The quiet way to the highest road in Europe
If you enjoy cycling you might just go on to enjoy cycling uphill! It is only natural to find out the highest climb near you. In Europe, the highest ‘paved’ road is one that passes just below the summit of the Cime de la Bonette.
A fairly unimpressive lump of black rock; hidden at the end of a very long valley, in the Southern French Alps. Reaching an altitude of 2,802 metres above sea level; you will climb 1865 metres (6119ft) from the town of Saint Etienne-de-Tinee. Yet, to make the climb more relaxing; there is a quieter road that takes you away from the dangerous sportscars and motorbikes. Climbing via the ‘Col de la Moutière’ to the west; you can find yourself all alone in the beauty of nature.
The climb begins
I had booked into a nearby ski resort apartment in late September for a few days, whilst waiting for a storm to clear from the summit of the Cime de la Bonette. I made the most of the time by going for a walk along a ridgeline on the far side of the valley. This gave me a chance to reconnoitre the route and overwhelming grandeur of the Cime de la Bonette. It is a big mountain and not to underestimated even if you are a strong and confident climber. After my short walk, I returned to the apartment and prepared for the big day. I ate a hearty meal, prepared my bicycle and provisions and then went early to bed.
Rising early the next day; I drove to the start point in the gloomy pre dawn as the sun struggled to climb over the high horizon of the mountains. Then set off on my bicycle as it became light enough to be safely seen cycling on the road. For the reason that from Saint Etienne-de-Tinee to the turnoff to the quieter Moutière valley; there is approximately five kilometres of main road. Following signs for the village of Saint Dalmas le Selvage; I followed this much quieter road up.
After passing through Saint Dalmas le Selvage; the road gently climbed through a thick pine forest. Using hairpin bends to gain height; I relaxed and listened to the birdsong as the forest woke up around me. Passing through pastures I met shepherds driving their flocks down for the winter. I stopped and marvelled at gurgling mountain streams and refilled my water bottle. Then passing around a corner; the view opened up and there it was! Still a thousand metres above me was the summit of the Cime de la Bonette.
Please note: the summit loop dug into the rock.
Reaching the Col de la Moutière
Whilst seeing the summit for the first time; the treeline came to an end. I had entered the barren and windswept upper slopes of the Cime de la Bonette. With my eye naturally following the horizon to the summit above me. It was a warm and sunny autumn day and I felt so fortunate that I could enjoy such a beautiful place. Yet I thought of how humans must have struggled to survive in these places. From brutal conflicts in the Second World War, to refugees, to shepherds and locals just trying to stay alive.
As I approached the Col de la Moutière; the wind picked up from the next valley as I left the shelter of the leeward side of the ridge. Autumnal mountain crocuses nodded in the passing breeze and the long grass shimmered like waves on a green ocean. Either side of the track stood concrete gun emplacements from the Second World War. The single wide gunhole made the whole structure look like a one-eyed alien statue in such a serene and natural place. Reaching the colle; I could see down into the Moutière Valley to the west. The mountain forecast had mentioned the risk of a afternoon thunderstorm yet it was good to see above this beautiful valley only light cumulus clouds.
Turning to my right; the road climbed again, up and over a series of ridges to the Col de Restefond above. Plus here also was the reason why this route is much less travelled. The weather and unstoppable force of gravity had caused numerous rockfall to cover the road. So much so, that the best the maintenance crews could do was to hew a gravel path through the rockfall each spring. This meant most cars and sports-bikes could not use this road. Only 4×4 cars and off-road motorbikes; which were easier to hear from their deeper engine notes. As always the Cime de la Bonette stood above; casting a shadow over this high valley.
Cime de la Bonette
After another hour of struggling over the rough gravel track; I finally met the asphalt road that climbs up the northern side of the Cime de la Bonette from Jausiers. Whilst researching this climb; I read of terrible experiences on this road. From being harassed by flies to narrow misses with the local rally drivers.
Turning to the right; the final summit pyramid lay before me at the end of a rocky ridge. Here, I realised the absurdity of modern day egotism. For centuries a mule track happily passed over the ridge and dropped down into the safety of the valley. Yet to claim the title of the highest paved road in Europe; the local councillors built a loop that climbs almost to the top of the Cime de la Bonette. With no other purpose except to attract more tourists to the region.
Summit fever
Pedalling up this final loop was brutal. The gradients ran between 10 and 16% for almost a mile. Yet finally reaching the top of the Col de la Bonette; I was rewarded with breath-taking views. There is a small monument to commemorate the claim to being the highest paved road. Yet, I was only interested in all the natural beauty that rolled away to a distant horizon. After spending all morning looking up at this mountain; I was now looking down on everything around me. Including a brilliant view of the route up from Saint Etienne de Tinnee.
Timing and luck are everything when visiting viewpoints in touristy locations. By chance, as I reached the summit; I met only one Frenchman. We took photos of each other in various poses. Whilst having a interesting conversation with use of my terrible French. The Frenchman explained that the main road down is closed to traffic because of a rockfall down in the valley. This meant I could enjoy an almost traffic free descent back down to the car. Then, as if by magic; a pack of high revving motorbikes appeared beside us. Bidding the ‘monsieur’ a ‘bon voyage’; we got ready for the descent. I had wrapped a down jacket around my handlebars and had carried a thermal vest and Buff in my cycling jersey. After putting on all these clothes; I began to gently roll downhill. For ahead of me lay 27 kilometres (16.87 miles) of descent!
It is a long way down!
Rounding the first corner of the descent; the view opened towards the north and east. The road fell away back to the ridge and then down into the valley. Beyond, the mountains rolled away to the horizon as light cumulus clouds drifted above. I was in a very high and inhospitable place; yet for these moments mother nature seemed happy to share her wonder. I stopped and just stared in pure awe at such a wide and picturesque view. Then a cold wind seemed to pick up; as if to tell me to get going. I felt like I was cycling into a painting.
Reminders of less peaceful times
As I descended further into the Tinee Valley; I slowly began to become very cold. When I had reached the summit of the Cime de la Bonette; my heart began to rest and recover. Which meant in turn; I was producing no internal heat from the exertion of climbing. With my extra layers of warmth and by gritting my teeth; I fought the mental pain of feeling cold with all my might.
Rounding a corner; an impressive obelisk appeared by the side of the road. Stopping to read the information board; I was amazed to learn it was to commemorate French army General Charles Jacquemot. Killed not by enemy fire but struck down by lightning on this very spot in 1931. I try to remember every fallen soldier and appreciate each day for those who are not able to anymore.
After the memorial to the fallen general; I passed numerous bunkers and abandoned military camps. Now thankfully no longer needed; these structures remain like grim memorials to the common men that lost their lives hereabouts. Pausing again to remember and reflect; I then set off again down into the valley. By now I was sheltered from the strong westerly winds by the high summit ridges. I began to regain feeling in my frozen fingers and my legs stopped involuntary muscle spasms from the cold.
Rolling into relaxation
Before I left the upper Tinee Valley; I passed through the small hamlet of Bouzièyas. Arriving before me was a long distance pilgrim who was leading a horse. Using a mixture of English, French and Spanish; he happily explained that he was on the way to Santiago de Compostela. What an amazing sight to see a traveller of a now bygone age. With little motorized traffic; the scene of the horse grazing on the verge showed how relaxing the old ways must have been. Cars, technology and modern society has forced to speed up; yet I think the key is to keep stopping and remembering who we are. Living at the natural pace set by nature and the seasons; we can only ever be relaxed.
Returning back to Saint Etienne de Tinee; I stopped on the bridge over the river. I had just climbed up the highest paved road in Europe with my own two legs and a bicycle. I had seen breath-taking views of the Mercantour Alps and Provence. In my kitchen I had hearty dinner and beer to look forward to that evening. The sun was shining down and I felt truly relaxed but very much alive.
To read about more of my routes in France; then click here: Routes in France
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