Corsican climbs and scary chasms

Corsica is a magical place for those cyclists who love a climbing challenge. It also offers some heart-stopping descents where it’s wise to keep your wits about you – rather than gaze into the cavernous gorges just inches from the road. Regular Arrivée contributor Paul Harrison kept a cool head in his adopted home as early summer merged with the remnants of winter to offer some spectacular rides…

IT’S MID-APRIL and wall-to-wall sunshine, but it’s a nice cool start for the ascent from Lama to Pietralba and then over Santa Maria. My wife Janet and I are off on an adventure – it’s our intention to ride the Asco Gorges to Haut Asco, a mission impossible in the winter snow.

A short burst on the busy N197, which can be scary at times, leads to a right turn on to the D47. This is quiet as it’s too early for the tourist season, but it’s late enough for the ice to be gone on the higher reaches. There’s a long, flat, straight stretch, then the road goes over a bridge, narrows, and starts to twist and climb.

After 20 miles of riding we arrive in the village of Asco, go to the only café that’s open and sit outside with our coffees. Soon the café opposite opens and we suspect they’ve seen us and don’t want to lose any more trade to the competition.

Two more customers arrive and there is much photographing of the old horse with a moustache standing in the road with his companion donkey. The donkey puts his head into a plant pot and starts munching. Luckily, it’s only the weeds he’s interested in.

We discuss the lack of snow with the proprietor and wonder if there will be enough to melt and feed the springs and rivers which Corsica relies upon for its water supply. He assures us that lack of drinking water is no cause for concern as they’ve got plenty of wine to drink. He goes on to say that in 1934 they had 2.2 metres of snow in the village. I don’t think he’s old enough to remember it.

We continue climbing in the sunlight and it’s about as warm as a good summer’s day in England – just perfect. Occasionally passing in the shade of cliffs or under the trees, I am reminded of just how cold it was in the winter. The road goes over a bridge which, if it were in Britain, would be

closed for “health and safety” reasons.

The traffic is very light and, wanting the idyllic peace of the mountains to myself (my wife is well ahead of me), I find myself resenting the occasional vehicles that pass. A motorbike roars by and I imagine he must feel superior to the poor toiling cyclist. But his leathers, helmet and engine noise isolate him from the environment. No sun on bare arms and legs for him, no sounds of birdsong nor the rush of the river.

The gradient is getting more serious. I have a George Longstaff bike with “Per Angusta Ad Augusta” on the head badge.

This means “through difficulties to honours”. This Latin inscription is probably an affectionate twist on the motto of the Royal Air Force “Per Ardua ad Astra” – roughly translated as “through adversity to the stars”. What sense of achievement is there in reaching the summit by merely twisting a throttle? But I confess I might consider an electric bike in my dotage.

The way gets steeper and what seemed like perfect weather now feels too hot. Fortunately, as we approach the snowline, the temperature drops and the last two hairpins are not so steep. Then suddenly, at 29 miles, we’re at the end of this cul-de-sac road.

There are bits of my body hurting that I didn’t even know I had, but I soon recover sitting in the sun eating my sandwiches. The Alpine-like scenery and temperature is an amazing contrast to the Mediterranean environment below. We’re at the ski station and I’m glad to have made it without having to resort to my bottom gear – the ratio of which is too embarrassingly low to reveal in the pages of this august journal.

Descending in a delirious headlong rush through the warm air, it takes some will power (and braking power) to stop and peer into the river gorge far below. The gorge is on the right-hand side of the road now, and much easier to see than on the ascent. The temptation is to look at it as you ride, though this is not recommended as it could result in a much closer view than intended. We are exhilarated by our ride and so add a loop into the hills via Moltefao and Castifao, thus avoiding the main road we did on the way out.

Finally, there’s our second climb back over Santa Maria on the return leg to Lama. It’s 472 metres and this is the total of our Ordre des Cols Durs (OCD) claim for the day, since “a member may claim any individual col or summit only once in one riding day”.

Haut Asco at 1,420m is only 57 metres lower than the Col de Vergio, the highest pass in Corsica, but is not claimable because “a mountain top must be a summit, like Mont Ventoux, not just a high point like Alpe d’Huez”. I do love quoting the OCD rules, and quite right they are too, but it does seem strange having such a small claim after a day out like that.

A couple of days later, we decide to do the Restonica gorges, again a cul-de-sac and thus proving that not all my cycloclimbing is simply in pursuit of OCD claims. On the ascent, I’m finding it hard and have to use that low bottom gear. I’m wondering if I’m ill or something and take a rest. Janet catches me and immediately starts the conversation with “I had to use bottom gear – I wonder if I’m ill or something?” This is a relief to me as I know it’s got to be pretty steep if even Janet is finding it hard – she’s very fit.

Later, I have a conversation with an old cyclist who is descending. He’s as brown as a nut and wearing a big hiking jacket. I notice he’s on a Dahon bike. Now Dahon have made some good bikes in the past, but this one looks like the sort of thing an old lady might use to do her shopping.

“You must have had to walk”, I say. “Oh no, I rode”, he replies. I look at him questioningly. “Rode in a car”, he explains, “it’s a folding bike, so I fold it and thumb a lift to the top.” This leads to some revised thinking on my part about possible power assisted futures. “You are very crafty”, I say, he replies “Yes, crafty as a fox. I have a

head like a fox. I don’t pay any taxes”.

Back in the virtual world, with internet and all that, I do some calculations. Haut Asco (from the first bridge) is 23km long and climbs 1,075m to 1,420m, an average gradient 1 in 21. Restonica is 15km long and climbs 940m to 1,370m, average gradient 1 in 16. No wonder it was tough compared to the Asco.