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After many years of watching the Tour de France wind its way through the historic passes of the Alps, my brother Andy and I finally made it there ourselves in June 2008. The Alps were a major factor in our tour plans but we also wanted to see new places and travel point to point. After a few binned ideas and some potentially over ambitious plans for what we had decided was a holiday not a challenge, we came up with the Geneva to Venice route.
We took the week off, boxed the bikes up and flew out to Geneva hoping that the baggage handlers would be gentle with Andy's brand new Ribble. Having landed in Geneva, we held our breath until the bikes were back in one piece and in full working order...the ride was on! We promptly jumped on the bikes and set off in the wrong direction.
After correcting our first navigational error of the trip, we eventually arrived at our youth hostel in the city centre; basic, small and cheap - perfect! We spent the evening sat by Lake Geneva spotting mountain tops through the low cloud and worrying about the huge weight strapped onto the back of the bikes.
The next morning, after a croissant breakfast in town, we set off out of Geneva and up the log climb to the top of the Col de Aravis (1467m). We spent the morning winding up smaller and smaller roads immersed in ever improving scenery. We climbed through steep wooded gorges and past ski villages before emerging the landscape opened up close to the top of the climb to reveal a zig-zagging final stretch and two struggling French riders some way ahead of us. Rising to the bait and in need of some forward speed for my double chainset, I set off after capturing glory for Britain at the mountain top. Having inched my way past the French riders with a breathless grunt of acknowledgement, I climbed steadily to the Col. The still mountain air carried the tinkling of cow bells and the grunts of the cyclings working slowly up the flanks of the mountain. At the top, we celebrated our first Alpine pass with photos and crepes at a col-top cafe whilst comparing travel plans - the Frenchies were doing the Grand Traverse of the Alps, riding from Geneva to Nice and had already been over the Col du Telegraph earlier that morning!
Licking the nutella from our lips, we wrapped up and launched ourselves down the far side of the pass. The road led us down long sweeping curves and tight hairpin bends through magnificent scenery. We sped through tight gullies where the road edge was enclosed by narrow walls of rock, decended past rushing mountain streams and past small French churches. As we neared the valley bottom, the roads became busier and the mountains rose up around us. We were heading towards Chamonix, the capital of Alpine mountaineering, and we trying to catch a glimse of Mont Blanc that sits behind the town and soars to the highest point in Western Europe at 4807m. Several false sightings followed, each time with an increased level of awe. We sat on a road barrier eating a Mars bar whilst we took a breather and reflected on a fantastic day in the saddle and grinned with relief that the heavy bikes hadn't caused an issue. The clouds behind the ridge that faced momentarily cleared to reveal a snow covered ridge at an impossibly high altitude; Mont Blanc silently stood before us and the height of it took our breath away.
We drew nearer to Chamonix on the map and as we tired our thoughts started to turn towards getting the miles over and getting some food. As we studied the valley in front of us next to the map, it slowly became clear that a minor road marked on our map, running alongside the motorway didn't exist. The only way through to Chamonix was to cover a 5 mile stretch on the hard shoulder of the motorway. This wasn't the first time this has happened, and so stoked on by hunger we set of over a motorway viaduct listening to a chorus of French horns declaring their disapproval. We dived off the motorway directly in front of the Mont Blanc massif and rolled the final couple of miles into Chamonix weary but satisfied in a way that only a day on the bike can bring about. Good memories, great views and new places. After setting oursleves up in a great 2* hotel with a balcony overlooking the mountains, we re-fueled and relaxed with a beer.