The Reason for Riding
Aka what I discovered about myself during La Resistance 2018
Why I go out for bike adventures, for bike events, for bike rides? That’s a question: usually, I go for a bike trip because I want to discover a new place. Other times I go out with my bike because I want to meet some friends or to test my shape. Sometimes I go out just to make some space for my next big meal.
But in case of a big event, that time I pick up trains, wrap the bike and take a tram, then a bus and finally run to catch a plane, or ask for a lift to my neighbor to go at the big mountain feet. In those cases, why do I do it?
This question never popped up into my mind, never before my weekend at La Resistance.
What La Resistance is
Just a bit of background, La Resistance is a ride on the Haute-Savoie, South of France. It runs on a 140 km path, across some of the most important spots of the French resistance, and one in particular: Le Plateau des Glières, literally the rocky and dry highland.
And 45 of those 140 km, are actually in a rocky and dry gravel road.
“It must be tough for you because it was tough for them”
“It must be tough for you because it was tough for them,” Adam says, one of the organizers of la Resistance. And when he says “them”, he refers to the 465 soldiers resistant that fought against collaborationists and Nazis on those months between 1943 and 1944.
And it is tough, god if it’s tough. And not only physically: long climbs mixed with rough gravel sections, a good mix of slopes and stones. With a good visit to all the monuments that make this area unforgettable for any visitor: the Plateau des Glières and the cemetery of the resistance soldiers dead on that plateau.
As well recognizable and unbelievable stunning are the landscapes surrounding this playground. The Alps all over, famous climbs, and le Mont Blanc, always visible from the higher passes of the course.
I picked up my 3T Exploro and I moved to Talloires — about 3,5 hours between train, bus, and cycling — to go and live an adventure with my friend Lele and discover the altitude of this historical place. In the first gravel event of my cycling life.
The event
Friday is smooth: trip to Talloires, passing by the Base Camp to withdraw the race bag, meeting my friends and check in at the Airbnb to eat and sleep.
The big day is the one after, sleeping was that easy I almost forget to recharge my Elemnt (waking up in the middle of the night with the feeling something is missing, that’s what it is). Waking up on Saturday at 6.30am (the start at a decent 8am), comprehensive breakfast and noticing something else is not here: my arm warmers, yes the morning would have been pretty chilly.
Lele and I dive down to the lake pretty fast, with my companion whispering loud swears against who brought him there for the one supposed to be his longest — and toughest — ride of the year (always myself). The crowd of participants is really interesting, mostly people from Uk, but also some Spanish, Swiss and, obviously, French dudes. Majority of guys, a few girls, all gravel addicted.
We start and we push our lungs off in a short 10 km tarmac segment, that brings us to an intersection:
Tarmac ⬅️ ➡️ Gravel Detour ️
After some hesitations, I decide to go on the right side, shouting at Lele (heading to the safe side).
“Don’t get tired, hold some wheels, see ya on top of the Arpettaz”
First severe gravel section of my life, and it is really severe, after a few km I am alone, struggling on big stones and puddles. But it is a nice struggling untill I find myself on a tricky situation: Richard aka Pen Paper Steel, got a fork collapse and now he is laying on the ground with scarred face and broken ribs.
He speaks, he remembers, he is fine, but I wait anyway for the doctors to arrive.
Dammit, something changes into my mind, but it is late, I need to catch up with Lele, he must be climbing already.
I take back the bike and I fly on the irregular surface, ‘till the feet of the Arpettaz. The Exploro is not exactly a climber, but I am, and my weapon is smoother than many other bikes. I push up for many kilometers, my Elemnt cheats at me, I forget to eat, I arrive exhausted at the 1st checkpoint, at the end of the climb.
The Crisis
Here is Lele, taking selfies and eating delicious apples. I swallow full apples and a couple of bars and in 10 minutes is already time to start again. But here is the faith coming from under the rocks. The segment between Arpettaz and Col de l’Aravis is a full up and down on a gravel road, bringing with it big stones and nothing more than a huge challenge. At the beginning, my climbing skills help me with keeping the rhythm and pacing the breath, but after a couple of close calls, my focus disappears and my nerves break. I can’t ride anymore, I really can’t. The image of Richard and his bleeding face, my hands still wounded from a crash the week before, the consciousness of my weak bike handling skills make the rest. Walking is the only solution. And crying. I walk on the whole gravel sector destroying my shoes and soaking my beard in tears.
Everything’s in my mind at the moment: my past year, my family, my hunger (yes, I am still starving at that point). I crashed my limits being scared of crashing my bones. But, fortunately, Lele was there, making jokes and taking pictures of the amazing Mount Blanc solidly showing-off his sleekness.
I spend 1h37m (the Strava track says that) crying and walking the gravel road.
I believe I won’t pedal a bike anymore, or more probably no more rolling wheels outside of the comfortable tarmac.
Gravel is over and now the choice is to continue for the full Resistance or go for La Petit. We decide on the second option, and now I regret it. Another hour of cycling, and pictures, and tears swallowing, then here the Annency Lake arriving and the crowd of the early finishers drinking beers.
I talk with Adam, with Max and with Richard, just back from the hospital — only three broken ribs, cracked sternum, some stitches on my face: I got worse accidents. But still too bad to happen during my holy moon — he says.
That’s why
The day is over, and I’m in bed. I don’t know if I will ride on gravel again (spoiler alert, I will and I will love it) but now I know why I ride on this great events: to overtake my limits, to discover something new, to meet cheerful people, and to meet myself.
A full afternoon of facing my fears to get better.
That’s why I ride my bicycle. To get better.
