To Guillestre: On the low route, dodging the rain

June 12, 2015

It took some courage to face the road this morning. After yesterday's glorious break in the weather, we're back in a wet pattern again. Today it is raining steadily, and the forecast is for it to continue all day, with thunderstorms, at times severe. Accordingly, we changed our plans: instead of going northeast and over col du Vars, we're going to go downriver and take the longer way around the mountains to Guillestre. We're adding almost 20 miles, but it doesn't feel safe to be heading up into the mountains today and we wouldn't see anything anyway.

Over breakfast I am impressed to see several bikers in their riding gear - they must be pretty tough to be suiting up for a ride today. As we leave the hotel though, I'm less impressed - they're yukking it up under the carport and loading their bikes into their cars and vans. They're off to hole up somewhere for the morning and ride in the afternoon - their weather report predicts that it will dry out by then. Sure hope they're right.

After staring at the rain from the carport for awhile we finally muster up enough courage to set off. It's always so hard to start off on a long ride in the rain, envisioning what the coming four hours or so will bring. It starts out easily enough though, because it's all downhill and downriver along the Ubaye for the next 15 miles. D900 is a busier and narrower road than we'd prefer to ride in the rain, but the cars and trucks all give us plenty of room. We keep our heads down and make good time, with no reason to look up or slow down. My main memory of the next hour is staring at the image of Rachael's magenta raincoat reflected in the glistening pavement beneath her.

Leaving Barcelonnette: prepare for the worst, hope for the best.

Leaving Barcelonnette. Not as biker-friendly this morning.

After 15 miles, we leave busy D900 and veer off onto very quiet D954, still following the Ubaye downriver. At almost exactly this point, we break out of the rain. It's like we stepped through a door in a fairy tale - suddenly, we're cycling on a lovely, traffic-free road along the river under grey but dry skies. We can't believe our luck. Soon we're drying out and peeling off layers and feeling hopeful that maybe we'll arrive at the hotel dry tonight after all.

The Ubaye, at about the last point it still runs free. Just down river it merges in with Lake Serre-Ponchon.

Looking back upriver on the Ubaye, at a point where it has become an arm of Lake Serre-Ponchon, the reservoir on the Durance. Looking back a mile or two, it looks like it's still raining.

This tunnel was almost too long. From the other end it didn't look that long because it's so straight, but by the middle it was very dark and hard to navigate.

We're glad to be on the dry side of the ridge.

We can't quite believe the day is really drying out.

The next miles on D954 are increasingly scenic. We continued following the Ubaye until it is finally swallowed up by Lake Serre-Ponchon, a reservoir on the Durance and the largest man made lake in Europe. In today's light, the lake is a lovely almost glacial blue, set off by dramatic eroded dark cliffs of black marl (around here, they call this terre noire). The marl is a large Jurassic sedimentary formation that underlies the land here, adding striking contrast to the landscape wherever it breaks through. I'd enjoyed looking at this yesterday on the way to Jausiers also, not knowing what I was looking at.

We cycle along the reservoir for several miles, enjoying the views and especially the brightening skies. Soon we come to the first big climb of the day, as the road rises over a small ridge and gains about 800 feet. It's a beautiful climb, rising up above the lake and broadening our views. Looking down at it, it looks like a large freshwater fjord.

And, to top off this lovely little climb, we found an attractive restaurant to check out. As we looked over the menu trying to figure out if it was our place or not, an attractive young lady came out and in weak English helped us make up our minds.

A cliff of black marl (terre noire) on the far bank of Lake Serre-Ponchon.

Lake Serre-Ponchon on the Durance is the largest man made lake in Europe.

In Le Sauze du Lac, our lunch break for the day. That sort of looks like me, but it's Rachael borrowing my jersey for a bit.

After a good light lunch (Rachael especially like her plate of samosas, of all things to find here), we dropped down the other side of the ridge again and soon came to Les Demesoilles Coiffes (the hatted ladies?), a weird line of hoodoos running up the ridge. The geology of this region is extremely interesting, but this is especially a surprise. There is a short path up to them with explanation boards and a photo of what they looked like 50 years ago. From this, it looks like they're eroding and toppling at a fast pace.

From here we continued on D994 to its end at Savines le Lac, where it dumps into the busy N94. The next eight miles were frankly a crappy ride - a minimal, poorly surfaced shoulder separated us from a steady stream of fast-moving traffic. We were more than happy to get off finally and onto quieter side roads again.

At the oddly named Pont Neuf (looks like it's been around for quite a long time actually), we picked up the beautiful D994D, another lovely cycling road that labels itself the Balcony of the Durance. We gradually rise high above the lake again for more great views; then downhill again where we are dumped back onto the crappy N94 again, but fortunately for only a half mile or so. The last couple of miles to Guillestre are flat and quiet, but the town itself defeats us at the end - it rises very steeply from the river, at perhaps 15%. We're both tired and feeling the effects of yesterday's big climb, and are contented to walk our bikes for a few blocks into the town.

Finally, as a remarkable end to what's been a surprisingly fine day, we are warmly greeted at our hotel and stunned by their offerings - breakfast starting at 6:30, and free laundry service. They handed us laundry bags when we checked in, and told us to fill them up. Unbelievable.

The surreal Les Demoiselles Coifees, a line of hoodoos near Embrun. Better see them soon - looks like they're crumbling at a fast rate.

Point Neuf, the old bridge across the Durance upriver from Embrun.

The latticework of Pont Neuf on the Durance.

Looking acros the Durance valley westward toward the Ecrins. Just beyond them is the Vercors, where we cycled about 10 days or so ago. The Durance River is just visible in the foreground, at the base of the black marl cliffs.

Today's ride: 49 miles (79 km)
Total: 897 miles (1,444 km)

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