Tucson

Take Off

The plan was that Chris was going to drive to Tucson, and a few days later I would fly down with the cat. But the closer I got to take-off the more nervous I became about flying with her. I was having nightmares about her yowling for 4 hours on the flight with a captive audience of unhappy fellow fliers. Chris's departure was delayed by one day due to bad weather on the mountain pass between Oregon and California. I took advantage of the delay and at the last minute decided to drive to Tucson with him. Yes, I would rather drive for 22 hours over two days with the cat than fly with her for just 4 hours, because then at least if she yowled I wouldn't be surrounded by angry strangers. Just an irritated husband.

Turns out there was nothing to worry about. Smudge traveled like a champ. She barely made a peep the entire drive. Maybe it was fear, or being over-stimulated by the motion of the car and new smells. Or maybe it was motion sickness. Whatever. She was quiet as a mouse. Most of the time she slept in the carrier that I'd bought for the flight. A few hours each day we let her out and she explored the car or sat on my lap, ate, pooped (not on my lap; in the litter box we carried along with us for just such occasions), and slept some more. She was a little freaked out by the hotel room but, then, who wouldn't be freaked out by a hotel room in the middle of NoWhere, California.

Landing

We arrived around 8pm on Christmas Day. The woman who owns the condo lives in the same complex and met us to let us in, show us around, give us keys, and say goodbye. I think that may be the last we see of her during our three month stay, which is fine by us. 

By the time we were ready to hunt for food it was nearly 9pm. Quick, find a Chinese restaurant! We tried the restaurant we ate at a few years ago on Christmas, but by the time we called them they'd run out of food?!  Their sister restaurant likewise was about to close. We finally found another Chinese restaurant that was about to close but took pity on us. Chicken chow mein never tasted so good.

Our temporary New Digs
Catalina Mountains in the background

Smudge enjoying her new cat tree

View from our porch - Catalina Mountains
Tucson's version of a winter storm

Catalina Mountains with a dusting of snow

Saguaro National Park (eastside)
Our first day in Tucson we took a ride at Saguaro National Park. This is a fun 8 mile roller-coaster loop on a one-way road. We looped around three times together then Chris took a final lap by himself, finishing about sunset.

Finger Rock
The next day I decided to rest while Chris took a hike up Finger Rock. This is a hike he's done many times when we lived here in the late 80's and during subsequent visits. The trailhead is a few miles from our new home. I dropped him off at the trailhead and he called me for a pick up when he was done.

view from the top

Mt. Lemmon
On our third day in town we rode the Big One. Or, part of it. Mt. Lemmon starts at about 2,700 feet elevation and 27 miles later tops out at around 9,000. I'm in no kind of shape for that kind of climb so we set our sights on Windy Point. From where we parked Windy Point is a 14 mile ride with 3,600 feet of climbing. Cactus are abundant at the bottom of the mountain but Windy Point at 6,400 elevation is mostly rocks and scrub brush. This time of year, it's also cold, even in bright sunshine. The temperature during our climb up was very comfortable. But the ride down was really, really cold. I plan to visit this mountain many times over the next three months and eventually work my way to the top.

Catalina State Park
The next day I stayed home to rest some sore hip muscles and Chris went to explore his first mountain bike trail. As you can see, when he's alone he tends to get into trouble. In case you are wondering, there is no fence between him and that large, long-horned animal.

Chris, Catalina State Park, mountain bike ride

Tucson Mountain Park
I had a cold or allergies or something going on so I skipped riding again while Chris tested out another mountain bike trail. No long-horned animals on this one. Though he did see some very long-eared jackrabbits.

Year-End Stats
Time to brag. Then time to start all over again tomorrow. Our 2012 numbers:

Chris:
163 rides
415 hours
5,090 miles
600,292 feet climbed

Ellen:
82 rides
184 hours
2,054 miles
205,935 feet climbed

Happy New Year.

The Most Famous Climb of All

L'Alpe d'Huez

It's was the last day of our trip. Tonight we'd drive to Lyon, pack our bikes, and get ready for an early morning wakeup call for our flight to London. After finishing Col du Sabot the day before I'd sworn off any more riding. No no no. It was all about relaxing until we got on the plane. The day was sunny and the skies were blue. Chris had been itching to ride up a narrow road behind La Grave that leads to a village way above, so that was the first order of business this morning. 

Ride #10: Col du Meije

For lack of a real name, I'll call this ride "Col du Meije", after the massive mountain that looms over La Grave. It was 3-4 miles up and roughly 1500 feet of climbing. I happily sat in the car while Chris worked his way up.

The climb begins

"Le Meije"

 Ride #11: L'Alpe d'Huez

Afterward, we drove one more time toward Le Bourg-d'Oisans, the town that is a base for many climbs in this region. The climb of L'Alpe d'Huez, made famous by the Tour de France, also starts near Le Bourg. The climb is a 'must do' for many cyclists, but it was never on our ride list. There are too many other routes that are more scenic, less hyped, and far less crowded. But, on our last day, it was on the way to the airport and wouldn't require any planning. 

So off to L'Alpe we drove, with me still trying to convince myself that I wasn't going to ride. I held firm to this notion until we pulled into a parking lot and I saw all the other cyclists. Ok, ok, I guess I will ride The Most Famous Climb of All.

After changing in the parking lot, Chris and I rode to the base of the climb together, then he rode ahead to keep up with a pack of faster cyclists. He would get to the top and then come back down and finish my climb with me. 

L'Alpe isn't a particularly scenic ride, at least not by the high standards set by the other rides on our trip. It was also sort of like a cyclist express route, loads of people coming up and down, compared to relatively few riders elsewhere. So it was a very different feel from our other rides.

The one fun thing about L'Alpe is that all 21 switchbacks are numbered, starting with #21 at the bottom. So you get to count your progress as you go up. The climb is very steep at the bottom. It lets up after awhile but is very much a climb all the way up. The only relief was the slight flattening of the road at each switchback. I took my time turning each of the 21 corners to enjoy a little relief. But it was a hot day and it was the end of a long trip and the climb for me was mostly a grind. I stopped at switchbacks #13, #8, and #5 for breaks. Chris rejoined me at about #7, and from then on I kept telling him how I didn't really care if I got to the top and it was okay if he wanted to turn around and we'd ride back down the hill. Fortunately, he never takes me seriously. At some point I was yelling over to him that I didn't know if I was going to finish the ride, and a woman riding a hundred or so feet in front of me yelled back, "Yes you will!" So I did.

At the top, L'Alpe d'Huez

Back at the parking lot; It's a wrap

Total stats for the day:

Ellen: 16 miles, 3,460 feet of climbing

Chris: 31 miles, 6,306 feet of climbing

Slippers courtesy of American Airlines.
And, we're off.

And Now, a Word from our Sponsor

Gobble
It's taken me so long to finish our France posts that I've run into Thanksgiving. I'm supposed to be working, and was going to take just a minute out of my workday to online order our turkey from New Seasons, our everything-is-organic-or-local-or-fresh-or-old-or-new-or something really cool...and did I say "local" supermarket. But nothing that's local and fresh and/or organic or...is ever easy. Here's the list of possible turkey options I was presented with when I decided to hop online for just a minute to order the turkey. I guess I'm going to have to think about it. So much for getting something done.

• Fresh, Free-range Turkey
• Fresh, Free-range Petite Turkey
• Herb-rubbed Brined Turkey
• Kosher Turkey
• Fresh, Certified Organic Turkey
• Certified Organic Heirloom Turkey
• Champoeg Farms Pasture-raised Turkey
• Fresh, Free-range Light/Dark Roast
• Fresh, Free-range Bone-in Breast
• Fresh, Free-range Boneless Breast

oddly, they all look the same

Hardest Damn Ride Ever.

Back to La Grave

After Col Agnel we hightailed it back to La Grave for our last few days of riding. The next day it rained, the only bad weather on the entire trip. We borrowed umbrellas from the hotel and tried to entertain ourselves. Personally, I was happy for another day of rest for my legs.

Ride #9: Col du Sabot
Chris and Ellen: 27 miles, 4,977 feet climbed

The next day the sun came out but it was still a little chilly in the mid-50's. Comfortable for climbing but cold at the top and colder still going downhill. Today's ride selection was Col du Sabot. C.d.S is hands-down the hardest ride I have ever done. Harder than Tour of the Lost Coast. Harder than the Alp d'Huez, which we would ride the following day. Harder than any of the other rides we did on this trip, including that first ride when I managed to get lost in the Alps for a few hours. But the scenery was beautiful and we had the route to ourselves.

Let the games begin

"Herds - Be Careful" Hmm.....

It's all well and good when cows are on a mural....

But they were all over the road, too. Chris liked to ride through them...

But I preferred to walk. These cows were HUGE.

Looking for the top....it's right above me, one more push...

At the top. Very windy and cold....

....let's get the heck out of here

 

The road down

Good-bye to our friends

Baby Won't You Drive My Car

Driving
After waving goodbye to Chalet Colinn and bagging Col de l'Iseran we drove to our next destination, the Hotel La Ferme de l'Izoard in the village of Arvieux in Queyras Regional Park. It was a three hour drive and required weaving our way about on Italian highways and mountain roads before scooting back into France. 

While the driving times in the Alps never sound very long, I'm quoting 'actual driving time'. However, 'perceived driving time' was much longer, maybe double, since I always found the driving to be somewhat hair raising. I'd say that a 3 hour drive aged me by about 6 hours. It was always worse when we had to finesse our way through towns, even small ones. For all of my years (ok, weeks) of studying french I still couldn't read many road signs. So entering even a small village could be a challenge. We eventually agreed that, as much as I did not want to drive anywhere near civilization (I was fine on the remoter mountain roads), Chris has superior navigation skills and since he could not look at maps and drive at the same time (unfortunate), we'd need to switch as we got closer to towns so that I drove while he navigated. 

On this day Chris drove all the way from Col de l'Iseran, through Italy, and back into France toward the town of Briançon, an 'old city' encased by a newer city with lots of activity and narrows roads and loads of little traffic circles. The upshot of those traffic circles was that if you got off on the wrong exit coming off the circle it would shoot you in the wrong direction and then god help you figuring out your way back. Unfortunately, we couldn't skirt around the edge of Briançon; we had to go right through the belly of the beast. We hit the town at rush hour. Luckily, we had a GPS to help us navigate. The GPS displayed the desired route on our iPad, and made announcements whenever it wanted us to steer the car in a certain direction. Unluckily, the GPS sometimes didn't really have a grip on our location. Like, it sometimes thought we were one road over from where we actually were; or, it would tell us to turn but it wasn't clear whether it meant that we should turn at the exit we just passed, or the one coming up. We learned early on not to trust it. So our conversations as we made our way through Briançon went something like this:

Ellen (driving toward a traffic circle): "What should I do?
Chris (navigating): "Hold on."
Ellen (about to enter traffic circle): "Which exit do I take!"
GPS: "Take 2nd exit"
Ellen (now in the traffic circle): "Is that true?!"
Chris: "No. Follow that car"
Ellen (in the traffic circle): "What car?! The blue one!?"
GPS: "Take next exit"
Chris: "No, ignore him. Yes, the blue car"
Ellen: "Here, here?!"
GPS (thinking we had missed its instructions): "Turn around"
Chris: "Yes, here"
GPS: "Turn around"

Chris is always calm in these situations but my blood pressure raises exponentially. By the time we made it through Briançon the tension in the car was palpable; at least, it was on the driver's side. The last circle was particularly troublesome (requiring a final split second decision) and when we finally cleared it I whooped and fist-pumped in elation. At the moment it seemed better than conquering any mountain pass by bike.

Once outside Briançon we headed back up into the mountains toward the village of Arvieux. We had two rides scheduled for this area: Col d'Izoard and Col Agnel. Izoard is frequently ridden in the Tour de France. The Agnel is much less well known. The road toward Arvieux took us along the same route as the north face of the Col d'Izoard, so we got a preview of it in the car. Ugh. We'd left behind green valleys and glaciers for....dirt. The higher we drove the more barren the landscape became, and not in a good way. Ugly. It put us in a funk. Our mood didn't improve when we descended the other side to find our hotel (ugly) in the town of Arvieux (ugly) surrounded by not less than 20 red and black Ducati motorcycles, which were in turn surrounding by a large group of Germans, all of whom seemed to be smoking. Apparently there was a tour group in town that was spending the week at our hotel. Not liking the scenery, the hotel, or the Ducatis, we immediately began planning our escape. We had not even entered the hotel lobby before we began scheming how to get out of our three night reservation in just one night. Fortuitously, the reservation I thought I'd made for three nights somehow ended up as only two nights. And then they didn't seem to mind that we wanted to bail out after just one night. Which we did. 

The early exit from Arvieux meant we'd have time for just one ride. I decided to use the next day as a rest day while sagging Chris in the car. Col d'Izoard had not looked appealing from the car and he really wanted to ride Agnel. So it was an easy decision. It was a great choice. None of the hype (or dirt) of Col d'Izoard, just pretty valleys and the place almost to ourselves.

Ride #8: Col Agnel

Chris: 13 miles (one-way), 4,450 feet climbed

La Chalps, prettier neighboring village just south of Arvieux.
Everything is better with a croissant.

Riding toward Col Agnel

Summit photo

From the top we drove down together back to the town at the start of the ride and ate lunch.

I didn't ride, but I still got to eat like I did

Resident restaurant dog, looking for a handout."Who's a Good Dog!"

Moo-ving Right Along

Ride #6: Chalet Colinn

Chris: 7.5 miles, 1,802 feet climbed

Another rest day, another bike ride for Chris. On this day he rose before breakfast and cruised to the bottom of the road. At the bottom he turned around and rode back up past the Chalet Colinn to a dam further up the road. After breakfast, we drove up to the dam together to look around. Since I wasn't there to photograph his morning ride he did his best cycling impression.

Chris rides to the dam; Chalet Colinn on the left

Later that day we drove back up to the Col du Petit St. Bernard, this time taking a slightly different route than our bike ride a few days earlier. Plenty of my favorite subjects to photograph:

pretty girl

the twins

moving to greener pastures

Ride #7: Col de l'Iseran

Chris: 17 miles, 3,203 feet climbed

Ellen: 17 miles, 3,192 feet climbed

Finally it was time to say a fond "au revoir" to Chalet Colinn. Today we would drive a few valleys over to the Hotel La Ferme de l'Izoard in the village of Arvieux in Queyras Regional Park. But first, time for me to ride the Col de l'Iseran. Chris rode this mountain pass on our way to the Chalet four days earlier but was happy to ride it again. To get to the correct side of the pass, we backtracked in the car up and over the Col and drove down the other side to start the ride. 

This turned out to be my favorite ride of the trip. Grand vistas, green valleys, glaciers, and the perfect combination of distance and difficulty.