Le Fin.
Friday was a typical Italian day – lazy… the plan was to drive to France, a supposedly short drive to the town of Orcieres, France for the second Super Enduro Euro Cup race. Initially the plan was to leave at 10 am. That plan was changed after the determination was made that it would be better to sleep till 10 and leave after lunch. On Friday morning, after several hours of milling around, Fraser and I started getting itchy to leave – as it was lunch time and there was no sign of the van to leave. At one, we were finally retrieved and informed that we were going to the restaurant for lunch (at the SLOWEST) restaurant in town… where we waited around for service, waited for food, and then waited for someone to show up. We finally left Sauze, stopped at Simon’s apartment to get some things, then finally, FINALLY, hit the road!
Hitting the road in Europe however, is more of an ideal than a reality. In Utah, I’ve grown quite accustomed to driving several hours to get to our weekend escape. Because everything is so close in Europe, two hour drives are far, and thus I was thrilled to learn that Orcieres was a “long drive” – two hours! The three of us were squeezed together in the front seat of the Euro van, with the back filled to the brim with bikes, bags and race gear. Unlike the US, drives involve winding one lane roads up and over mountains, through little towns, and reckless passing techniques.
The three of us joked along the way, listening to music and allowing the Garmin GPS to lead the way. However, unknown to Fraser and I, Simon had not entered the town of Orcieres, but the area code for the region…
After almost two hours of driving, we began winding through a French national park, the road and the scenery becoming more and more rural. In addition to the rapidly disappearing signs of civilization, we realized that we hadn’t passed a single sign for the town. Finally, we reached a small village and stopped for directions (and coffee, beer and crepes – thank you France) and were informed that yes, the road we were on lead to Orcieres… decades ago. The GPS had brought us directly to the opposite side of the ski resort, and the road upon which we were traveling ended abruptly just beyond the village. Thus, we had to turn around and drive back, and around – an additional hour and a half!
Five and a half hours after leaving Sauze, we finally made it to the resort and were excited for French food and to ride the trails we’d heard such good things about. After a small hiccup with the hotels, we’d all settled in, found a restaurant, and had settled in for the evening.
Saturday morning came all too quickly. The lifts open at 8:30, far earlier than in leisurely Italy, and in anticipation of the riding, we decided that it would be a good idea to get up early. However, the trails, much like the food, proved somewhat lackluster. Like much of what we’ve ridden, the trails were man-made and relatively easy. In addition, the air was crisp, and the chairlift to the top of the mountain was absolutely freezing. Thankfully, after a morning of disappointing riding, we ate a terrific lunch!
After eating a lunch composed almost entirely of cheese, I decided that it would be a good idea for me to ride my DH bike cross-country. So I pedaled up to the top of the mountain on my 40lb bike! That definitely kept me warm! I hadn’t completely decided if I wanted to race this weekend, as I wasn’t incredibly impressed with the two stages I’d ridden thus far, but wanted to check out the first stage to see how it would be. I set out on the narrow ridge-side trail and quickly realized that this wasn’t going to be a climb like last week – this would REALLY be a climb! Like rock climb.
The trail was essentially a 1/4 of a mile across a scree field, and involved hefting your bike on your back and scrambling across the rocks to the start of the first stage – about 3/4 of a mile from the trail, but a 40 minute trek. The first stage of the race was along the same ridge trail – cut sharply across the ridge, with loose rocks, sharp turns and a dramatic drop below the trail. However, although the trails were largely unremarkable from a riding standpoint, the views were among the most stunning I’ve ever seen… a bad combination when paying attention to views results in wandering eyes…
Saturday night was amusing, to say the least. After my cross country adventure, I was starving, but the race bbq didn’t start until 8. In an effort to get my mind off of eating my own arm, Fraser suggested we go bowling, which succeeded to divert my attention until the bbq smells began to waft in. After eating, we were blessed with some spectacular French entertainment – a frenchmen singing Tracy Chapman, ZZ Top (complete with fake beard) and a variety of French country songs. Needless to say, we called it an early night.
Sunday morning, I woke up with a casual attitude. I decided to race, and was able to talk the promotor into letting me register a half hour before the race started. I rode for fun, and enjoyed myself far more than the sufferfest of a race last weekend. I finished the race and was simply relaxed and happy to be riding my bike in France. I think I’ve realized that my trip is coming to an end and how tremendously fortunate I’ve been to have gotten this opportunity to grow as a rider, meet new people, spend time with old friends and explore new countries. And apparently, in France I’m fast – I got 3rd! Whoooo! Hopefully my medal doesn’t weigh down my luggage too much!
Ciao for now…
