Day 6: Mapping Mishap

 Groundhog Day. 

Alarm: pack tent: breakfast: pack bike: ride bikes. 

It was all becoming very straightforward. No less unsafe and efficiency, but straightforward nonetheless. 

Breakfast was - by the high standards set by the Refuges - disappointing. Stale bread, jam and a bowl of coffee, which I eventually managed to convince them to pop some milk in. Yes, cold milk would be fine, thank you. 

Sharing our breakfast table was a French couple who we’d met at dinner last night, and were exploring this part of the alps by e-bike. Good on them, it was fantastic to see them enjoying the trails, something which they both confessed they would be unable to do without the aid of a motor. 

The ride had an unforgiving start, climbing for about 3km at around 8% across the gravel. Dare I say - it was already hot. 

We were anticipating around 12km of gravel before hitting the road down to the Rova valley, and then following the turquoise river through a gorge. 

But I’m getting ahead of myself. 

At the end of the 3km climb, the path flattened and started a long descent towards - well none of us really knew. This was proper remote stuff, no signposts, no phone signal, no vehicles (they close the gravel roads to motorised transport in Tuesdays and Thursdays) and no ability to gauge direction, except by the sun and good luck to anyone wanting to look up at that for too long. 

After the requisite 12km, the path turned off on what looked like a footpath going straight up a field. There looked to be a gravel alternative

which switchbacked up to a communication tower. We assumed that would be the road. 

But no. 

The gravel continued; by now we had drifted away from the planned route altogether, but given that the planned route was intent on taking us along tiny footpaths, we weren’t too worried. 

That was until the gravel path turned “proper gnarly”, with steep drops, big rocks and chunky steps. It was hard going, to say the least, and just kept going and going. We didn’t really have much option but to keep following the path; guessing directions at junctions and not knowing where we were. 

After about 10km, the gravel started to settle down to a more manageable size, and we were able to pick up speed. We then started to see proper road signs, directing to all sorts of lovely places; none of which we wanted to go. 

Fortunately, some kind individual had gone to the trouble of carving signs to “La Brigue”. It was there that we were headed and we followed those signs religiously for a further 12km before finally being spat out onto a tarmac road a couple of km above La  Brigue. 

I’d promised Drew 12km on gravel. I’d delivered 44km. You’d have thought he’d have been happy…..

Always leave them wanting more as the saying goes: it’s fair to say that neither Drew or I wanted more. Beautiful and adventurous as it was, it was damn hard work. 

And do we set about getting a coke & a sandwich. We’d done the first 44km on a few slices of stale bread, food was required. 

I think partly due to the remote nature of our surroundings and the time (3pm - firmly in the window of French sleepy time) we found nothing and kept going until we located a petrol station by the side of the road. 

That’ll do. 

We feasted on ice cream, coke and a pastry thingy before carrying on down the valley and before long tackling the 9km climb of Col de Briouse. 

It was pleasant enough, but exposed in the full sun which made for a tough ride up. I was running low on water and took my last sip of the 4 litres I’d started out with just before reaching the top. 

Luckily for me there was a fountain at the top and I enjoyed a full bidon before refilling both and finishing them on the descent down to Sospel. 

Our campsite was 4km outside of town and the pair of us limped up hill to get there. It was a lovely campsite with a limitless supply of hot water in the showers and beer in the fridge. 

Just one problem. It didn’t serve food. 

So we got cleaned up, put the tents up, climbed back on our bikes and nursed them 4km back into town for Pizza, then nursed them 4km back up the hill to the campsite, and bed. 

Another tough day, albeit a hugely memorable one.