It’s been a strange time. We seemed to skip right from summer to autumn in a day, then thankfully recovered a little bit since the beginning of October. I always get rather down when the temperatures dip and the days become shorter; this year has been no different.
It’s also a busy time; as the days disappear and I have fewer left, it means I usually end up fairly occupied visiting friends and trying to get as many beautiful rides as possible before I leave. It’s a rollercoaster of intense emotions from gratitude, to aching sadness, to malaise to utter joy. It’s always like this, yet somehow it always takes me by surprise.
Thankfully after a rather chilly end to September, we had a glorious first week of October with beautiful blue skies, sunshine and summer-ish temperatures. I needed to take advantage of it and cycle as much as possible. In the back of my mind were the multiple times I rode up to Chalet Reynard on the Mont Ventoux this year but never went to the top. Jason reminded me, as I am literally at the base of the Malaucène side, it would be criminal not to go up. But planning for a warm enough day can be challenging this late in the season, so I didn’t want to commit. Alas, there was no excuse once the temperatures rebounded, and even though it would be frigid at the top, it clearly wouldn’t be getting any better. And I don’t really like the Malaucène side. It’s equally as difficult as the Bédoin side, but there is a stretch of three horrific kilometres of 11-12% that are stretched out in front of you. It’s a mentally more challenging side for me, plus coming down can be frighteningly fast in that section. And when I am cold, I am not at my best.
So, I thought I might go up and come down the Bédoin side, then back home. But as I was slowly crawling my way up, I kept thinking given this side frightens me—especially the descent—I better just bite the bullet and come down once and for all and face my fears head-on. I used to be a very aggressive descender until I had an accident (which I can’t remember, but my subconscious does). Ever since specific gradients or hairpin turns can freak me out a little. And three kilometres of 12% at break-neck speed is overwhelming for me.
But in the end, I now have a new respect for this north side of the mighty Ventoux. It’s stunningly beautiful. You get the best views unlike the other two sides—the mountains and valley of the Drôme to the north and views all the way to the Luberon to the south. It’s undeniably the most spectacular side. And there are a few reprieves where you can shake out the legs before more torture ensues. Without a doubt, I’d be willing to suffer going up the north side again, but after everything… I am still pretty uncomfortable with the descent. Even though I muddled through it, it’s not my favourite part. Thankfully the views will continue to tempt me.
