We set off late from a tiny typical village with Julien, Christophe and the “fish” Maxime. These three monsters had worked hard on the map with an interesting feature coming up after only 20 kilometers of rolling hills: the Artzamendi climb, also known as the “Basque Hell”. Think about a double-digit monster climb which allows you to get one of the most spectacular view on the Atlantic Ocean. I stopped thinking when we hit the first bit of this amazing pass. If you stop in the middle of it, walking will be an option to consider if you plan to reach the top !

The pottoks (basque horses) were welcoming us kindly in the ascent and frightened by our brakes noise in the descent. We then crossed the Spanish border following an amazing gravel section to link again the asphalt in France. The rest of the day was just a gentle warm up with rolling hills to head to Christophe’s friends who welcomed us late in the night to camp in a farm building. The tone had been set: Pays Basque promises to be steep as hell !

Believe it or not, I’m not an absolute fan of the Tour. However, the names of infamous climbs have always resonated in my mind since I’ve been riding a bicycle. The Tourmalet pass (2,115m) was the big target of this second warm-up day. After several sleepless nights in Portugal during the BikingMan event, my legs were tired and the spirit was battling to keep up with the energy needed every day.

Approaching the start of the Tourmalet had been quite interesting with numerous superb villages and herd of sheeps on the road. We passed by the enormous Lourdes city that was far from my kid imagination. The fortified Lourdes castle though is still a major architectural masterpiece to be observed by bike.

A crowded corridor from Montgaillard village to Sainte Marie de Campan reminded us of how busy this road would be during the peak season. We started the ascent after a serious refuel next to the official monument dedicated to Eugène Christophe. You can’t really give up on the ascent after reading the epic story of Eugène (pro cyclist) who broke his fork in the Tourmalet descent in 1913 and had to repair it in Sainte Marie de Campan!

There were 17,20 kilometers of pure joy with almost no cars on the road ahead of us. I had to fight in the final kilometers with the acclimatization but the spectacle at the top felt like a miracle. The snow capped mountains of the Pyrenees and a breathtaking sunset awaited us. That final blow of beauty helped us to gather our last bit of energy to survive the freezing temperatures in the downhill to reach Luz Saint Sauveur.

Far away are the days were flat roads existed. The Pyrenees and the Basque country are the perfect terrain for climbers and a potential nightmare for “rouleurs”. Following the advice of the hotel owner of Luz Saint Sauveur, we made some tweaks to follow quiet back roads to reach Larrau village (host of several stages of the Tour). The weather was amazing and mild for the season but we had to push hard on every hill as it would turn into storm in the next days.

The storm is always ahead of you in these moutains and you’d better be prepared for the worse conditions of your whole cycling experience ! Preparation is clearly key to ride self-supported in this region. The climbs are treacherous and insanely steep which make the progression very slow. Pushing hard is a fragile balance between saving energy VS hurting your body (knees, arse, etc). I had decided to spare my energy for the Borderes (1,156m), Soulor (1,474m) and magical Aubisque (1,709m) climbs.

Indeed, these appetizers were just the beginning of something way bigger. A monster was ahead of us: the Labays pass peaking at 1,351m and before that, we had to cross the famous Marie Blanque pass (1,035m). Legs were destroyed by all the climbing of that stage. Thankfully, we had been blessed by a sunny day; it could have turned into a complete hell with heavy rain and wind.

The Labays pass was the ice on the cake of this amazing day. We followed the Gave d’Issaux river and rode across wild dense forests with a peculiar atmosphere. Without a single noise apart from the natural sound of the forest, we climbed into the enchanting surroundings of what felt like a forgotten place, far from the human civilization. By night, that place must be insanely beautiful.

That morning we set off after a solid breakfast towards Bagargi climb. This one needs to be on every climber’s list with a ramp of 5 kilometers at 12,8% average gradient ! I was glad to be riding a 34 teeth cassette but I still had to push hard. The views were gorgeous and I almost forgot how sore my legs were.

We then crossed the beautiful city of Saint-Jean-Pied-de-Port before heading to the Spanish border. Roads started to deteriorate seriously and the landscapes also changed drastically. We stopped early in Lizaso village after an easy afternoon as we were totally unable to find any accommodations in the nearby villages. Late September, it was pretty hard to find any hotel open.

Surprisingly, we ended in a great typical basque hotel with a passionate owner who loved riding his mountain bike around. Tomorrow, the weather was supposed to dramatically change with heavy rain and storm.

It was already raining when we took off. Nowhere to hide, the clouds were everywhere. That kind of day where you know you will “chew rain for hours”. Christophe hated to take off under the rain! Fortunately, he lent me a great rain jacket that would prove to be a game changer under these conditions.

We tried to find hot coffee after 3:30 hours of riding but no places were open. In Spain, shops opening hours are different and they don’t really fit with early bird starts ! The rain soaked everything as we rode towards the Atlantic coast. God welcomed us on the ocean with a breeze blowing all the clouds away and we could finally see the sun. The coast felt like a blessing with our wet clothes and tired eyes. We rolled gently towards San Sebastián to enjoy the local “tapas” and a well deserved glass of red wine.

You haven’t visited the Basque country if you haven’t been riding across a proper storm. That day from San Sebastián was the one for Christophe and I. A yellow alert in France means that you might expect floods and heavy waves in the Atlantic. We climbed the amazing Jaizkibel corniche under a pouring rain. The water drops were literally whipping our faces and we could barely hold the handlebars because of the wind burst. My aero-wheels ended up as the worse choice I could ride in these conditions. With Christophe, we were leaning by 45 degrees to fight against the wind. A surf van passed along and I could witness the young couple inside thinking: “WTF these cyclists are doing here with such a weather !?”.

After that “type 2 fun” climb, we headed to Biarritz and St-jean-de-Luz following the coast and its heavy traffic. Soaked to the bones, we landed in the only restaurant still open and ordered the best meal of this recce. Christophe and I looked at each other and we laughed out loud after this epic moment of camaraderie. The brake pads were sanded to metal and stuck to the disc which I figured afterwards was the reason why I had to power 250 watts on flat roads to keep the bike moving.

The Basque country left its mark on us: it’s definitely one of the most brutal area to ride a bike. It’s steep, relentless and the weather conditions are totally unpredictable: the perfect place to enjoy a bike ride…

A massive thank you to the great support we have received to organize this recce:

• Ortlieb (for the bikepacking bags)
• Christophe Iliou, Julien Marty and Maxime (fastclub café!)

When you set off for a 1,000km super hilly route, catching some good sleep is key. All the veterans arrived from different places (by car or train) and what usually happens on recces happened once again: we were late to take off. With a (very) short night and a strong morning coffee, we set off from Le Cannet village, next to Cannes, and started warming up the spirits on quiet back roads to reach Gourdon and the Caussols’ plateau. This first climb is a section of the IronMan Nice and immediately set the tone for what we were about to experience: it will be steep, there will be a million climbs but every single one of them will be unforgettable.

The first day target was to cross the Alpes-Maritimes and Var regions to reach Gréoux-les-bains, 232 km away from our starting position. Between Le Cannet and Gréoux, we would have to face the Pré-Alpes d’Azur park, the infamous Lachens climb and the dreadful “route des Crêtes” next to the Verdon river. The several “boulangeries” breaks really helped us get into a good friendly pace. No one was attacking, everyone knew the recce “real start” would not be before day 3…

Setting off at dawn during the early days of summer is a magical experience when you love riding bikes. The light is peculiar, the smells of Provence are overwhelming. It almost feels like your brain is turning all the smells into the ingredients in your mouth. When passing along typical Provence wineries, I could almost feel the liquid in my mouth. A recce “at home” is also a good opportunity to explore famous back roads with friends. As we were approaching the Sainte Baume national park, we were joined by Serge, an incredible cyclist who patiently described us the numerous surprises of the day.

Despite the indisputable beauty of the scenery and the villages we were crossing at light speed, the “Giant” was on my mind. Joining one of the legendary climbs of the Tour de France is always something, especially when you’ve never climbed it. The Ventoux haunted me the entire day and I was torn between unlimited excitement and the fear of the unknown. The Sainte Victoire mountain, Aix-en-Provence, the Luberon national park and so much more beauty we saw on the way, galvanized my legs as we reached the camping spot with a direct view on the “Géant de Provence”. That pizza we shared with the BikingMan gang and the media crew will never be forgotten, it’s been an epic night under the stars.

In Bedouin, we found the best bakery before the crowd would gather. Hot coffees and French pastries were on the menu to fuel enough energy to eat the giant. One by one, after finishing our cup, we set off before 8:00 am without a single soul around in the ascent. The Mont Ventoux is a myth but it becomes a reality as you start climbing the mountain. The range of atmospheres between the forest area and its arid summit can’t really be put in words, it’s one of these climbs that stick something to your heart.

We had the mountain for ourselves. Almost no cyclists and only 2 cars passed along. I could enjoy the entire road and zig-zag with joy and excitement. A flashback of the Pantani / Armstrong battle struck me as I reached Chalet Reynard and pushed my heartbeat past 155 bpm. The antenna at the top looks like a human wart on the mountain yet it felt like a relief to see it as the altitude started to be felt at 1,909m. Rows of lavender and vines were our hedges of honor after climbing the giant. My mind was dizzy as we crossed the Provencal Drome towards the Perty climb before a stunning end of the day in the Méouges gorges. The arrival in the Hautes-Alpes marked the moment when we started to fire at each other’s on every hill. We reached Tallard village with sore legs but smiles on our faces.

With 12,000m vertical already in the tank, Southern France region was already “tattooed” on us. The Hautes-Alpes added some spices to the experience. Following part of the Embrunman route, the view on the Serre-Ponçon lake was priceless as we left the Écrins national park with its amazing geology behind us. This part felt like downhill skiing with bikes ! The masterpiece of this recce was just a few kilometers away: La Bonette climb, proudly standing at 2,802m, the highest paved road of Europe.

I had already cycled from Saint-Etienne de Tinée to the summit but never from Jausiers. It felt like “home”, as if I got transported to Peru and its never-ending climbs. 24 kilometers and a vertical total of 1,589m that took everything from me. I rode side by side with Romain Level and the oxygen drop really tricks you well as if you were climbing at 4,000 meters. The reward on top, as we stood in front of the La Bonette official sign, was speechless. An open view on the Alps with unlimited mountain ranges as far as our eyes could see. The sun slowly faded and we peacefully free-wheeled on the long descent to Saint-Etienne de Tinée where a delicious restaurant and camping awaited us.

As we rolled down to Saint-Sauveur sur Tinée, the melancholy that marks the approach of the end of an adventure arose. The course kept bringing more surprises, climbs, gorges and mountains but I could already feel in the veterans’ eyes that we were about to reach the end of this epic ride.

For the drama that the last day brings, it is turning that stage into the “mental Queen stage”. The memories collide in your mind and before you can even say goodbye, you reach the French Riviera and its coastal jewel.

BikingMan France will take place during summer 2021. If you fancy an ultra adventure in France, make sure to connect on the link below to receive all major notifications.

Be prepared, Southern France takes everything from you. The only wish afterwards is to come back again, and again, and again…

A massive thank you to the great support we have received to organize this recce:

• Krono (the official timer of the BikingMan)
• Ortlieb (for the bikepacking bags)
• Roadsurfer (for the media crew luxury van)
• Solosalita for testing their summer kit.

We started riding at 6h35 after eating our early breakfast prepared by the kind owners of our guest house. Getting out from Taubaté, I could already feel the heat on my skin. In January, the temperature in Europe can be freezing. Lucky me, I could be in Brazil at this time of the year, ready to expose my body to temperatures ranging from 16 to 41°C !

A wide and well designed cycling lane got us out from Taubaté in a blink of an eye. The smells of farmlands nearby and the sight of the “Mantiqueira mountain” (the crying mountain), named because of the impressive number of rivers flowing on its slopes, were enough to warm up my legs. Vinicius, who explored thousands of kilometers of Sāo Paulo state and who organizes several Audax brevet, told me the story of the Tupiniquim people who were the local inhabitants of this region back in the 16th century.

Brasil can’t be pictured by foreigners without dreaming of its spectacular Amazon rain forest. Yet, the “Mata Atlântica” (Atlantic Forest) is an ecosystem more dense than the Amazon forest. It is the first environment encountered by the Portuguese explorers 500 years ago. The size, the smells and the atmosphere I discovered, were an unparalleled experience for my European senses. After our first climb, we stopped in the beautiful village of Santo Antônio do Pinhal to taste the famous “pāo de queijo” (bread with cheese) that would become my favorite carry-out food of the journey.

At km 60, we hit the first cobblestone section and it felt like a short Paris-Roubaix experience. We were then surrounded by hundreds of Eucalyptus trees, covering this terrain made of constant Brazilian hills. Sāo Paulo state is ranked second among the main eucalyptus producing states, with more than 2.3 million planted acres. Colorful birds were flying over our heads as we were attacking the never ending hills of the course. It reminded me of a dreadful mixture between Colombian green hills and Portuguese steep ascents of the Algarve mountains. I was literally trying to catch my breath as we were rushing into the first gravel segment on 19/20% gradients. It was a spectacular jungle experience, but brutal. Roots and rocks were fighting over the ground, between two segments of glowing red tracks. Back then, I was thinking it might be paradise of gravel grinding. Quiet “haciendas” of wealthy land owners dotted the green hills and we were often warmly greeted by locals.

The first serious pass of the day, perched at 1.500m altitude brought the thermometer down as we got ready for a long downhill and another long climb up to 1.300m. My 47mm tires (650b wheel-set) were reacting brilliantly on both tarmac and gravel, although Vinicius was definitely faster with his 700c wheels. The following hours were a succession of high highs and some low lows when the rain entered the gravel game we were into. It did help though to clean our faces from the dirt coming from the tires. Surrounded by the fireflies at dusk, we reached a necessary evil: 38 km of flat highway before the village of Igarata. It allowed us to get a good speed momentum, on a large shoulder, and reach our first stop at a lovely and cheap guest house.

The early start was hard. Not because of my sore legs but because Breno had to jump in the media car. His knees were hurting too much, a pain he had been enduring with an incorrect position on the bike, caused by his broken saddle. We kept a high rolling pace with Vini to get away from the highway shoulder and reach the quiet back roads of Guararema. It felt almost like home for Vinicius. He had been organizing several popular Audax brevets starting and finishing from there.

We were then joined by IncaDivide veteran Fred Kastrup, who had planned to ride with us for the next 3 days. With his fresh legs, we smashed our way to Salesópolis by crossing numerous gravel sections and zig-zagging between holes in a heavenly landscape very quiet Brazilian gravel tracks.

Shortly after Salesópolis town, where we had a warm coffee break, we were supposed to follow the “Estradá da Petrobras“; a quiet gravel track which joins the Atlantic coast. I could already feel the breeze of the ocean in my nose. A road patrol stopped us few kilometers away from the start of the track to warn us of a heavy landslide provoked by the recent rains. There was no possibility for us to cross, even by bicycles. In our misfortune, we explored a beautiful alternative forest route (road SP-088) which would join back the main road SP-099. At km 121, a light rain started to fall. We were not particularly tired, but we stopped at Bairro do Cedro village to enjoy one of the best “Açai” smoothie: a Brazilian specialty of frozen mashed fruit of the açaí palm. This is one of the best ultracycling fuel on Earth!

At this point, my front brake pads were already burnt out. The rookie mistake of not controlling my pads, after the Chaskis expedition from last July, was putting me in a dangerous position. I couldn’t use my front brake correctly. Once on the SP-099 asphalt road, we smashed the pedals on a narrow shoulder for 13 kilometers under a pouring rain to reach a quiet gravel road. It was my first proper Brazilian rain experience. My eyes were crying rain drops and I had to take off my sunglasses to zigzag between holes. Soaked to the bones, we decided to call it a day at Pouso Alto village. We were welcomed by a lady, owner of a very nice bakery, who advised us to sleep in the attic of the building. It was the perfect opportunity to use her water hose to wash our bikes, clothes and shoes and dry everything in our improvised hotel.

The rain had stopped overnight. We woke up very early to eat our spare vegetarian hamburger from last night and left at 5:30 am in the first light of the day. Staying at an altitude close to 1.000m for 50 kilometers, this segment has been a miracle ride. We found ourselves immersed on narrow and splendid tracks. In the heart of such dense vegetation, the sounds of the animals were impressive. I didn’t know that back then, but it has been my favorite experience of this Brazilian recon. Our gravel bikes were dancing on the damaged tracks as we were pushing watts on the hilly terrain. The rewards were numerous with splendid views over deep rivers and inhabited valleys where we could see farmers working.

At the corner of road SP-125, we hit back the asphalt for a windy and fast ride to Ubatuba coastal town. Going down the “Serra de Ubatuba” climb was a very bad idea with no front brake ! It took me a long time to realize the burning smell was coming from it. We were still faster than the cars on that ridiculously steep section. The first views over the Atlantic Ocean gave me the feeling of the sailors ashore who had finally reached the port to set sail. Fortunately, I could fix my front brake pad, in one of the numerous Ubatuba bike shops, and decided to carry some spares…

The coastal road BR-101 offered a large shoulder all the way, where we could enjoy some time-trial sessions as a group. The traffic was busier because of the week-end and summer season. Hopefully, it would be way quieter during the official dates of BikingMan Brazil (June). The coastal views were mostly enjoyable on “Ilha do Prumirim” (Prumirim island), famous for its white sand beaches.

The day ended in the coastal city of Paraty, with its beautiful historic center scattered with churches, cobblestones covered streets and many restaurants. We identified the perfect checkpoint location for the BikingMan event, with a lovely guest house just by the entrance of the old town.

At daybreak, my body could hear the monster calling of Brazil’s most difficult climb: Paraty! With a peak altitude of 1.500m, this climb has one dreadful segment of 9km with an 11% average gradient. During our slow ascent, we could hear the cars’ engines yelling afar and observe the abandoned hubcaps on the side of the road. It was hard work on the asphalt part. On the cobblestones one, however, the gradients softened to allow us to pace and recover. At the top, I shivered for the first time and we smashed the long descent until km 36 for our first coffee stop, in a wonderful touristic restaurant with delicious dishes (and desserts). It was providence that we got to refuel seriously as the next series of successive challenges was known to be brutal.

The Paraty pass marked the natural border of the Atlantic forest. We then entered an area with open green hills and not a single meter of flat roads. Our legs devoured percentages all afternoon in a setting that would look like Switzerland, if it wasn’t for the heat! Some ridge roads allowed us to enjoy breathtaking view over the country/continent. Our progress was slow. It felt as if Brazil was absorbing us and we were just exploring a very tiny part of the these lands. The super fast descents on the cobblestones, gave to Vinicius the opportunity to show his ability to brake later than me!

The night ended up winning its war against the day. At km 175, under the dim lighting of our bike lights, Vinicius revealed the last surprise of the day. We turned left on a gravel shortcut which would take us to Resende town. With 4.000m of elevation gain in the bank, we entered into a final fury ride with Vini and smashed that 20 km long gravel segment. Surrounded by a delusional sound background, it was one of my most exciting night gravel experiences. Our stupid decision to burn our thighs to reach our hotel in the evening was a boon because we arrived just before the closing of the last pizzeria in town…

The first 25 kilometers were a fast spin on another highway shoulder. We were electrified by the challenge ahead of us; the highest climb of Brazil: “Garganta do Registro“. After leaving the highway, we slowly started climbing for almost 50km non-stop. My experience of the very long Andean climbs did help to stay patient and not burn energy unnecessarily. At 1.700m, a thin drizzle soaked us completely and we stopped for a few minutes in one of the shops, before the turn to the secret gravel road to the top of the climb.

We pushed until the entrance to Itatiaia National Park with not a single soul around. The mist took over the surrounding jungle and we could hear the vegetation feeding on the humid air. The air became scarcer as the gravel track deteriorated. The view from the summit sign at 2.450m above sea level was a blessing. But we didn’t make any old bones and rode down as fast as we could to reach the sea level and a gigantic restaurant to refuel.

A short 20km highway shoulder allowed us to spin to Cruzeiro town and follow the final short but steep gravel hills away from the main highway. We then cruised the last 5km in town on the same cycling lane we had taken at the start. But this time, we had ridden 980km and climbed 15.500m on one of the most beautiful route I had ever explored. Our stop for the night was at the same guest house and we couldn’t reach the Subway fast-food nearby in time before it closed.

Legs were completely destroyed by the steep hills of the course. I could already say that Brazil had taken my breath away and definitely won its place in the BikingMan series.

#bikingmanBrazil