It’s our second layover day in Vence, and while Rachael’s off climbing into the nearby foothills I’m biking east out of town on a loop that will bring me around to Col de Vence from the north before dropping back into Vence at the end. Until seeing that sign for it yesterday I wasn’t aware that there was a Col de Vence, but I was aware of the route from having already scoped out the roads around town before we decided to base ourselves here - it’s the high point on Route D2, the only paved road leaving Vence to the north.
Starting from Vence, it’s a seven mile climb to the summit at a very steady 6.5-7% grade, which is a decent piece of work. I’ll be approaching it from the north though, when there’s not much to the climb at all - with its summit at roughly 3,100’, it’s essentially a just speed bump dropping down from the highest point of my loop at 3,300’ just below Coursegoules. My real work comes in the climb up to Coursegoules, but that’s a concern for later. For now I’ll enjoy fairly easy riding as I head east toward the Var and then follow it north on a balcony road for the first hour or so.
For the moment, my main concern is the weather, and in particular the visibility. I’m hoping to get views east to the Maritime Alps again as I follow the Var north, but at the moment it’s overcast and I suspect the mountains will be hidden behind the clouds.
Leaving Vence. The formations rise abruptly from the north side of town. It’s no surprise there’s but the one round to the north from here. Looking ahead, there’s a significant gap between those two crags where the Cagne River cuts through from just the other side of the Col de Vence, but there’s no road through there.
Looking down from Saint-Jeannet at the viaduct across the Cagne, the river cutting in from the north that I mentioned earlier. The viaduct is a remnant of a former tram line from Vence to the coast at Cagne-Sur-Mer.
I was anticipating some great mountain vistas as I followed my balcony road north up the Var, and I’m not disappointed. The big surprise though, and the real highlight for the next ten miles is the views I get of the perched villages, most of which are the same ones we saw biking in to Vence two days ago. I’m on a different road though, a few hundred feet higher up the valley wall, high enough that I get to look down on them from above this time.
Looking across the Var. On the right is Gattières, one of the villages we admired earlier. It’s even more impressive seen from above.
The perspective from higher up makes this a special ride, but it’s also delightful because it’s so much quieter. It’s an older road, in places still unpaved and almost impassible by normal motor vehicles - I came to the first of these unpaved stretches when I was startled to have a delivery van filling the single lane road coming my direction, in reverse. He’d apparently completed his mission and was in retreat, the road too narrow to turn around and the road ahead impassible.
So, of course, ideal if you’re on a bike. For a pair of unpaved stretches of about a half mile each I enjoyed nearly an hour cycling above the villages on a nearly traffic-free road.
Just past Le Broc I round a formation and turn westward away from the Var and up the valley of the Bouyon, a minor tributary of the Esteron. This is where the day’s climb begins. For the next eight miles I generally follow it, climbing about 1,700’ at a steady 5-6% grade. Nothing physically painful, and the scenery is splendid as I climb up the south side of the canyon to a deep switchback that crosses the river and keeps climbing, but back toward the Var now as it gains elevation. Eventually it reaches the ridgetop village of Bouyon that we’ve been admiring from the distance, reverses direction again on the back side of the village and continues climbing further still.
It’s a wonderful ascent, in particular right now with the brilliant autumn foliage blanketing the slopes.
Another pretty face we recognize by now: Gillette, straddling the point above the confluence of the Var and Esteron.
Looking across the Var, we get a different perspective on La Roquette-sur-Var. From here you can’t tell that we’re just seeing the tip of a pencil-shaped village capping its ridge.
Looking across the Bouyon. for awhile I thought I’d be riding that road opposite, after passing through the village of Bouyon; but I’ll double back before then on a road you can’t see from this side of the valley. If we ever come back here though I’d love to continue on that road, D1, the route to Roquesteron; and beyond that to Puget-Theniers, Entrevaux, Colmars, Barcelonnette! Maybe not with the panniers next time though.
Finally the climb tops out above 3,300’, just beneath the village of Coursegoules. From here the work is essentially done for the day. The next four miles descend slightly into a shallow dish and crosses the Cagne before climbing back up through the Col de Vance.
The view west along the line of the Cheiron Massif. Just beyond that rise in the center must be roughly where we stopped for lunch on a ride up the Loup yesterday, maybe two or three miles from here.
The light is poor here, but I wanted to remember looking down the canyon carved by the Cagne, the river that comes out the other side just below Vence. There’s no road down that wild canyon, and I don’t think even a walking route.
Another view across the Cagne canyon. I recognize that rugged formation, which we see from below by Vence also. There are better views of it from the hike Rachael took today.
I arrive at the summit at about 2:30 and am pleased to find a flat slab there in the sun, a perfect spot to finally sit and have my lunch. I feel good about myself, the sunny conditions, and the time of day. With a 2,000’ drop in seven miles just ahead, I’ve got plenty of time to make it in before it starts getting too darkish. And I’m especially pleased about the sun - it feels warmer up here than I feared it might, and I look forward to biking into it on the descent. I’m not really worried about the cold, and am thinking more about whether safety will be an issue with the sun ahead affecting the ability of drivers behind to see me through the glare
That all changes almost immediately after I start descending though. I go about a hundred yards, take a photo of the road ahead, and suddenly it goes dark. I look behind me and see that the sun has just dropped below a solid cloud bank, unlikely to reappear today. Almost immediately it feels about ten ten degrees colder.
I’ve got all my layers on, but descending into a cold headwind for seven miles definitely takes it’s toll. I’m starting to feel seriously cold with about three miles yet to go, and start counting off the remaining distance at each tenth of a mile - audibly, to keep my spirits up. I really should have packed my warm gloves and long pants, but there’s nothing to be done now but to concentrate and ride it out.
Rachael arrives just minutes before me, if that - I can see her position on the Garmin and it looks like I might even beat her to the hotel, which would be wonderful because she could help me lift the bike up the stairs. I’m too late though and she’s already in our room when I enter. She’s keen to share the details of her wonderful hike of course, but I hold her off until after I’ve spent some time in a hot shower. It’s only after I’m out that the shakes begin, and still another few hours until I feel the beginnings of a raspy throat coming on. Uh, oh.
Not the high point of day, but worth some recognition.
The beginning of the descent, and the end of the sunlight. It went behind the clouds almost immediately after this shot, and stayed there for the next seven downhill miles. Cold, cold, cold.
Ride stats today: 33 miles, 3,400’; for the tour: 2,117 miles, 118,100’
Today's ride: 33 miles (53 km) Total: 2,117 miles (3,407 km)
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Susan CarpenterUh, oh is right - and oh so wrong to come down with something in the final days of a spectacular tour. Or anytime, for that matter. I certainly hope that this delayed posting is an indication that you’re feeling a bit better. Reply to this comment 1 year ago
Scott AndersonTo Susan CarpenterYup. Timing could have been better, but I’m definitely on the mend. A shame that I shared it in the meantime though. Reply to this comment 1 year ago
