Trans Provence - Day 4 - 5

Trans Provence 

Photo's Andreas Hestler

Day 4 – HUMP DAY -Villars-Colmars to Guillaumes 41.5 km’s

965 meters UP

2434 meters DOWN

Hump day (the mid-way point of the week) came on the heels of a 1200m (4400 feet) camp night that means cold. I was ok as my conservative self says - “be careful, carry a good sleeping bag and always have a down jacket near by”. We awoke to another beau day (that’s French for beautiful).

Our shuttle was so beset by ancient ruins on the drive to the alpine that we nearly missed our launch time; ruins, castles and old chalets accosted our vision, all passed by as we ascended an endless stream of switchbacks. Our shuttle felt like a goat on steroids moving us steadily upwards towards the alpine.

SP1 was below us by the time the vehicles stopped well above the tree line. There would be no long early lias today but instead a vertical descent from grass trough the forest and into the rocky rubbly side of the mountain. It was a long descent that had a +60 meters on the description, the question is – would the climbing come all as one or in small bits? At the end of the day, dropping in at 6000+ feet means every climb sucks the air and the will to pedal out of your legs and soul, but every turn inspires and energizes, what a juxtapose as we headed down the first special stage.  Amazingly I lost something like 2 minutes to the fast guys, due to fear of exposure and speed (my lack of), while later in the day I would be within 4 seconds of some of the worlds fastest downhill men, so strange, but that is the beauty of the Trans Provence.

Tracey Mosley and Anka Martin, two of the most amazing gals I have had the pleasure of meeting and riding with. What an awesome additions to the Trans Provence, while the men have stepped up their game, so too have the women. Sometimes during the long days of a stage race I get tired of the ma-cheesmo and it’s so refreshing to have a women’s perspective. These two have a long history in the Mtb world and have criss-crossed the ocean of amazing, I thank god they are here to keep me sane and add a wonderful perspective to this awesome event. This year they started the season with the Cape Epic and now they will finish with the Trans Provence, now that’s a bookend to a great year.

We finished SP1 and headed to SP2. Once there it was to be one of the last special stages with a +110 meters of climbing, or the last time for the XC guys to pick up some time. For me to gain time on guys like Nico, Weir, Jerome or Fabian on a downhill is impossible, but throw in some up and the field becomes vaguely level. I didn’t come to the TP to race really, but pin a number on me and I will go hard and fast like any donkey, flogged repeatedly.

A little down, a little up, a little more technical down and it was time for lunch. SP2 was such a beautiful blend of technical down, punishing up and more flowing down that there was really little to complain about. Not so, someone is always unhappy, getting lost or flatting, this is the nature of the ‘race’ game. Once you pin numbers on, lay out a course you become liable for an earful of opinion – cause no matter what you do, someone else can do it better. Thank god the voice of reason resides with the masses or these loons would sway the sane to insanity.

Lunch in Provence, do I need to say more; on a grassy field above a river in the sunshine with a bunch of other smiling cyclists, sheers perfection.

This day delivered more diversity than any other, from the alpine to the forest and then onto open gravel skree style that instantly brought original freeride to mind. An old course used in the past for Enduro’s -‘Grey Earth’ something reminiscent of  middle earth and Mordor was a smooth fast flowing Utah experience that  one wished could go on forever. Onto SP4 and another ramble through the woods, down fast flowing trails, around multiple hairpins and switchbacks and all the while reading new terrain at mach chicken, what a joy.

Rolling into town, just 3 km’s before the campsite, a whole bunch our brethren were hunkered down having beers at the local café. Ben Cruz had wrecked in the ‘Grey Earth’ stage and was awaiting an ambulance; with mixed emotions we enjoyed our beers. It wasn’t until Ben headed out for x-rays and gave us the thumbs up that we truly unleashed our gusto. This is an adventure in full swing and holding back is just not possible, viva Trans Provence.

Day 5- Another Amazing Day – Deep in the Ozarks of France

Guillaumes to St-Sauvewru-sru-Tinee– 39.2 km’s

977 meters UP

1954 meters DOWN

It’s the journey, how could Ash have found this route, it’s the race, how can we all be shredding the singletrack and having so much fun? And the debate will rage on far into the winter; what is the magic here, why is this a ‘must do’ race? Why, because the people behind the scene really care and have taken the time to put on an amazing all-inclusive event.

Day five is bringing home this strange dichotomy – race or ride, what is the greater part of the experience; I will currently reserve judgment for myself, but know where my thoughts are leaning; we shuttle up to another amazing small French town perched high on a hillside – “what do they do for work” I think to myself, and begin a traverse around the mountain through grassy fields and stunted oak trees. The trail climbs up to our first special stage and it all begins again, but there seems to be a prevailing empathy for the overall journey, and while some are still focused on the ‘race’ many are defaulting to the overall experience.

This particular route demands 110% and is technically challenging, seven minutes later we are in another town, breathing hard and remembering the recent blur of trail. Moments later our wheels are pointed up towards the next segment of our adventure, lias 2. Up into the mountain the Trans Provence winds, with panoramic views at every turn we navigate into the ski resort of Valberg and continue on. SP2 is short but enjoyable and delivers us to lunch, another amazing small town with a history we can only sense through the plaques and battered shutters, it feels like we are riding ourselves off the grid of civilization and backwards into history.

We are moving into the Maritime Alps getting closer to Nice, the topography is getting steeper and it feels like we are more cut off and more remote than ever before. Like turning back time, access to modern conveniences are becoming harder to find, at the same time, paths wind through hillside villages and mountain farms with fertile vegetable gardens, there is ‘plenty’ here, it’s just not what we are used to.

SP3 delivers us to Ruobion the proverbial hillside town – we are riding the walking paths through the town center, under tunnels and arches. We can’t stop ourselves from photo shooting what is an absolutely iconic reflection of old Europe and this amazing area.

Onwards we go towards the end of day five, descending some singletrack, I take Rowan Sorrells wheel for a number of turns and giggle just a little, because the trail is so sweet. The traverse to our final stage is very special; the sun is setting over large mountains to our right, from where we have been, it is warm and strong as it shines down the valley like a beacon to where we are headed. Another town, paved corners and painted murals under red terracotta clay roofs, stacked on a hillside and between town and field our ribbon of wicked sin – the singletrack of the Trans Provence.

This last SP whips corners, blast berms and slices rural hinterlands the likes of which we only wish were possible elsewhere. It’s a short run to the finish, steep and deep, I find another sharp edge to frustrate myself on, but c’est la vie, it’s the end of a ‘wicked, wicked’ day and the French pub we roll into is already populated by our people. Weir, Beaumont and the crew have already stacked up a bunch of beers, and without hesitation we jump in.