If you’re an avid cyclist this might appear to be a dumb question.

Those of us that ride, not only have a love affair with our bikes but also with the distant places our bikes take us.  This is particularly true when we have the opportunity to ride the sacred streets of places like Tuscany, Italy,  Girona, Spain or the Basque Country.  So, if you have an avid cyclist on your Valentines Day list and want to give them an extraordinary gift, blow them away with a romantic bike vacation this summer.  We promise, they’ll love YOU even more.  Below is a list of our fave bike vacations that fit into the category of ‘Romantic’.

1.  La Rioja & the Basque Country - Off the beaten tourist path are two regions that let wine, food and slow rural roads rule.  Start in La Rioja where the wine rolls on and off the tongue .  Ride the romantic Camino de Santiago pilgrimmage road into Pamplona for tapas like none other.  Stay in a luxury Basque-style auberge nestled in the green rolling Basque hills.  Finish the trip with a ride into Espelette where spicy dark chocolate tempts every passing cyclist.

2.  Provence & Mt. Ventoux - With Cotes-du-Rhone wines, quintessential French villages and chambres d’hotes du charme, a Provence & Mt. Ventoux bike vacation is a lover’s delight.  Love can be challenging so we go easier on the rides!  Off the bike lover’s activities can  include cooking classes, wine tasting or lounging at a hip streetside cafe.

3. The Dolomites & Italian Alps - Is there any place more romantic than Italy?  Keep love adventurous by riding into the mountains that havemade the Giro d’Italia famous.  We’ll ride iconic climbs all day, enjoying Italian Prosecco, gelato and other aphrodisiacs at night.

Make any of these trips even more romantic by booking your own private or custom trip!  Email us at info@ridestrongbiketours.com

I’m still learning French. In fact, I will always be learning French.   Just this morning, for instance, I had a French lesson while climbing the Col de la Forclaz.

The French verbs ‘connaitre’ and ‘savoir’ are always tough. Both connaitre and savoir mean ‘to know’ and it’s highly confusing to know when to use one or the other when referring to a person, place or thing. One thing I do know is that the first condition to knowing a climb is to ride it. You can read a map, study a profile, follow it on GPS and even drive it. But until you feel every contour under your own power on two wheels, you won’t know the road at all.

If I ever knew the south side of the Col de la Forclaz, then I’ve buried it so deep I don’t remember it. The last time I was in Lac d’Annecy in the French Alps was several years ago. Many of my friends talk about the Forclaz like it’s a legend. They remember every switchback and the three areas of +11% pitch. They talk about it with such awe and respect that I woke this morning in my cozy Swiss-style chalet on the eastern bank of Lac d’Annecy a bit nervous about my summit.

Downing a café allongé, I clicked into my Speedplays and enjoyed a brisk, mostly downhill ride from Menthon Saint-Bernard to the town of Faverges. In Doussard I connected to the bike path and hooked up with a small peloton of local French cyclists in team kit. Happily, I allowed my bike to be sucked into their slipstream for a free ride. There were loads of cyclists going every which way, however none that followed me as I turned hard left for the 8 km ascent of the Forclaz. I wonder why?

As every good climb in France should, there’s a refreshing cold water supply at the base of the Forclaz spouting out of a quintessential French fountain. Stopping to fill my bottles, I struck up a French conversation with another thirsty cyclist cut like a knife. He asked the usual questions like where am I from and why would I come all the way to France to ride a bike. It was the next line of questioning that made me nervous (and gave me a French lesson).

He asked incredulously if I was really going up the Forclaz. ‘Oui, monsieur,’ I said with a smile. Then he asked, ‘Est-ce que vous CONNAISSEZ la Forclaz? ‘ Ahaaa!!! That’s how to use it….am I familiar with this climb…do I really know it? I responded confidently with the proper use of connaitre vs. savoir, ‘No, monsieur. Je ne connais pas la Forclaz.’ Then he asked without insulting me whether I ride very much.

‘Oui monsieur, j’aime le velo. Je fait de velo beaucoup and I want to CONNAIS this climb’. With that he looked at me as if I were absolutely crazy and pointed his bike down the flat path towards the hamlet of Balmette. I simply shrugged thankful for the French lesson and shifted all the way down for the slog.

I don’t consider myself a pessimist but I like to expect the worst. When you expect the worst then you have infinite possibilities to be pleasantly surprised. All my life I continue to be pleasantly surprised by big and small things. I was surprised to make it through high school alive and surprised to graduate college. I was more than a little surprised to have passed the bar and surprised to qualify for Boston. I was surprised to get my first client and am surprised by each tour’s success. I am surprised when a plane takes off on time and surprised when I get on the right bus.

Today, I was surprised by the Forclaz. I was so worked up over the difficulty of the climb, I was convinced it was a monster.

Admittedly, the start is rough. It kicks up without warning to over 11%. But then it’s downright pleasurable with the requisite number of fun switchbacks, a long section of relief, fresh new pavement and just when you start cursing yourself for eating the full fat locally produced Haute Savoie yogurt for dessert, the climb is over just like that. I spent more time at the top chatting with other cyclists, watching the parapenters, soaking in the view and sipping my café allongé then I did actually sweating and burning fat.

Now the next time someone asks whether I know the Forclaz, I can say ‘Oui, je connais la Forclaz tres bien!’

By, Julie Gildred, founder Ride Strong Bike Tours.   The Col de la Forclaz is one of the many sublime Alpine climbs we know and enjoy on our Lake Annecy European bike tour.

A bike tour complete with riding many of the classic cols in Europe is, for many, the chance of a lifetime. You want to be as fit as possible before you leave for your trip, given other life duties. That means being very precise with your training, alternating weeks of more volume and intensity with rest and recovery weeks.

When people are committed to a training plan, checking off the ride hours is typically no problem. The hand-wringing comes when you happen to live where the biggest hill is a highway overpass. What should you do?

Here are seven training tips you can implement now, that will make a difference when you finally hit those hills:

1. Strength training: A strength training routine that includes hip extension exercises (leg press, squats, step-ups) will help you climb hills on the bike when you have no hills at home. A good routine begins by strengthening tendons and ligaments with low weights and higher repetitions before adding higher loads and lower repetitions to help improve your strength – and ultimately power – on the bike.
2. Strength training balance: Be sure to have a strength program that works opposing muscle groups. For example, if you work your hamstrings with leg curls, be sure to include knee extensions as well. In addition to strength, you do need a balance with flexibility. Include stretching in your routine.
3. Core strength: Often, it isn’t the legs that give out on long climbs, but the back. On those long climbs, your body position is different than on the flats. Combine position with high effort and some people get back spasms. Be sure to build your core strength with crunches, back extensions and other various core strength exercises. You can also do Pilates or Yoga to build core strength and balance as well. (You will need that balance when riding through big crowds at extremely low speeds on a hill stage during the big professional Tours, such as the Giro or Tour de France.)
4. Lactate threshold training: It is good for you to know that doing lactate threshold training does help – even if the training is done on the flats. Many of the big mountain climbs are long and sustained efforts, so having the capability to get into a rhythm and hold a strong, steady pace is gives you an advantage.
5. Use a bigger gear: On some of your regular routes, use a bigger gear than you normally do and try to maintain the same speed. This slows your cadence and increases the force you apply to the pedals. This is one way to simulate hills.
6. Ride into a headwind: For those of you that live in very windy regions, intentionally ride into the wind. You will need to generate more force to ride against the wind. Play with your body position to stay low and aerodynamic, while trying to maintain a reasonable speed. This is another way to simulate hills.
7. Use gears to your advantage: No less than a month before you leave for vacation, be sure your bike is equipped with appropriate climbing gears. Depending on your personal preference, that means a triple chainring or a compact crank set up with a large cassette on the rear wheel. At minimum, you want a 39 small chainring on the front and an 11-28 cassette on the rear wheel. All the pros know that trying to tough it out with gearing meant for flat roads will leave you well behind everyone else and you risk knee soreness forcing an early end to your tour.

While it is impossible to completely replace good hill training when you live somewhere flat, you can do a few things that will have an impact on your climbing ability. With all the suggestions, be sure to begin conservatively and increase the training load as you gain more fitness.

Gale Bernhardt has coached at two Olympic Games. She can help you get in shape or get faster. You can find out more information at www.active.com/gale

 This is not to say I don’t love a good challenge.  In fact, I look for challenges all over the world.  And while I might push myself to set a running PR or climb some ridiculously long and steep Dolomitii passes, you won’t find me racing anyone, least of all, my cycling partners. 

 Then Strava came around.

 For those who don’t know it yet, Strava is a social fitness application that allows athletes everywhere to share, compare and compete with other’s workouts.   It’s as addicting as Facebook and can be as motivational as a good coach.  You can follow friends and strangers comparing your time’s against theirs.  Most fun are the segments of a particular course.  Strava seamlessly calculates your times against yourself and others, awarding PR’s, Queen or King of the Mountains and other appropriate badges.  Who doesn’t like kudos for a job well done?

 At the nudging of one of my cycling partners, I reluctantly joined the community of Strava athletes.  Within a few weeks, I was following and being followed by friends and clients all over the world and had garnered a number of QOM awards, most all of them by default. 

 The more interesting phenomenon was not that but the increased pace of our weekly rides.  I discovered my best girlfriends wanted to compete for Queen of the Mountains on Pine Hill (which is really Planidares) or take away other well-earned titles.  Our talkative social rides turned into quieter rides with high intensity sprints and a lot of heavy breathing.  One of my friends suddenly got back into full, fast form literally overnight. 

 I ‘d be lying if I told you I wasn’t thinking about my Strava statistics on every single ride.  But I denied all of this sudden competitiveness until last night.  You see, I missed our regular Tuesday ride.  It was then, that one of our riding partners took my hard earned QOM title on Planidares.  How dare she do that in my absence?   I mentally declared war.

 I set off this morning alone in my full fighting kit.  This is the matchy-matchy bibs & jersey, zinc oxide smeared like war paint on my cheeks.  I couldn’t let that title be in someone else’s hands for more than a day.  Rather than ride directly to the climb, I did a long warm-up preparing my legs for the all out assault.    I saw my other friend on my way out, giving her the focused head nod in passing rather than stopping for useless chit-chat.  Is this what competition is all about?

 After the climb and back to the house, I didn’t even bother changing before uploading my Garmin data to Strava.  I needed to know whether I won back my badge and fast.  It occurred to me as I was waiting for the upload, that I’d turned into a monster that I’d never seen in my past.  The monster in me has come out.  Thanks Strava!

Conditions:  Road surface was perfectly paved asphalt, fast flats until Ko Samet.  Weather:  extremely muggy and hot.

Morning prayers - departing Chanthaburi

At just 12 degrees north of the equator, the extreme heat upon waking up this morning was predictable.  It was another sunny and muggy day in Southeastern Thailand and we performed our morning rituals like we have every other day since arriving: gobbing on the sunscreen, drinking a quick cup of black coffee and scarfing our fried eggs and pushing off for a day of riding. 

This day of riding was also our longest.  But first, we needed to negotiate our way out of town.  Last night we had dinner on the waterfront in what was essentially someone’s living room.  It was an intimate affair of the hip and young in Chanthaburi and us.  But when we tried to find the small road out of Chanthaburi, we learned that Chanthaburi is a bonafide city of 90,000+. We couldn’t read the road signs so missed our turn-off and ended up in heavy rush hour traffic for the first 10 or so kays out of town.  I finally bought a road map with poor resolution but learned we were on the right trajectory for Rayong – 110 km away.

It was fortunate that the road was fast because we were literally on Thailand’s national highway 3.  In Laos, a national highway is similar to a two lane tertiary country road. In Thailand, this particular highway is four lanes across with a very respectable shoulder and steady flow of fast moving traffic.  The biggest obstacles are the occasional motorbikes that ride in the bike lane opposite the moving traffic and the pumpkin carts.

Most unfamiliar with cycling don’t realize that it can be a team sport.  On most days, Rob and I would take turns ‘pulling’ giving the person in the back an opportunity to rest and ride in the draft.  On this particular day, however, Rob was riding strong out of the gate so I opted to sit in his slip stream, conserving my energy until we would need it later in the day.

Iced coffee please!

The cons of being on a highway in a developed country did not outweigh the benefits of ubiquitous roadside gas stations with eating establishments, 7-11’s and toilets.  We never wanted for cold water or fuel.  But, the fact of the matter is we rode the first 70 km on only one stop of the best iced coffees ever.

At 60 km we entered the town of Klaeng, searching for a turn off that would take us to a coastal road to a beach called Laem Mae Pim.  We didn’t talk about it but we both understood that if we turned off highway 3, we would not make it to Rayong by nightfall.  But we also knew that we couldn’t leave Thailand without taking a dip in the Gulf of Thailand.

Yes! The Gulf of Thailand!

We didn’t listen to the police officer who told us to continue straight but instead we wiggled through some lovely side streets hoping to find the coast.  When we started to see inflatable turtles and other types of beach rafts, we knew we were close.  At 80 kms the road curves to Laem Mae Pim beach with spectacular views of the Gulf.  We stopped along the long line up of beach cafes for a quick lunch and decide our next move. 

Although there were a series of accommodations in Laem Mae Pim, there was nothing appealing about staying here.  Upon closer inspection, it’s a dirty beach with trash lining the water line and a series of tacky touristy restaurants, substandard hotels and beach hawkers.  We pushed on another 27 km into a headwind to Ban Phe where in less than 15 minutes we found ourselves on an old colorful boat ‘ferry’ for the 45 minute transfer to Ko Samet island.

Bikes get best seats on ferry to Ko Samet

We arrived on Ko Samet at about 3:30 and ordered a beer to use the free wifi to find a recommended place to stay.  We could see a lot of backpacker hostels around us but we wanted something away from the fray. 

Ko Samet is known as the party island on weekends and holidays because of its proximity to Bangkok and beautiful beaches.  We also learned that Ko Samet is part of a nationally protected marine park which, we deduced, means a few things.  First, each person visiting the island pays 200 baht to be there; and second, there are no paved roads or high rise buildings.  Part of the ‘conservation’ effort also means that there are no signs allowed to be posted directing visitors to a hotel.  This makes sense since absolutely everyone arriving has no choice but to hire one of the local green pick-up trucks to take them to where they need to go.  But since we had our mountain bikes, we took off in search of TubTim resort located on a beach somewhere south about 4 km.  It was the longest 4 km of my life.  Between the potholes, sharp inclines, mud crossings and getting lost it took us another 45 minutes at the end of a long day to travel that 4 km.

Sunrise at Tub Tim beach, Ko Samet

I was too tired to swear and Rob had disappeared down a different road but eventually we both found our beach bungalow where neither one of us really moved for the next two nights.

We’re back in Bangkok now having been rubbed, cleaned, fed and rested.  We took a death defying minibus from Rayong back to BKK on the super highway.  I would have liked to have ridden one more day to Pattaya but it would have to be on some quieter roads.  We got some bike boxes from ProBikes near Lumpini park for 30 baht/box ($1).  Easy peasy.

Homeward Bound.

I’m on a steady diet of Cipro and Lomotil.  Food doesn’t stay in me for longer than an hour.  I’m only grateful that this didn’t happen while we were still riding.

Homeward bound!

Conditions:  Good paved roads, light traffic, very little shade, pancake flat for nearly the first 60 km.

Angokor Wat at Sunset

After a few too many rest days, flying to Siem Reap, Cambodia, touring the Angkorian temples and eating our way through the streets of Siem Reap, we finally made our way via a small Toyota Camry to the town of Battambang for an afternoon.  From Siem Reap to Battambang it’s 160 km by going up National Highway 6 towards Poipet and then in Sisophon turning left down Nat’l Highway 5 to Battambang.  The road is in great condition but extremely busy and uninspiring.  I had absolutely no yearning to be riding it. 

I had read about Battambang as a romantic coming of age arts town in the New York Times Travel section.  Indeed, it has some potential.  With the Sangker river running through the center and old French colonial buildings and street lamps, it has a very lazy feel.  We enjoyed being out of the tourist chaos of Seam Reap and into a town authentically Cambodian.  After a ride about town and a few refreshments at the Riverside Balcony cafe (fresh lime juice, sugar and vodka), we ended up at our hotel pool chilling the afternoon away.

The road to Pailin

Due to the heat, we woke up early to get an early start on our ride to Pailin.  Today would be a scorcher.  From the Battambang center, you weave your way down the river and head south west on highway 57 direction Pailin.  We lost sight of any road signs and took some very interesting back streets out of town.  This is where all the local school kids were walking to school; motorbikes riding four across going to work. 

I never learned how to say ‘hello’ in Khmer (the Cambodian language) like we did in Laos.  In fact, one of the first words Cambodians are taught when they learn how to speak is ‘helloooooo’.  They even say it to each other.  The very next words they learn is ‘one dollah’.  This is because for most of the country, the US Dollar has taken over the Riel as their national currency.  Ironically, however, when you pay in dollars, you get Riel for change.

In any event, we had the usual hordes of kids running along the road wishing us ‘hello’ pretty much for the first 15 km out of town. 

Why stop in Pailin? Onward to the border.

I was having a really rough day until I realized 35 kays into the ride my brakes were rubbing.  Once we cleared up that minor issue, we sailed at about 30 km/hour on the silky smooth roads.  Except for a few regions, Cambodia is pancake flat.  We didn’t gain more than 3 feet in elevation in the first 50 km.  This made for some long, straight sections with the sun beating down our backs and a lot of shifting around in our saddles to change the friction.  We were looking at record timing, however, and realized we’d make it to Pailin well before lunch.

We didn’t know until we got there that this region’s number 1 economic activity is Cassava growing and processing.  Cassava is the plant most known for tapioca but being processed now as a biofuel for the production of ethanol.  The entire way from the big temple just outside of Battambang to Pailin we watched what essentially looked like slave labor chipping away at the Cassava, drying it, moving it and storing it.

In spite of the new apparent wealth in cities like Siem Reap and Phnom Phen, where you can get just about anything your heart desires, rural Cambodia is a completely different story.  Unlike Laos, there is no refrigeration outside of the cities.  Every thatched hut selling drinks had a large cooler with three-day old ice water trying to keep things cold.  Luke warm was the only temperature I could find in a drink and most products were unrecognizable.  In Laos, my favorite pick me up along the road was a Nestle espresso roast drink.  It’s served cold like a Starbucks Frappucino.  In Cambodia, no such thing….not even a Coca Cola in most shacks.

Landmine Clearance Billboard

We skipped eating and sailed into Pailin at roughly 83 kms.  There were supposed to be a few good guesthouses/hotels but we didn’t see much of anything.  This is the last real town before you reach the Thai border 20 km away.  Its current claim to fame (if you want to call it that) is it’s the town where many of the former Khmer rouge leaders (Brother No.’s Two and Three) retired and await international tribunal.

It all sounded a bit creepy to me and since the day was still young (albeit hot) we decided to push on to the border.  We heard there were some big casino hotels at the border with A/C and entertainment for all the Thai men who crossover to gamble on the weekends.

From Pailin to the Phsa Prum/Ban Packard border the road begins undulating and it’s very remote.  An excellent crossing point if you’re on bike as there’s really no traffic at all.  With 1 km to go there wasn’t a building in sight and I chuckled at the thought of seeing a casino in the middle of this rural countryside.  Sure enough, as we came around the last bend, there it was, the 7-story Crown Diamond Casino and Hotel.  Just down the street is the newer Victoria Casino hotel.

So far neither one of us has come down with any food ailments.  If it’s going to happen, it will be tomorrow.  We both ate a very late lunch at the hotel coffee shop.  I was so hungry I kept eating it even though I knew it was bad food.  Dinner tonight was a Cornette ice cream bar.  There’s nothing to do in this border outpost so we spent the night reading and resting for tomorrow.

Phsa Prum, Cambodia to Chantaburi, Thailand 72.5 km/902′ – Route Details

Conditions: Excellent aspahlt roads with wide shoulders.  Road widening is going on on the 317  to make it even wider.  Hot and muggy all day.

Phsa Prum Cambodia - Thai Border - waiting for stamp

After a few delays this morning in the toilet, neither one of us wanted to risk breakfast at the hotel coffee shop.  We found a small outdoor café at the Victoria supermarket and unsuccessfully tried to get fried eggs to give us a little fuel.  Nobody speaks English around here so instead we got fried egg sandwiches on white wonder bread smothered with Mayonnaise and fresh lettuce.  So much for breakfast.

From there, it’s 50 meters to the border crossing.  At Cambodia departures desk, it took a painfully long time.  I assumed the guy was looking for some green backs but eventually he stamped us and we rode into Thailand.  It’s a bit confusing which way to go but eventually we followed a monk to the desk for our arrival cards and very efficiently got stamped into Thailand.  Nobody asked for proof of onward travel as had been reported by others.

Immediately, the tone was different.  The first patrolman said ‘Welcome to Thailand’ and it felt welcome indeed.  It smelled different, was hotter, more tropical and cleaner.  I could tell it was going to be a good day.

The 24 km from Ban Packard (border Thai side) to Pong Nam Ron is lovely.  A nice wide road with turns, undulations and Thai jungle.  Traffic is minimal which is a good thing because it took us a while to figure out that they drive on the other side of the road here.  We saw only 1 accommodation (a home stay) on the Thai side and wished we had made it to there last night.

In Pong Nam Ron is your first opportunity to get Thai Bhat at the ATM on the corner next to the cute old man making delicious Thai café with condensed milk.  We stopped for money and refreshments and at the T turned left.  From Pong Nam Ron to Chantaburi it’s 40 km.  With some serious mountains looming in front of us we had no idea what to expect.  The 317 road was immediately busier but there was a fairly good shoulder.  I need to go back and look at my Garmin but it was almost 40 km downhill!!  We were in heaven.  At first there was a very steep descent of about 10 km and the rest of the day it was about a -1% grade.  With the momentum of our weighty bikes, we made it to Chantaburi just in time for lunch.

Asked Monks to prayer for our long ride tomorrow.

We almost pushed on to the beach but decided to stay here.  This has got to be the most unexpected surprise of a town.  It’s known as the gem capital of Thailand and, indeed, the international gem show finishes up today.  But what’s more spectacular is the waterfront street, one of the first streets of the town.  With a mixed Chinese, Vietnamese, Thai and French history, the row of houses and architecture is extremely unique.  The artisans are along the street now with their homemade Durian cookies, artwork, gems, mat weaving and even cafes.  This is an off-the-beaten tourist paths town that I would highly recommend for a day.

The only other significant side note is I think I tore whatever meniscus I have left in my knee while using the squat toilet.  Tomorrow will be a tough ride unless we can find some Voltaren.  Oh yeah, and we have no maps of Thailand which I hope won’t be an issue.  It’s not like we can read the road signs anyway.

Hill People

Day 2- Kiouw Kacham to Kasi Hot Springs – 75 km/1235m (4050’) vertical.  Route Details.

Conditions: Generally good asphalt with some dirt on the hairpin turns.  Weather was perfect with coolish windy conditions in the morning and overcast skies in afternoon.

The age old question presented itself early this morning as chickens  and roosters kept crossing the road in front of us.  I was too tired to ponder the answer.  In fact, if I had a gun, I would have shot them all.  You see, a party ensued last night at our guesthouse with a cast of nameless characters: the wealthy guesthouse owner from Vientiane, his speechless father-in-law from the hill country, a policeman from Vietnam, an incredibly drunk brother who tried to serve me food from his chopsticks, a Japanese woman and her Australian boyfriend and a few others who were never introduced.  Everyone had a bit too much homemade whiskey Lao.  What else was there to do in this town?  So, we promptly passed out after our long day of riding at about 8:30 only to be awoken at 3:30 by roosters crowing right outside our door.  After that, there was a strange cacophony of unpleasant bathroom noises that had a searching for coffee by 5 a.m.

The Road to Phoukoun

In spite of the early wake up, we had a slow start which continued for most of the day.  We stayed along the ridge of the mountain with some pesky undulations, big vistas and a strong head wind.  The two most significant climbs of the day occurred at 30-something kilometers and 42 km respectively, with a valley full of black pigs in between.   Both climbs seemed to deal out a healthy punch which, in retrospect, was probably more a result of yesterday’s ride than actual steep incline.  There a few small villages at the start of each climb where you can find a thatched hut with cold water and drinks.  A cold Fanta propelled us all the way to Phoukoun for lunch.  Phoukoun is 50 km south of where we started and is an incredibly dusty junction town where Nat’l Highway 13 and Nat’l Highway 7 merge.  There are 4 dated  guesthouses-cum-restaurants at the junction (all of whom were out of chicken) and a lively farmer’s market.  Further south, if you have the misfortune of being stuck in Phoukoun, there are some much nicer, newer guesthouses that would be worth a few extra bucks.

Enjoying the descent after hill country

After a hearty bowl of beef noodle soup, we followed one of the many Chinese car rallies out of town.  It’s the week for Chinese New Year and hundreds of Chinese tourists travel in convoys of expensive and completely out of place cars.  Other than the Chinese, traffic on the road is minimal. Drivers give bikes plenty of room to feel unthreatened.  The descent from Phoukoun doesn’t start for another 10 km but eventually the descent and most unbelievable scenery unfolds.  We were at the top looking across into an ampitheatre of jagged limestone karsts.  As we descended closer to the karsts we entered a jungle of green ferns, banana trees and palms.  Before reaching Kasi Hot Springs, there is one final ascent of 15%.  It’s small but unexpected in the afternoon.   

Kasi Hot Springs resort is a stretch.  It’s a series of 5 wooden ‘rustic’ bungalows with toilets and cold water shower for 60,000 kip/night.  They’re blessed with a view of the mountains and a man made bathing pool they refer to as the ‘hot springs’.  I spent the afternoon watching the Lao people meticulously bathe themselves in the hot springs while Rob caught a quick nap before our delicious dinner across the street of stir-fried rice with peanuts.  Note to cyclists:  There is only one option here for dinner and breakfast.  It’s also where you pay for your room.  Nobody speaks English but it’s easy to figure out and the food is delicious.

Day 3: Kasi Hot Springs to Vang Vieng – 78 km/487m (1600’) Route Details. Conditions:  It was warmer than the other days because of our lower elevation but a cloud cover kept it ideal until about noon.  Road was good to bad.

The Road to Vang Vieng

It’s unbelievable how you can sleep 10 hours on a bed as hard as a concrete block – but we did!  We raced the Australian cycling family staying in the other bungalows to the restaurant for breakfast but ultimately we all sat together and scarfed our yummy omelettes and slowly sipped our Café Lao (strong coffee with condensed milk.  The Aussies were going the opposite direction so we swapped stories of what was in store for the day.  Rob and I knew most of our serious climbing was over but what we didn’t know was road conditions would deteriorate from good to bad to worse.  One Aussie had broken 3 spokes the day prior.

The ride from Kasi Hot Springs to Kasi (20 km south) is absolutely lovely.  We were in no hurry and stopped for several pictures.  For the most part, you ride along what is now the valley floor with the jungled walls rising straight up on either side.  This continues with some variation andsmall climbs and descents until we reconnect with the NamSong river.  With the river on our right the road is largely flat the rest of the way into Vang Vieng.  The problem occurs, however, about 15 km out when the road completely deteriorates to mostly dirt and pot holes.  That alone would not be so bad.  But inevitably, in the middle of these sections, a convoy of Chinese tourists would pass kicking up a plume of dust in our faces.

Arriving in Vang Vieng was a shock to our systems.  It’s the party and backpacker capitol of Laos where 18-year olds stumble around high on ‘happy meals’.  Most are bandaged from cuts acquired while drunk floating down the river and they all enjoy staring at old American cartoons playing endlessly on the TVs in bars.  In need of some more than basic necessities, we checked into the beautiful riverside Villa NamSong Hotel.  We spent the remainder of the sunset hours chatting with a Dutch couple who we passed earlier today on the road who are riding from Luang Prabang back to Bangkok.  Enjoying the A/C and real shower tonight!

Day 4 – Vang Vieng to Phonhong – 87 km/540m ascent Route Details

You desire to know the art of living, my friend? It is contained in one phrase: Make use of suffering. – Henri-Frederic Amiel

I knew before we left there’d be days like these.  Days where the excitement of a new country wears off, the scenery is non-existent and the ride one long slog.  This is suffering.  Not the type of suffering that comes with a long climb or intense race.  No, that type of suffering that Henri-Federic Amiel equates with being fully alive I would revel in.  This suffering is of a completely sort.

The day started with a civilized breakfast at Villa NamSong resort overlooking the particularly scenic river.  This lulled us into a natural hypnotic state where we lost track of time and didn’t hit the road until 9:00 – our latest start so far.

Rob amused!

We’d read several reports on today’s ride as being mostly downhill and fast.  All failed to mention that the road conditions were horrendous and never let up.  Starting the day it was 80% off road, dusty, pot-holey, traffic laden, trash covered crap.  Ending the day, it wasn’t much different.  With entirely uninspiring conditions, it was all I could do to stay focused to watch the line for the best section of dirt road, avoid the pot holes and stay upright.  The Chinese car rallys were out in full force and we passed several Laotian weddings which all featured really bad music, money cars and lots of village people.  We broke the misery by amusing ourselves with the village names like Hin Tit which was followed by the town of Phone Ho.  What scenery existed was covered completely in brown soot.  At some point in time we stopped to buy face masks.  We’ve both developed a chronic cough resulting from the inhalation of so much dust and diesel fumes.

We met at least 4 riders moving in the opposite direction and enjoyed swapping stories and sharing in the suffering.  The English couple were going on 10 months of bike travel and still loving every moment.

As the day waned ever so slowly, the only thing I could do to stop the suffering was begin to day dream.  We had heard of an eco-resort by the lake in Phon Hong that I was imagining as our last luxury hotel.  It wasn’t until we arrived here that we looked at a map to discover there is no lake in Phon Hong.  The one guesthouse in town looked even less appealing than our ride so we searched around and discovered a new guesthouse in Phon Hong just before the center and to the right up a hill.  Mony Guesthouse and Restaurant (that’s how it’s spelled) is a new place with AC, private nice bathroom, satellite TV and a place to hang your wet clothes out back.  The cold shower was definitely the one and only highlight of the day.  We dined again tonight on stir-fried chicken and veggies, a healthy portion of sticky rice and some good cold Beer Laos.

A side note for cyclists.  We debated long and hard whether to take cross bikes or mountain bikes on this trip.  Every kilometer of today’s sufferfest we were so happy to be on our mountain bikes.  Even happier with our TravelContact tires.  Thanks Dad for finding those.

 Day 5 – Phon Hong to the Capital City, Vientiane – 74 km/133m ascent (436’) – Route Details

Conditions – Slightly better road conditions but the intermittent dusty roads continue all the way into the Capital city.  Traffic increased exponentially the closer we got to town.  Overcast skies kept the heat down.

Today’s ride went fast.  Most of the day was spent standing on the pedals, as our bums are bruised from the days prior.  There’s nothing particularly romantic, picturesque or inspiring about the scenery.  A few green rice paddies but nothing that compares to other countries we’ve traveled. 

Because there are so many food stalls and businesses along the roadside, the owners spray down the red dust with water.  So today, in addition to being covered with dust, we were covered in a red mud that stuck and spotted everything. 

Up until this point, we had not quite figured out our next move.  We wanted to stop in Vientiane for a few days and then hopefully fly with our bikes to Siem Reap, Cambodia.  We checked online in Vang Vieng for online tickets but with one flight/day, they were showing it as being sold-out.  If and when we could get tickets, we still didn’t know whether we could fly with our bikes unboxed.

Four kays outside of Vientiane proper we passed the airport and decided to check it out.  I found some lady selling tickets at something called the Lao-American Individual Enterprise and bought two tickets for the 1^st direct to Siem Reap. 

We continued along the Mekong into downtown Vientiane, stopping for lunch of amazing Indian food before searching for a place to stay.  I was starving and become cranky when not fed.  We tried calling a few interesting looking hotels about availability and rode to one higher-end hotel with availability.  Rob watched the bikes while I walked in.  I could tell by their first impression that there was no way they would let us in.  The ‘open’ room suddenly became ‘we are completely full’ when they took one look at my soot covered body, muddy clothes and dusty bikes.  After seeing myself in the mirror, who could blame them.

We ended up down the road and a bad value guesthouse and made it a point to change hotels for the following night.  On our walk to the tourist office, we passed a bike shop who happened to have 2 bike cartons for us.  We paid them 50,000 kip/box for the peace of mind knowing that our bikes could get on the plane with us.

Dinner tonight was at the expensive l’Opera restaurant at the fountain in town.  We were both craving something other than a variation of chicken, rice and veggies.  I had an amazing pizza with Laotian sausage and Rob enjoyed his lamb pasta.

The next day was spent bumming around Vientiane.  As capitals go, it has a small town feel.  Many caucasion tourists walking around.  I highly recommend the City Inn Vientiane Hotel for a stylish hotel, excellent value and friendly service (once you get the Indian manager to smile),

Day 1 - Nat'l Highway 13 to Vientiane

There’s a difference between a rude awakening and a healthy challenge.  Today was a mix of both.  Our 8:15 departure from the Merry Lao Swiss Guesthouse in Luang Prabang was as smooth as silk. Satiated on a breakfast of fried eggs and French baguettes, we easily navigated the morning traffic away from the Mekong River, past the stadium and onto National Highway 13.  This is the only road running lengthwise north-south down the entirety of Laos.

The weight of my fully-loaded bike, Ganesh II,  concerned me slightly.  For riding in Laos and Cambodia, we converted my Dad’s old blue and yellow Trek 7500 aluminum mountain bike by installing a back rack for 2 panniers, a handle bar bag and some awesome hybrid style Continental tires called TravelContact.  With all my meager belongings stuffed in the panniers, the bike becomes weighted or ‘loaded’ averaging roughly 55 lbs.  Loaded touring is a breed of cycling unto itself.  One in which my only training for this trip amounted to out dated experience and 30 mile road bike rides in San Diego.  It didn’t take me long to recognize my preparations were wholly insufficient for cycling Northern Laos.

Leaving Luang Prabang, there’s a short hill, followed by a series of small undulations paralleling the Nam Khan river.  This lasts for a delightful 24km until the rude awakening appeared out of nowhere.  The road pitches up for what amounted to a 2-hour climb with no respite.  The distance became irrelevant next to the sections of 11, 13 & even 16% grades.  It didn’t take either one of us long to slip into our granny gear and stay there.

I love climbing!

Moving at a snail’s pace gave me ample chance to soak up the surrounding forest and high mountain wooden villages.  Almost the entire road was lined with drying ‘Khem’ grass fronds to make brooms.  For days this appeared to be the primary economic activity of women and children. Starting with the sunrise, they’d slap the frond against the road, roll out the excess ‘dust’ and then place them along the road to dry. 

Also during the rude awakening I noticed a surprising amount of NGO money being funneled into the higher villages for building new homes.  Laos is one of the poorest and ‘least developed’ countries in the world.  But one-by-one the grass shacks were being replaced with small (almost charming) concrete structures.

With an unceremonious ending to the 2-hour slog, Rob and I happily downshifted into our nearly 14km descent complete with hairpins and stunning views.  At 56 km we entered one of the most charming thatched hut villages along the river where we stopped long enough for a swig of water and scarf our baguette sandwiches. I was happy to see refrigeration has finally made its way to these remote areas.

It was here, with a full understanding of what the Laos mountains could deal out, the challenge of the day began – a 23 km climb of 3,000’+.  I tried to distract myself with comparisons to Mt. Ventoux but that actually made me feel worse.  I changed courses mentally and began to soak up all of the saving graces: banana plantations, stilted mountain villages, women nursing, kids running out to high five us and almost sing ‘Sabai Deeeee,’ men with guns, women with machete all of whom were quick to smile.

Our chef - first night in mountains!

I would be glorifying it to call Kiouw KaCham a ‘town’.  It’s a POS stop just after you crest the climb and start your way down.  It consists of 3 restaurant/guesthouses/pottie stops where they advertise clean bathrooms to passerby’s at 10,000 kip a dump.  Rob assured me he had selected the best guesthouse in town.  It rambled through a kitchen, past the caged monkeys and wandering roosters, next to a fire with a big pot of something to a back area of concrete cells with a hard bed, stained blanket, ‘house rules’ about not making sex movies and, outside the door, a squat toilet and a bucket of cold water as a shower.  I can only hope that this will be our all time ‘low’ of the trip.  At the same time, I was quite proud of Rob to be able to endure these conditions.  But then again, we had no options as it was already nearing a beautiful sunset.

Off to ‘bed’.  Thanks Mom for your silk sleeper.  It was a necessity tonight!

The Svelte Look

Logically, we know what to do on the bike.  Put in your base miles a good 3-4 months before the trip.  Next, work on your climbing with standing intervals in a big gear or into a head wind.  Closer to the trip, add at least one 4,000′+ climb/week.  Lastly, make sure you have consecutive days in the saddle (saddle soreness will take down even the best of riders before the climbs do).

There are many variations on a training plan and multiple meters to measure your progress. But the single most effective thing a client can do to prepare for the hills, off the bike, is drop weight.  In many cases, this can be more important than a strict plan of hill repeats.  You’re thin enough you say?

All one needs to do is look at the average weight of the ‘climbers’ on the professional teams.  If you didn’t know they were professional cyclists, you’d think these men were holding an anorexia anonymous convention.  The top 5 climbers on the 2012 Radio Shack – Nissan-Trek team AVERAGE a hefty 63.8 kg!!  That’s 140.4 lbs!!  How many of you men are 140 lbs?  Ok, I know, we don’t get paid to ride a bike.  And weighing in at 140 isn’t exactly the most attractive look on men.

But, if your dream cycling vacation includes riding the Mortirolo, Mt. Ventoux or L’Alpe d’Huez, then one of the least time consuming and effective thing you can do to prepare is drop the weight.

Lastly, do as I say, not as I do.

Typical road traffic - Pyrenees

There it is.  The word is officially out.  Nine years after my first cycling trip to the Ariege there it appears on the world cycling map in the 2012 Tour de France route!

It’s not the first time the Ariege region has featured in a Tour de France.  When it does, however, it usually passes through the obvious places…Foix, the Col de Port, St. Girons.  This time it’s different.  This time the ASO has introduced a little known climb, the Col de Péguère, into Stage 14 of the 2012 Tour de France route.  The Col du Peguere??!!  Most cycling pundits have never heard of it and even locals are unsure of  its whereabouts.

On October 18th, when the 2012 Tour de France route was announced, hundreds of folks critical to the sport drove, flew, trained and swarmed to the Ariege to see what this climb is all about.  On their way to the picturesque mountain hamlet of Massat, they likely followed the river up and past dozens upon dozens of tempting turn-offs for largely undiscovered climbs (e.g. the Col de Rille, Col de Saraille, Col de la Crouzette, Col des Jouels to name a few favorites).    It didn’t take them long to figure out that they were ‘discovering’ a special place for cycling that, until the announcement, remained largely off-the-beaten tourist path.

Most visitors and cyclists to the Pyrenees will focus on the famous passes — the Tourmalet, the Aubisque, the Col d’Aspin and maybe even Hautacam.  But further east, bordering Spain near Andorra, there is a vast network of tertiary roads boasting little known climbs that the local French cyclists (and people in the know) live for.  Being the 5th least populated region in all of France, you understand quickly why there are no cars.

Eventually, those looking for the ‘new’ climb passed through the hamlet of Massat.  From here, they took the well-known Col de Port up to kilometer 6 before scratching their heads, searching their maps and asking locals if the narrow trail to the left is really the turn-off for the new Tour de France climb – the Col de Péguère?

Descending the Peguere

It’s understandable.  I had the same reaction the first time I saw it.  Covered in a thick canopy of wild trees , the Col de Péguère from the 6 km turn-off is 3.5 km of a paved tiny forest road with an increasingly steep vertical pitch.   There’s no room to drive up, no room to pass, no room for a Tour de France publicity caravanne and definitely no room to practice your ‘paper boy’ switchbacks to help you up.  In other words, it’s exactly what you’d expect of a perfect climb in the Ariege.

Ever since that first visit in 2003, I’ve returned every year either with groups or by myself.  It’s my jumping off point for the season in France where an endless day riding can easily slip into weeks.  Life is undoubtedly slow in the Ariege, much like my pedal stroke.  There are no trendy towns or chic resorts. Each unspoiled mountain hamlet boasts at least one B&B, one boulangerie and a coiffure.  Food is mountain hearty and delicious: local fish from the rivers, cassoulet, garden fresh salads and, of course, the duck, duck and…well…duck.

Not much has changed in the heart of the Ariege, Pyrenees in the last 10 years.  In fact, not much has changed since the Cathars were here in the 1200′s.  My French friend in Toulouse calls the Ariege ‘Third World’.  I call it a cycling mountain paradise of infinite proportions.  The Areige is best kept a secret to everyone except serious cyclists.  Let’s hope the  2012 Tour de France doesn’t change that.

Schleck on the Port de Bales

To experience the Ariege first hand on a supported trip with locals, join us for our 2012 Chasing the Tour trip starting on July 13^th.  We’ll be cycling up the Col de Peguere before the pros and taking in many of our other favorite unknown climbs in the region.

Details of the Ariege:

Location.  The Ariege is in the central Pyrenees of the southwest region of France bordering Spain.  It’s the 5th least populated department in France (out of 100).

Getting There.  Part of it’s special charm is its remoteness.  Fly into Toulouse and take the train to Foix or rent a car and drive to St. Girons.

Where to Stay:  You can easily spend 1-2 weeks in the Ariege and never ride the same climb twice.  I like to stay in the heart of the cycling near Massat, Oust, Ax-les-Thermes or the outskirts of Foix.  If you prefer softer, gentler stuff, stay near the town of Mirepoix.

What To Do:  In addition to cycling, there are endless hikes, walks, running trails and farmers markets to explore.

Staying Connected.  Cybercafes are non-existent.  Wifi has reached most of the remote regions and it’s best to bring your own computer/tablet if you want to stay connected.

Guides and Bike Rentals in the Pyrenees:   If you’d love to visit but can’t take our Tour de France bike tour in July, contact us and we can help you with local guides and bike rentals — julie@ridestrongbiketours.com.