"I want to ride the Vallée du Joux and go STRAIGHT up the Col du Marchairuz," said I, feeling full of piss and vinegar last week.
I've ridden the steep side (there's also an easier side) of the Col du Marchairuz two times two years ago when I was much too sick to even attempt it. The good news: this time, I felt healthy and strong enough to actually withstand that kind of torture. The bad news: the climb still felt the same as it did two years ago---like I was pedalling in peanut butter. Ouch! The Col du Mash-a-who!
That restaurant in back has some killer salads. I'm totally bringing some CHFs next ride. Totes. Mr. Wild Dingo is not jazzed about this idea.
Like I need this sign to describe the climbs here. Directional and to the point. It's so Swiss.
The main challenge to riding any of the hard climbs in Switzerland is to get used to climbing 2500 feet right out the door, before you reach the base of any major climb. I'm so used to putting on a lot miles, but now I put on more elevation and fewer miles. I'm not complaining. I like to climb as long as I know it's a climb. But Mr. Wild Dingo loves to torture me with mind-fracks like "this isn't a climb, this a warm up" and "this is flat, not a false flat."
Romainmotier is one of my favorite areas to ride through. Nestled between mountain ranges in the Jura, it feels magical. I can see why the monks settled here and can almost feel the peace wave over me as I ride through the town. Or maybe that was the 4 gillion feet of climbing I had to do to get there.
Mr. Wild Dingo and I are headed for seven days of riding in France. For a variety of reasons (mainly that I'm not race-fit anymore and I prefer to lolly-gag and take photos) I am not his favorite riding partner. Can you believe that Internet?
Let the torture begin!
I love that sign. I need framed print to hang just outside my office. That would be great.