The Haute Route by Bike (but Higher, Faster, Harder!)

Last year, I managed to convince a friend Tom, to ride from Chamonix to Zermatt off-road, on a route put together by long hours staring at maps, and snippets of information found on websites of companies who guide the route. 

The classic Walker’s Alpine Haute Route obviously travels from and to the same places, but on a much higher route that is assumed to be unrideable by bike. We carried all of our stuff for the week long trip, bivvying on route. The trip was great, a real adventure through truly spectacular scenery, but although we found some real gems of descents, we also rode a lot of boring fire-roads, and felt unable to thoroughly enjoy the good descents due to the weight of stuff on our backs. 

I hadn’t thought it was something I would repeat for a while, until Tom sent a link from a website, to a video put together by 2 German riders, who had ridden the Haute Route, along some of the best trails we had found, but also following much more closely the Walker’s route, crossing several high Alpine cols, and ultimately being rewarded with more incredible, long, technical descents. I think Tom had forwarded it out of interest, but was maybe not expecting my response of “Let’s ride their route!” He didn’t take too much convincing though, and a plan was soon hatched to meet up this summer and once again ride the mythical Haute route…but a bigger, higher, more awesome version ;)

Riding high on the Haute Route (Big thanks to Tom for all the fantastic photos he took on the trip! Most of these are his!)

We both agreed that we wanted to be able to enjoy, and properly ride the descents, unencumbered by a heavy bag. So for this year, bivvying was out, staying in huts and hotels was in J. Despite this, it’s hard to get a bag of everything you need for a week’s trip down to a weight that feels like that of a day bag. Once you have a change of clothes, 3 litres of water, food for the day, tools and spares, a waterproof, first aid kit…it all adds up. Still, it was way lighter than last year’s bag, and didn’t take too much getting used to.

Coming straight from a stint of 4 weeks non-stop guiding, I have to say I felt tired, and a little apprehensive that Tom was coming from a desk job, rested and full of energy for the trip!

We met up in Chamonix the day before starting, where Tom was already looking worried about the size of some of the days he had planned. Last year, it was me with the time available to do all the planning, whereas this year, Tom had taken on that job, and I had the benefit of being blissfully unaware of what the days would entail, other than some big climbs, and some amazing descents…how hard could it be?

Tom riding high above Chamonix

The first day took us from Chamonix to Verbier, on the same route we had taken last year, closely following the route of the Tour of Mont Blanc. We had the advantage of remembering the route and not needing to get the map out to navigate, meaning we seemed to fly through the day. A year of riding and guiding on technical trails has definitely improved my riding, and I felt faster and more confident on all the descents, especially having a lighter bag than last year too. Tom seemed surprised, and momentarily a little bit disappointed, that rather than having to stop and wait for me, I was right on his back wheel! We finished the day early and it had felt a whole lot easier than the same ride last year, not a bad thing when the following few days looked as long and tough as they did…

Chamonix to Verbier trails

The second day was almost completely on trails new to us, and we had no idea what they would be like. Looking at the maps showed we would be going high, very high, almost 3000m high, from the bottom of the valley…it was going to be a long day. In fact the two german guys who had ridden the route had split our second day into two days (gulp). Fortunately, a chair lift eased the pain of part of the first climb, and we were soon descending on some of the great sections of woodland singletrack off the back of the hill above Verbier. Rooty, pine-needle blanketed tracks that are fast, flowy and swoopy are always a good start to any day! Rather than climb for hours out of that valley as we had done last year, we then began to follow a trail which followed the course of an old saxon water irrigation channel, contouring all the way around the hillside. It was a fantastic trail, not too technical (apart from the odd section that was too narrow to ride due to our handlebars not fitting between the fence on one side and the rocks on the other!), and went on for about 15km. 

  

Saxon water-channel north shore!

Every so often we were treated to glimpses of the valley below and the scenery beyond, before having to turn thoughts back to the trail to avoid crashing on the exposed narrow sections where the hillside dropped away below us, and a watery tumble awaited if we fell the other way into the canal! Unfortunately, we came across some conservation volunteers part way along the trail, who informed us that we really weren’t allowed to be there on bikes…thankfully they were happy to let us continue this time….a good job, as I really couldn’t have faced descending to the valley to climb back out again, given how much climbing we already had ahead of us!

The first part of the day was definitely the easiest, and from lunchtime onwards, the serious business of climbing up and over the Col de Riedmatten began. A long switchback road climb in the heat of the midday sun took us up the first 700m of elevation gain, before we arrived at the impressive Barrage and Lac des Dix, a massive reservoir and dam, complete with hotel and chairlift up from the bottom to the top of the dam. 

Lac des Dix

Depressingly, bikes are not allowed on the lift, so the 300m of climbing I had thought we would save, we didn’t. More worryingly, a shop attendant informed us bikes weren’t allowed on the side of the dam at all. Our route took us all the way along the side of the reservoir and climbed up the Col and over into the Arolla valley beyond. If we couldn’t use these trails, we had no idea how far round we would have to go by road to reach our hotel in Arolla, but it could easily have been 50km or more. We decided we would have to go for it and hope no-one stopped us, and quietly began pushing up the track to the top of the dam. 

Reaching the top and starting to ride along the reservoir, it was hard to understand the reasoning behind not allowing bikes up here….we were riding on a huge hard-packed gravel surfaced track, that obviously had frequent landrover and 4 by 4 use! Anyway, no-one stopped us, and as usual, all the walkers we met were friendly and cheerful as we passed. At the end of the reservoir, the real climb started….

Almost immediately we were shouldering the bikes, and slowly picking our way up the rocky steep narrow track. A few puzzled walkers looked at us in disbelief, not the last time that would happen during the week! 

Crossing the glacial moraine on the way to the Col de Riedmatten

Slowly carrying up to the Col

The climb seemed to go on forever, getting increasingly steeper and more awkward. We were walking across glacial moraine, big loose boulders, steep scree, and deep soft snow in several places, and the Col never seemed to be getting closer. Towards the end, I adopted my approach of counting 10 steps repeatedly in my head, until I’d done 40 or 50, then I’d treat myself to a small stop and a breather…I only ever do this when I’m really tired and trying to just keep going! 

Almost at the top!

My shoulders, back, legs and lungs were exhausted, and I was seriously starting to question what had possessed me to want to do this trip. It was the longest, toughest hike-a-bike I’d ever done, and I have to say, I wasn’t even sure it qualified as type 2 fun…

The Top....finally!

Reaching the top, with a view of the ribbon of trail that was to be our 1200m descent to Arolla opening up before us, it all suddenly didn’t seem that bad J Despite having to get off and walk the ridiculously steep, loose, first couple of switchbacks (never a good thing on descents, especially having had to put in that much effort to get there in the first place), it was a great trail….if you like steep, seriously technical, rocky, exposed singletrack. I do, a lot, but at the end of an epic day, I was struggling to feel like I was riding at my best, something which this trail required to get the best out of it. Concentrating enough to react at speed to the technicality of the trail and ride it safely was difficult too, but despite all of this, it was brilliant. 

Two thirds of the way down, with arms pumped from the amount of braking required and from moving the bike around on the rocky trail, I was tempted to take the fire road we were crossing, down to the bottom. It felt like a crash was inevitable if I tried to ride the next section of singletrack. Tom made me at least ride over the crest we were on so I could see the trail before making a decision. Reluctantly I agreed, actually thinking in my head that I would still be taking the fire-road. 

Alpine singletrack snaking down through pretty meadows

My eyes were met with a view of a pretty much perfect trail. The kind of one you see pictures of in bike magazines and spend days dreaming about riding, endlessly snaking its way down through alpine meadows and into the woods. Tom shrugged his shoulders, grinning from ear to ear, not needing to say anything. I groaned, knowing I couldn’t resist riding it, but also knowing how bad an idea it was given how tired we were! Telling myself I would ride slowly and sensibly, I set off. That didn’t last long…the trail didn’t disappoint, and it was impossible not to pedal and pump harder, pick up speed and fly around hairpins, whooping with delight. It was a great end to the day’s riding, and that night’s dinner of pizza (only the 3^rd night in a row, but ok as not many people know, but pizza is actually one of your essential food groups…..or so I heard…) tasted particularly good.

The following day took us from Arolla to the town of St Luc. Once again we would be climbing over a 2900m col, the Col du Torrent, from the valley below, but it looked like a good portion of it would be rideable on road and fireroad. Making an early start before the temperature rose too much, we seemed to cover the distance quickly, and even once we were pushing, the trail was so much easier to negotiate than the previous day’s climb, that it was almost enjoyable! 

The view of big mountains through the clouds from the Col

Tom looking down from the Col de Torrent

The descent from the top, down to the startlingly blue Lac du Moiry, was incredible. Less technical than the previous day, with more flowy sections and less tight corners, it was almost as if it had been created for bikes and not just as a walker’s path. The climb over the col had certainly been worth it this time J From there we joined a descent down to the pretty town of Grimentz that we had ridden last year. 

The fun descent from the Col de Torrent

Sweet trails down to the Lac du Moiry

And once again, without the weight of heavy bags, and a year’s more riding on technical trails, it was even better than I’d remembered. Another wonderful contouring piece of woodland singletrack took us round the side of the valley without losing too much height, and then a short push up next to a pretty waterfall led us to our hostel for the night.

The next day, storms were forecast, and we were going to have to climb over two high cols to reach our destination of St Niklaus. I woke with a sore throat, headache, and total lack of energy. It seemed the non-stop previous couple of months of work had caught up with me L Knowing you have at least 3000m of climbing ahead of you, most of it pushing or carrying, is not a motivating thought in these circumstances, especially when it then starts to rain.

Pushing up to the Meiden pass

As we started the slow, slog upwards at the start of the day, I knew my pace had slowed, but I couldn’t will my legs to move any faster, there was nothing there. I felt tired, weak, and pretty low. I was lost in my own little world, concentrating on just placing one foot in front of the other and not looking up at the mammoth hills in front of us. I started to try and motivate myself, as I often do nowadays, by thinking what Gareth would have said to me to cheer me up and motivate me…on this occasion it didn’t help….It simply made me think of his lovely smile and gentle voice, and reminded me how much I still miss him, especially on big shared adventures such as this. Tom realised I was struggling, and we stopped for a while to chat about memories of Gareth and his crazy antics on his bike, and trips shared in the past. It helped, and with refreshed enthusiasm I started plodding once again. 

View from the Meidenpass

Technical descending from the Meidenpass...

...after some awkward off-camber snow pushing!

The first pass, the Meidenpass, after a bit of pushing over some deep snow patches, had an amazing descent down (notice the theme for the descents on this trip yet?!), that once again made you forget about the uphill slog you’d completed to get there. A brief stop in the valley at the bottom followed, while we drank coffee and assessed the fact that we couldn’t see the next hill through the heavy clouds and rain, and whether it was sensible to go over the next pass when thunderstorms were forecast and we had been told it was snowing at 3000m! We decided that we could always start the climb, then whizz back down if it got really bad…we hadn’t come all this way to be stopped from completing the trip by a bit of rain!

Tom helpfully pointing out the way to the top of the Augstbordpass

The climb was nowhere near as bad as we’d imagined, in fact, after the Col de Riedmatten on the second day, none of the passes had seemed that hard. 

Start of the descent

The super fun descent through Embd

We descended from Augstbordpass across snow to start with, then down along pristine singletrack skirting the side of the valley, and onto some awesome steep switchbacks, before getting into Embd and following the brilliant trail we had found the year before, down to the valley. It was for me, the best descent of the trip, a 2000m plus glorious piece of riding varied and totally awesome trails…I immediately wanted to do it again once we reached the bottom! It felt pretty special to know very few people have probably made the effort to take bikes up there, we were part of a privileged few to have ridden those trails.

We ate at the best pizza restauarant in the world (according to Tom) that night, and I maintained my record of pizza every night for a week!

The Matterhorn....how a mountain should look!

The next day, unlike last year, we woke to blue skies, and a view of the Matterhorn above Zermatt. Joining the tourists, we jumped on the Gornergraat train after handing over an extortionate amount of money, and headed up to ride the trail we had been waiting 2 years to ride. 

Not a bad view from the top of the Gornergrat train

The view was staggering, and riding a trail to the backdrop of one of the most distinguishable mountains in the world is undoubtedly pretty special, but it was a bit of an anticlimax. The trail was a bit too sanitized compared to the natural rockfests we’d been riding all week, and the hundreds of walkers meant we couldn’t ride at a speed that made it fun. 

Tom trying to keep his eyes on the trail and not the nice pointy mountain!

It also seemed a bit out of keeping with the rest of the trip, not to have “earned” the descent. Instead of spending hours pushing up a hill to get to the top, we’d jumped on a train…the trail felt like less of a reward than usual. Lower down it headed into the woods and steeply switchbacked its way down on rooty, techy trails with buckets of exposure. That bit was good :)

From there we quickly bought lunch before hopping on the train back to Chamonix. Well, we were sold a ticket to Chamonix. Unfortunately, during one of the changes, at Martigny, I noticed a sign saying no trains were running past the Swiss/French border, and instead a replacement bus was running from there to Chamonix. However, the same thing had happened last year, and the replacement bus doesn’t carry bikes. Feeling tired and argumentative at the prospect of having to now pedal over the Col des Montets and down to Chamonix, an extra 18km we hadn’t planned, I went and argued with the man in the ticket office (in French no less….very proud of myself J ) how it was outrageous that a train replacement service didn’t offer the same service as the train would have done, and demanded my money back after being sold a ticket which was unusable, by someone who knew full-well that we wouldn’t be able to use it with our bikes. After a long-winded process we ended up better off…(only 2 euros 50, but that wasn’t the point!).

I swore under my breath at the replacement bus as it passed us slowly pedalling up the Col des Montets later, and gave the most evil glare I could in case the driver was looking in his mirror…probably not, the French don’t seem to use them much. Anyway, it made me feel better! It actually wasn’t bad, and we were soon sprinting down through Chamonix, trying to get to my friends Jim and Alison’s in Les Houches before the storm that was rapidly moving up the valley hit us. We didn’t quite make it, but were greeted by cups of tea, warm showers, and a visit to the local curry house for dinner to celebrate the end of a successful and awesomely fun trip :) 

Once again, it felt a bit weird to be finished, but it was nice to have a lie-in the following morning, slowly wander around the market in Chamonix, and look at the photos we’d taken, remembering all the best bits of the trip.
I think an ideal Haute route on bike would be a bit of a mix of the 2 routes we’ve now ridden, but I’m not sure that’ll be next year’s adventure….I think I’ve spotted a new even bigger, higher challenge, there’s just the small problem of working out how to cross glaciers with a bike….

Sun, scenery, and a slower pace of life...

What a great couple of months it’s been since I arrived in France. I’ve probably already mentioned it in my last blog or on facebook posts, but I’m enjoying it so much I can’t stop telling people!

Fellow TP guides Ben, Chris and Emily enjoying the late evening light by the river near Clamensane 

I’m working in the best job I’ve ever had, surrounded every day by the most staggering scenery, riding my bike along incredible trails where it’s impossible not to whoop with delight all the way down, and finish grinning from ear to ear. Every day I wake up and can’t quite believe I’m in yet another beautiful place, working with a great team of like-minded people, and generally awesome guests who are equally as excited about the trip as I am. Even though there are busy and at times stressful moments when things don’t go to plan, I feel relaxed and calm, and like I have a sense of inner peace that I haven’t felt for a long time.

Taking a break on the Col des Champs

There are always the days and moments when I miss Gareth from the bottom of my heart, but recently, even when I’ve been missing him, although it’s still painful, and I’m sure always will be, I can picture his cheeky grin as though he’d just ridden the same trail or seen the same view I just have, and smile because somewhere I know he’s glad that I’m starting to feel like this.

I’m seriously loving riding my bike at the moment, and maybe even starting to ride it in the way Gareth was able to (ok, perhaps not quite as rad as that! But I’m definitely faster, smoother and feeling relaxed and comfortable in moving the bike around to feel more flow on the trails than I was at the start of the summer). Last week’s group was probably the most fun to ride with of the whole summer, and Sandra, Pat, Toby and I had a great week working together and showing the guests trails which they were uber enthusiastic about.

Last week's guests still smiling despite all the pushing!

Just one of many fantastic balcony trails high in the Maritime Alps

Another spectacular view

 This week is my last week of work before a 3 week break, and I’m mainly driving, as Ash is guiding a group of product designers and photographers from the US around the Trans Provence route as they test some new gear and get photos and video footage for promotional material. They are a nice bunch of guys, and in between all the shuttle driving to and from trails, I’ve been able to ride up and meet them for some of the descents. To be honest, it’s been nice to have a week with a bit less riding, as 3 weeks guiding the trip without a day off is hard work physically and mentally! I've been enjoying the driving and a bit of time to myself in the van listening to music, and appreciating the places I'm passing through.

The pretty perched village of Roubion

Driving through incredible scenery every day

It’s also been good to have an easier week, as the first part of my “holiday” is riding the Haute route from Chamonix to Zermatt next week. Tom and I rode it last year, carrying all our kit and bivvying en route. It was great, but this time we’re going lightweight, staying in huts and hotels so we don’t have to carry as much and can shred the descents J. One of the other TP guides Toby is joining us for a day or two as well, and this year we’re taking a slightly different route…involving more carrying and pushing no doubt, but also even more amazing long alpine descents….It’s fair to say I’m pretty excited! If you hadn’t already realised, this is the kind of big mountain, epic trip that I live for J

After that I’m joining some friends in the Ardeche for a couple of chilled out weeks sport climbing, sunbathing and swimming in the river, before heading back to Sospel to work throughout August with Ash on a new trip which he is putting together for next year. It’s basically going to involve riding a bunch of amazing trails, recce-ing some new ones and figuring out transport logistics to link them….it’ll be hard, but I guess someone’s got to do it ;)

Back at the start of May, my friend Fi asked if I wanted to write an article for an online magazine, and I said I’d give it a go. I’ve written a lot in the 20 months since I lost Gareth, and have found it a really helpful way to clear my mind of worries and anxieties. I’ve kept a diary, writing down things which in the past I would have talked about with Gareth, but now I don’t feel like I have anyone who knows me as well as he did, or who I can be totally, completely myself and speak my mind to honestly without being judged, and knowing that he would still love me unconditionally. I’ve had an amazing amount of support from friends, and my wonderful family, but there are some things that I would only have shared with Gareth, and as I can’t now do that, it’s been helpful to write them down to get them out of my head at least. Writing this blog has also been a way to remind myself of how lucky I am for the many opportunities I have and parts of my life I am grateful for, and to remember that although Gareth can no longer be an everyday part of my life in a physical sense, in a way, he will always be part of it, in the sense that the 10 years we spent together shaped who I am now, and gave me experiences and adventures that have opened doors, and opened my mind to knowing what is important to me, and what I want to do with my life to get the most out of it and feel alive and glad to be alive every day.

But writing for other people, and not just my random thoughts and ramblings, felt harder to do. In a way, it was hard reading back over what I’d written and thinking that other people would be reading about my “story”, when for me it’s not a story, it’s real….it all really happened, although sometimes that’s still hard to get my head around…..I had the most amazing husband and a fantastic life that we had built together, and now they are gone, and it’s hard not to wonder “Why?”. Why us? To some people, it might seem “inspiring” how I’ve tried to rebuild my life and keep busy doing the things I love, and that’s great if some people feel like that, but I’ve purely been doing what I can to help myself cope…every so often, I still can’t help but feel a sense that life has been very unfair though…

Anyway, for anyone who didn’t see the link to the article on facebook, it’s here if you want to read it.

Outside Times Article

This morning I’m sitting outside a café in the sun, waiting for the guests to finish their ride, looking at the old houses and narrow cobbled streets of the pretty little town on one side of me, and the towering wooded hillsides on the other, watching all the locals go about their daily business, listening to the sound of birds and two old ladies nearby having a conversation  whilst they pick their vegetables from the local grocers….it’s calm, tranquil, life is slow here….it feels good...

Tomorrow would have been Gareth's birthday, and I know I'll inevitably feel a bit low, so I'm glad I'll have the long drive to Chamonix to think lots of him and how we would have been celebrating, I like to think we would have been about to take on an adventure together like the one I'll be starting next week...hopefully I can persuade some friends tomorrow evening to remember Gareth with me over some of his favourite things....cakes and single malt whisky....Missing you as ever Gareth xx

Riding in the Alps

Summer holidays in Orpierre France

A Summer in the Maritime Alps

It seems like I've been here in the South of France for ages, yet actually it is only 4 weeks ago that I arrived in sunny Sospel, a quiet, pretty little town nestled amongst the steep wooded hillsides of the Maritime Alps. But what a crazy busy 4 weeks it's been!

I took a few days to drive down here in the van, choosing scenic roads and stopping to enjoy some of the places I was passing, making the most of the time on my own, knowing it was going to be straight into a busy job when I arrived.

I love driving in France...unlike the UK it is an entirely unstressful experience! The roads are well maintained and frequently quiet or even empty, and it is a stunningly beautiful country to drive through, with incredible views round almost every corner, and constantly changing scenery as you drive down through it. Having the van to stop and sleep in whenever takes your fancy is the ultimate way to travel around too, and allows you to stay in some fantastic little spots.

Roadside scenery on the drive through France

The Maritime Alps is not somewhere I've ever really visited in France before, despite having spent many long summers over the last 10 years with Gareth, we always stuck to the high alps, around Chamonix, and the Haute Provence area to the north west of here. There are many, many impressive areas of France, but I have to say, even though I've only been here a relatively short period of time, it really is beautiful...I absolutely love it.

It is quiet, yet somehow bustling with the little quirky parts of French life that I love...Markets full of fresh cheeses, meats, olives and fruit and veg; the usual locals who run the Boulangerie, the Tabac, the bar, who because it is a pretty small place, already recognise you after a few visits; the amusing characters that all little french towns seem to have, propping up the bar all day and putting the world to rights over a glass of Pastis; and many more things that make me smile. The pace of life is slow, and the sun shines most of the time, and the best thing of all is that hidden on the hills surrounding the town, in every direction, are the most amazing trails for riding bikes :)

There is pretty much a lifetime's worth of brilliant riding just in this valley, and then there are multiple other mountains and valleys to explore all around. There are also climbing areas of immaculate limestone nearby, the beach only a 20 minute drive away, and pretty river gorges and canyons to swim in and sunbathe next to...not really much not to like!

Sospel old bridge (Photo courtesy of http://en.nicetourisme.com)

Sospel is the base of Ash Smith and his partner Melissa and their family, organisers and creators of the Trans Provence, a 6 day Mountain Bike Enduro race that is run every October and attracts the world's best racers, and wilderness adventure biking enthusiasts, and is growing in popularity every year, as more and more people hear of the incredible race vibe, and the totally brilliant riding throughout the week. Places are limited to 55 spots for mere mortals, and 15 pros each year, and the entries sell out within seconds of going online. For good reason....

For those who don't get an entry, or who don't want to race, there is the option to join one of the guided trail weeks, following the exact race route, throughout May to July, and September.

This summer, my job is to guide on these weeks, getting to ride the route not just once, but many times....needless to say, I'm feeling pretty privileged to have this job!

Shredding the famous Grey Earth section with fellow guide Sandra

Fellow guide Chris pushing up through Alpine meadows on day 1

River crossing in the canyon...a proper bike adventure week!

Each week there is a team of 4 of us guiding 14 guests, with each day, 2 of us driving/setting up lunch and 2 guiding, then changing over part way through the day. The route travels from near Sisteron, in Haute Provence, to Menton, on the coast, right next to the Italian border. The trip is a real adventure, with long days, plenty of bike carrying, pushing and pedalling, river crossings, and a huge variety of riding. From soft, loamy, swoopy trails through forests, to narrow, exposed balcony trails tracing a line across steep hillsides, steep, rocky, loose technical descents, to open, fast and furious ribbons of singletrack crossing alpine meadows. And all with a stunning backdrop of snow-capped mountains, deep gorges, huge wooded valleys....it really does have it all!

It's been great fun so far to work within a team of like-minded colleagues, meet some awesome guests and each week see their excitement and enthusiasm at the trails we are taking them on (it'd be hard not to be totally stoked by these trails....), spend all day every day outside, get to ride my bike lots....It's the best job I've ever had by far :)

Fellow guide Patrice enjoying another fun flowy singletrack descent

Plenty of balcony trails like this throughout the route

The weather hasn't always been on our side mind you...after all, we are in the Alps. Last week there was a HUGE thunderstorm one afternoon. The morning had started bright and sunny as usual, with factor 30 being lathered on by all, camelbacks filled up to their full capacity, and anxiety about the long climbs in the sun. Then suddenly, mid afternoon, the sky began to darken, and soon enough, even though we were dry at that point, the echoes of thunder in distant valleys started to be heard. We rode the descent we were on in the quickest time so far, and just as we got to the bottom and joined the road, the rain started to fall. There was frequent thunder and lightening by this point, but never that close, so we weren't too worried, we were down in the valley so it couldn't be that bad could it? Moments later, torrential hail started to batter us, the painful kind that stings as it hits your skin, and bounces up off the road it is falling so hard. Leading my group, I kept my head down, aiming for a barn I could see not far away as somewhere to shelter. As I got about 25m from the barn, the biggest, loudest, brightest, bolt of lightening and crack of thunder I've ever

heard, struck a pylon less than 20m away from where I was. It was the closest I've been to being hit by lightening, and really scary. My arms felt like electric shocks had gone through them, and my heart was beating so fast with fear and adrenalin, I was wide-eyed and breathless by the time I made it to the shelter of the barn and the excited jabber of the guests started. We waited for a while for the storm to pass, but when after an hour we were still waiting, cold and wet, and watching torrential hailstones from our dry shelter, it was time to make the call for an early pick up and call it a day.

It sounds an easy job, but it really isn't all just about playing on bikes all day. Maybe compared to a 9-5 job and the stresses that come with that it is, but you are busy all day, and the days are long...in fact the riding is the easy bit. You are working 24 hours a day essentially, so mentally, trying to make sure all the guests have the best possible time, and everything runs smoothly and to plan is pretty draining. You are responsible for a group of people on trails which are technically demanding, exposed, and remote, and where sometimes, if you make a mistake at the wrong point, you won't be walking away....so there's always a worry about not just ensuring everyone enjoys themselves, but also that they get down safely, and that is stressful in its own way. But I'm not complaining, I love every bit of it, and getting to ride these trails each week is a real bonus :)

On days off, there is always someone around to ride with. Yesterday morning, Ash, Emily and I set off early to go and explore a new trail that Ash had spotted on the map. We weren't disappointed. It was a trail of two halves, with the first part on sublime, flowing singletrack through the woods on the side of a hill, reminiscent of a wooded footpath in the UK (but dryer, longer and totally legal!) before it suddenly spat you out into a section of dry, rocky limestone switchbacks in the sun, surrounded by the smell of lavender and rosemary that is so familiar to the south of France. Poppies and other brightly coloured flowers lined the trail, as we cruised down to the next village for a coffee, hitched a lift back to the top of the col with a Romanian delivery driver, and then rode another amazing trail back down to Sospel. A good morning :)

Tomorrow I start a 4 week non-stop stint, so this week, have been making the most of chilled out days, riding trails in the morning, sunbathing and reading in the afternoon, repairing my bike, oh, and practising some new skills that I'll hopefully be able to put into use on the trail soon ;)

Endo practice in the garden!

Fellow guide Emily pedalling up to enjoy some more Sospel classic descents

I feel happier here than I have done anywhere in the last 18 months, and even though every night during guiding weeks is in a different place, I'm more settled than I have been for a long time. Gareth would have totally loved it here...the trails, the job, the people, the scenery, the pace of life....all the things I love about it. I wish he was here more than anything, and I think of him still every day, especially on sections of trail I just know he would have really enjoyed. I hope wherever he is, he can see me riding and know that I never stop thinking of him....

Well, time to go and sort my stuff out for the next few weeks...A bientot!

A busy month and a new adventure...

I'm not entirely sure where this last month has gone. I was pretty sure when I came back from South Africa that I had plenty of time to get all the things I had to do, done, and well, that doesn't seem to have happened!
However, I have had a pretty good month of visiting and catching up with friends and family, getting my bikes sorted for the summer, sorting out the van, my house in Sheffield, and the 5 months post I forgot I would have to sort through, and having a few mini adventures :)

Stunning views from part way up the route on Great End

I managed to sneak in a bit of proper winter fun, with some easy ice climbing with friends in the Lakes and the Cairngorms, and even some ski-touring too, with a great descent on fantastic snow down Lurcher's gully in the Northern Corries of the Cairngorms by headtorch :)

Coire an t-Sneachda in great Winter conditions

Alladin's Couloir

The Cairngorms in winter are a fairly special place for me, as Gareth and I spent a lot of winters driving up for consecutive weekends of climbing or skiing when the conditions were good, and many school half term holidays too. Our first valentine's night was spent driving up from Sheffield to Aviemore, arriving after midnight, then sleeping in a micra in the campsite ready for a 4 am wakeup to go and walk in to climb some routes! It was certainly memorable, and we did have a great weekend...Maybe not everybody's idea of romance though!
The route I did in the Lakes with John and Mhairi was also I think the same route that Gareth and I climbed on our first ever weekend away together over 10 years ago, so I spent quite a bit of time sat on the snow in the sun at the top, thinking back to happy days in the hills together, feeling a little bit sad, as always, not to be sharing these experiences still, and noticing the quiet emptiness that accompanies even the most fun days out now, but knowing he'd want me to be going out and making the most of the beautiful day that it was.

I also managed to complete my Mountain Bike Leader award with Jules Fincham from Cyclewild Scotland while I was up in Aviemore. Every course I have done with Jules has been fantastic, his teaching style is relaxed and fun, and I come away feeling like I've learnt a lot, even after assessments, and inspired to ride my bike even more, keep building on my skills, and to encourage more people to ride and to enable them to get as much out of riding as I do. Jules also rides my dream bike (Ibis mojo HD), so I do unfortunately have to contain my bike envy whilst riding with him, but he does know some awesome bits of singletrack which are practically in his backyard, which he always seems happy to share :) If you're thinking of riding in the Aviemore area and need a guide or want to do any kind of skills or leadership course, Jules is definitely the guy to go to!

Cyclewild Scotland

There's also been trips to Bristol for a volunteer beach clean up morning and walk around Cheddar gorge with Caz, a very exciting day at the Harry Potter Studio tour, a no excuses Thursday night ride, rides around the peak, remembering how much I love the local trails, and of course plenty of riding up in the Highlands on pristine, yet deserted singletrack. And of course the latest mini-adventure...

It was this time last year that I was setting off on my off-road Land's End to John O'Groats ride, which looking back now, is definitely the hardest physical challenge I've ever set myself. Anyway, ever since that ride, I've found myself drawn to wanting to do some more journeys by bike. The kind of ride where you find yourself somewhere totally different each night from where you set off that morning, carrying the stuff you need with you, navigating on trails that are new to you, discovering beautiful new places, and feeling like rather than just "going for a ride", you've been on a journey. Travelling by bike is such a brilliant way to see places, and even short journeys can feel like a big adventure.
So last weekend, John, Pete and I (plus Tom who joined us on day 2), set off on the Lakeland 200, a 200km mountain bike ride around the Lakes, taking in quite a lot of big passes, some gnarly descents, and also lots of our old favourite trails. We stole the route idea from the internet, however, the website suggestion of a solo self-supported non-stop ride was not even considered for a micro-second! No way, we were going for a 3 day ride, staying in hostels, carrying as little as possible to make life easier for ourselves! It was still quite hard though, in fact really hard! More epic than the Cape Epic, and if it had gone on for another 20 days, then definitely on a par with the LEJOG!

Descending from Boredale Hause

Pushing up High Street with a snowstorm chasing!

On the first day we rode 85km, climbing (and descending) 3100m, from Keswick to Staveley, with intermittent snow and hail showers, some wind on the tops, and a 10 hour day of riding...finishing at a campsite where we'd previously dumped a car the night before, in heavy rain, soaked to the skin and freezing cold. Thankfully the campsite had a bar and hot food, so we were able to rehydrate with pints of Cumberland Ale, and refuel with Steak and chips. I was too lazy to put up a tent (that's what happens when you're used to the luxury of having a van and not having to faff about putting up tents in the rain!) so slept in the drying hut for the campsite! It wasn't busy (everyone else had seen the forecast and decided camping was a stupid idea) so I don't think anyone minded, or even noticed :)

John, Pete and I in Staveley at the end of day 1

The next day was cold but sunny, and joined by Tom with his annoyingly fresh legs, we set off for Eskdale. We rode another 80km, up and down 2900m worth of hills, pushed through some bogs, whooped our way down some fast rocky descents, and somehow staggered in to the beautiful Eskdale valley 11 hours later.

John climbing to the summit of Walna Scar Road

Early evening light on the descent into Eskdale

The youth hostel is set in a stunning position in this quiet peaceful valley, and with a pub just 300m away seemed pretty much ideal....until the Karaoke at the pub started due to there being a Cider and Sausage festival on, and a group of people decided to sit outside our room drinking until 3 am :(
I think we managed to get a few hours of sleep each, although it didn't feel like it when the alarms went off the following morning.

The will to get going for our final day was not helped by the change in the weather. Low cloud and heavy drizzle engulfed the valley, and with a route that was to take us over into Wasdale, then over Black Sail pass into Ennerdale, then over Scarth Gap to Buttermere, then over Honister pass and around Derwentwater to Keswick, we were all a bit reluctant to get going. It was one of those days where if you'd been on a normal trip, you'd have probably done a token short ride, before retreating to the Cafe for tea and cake. As it was, with our vehicles in Keswick, and us in Eskdale, we had either a 40km hilly off road route to get back to them, or a looooooong way round on the road. There was nothing for it but to man-up and get on with it. Like always in these kind of conditions, once you got moving, it wasn't that bad. Except for our tired legs, slippery rock, massive bogs, persistent rain and a bitterly cold wind, it was great!?! (Type 2 fun I kept telling myself!!)

Pete not impressed with the change in weather (or his choice of shorts?!)

Stream crossing...not much fun in cold wet weather!

When we made it over into Wasdale, we were soaked to the skin and bitterly cold. Thankfully the kind people at the Wasdale Head Inn opened up early and we bought multiple cups of hot chocolate, and sat by the fire waiting for our kit to dry a bit. After an hour or so, wearing all the clothes we'd bought with us, we headed out again, and were soon shouldering the bikes for the steep carry up and over Black Sail Pass. Reminiscing about Dogtanian and the Three Muskehounds soon passed the time, and before we knew it we were at the top looking down a stupidly steep descent. We all rode at least some of it, but the combination of steepness, wet grass, slippery slime covered rocks, and sections that we could barely climb down let alone ride, as well as being in a fairly remote place, in bad weather, a long way from help should anything go wrong, meant that mostly we pushed (except Tom who was adamant he was going to ride it all having carried his bike all the way up!). Scarth Gap pass was similar, a steep carry up, a steep, slippery descent down, but at least we could ride a lot more of it :)
A welcome tailwind up and over Honister pass helped us to the final part of our trip, down a rocky track into Borrowdale, and singletrack around the base of CatBells to get back to Keswick. 29 hours of riding after we set off, we made it back to the van and treated ourselves to celebratory fish and chips before packing up and heading home. It felt a lot longer and bigger than a 3 day trip, but then that's the great thing about adventures like that :)

Since then, there's been a trip to Sheffield for some decking cleaning and painting (eurgh), some panicking as the trusty van broke down and needed a new part, and a trip to North Wales and a return to climbing for the first time in almost a year (nothing like throwing yourself back in at the deep end by heading to the scary sea cliffs of Gogarth on Anglesey for a first climbing trip after a break!)

And now my "recovery" month (not sure that's actually what it has been!) is over, and tomorrow I'm heading off somewhere new for a summer job which I'm pretty excited about. I'll be working as a Mountain Bike Guide in the south of France, guiding the route of the Trans-Provence race...whoop! Better carry on packing....