Battling the Moster of Morzine

Long ago, of the evil and twisted slopes of the Joux Plane..

Over the years I’d been over most of the major alpine cols, and as I’m sure you’ll know time tends to fade things, and somehow irons out the pain and suffering from your memory, leaving only glowing and all conquering moments paramount in your mind. Those breathless and cursing never again moments of a few years back suddenly mellow out and before you know it you’re back there yet again, and confusedly eager to self inflict yet more pain and suffering on your ever declining and aging body. This was one of those all too familiar moments, the one where the Joux Plane had been thrust at me from some comfy coffee adorned editorial desk in London, and I’d accepted the challenge as I would another drink at the bar, without a thought for what was to follow.

Now here I was boldly watching a video of the 2000 Tour de France from the comfort of a luxury alpine chalet, sipping red wine and munching away at a bowl of olives. I kind of remembered what had happened in the race, but not on which col or to who it had happened. From the growing comfort of the couch I watched as the peleton hit the foot of the Joux Plane. The US Postal boys were hammering away at the front. Already, within just a few minutes, Pntani had gone and the group had thinned out like an anorexic snake. Okay, so it looked sort of steep. But those “Sound of Music” like alpine meadows were just ablaze with sleepy mountain summer glory, and it seriously didn’t look to be that tough.

As things progressed I noticed that even the normally fast pedalling climbers were struggling to get their gears around. And then it happened, for the only memorable time in Tour history, Armstrong blew. Big Jan looked over his shoulder, and without an ounce of sympathy rode away from the previously invincible all American hero. One by one the other yellow jersey contenders and even grogerrios passed the bonking hero by, almost as if he were standing still – in his book he referred to that climb as the “ worse time I’ve ever had on a bicycle.” It was time for another glass or red wine, and then maybe another two …

Boldly we’d pinned together two of Nick’s usual rides, well it was only about 100kms in all – and how hard could that be? Even Nick questioned the logic and need of such a ride, and he’s a local, and knows exactly what to expect. The big route just happened to contain a whole weeks worth of climbing in one single solitary 100km day, not an appetising thought. When breakfast time finally came around we (or should I say I) had conceded that the ride would be far better divided into the original two-day plan, then maybe we could link things together after a few days of high mountain acclimatisation, maybe.

The ride over the Cote d’Arbroz and Col de la Ramaz may well make for a rather short 65kms loop, but along the way you take in four serious climbs. They may not be Tour immortalized, but believe me these backwater climbs are evil, and on a par with many of their more infamous cousins. The route climbs away from Morzine by weaving alongside a typically alpine valley. With little in the way of warm up time I was already scraping and jumping around at the bottom end of my gears, and sweating like a pig in the welcomed return of the alpine sun. These are relatively considered as back roads, thus are supremely traffic free, and perfect for away from it all alpine bike adventures.

Over the first col and the road plummets into a stunning forest clad alpine valley. The early summer wildflowers were in full flight, making for the perfect postcard vista, although it did little to detract from the continual climbing of the ride. Out of the valley the road reared up steeply and on towards the deserted ski resort at Praz de Lys, then over the baron and unforgiving Ramaz pass. As we made our way up a family of marmots scooted across before us, looking on in total bemusement.

Topping the Ramaz opens up one the most special vistas in the area; A rugged road carves it’s way through a rock face, clinging by its railings to the side of the steep valley, while bellow the flat floored valley is all neatly laid out before you, a truly welcoming sight. Unfortunately though the flatness doesn’t last too long, as there’s still the long and grinding climb back over the mountains to les gets to tackle before reaching the sanctuary of the chalets Jacuzzi. Either way we had indeed made the right decision in dividing the two rides, the Joux Plane would have been one climb too many for today.

Finally the dreaded day had dawned, the Joux Plane day. A sun soaked cloudless day aided by a cooling tail wind pushed us over the climb to Les Gets with a false sense of security. Over the mountains the road drops down to the neighbouring valley for a section of the only flat road in the region. Needless to say in a 60km ride with a couple of serious climbs this respite of flatness doesn’t last too long, and before you know it you swing left out of Samoens and hit the wall of the Joux Plane.

Yes it really is that face smackingly nasty. The first couple of kilometres are spitefully steep. The scenery may be quite charming and rustic, but you’ll be cursing it never the less. Things ease up a touch following this, but only for a few hundred metres, and the first section takes so much out of you that recovery is not really an option. From here on in it just gets tougher, as Lance himself found out.

Climbing up through the trees does little to mask the horror of the climbs intense steepness. Out of threes, but not out of the woods, you see it all panned out before you like a detention sentence. We’d taken a peep at the road a couple of days before, when mist had shrouded it’s horrors from us, no doubt purposely. The road climbs along the valley side in a huge horseshoe shape before you grovel over the writing on the road, which indicates the summit. But don’t be fooled! It flattens out for a short while, and then climbs up to a second and ultimate summit. The best thing about this point is that it finally signifies the end of the climbing, period.

One of the most enjoyable and twistyest of alpine descents awaits you, but take care. Many have fallen fowl of the drop from the Joux Plane, notably Senior Heras, who overshot the final bend, just a kilometre out form the stage finish in Morzine. But with an evening fondue and regional wine testing awaiting us there was no chance that I was going to allow that to happen.