Californication with Espresso

Somehow, the last downhill trail seemed to have done well for the bottom bracket. When I got back on my bike in Saint-Michel-de-Maurienne the next morning, the noises and resistance were gone. Not that the bottom bracket suddenly looked too healthy to me, it was still pretty wobbly. But it seemed to have settled in somehow. Nevertheless, I wanted to solve the problem as soon as possible, and decided to ride the remaining 70 kilometers and 2000 meters of elevation to Briançon in one go. Maybe I could then change the bottom bracket in the evening and use the following, last beautiful day for a day tour before the next bad weather front arrived.

So I started early in the morning to tackle the first climb to Valloire. Another ski resort, but with a more pleasant atmosphere than Les Arcs or Meribel. From there I continued uphill towards Col du Galibier, apparently a very popular destination for road cyclists who overtook me almost continuously. Eventually, I turned left, because my destination was Col des Rochilles. The rough gravel path was almost passable all the way to the top, and after crossing it, I immersed myself in a wonderful panorama of a high alpine lake landscape. Several deep blue shimmering jewels lined up on a plateau, surrounded by rugged rock needles and almost irresistibly tempted me to take a break. The elevation gain was already done, and it was only 2 pm. So I deserved a little bit of pleasure time.

The remaining 30 kilometers led to the next scenic highlight, Val-des-Pres, through untouched nature of sparse Swiss stone pine forests under barren rock peaks. combined with the bright blue sky, I felt like I had landed in the Sierra Nevada in California instead of the Alps. I would have loved to stay at the campsite at the top of the valley for the night, but my annoying bottom bracket thwarted my plans.

Rolling through a series of small, remote villages, I still had plenty of time to enjoy the scenery until eventually my campsite appeared just before Briançon. After a quick check-in, it was 4:30 p.m., and I had 2.5 hours left to solve the problem. Part one was easy - pick up the new bottom bracket at the tobacconist. Immediately afterwards, I continued with part two - visiting the bike shops. And of course, it happened as it had to - every mechanic complained about how much work they had and that they could not deal with my problem for at least a few days. I had a bad feeling about it. But one of the workshops referred me to an acquaintance who I should try. When I arrived there, it turned out that it was only a rental place. But the acquaintance finally understood my problem and the urgency. Not only did he call a mechanic two villages away, but he also took me there with my bike. I was so grateful to my savior in distress. It actually worked - at 6:30 p.m., out of goodwill, with some connections and after business hours, my bottom bracket was replaced. And the work on the bike ultimately only took 10 minutes. Totally exhausted but happy, I rolled back to my campsite.

The next morning, I could tackle Montgenevre - a small ski resort on the border with Italy at an elevation of 2000 meters. So to speak, the Kühtai of the Western Alps. From there, I started my day tour to the lakes of the seven colors. If I had already gotten a taste of California the day before, today I was completely overwhelmed by it. A dry and dusty high plain, surrounded by mighty peaks, and interspersed with sparse forests and azure blue lakes. I could only explain why this landscape was so different from what I had cycled through in Switzerland in the past weeks due to the Mediterranean influence. Accordingly, the trail down to Claviere on the Italian side was flowy like in California. Only the espresso and the many Peugeots and Fiats in the village grounded me again and made me realize where I actually was.