. The wind can blow at 300 km/h (180mph). The name Mont Ventoux comes from the French word venteux meaning windy. So in English, you'd call it Mount Windy. It can be cold up at the top, the summit is covered in snow during the winter and there's a ski station up there.
The roads up to the summit
There are three roads for cycling up Mont Ventoux, beginning from the towns of Malaucène, Bédoin and Sault. To the West, you can start from Malaucène or Bédoin. The road from Malaucène starts at 320m above sea level, heading up the western side of the hill for 21km. From Bédoin, at 290m, the route takes you across the southern slopes before doubling back up the eastern side of the hill and this is 21km too. Finally, you can also start from Sault, at 760m and ride up the east side of the mountain for 26km. More later on each route.
Despite its name, luckily in the summer months, the weather is a lot calmer and the mountain has been the scene of many legendary stages of the Tour de France. The length of the climb and its steep slopes means it is classified as a hors catégorie climb, placing it in a select group of the toughest roads in Europe. In 1967, British cyclist Tom Simpson collapsed and died, the effort proving too much for him after he'd foolishly taken amphetamines and even some cognac. There is now a roadside memorial to Simpson, indeed look closely at the riders who've triumphed there and many of them have had tragic times, from Pantani to Virenque. Perhaps this says more about cycling than the mountain.
The roads have also been used for stages of the Dauphiné Libéré race and the Tour de l'Avenir. And there are a couple of cyclosportives every year, like the Vélo Ventoux. There are also some organised mountain time trials for masochists.
Turning Mad
I'd applied to join the Club des Cinglés at the end of May, writes James Beaumont. Applying was painless and took a few minutes. You just download the application form and send off a cheque for 14 euros made payable to Christian Pic, whose surname serendipitously translates as "peak". Within days I'd got a package from Monsieur Pic.
So one morning I drove into Bédoin. I pulled into a shady market square to park and it was like being at a local race. Everywhere, bikes were being lifted down from roof racks, trackpumps were hissing and you could hear the click-clack of many cleated feet.
I'd chosen to start in Bédoin for two reasons. The first was practical: it's the hardest road up and so best to get it out of the way first. Second, it's the classic route and I wanted to have fresh legs for the most famous ascent of Mont Ventoux. Setting off was easy, I rolled onto the Tourist Office to get my route card stamped, the woman wished me good luck and I set off, passing the bike shops that do a roaring trade from fellow pilgrims to the Mont Ventoux. I wasn't going to have the road for myself. There were also plenty of tourists, not cyclo-tourists but plain tourists: women in skirts, men on shopping bikes, I even passed someone brave enough to try it on a BMX.
Soon enough, the real climbing begins. As you leave the village of St Estève, the road goes round a bend and then up at the 9 or 10% gradient that's the norm for the next 10km, you don't get a break. The road was great, silky smooth tarmac that twisted its way up through the shady oak and beech tree forest. It was hard work but all you need is some low gears. 39x23 won't work, unless you're a pro and in a race. Otherwise, you'll need something more like 39x28 or even 36x23 to get up if you're a fit rider.
You count down the "bornes" or milestones. They tell you the altitude and the average gradient for the next 1000 metres. If you're grovelling up, better not look at them but even if you're on a flyer, they still come slowly. You climb in the forest, there's no view and it's hard to know where you are but as you approach Chalet Reynard suddenly on the left you can glimpse the summit. Passing Chalet Reynard, it was packed with lunching tourists and cyclists getting a drink. Time for a quick sprint to show off and I flew past the car park. I knew I'd pay for it, but in fact it wasn't so bad. After the 10% gradient, you pass Chalet Reynard and the gradient is "only" 7%, and I felt the difference; almost pleasant.
I kept going fast for a bit, conscious that I still had plenty more to do that day but picking off the other cyclists riding up to the top was irresistible. In fact, it wasn't so bad. Everyone talks about the mountain as being one of the hardest around but it's not really. From Chalet Reynard, the slope isn't so bad and if you're lucky to get a calm day, it's straightforward. Literally, as the absence of hairpin bends means you can always see the road ahead. It got cold, this was nice at first, cooling me down but the more I approached the summit, the more this cooling was turning into a weakening chill. Here you come into the distinctive "lunar" landscape of limestone rocks. At first, it looks like the world's largest pile of rubble but look closer and a few flowers poke through. It's a special sight though, the way the white rocks reflect the sunshine, this barren scene clashing with the ugly, giant TV aerial on the top. Soon enough, I was approaching the final bend to the summit and rode into a horde of people crowding at the top, including plenty of proud cyclists. I'd done it in 1.14.
I got my card stamped in the tourist shop at the top. Time to put my gilet on and descend to Malaucène. The descent was worse than the ascent. It was cold, not that my fingers were frozen, this was a dry cold from the cool temperatures (8oC at the summit) and the windchill from riding at 60km/h downhill. I passed a large lump of snow that had refused to melt. You can reach 80km/h here which sounds fun but I found it scary, I was numb from the cold and not relaxed on the bike.
I hit Malaucène at lunch time, the café terraces were packed in the sunshine with tourists and locals settling in for a nice lunch, no doubt washed down by some local Gigondas red. No such luck for me, time to eat a couple of cereal bars and visit the Bureau de Tourisme for another stamp on my card. But this is France and everything's shut at lunchtime - including the Tourist Office - so I went to a café for an orange juice and to get the card stamped. Then it was back up the road I'd just been down. My legs felt wooden, but within a few minutes things were better. I found the road up from Malaucène a lot harder than the Bédoin climb. The gradient was hard from the beginning but irregular. I couldn't get into a rythmn and kept changing between gears and standing up on the pedals, but nothing felt right. It was hard going all the way up but not impossible, I didn't feel like stopping, just that I couldn't do the climb at a steady pace. The views were great though, you look down to the north of Ventoux and can see the parched hills of Provence below, small villages in between. Soon I got to the ski station of Mont Serein, an Alpine touch as you ride under the ski-lifts but the resort isn't big. Still, it's a sign you're getting further up the mountain and by now, with one and a half climbs in my legs, any sign that I was nearing the top was great.
Soon enough, I saw the summit and the final bends to the top. It was hard work but the gradient was a steady 8% and I made it up this side in 1.24, slower than the other side, my legs tired. Again, just time to stop at the summit and put on my gilet but I allowed myself the satisfaction of knowing that only the "easy" climb from Sault was left. Well, not quite, as soon as I started the descent, it was cold and the wind had picked up. When you're climbing up, you'd rather be descending, to take the load of your legs, stop the sweating and keep cool; when you're descending, you want to climb, to be warm and not to be risking those high speed corners. Chalet Reynard came into sight really quick, and along the way, the road was filling up with camper vans, as the next day the Critérium du Dauphiné Libéré stage race was heading up to the top. I stopped at a fountain to fill up my water bottles. "Who's going to win tomorrow?" I asked the campers. "Oh, I don't know, they all look the same" said one, wearing his Tour de France baseball cap.
Back past the ski restaurant of Chalet Reynard, I took the turning for Sault. The road was something else, rough as a cat's tongue. The gradient wasn't much, making it a more boring descent, you couldn't let gravity do all the work and had to pedal in places and even the corners were hard work, full of holes, bumps and rippled tarmac. But it didn't take long to do the 20km into Sault, but the last kilometre is uphill into the town. Again, just time to get my card stamped and empty the wrappers from all those cereal bars I'd eaten into a bin. I was surprised at the roadside waste, the roads up to the summit are littered with every kind of energy bar wrapper you could find, from shiny foil Powerbars, to those small toothpaste-style tubes favoured by French riders. Once you've eaten the food, it's not hard to put the rubbish in your pocket. Part of the attraction of cycling is getting out into the nature and seeing the roadside waste meant cycling doesn't always rhyme with nature.
Back to the final climb up from Sault. Passing the lavender farms at the start was nice, the warm breeze perfumed but soon it was back into the forest. The bumpy road on the way down was just as bad going up, it made the going a bit harder. It's nothing terrible, hardly Paris-Roubaix, in fact the road is probably normal for the region and it's just the slick surface from Bédoin that's so nice. The climb is a lot gentler but fatigue was setting in. Doing this version would be quick if you tried it by itself. In fact the road is so flat, it can be annoying as you pass milestones and after each kilometre, they show that you hardly gain any altitude. Sault lies at 760m above sea level, so you're starting from higher up (Bédoin and Malaucène are both around 300m). After some climbing the gradient levels out and you can start clicking up the gears. With your left hand, as you can use the big ring to get up to Chalet Reynard. It's really not hard, you feel like you're cheating. Mont Ventoux is supposed to be hard! But it is hard, once I passed Chalet Reynard and again tackled the same stretch of road I'd done earlier to get up to the summit. Last time it felt ok, this time was to be my final ascent but despite willing myself to empty the tank and give it everything, I was slow. I was still passing others on the way up, but overtaking Dutch tourists on their MTBs, dressed in orange football shorts wasn't something to enjoy; my bike and kit marked me out as a serious cyclist but I wasn't passing them at the pace I should have been.
I ground on, the air becoming cooler again and I took advantage of a flatter stretch to soft pedal and put my gilet on, not easy in the wind, the gilet was acting as a spinnaker before I zipped it up. Past the Simpson memorial, littered with anything passing cyclists could leave as a tribute, a bizarre shrine which only makes the story of Simpson's demise more tragic (if I croak on the bike, please leave flowers at the scene, not an inner tube or your cycling socks, ok). The road was busy with camper vans setting up their pitch for the following day and then I passed BMX guy, who I'd seen earlier in the morning outside Bédoin – he'd taken several hours to get here, he was walking, his front tyre flat and I wondered how he'd get down, hopefully he hitched a lift. One last effort, a sprint and I was up at the top. I was hoping to be happy, now that the punishment of climbing Mont Ventoux was over but I was just a bit dazed and cold. I did a U-turn and rode down, picking up speed, my freewheel screaming and my teeth chattering. The climbing takes so long but going down is like a fast-forwarded video. Chalet Reynard flashed by once again and then the turn to Bédoin, back to the road I'd taken hours before. The descent was fast and I could now see why this was the hardest climb, it looked steep and I was glad I'd got it out of the way first. The road twists and turns and I barrelled down, until suddenly you come into St. Estève and that's it, the slope eases off and you're back to riding past cherry orchards, vineyards and olive groves, a hot wind caresses you as if you're slipping into a hot bath, the arctic chill of the summit just a memory. I got back to Bédoin and stopped, and flopped sweaty and salty in my car. No finish line, no ceremony.
Now all that remains is to send off my route card. Hopefully I haven't committed some error on the paperwork as I'm due for a medal. I rode the route and would hate to get thwarted by the paperwork, a very French thing indeed (ne râlez pas, s.v.p. car je suis français!). What made the ride hard was a solo aspect. On those slopes, following a wheel isn't about aerodynamics, but the encouragement and mental stimulation, something to aim for and someone to talk to. In terms of hours, it's my longest solo ride ever although the distance doesn't sound much (155km). The ride is actually on 136km but I went for a warm up. I was certainly tired afterwards and thinking I'd never do it again but a few hours later, I started thinking maybe I'd try it again, to do it faster.
I'd recommend the ride to anyone. You have to have a good level of fitness and some willpower but since it's no race, you can take as much time as you like. Most will try this ride in the summer months and it's possible to start at dawn and watch the sun come up.
Tips to get to the topWeather: Check the forecast before you go. Even if you can see the summit from the bottom on the mountain, it could be blowing a gale up there and if it's boiling in Bédoin, it can be sub-zero on top. According to the French Army, who run the distinctive communications base on the summit, up at the top of Mont Ventoux you have: Clothing: Take some extra clothes for the top and remember with the windchill, even in temperatures of 25oC, descending at speed can make you cold. So suffer the weight penalty - it's minor anyway - and even when it's a hot day, pack that raincape in your back pocket. Gears: With low gears, it's all possible. Think about a triple chainring or a compact chainset, with a gear of 36x25. It might look "pro" rolling out of Bédoin with your normal gears of 39x23 but unless you're an excellent rider, at best you'll be grinding your way up in an endless series of leg presses, at worst you'll be walking. Drink and eat: Don't forget to drink a lot. There's a fountain with drinkable water halfway between Chalet Reynard and the summit. Useful. And all the climbing equals a lot of calories burnt up, so you'll need to eat a lot too, but this can be hard to do when you're gasping for air on the way up and when you're flying down at 70km/h. So make time to eat. Start early: If it's going to be a hot day and, unlike me you're not the solar-powered who craves cycling in hot weather, think about starting early in the morning so you're not still climbing in the afternoon heat. Take your rubbish away: Energy bar wrappers weigh nothing, so don't add to the litter left by cyclists and respect the nature. Club des Cinglés du Mont-Ventoux Click here to visit the official website. |
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