On the Trail of the Tour

That day is remembered for many reasons. Pantani’s look is legendary, half yellow (glasses frame, shoes, tyres, saddle) and half blue (headband, tape on the handlebars). Adriano De Zan’s commentary features some of his most famous lines: “Pantani has gapped them all;” “Gentlemen, when this lad attacks, there’s nothing you can do;” “If the weather had been better the TV director could have shown us pictures of Ullrich’s dramatic struggles and Pantani’s great victory.”

There are almost no images of the final climb to Les Deux Alpes. Pantani is in the leading group with Massi, Rinero, Serrano, and Escartin, while Ullrich punctures in the chasing group. From the very first hairpin bends, the riders in the breakaway group gradually fall by the wayside, one by one. The front shots of the finish, blurred by rain and car headlights, could be a scene from Blade Runner. You can hardly see the finish line, which is an even greater incentive to go and see these ‘two Alps’ for ourselves.

So one evening in August, after re-watching that stage of the ‘98 Tour for the thirtieth time, we set off towards Les Deux Alpes. It’s not that far from the Italian border: about an hour and a half from Cesana Torinese. It’s called the ‘two Alps’ because it is a plateau overlooking both Mont-de-Lans (the north side, the only paved part) and Vénosc (the south side along the Vénéon River). Centuries ago, when snow made it impossible to get to the summit of Les Deux Alpes all year round, both villages called their side ‘l’Alpe’: so, in a sense, there were two Alps.

When we arrive at La Belle Etoile hotel, Michel, Enrica, and Marco welcome us with open arms. It is thanks to them that the hotel is the perfect base for a two-day stay, but that is not all: while Erica and Michel take care of managing the hotel, Marco prepares mind-blowing desserts for the guests. After showing us the rooms and the pool, Michel tells us all about the history of Les Deux Alpes: “Once, people here were so poor they had to emigrate. Then the hydroelectric plants were built.”

Nowadays it is a really lively mountain town, offering the best of both a small town and an Alpine village. “In Italy, Les Deux Alpes is mainly known for summer skiing: you can come and ski on the glacier right until early July. But we are very close to Mount Galibier and Alpe d’Huez, so we are in the middle of a cycling paradise,” Enrica assures us. Venetian and by no means a mountain fanatic, she felt drawn to the family-like atmosphere she experienced the first time she set foot in La Belle Etoile: “I first fell in love with this hotel and then with everything else. Now I’m going to say something weird, but it seemed to have its own soul.”

One of the things that make Les Deux Alpes unique, according to Enrica, who was granted French citizenship and served as a town councillor, is the cable car that is open almost all day. It runs on the south side, over by Vénosc, and was completed in 1974 to transport goods. It is now open every day until 8 p.m., and even later on Thursdays. It is part of the social fabric of these places: they call it the ‘elevator between the valleys’ and it is viewed as a normal means of public transport, so it costs very little. On a Saturday morning on a cool summer’s day, we take the cable car down the mountain so we can ride around the Oisans.

Everything here is called d’Oisans because it is the name of the canton, as they call it. The Oisans is a collection of six valleys, named after the streams that flow through them. They all flow into Bourg d’Oisans, as we do on our bikes. It is a well-known name among cyclists as the starting point of one of cycling’s legendary climbs: Alpe d’Huez. A signature climb of the Tour de France, you should ride it at least once in your life, but without any great expectations: the road itself is nothing extraordinary. There are no more panoramic views after the first few kilometres up the climb as the road enters a forest, leaving you alone with the asphalt staring back at you. For a very short distance, it seems like you can get a clear view of Bourg d’Oisans public swimming baths: is it just a mirage? The official name of the first part of the road, is ominous: Route de Basset et de Vieille Morte.

The higher you go, the more likely you will hear the chirping of crickets along the roadside. Each switchback is named after someone who won up here, but there have been so many Tour finishes here that, for example, turn 21 has two patron saints (as a figure of speech): Lance Armstrong and Fausto Coppi. On the last of the iron posts, along the road, with cycling-related quotes on them, there is one from Jens Voigt that fits us perfectly: “Just shut up, legs! You are supposed to do what I tell you to do!”

It takes a little while to get out of the inhabited part of Alpe d’Huez, but it’s worth it. The last thing you see is a small farm, which looks like it just popped out of a film set in New Mexico, and that’s it. We are heading towards Alpe d’Huez’s panoramic, traffic-free and distinctly barren twin: Col de Sarenne. The Tour de France has only come through here once (in 2013, when Tejay Van Garderen reached the summit first, although Christophe Riblon went on to win the stage after the second ascent up Alpe d’Huez), but the road surface looks like it has been left untouched for decades.

This is what makes this alpine desert so intriguing. The high-rise buildings of Alpe d’Huez seem like a distant memory. There is just a very simple little hut with an array of different umbrellas fluttering in the garden: one of the very few signs of human life in Sarenne. The descent to Lake Chambon is one of the most beautiful roads you could ever ride, with incredible views across mountains over 3,000 meters high.

To break up the descent into two sections, so your legs don’t get too cold, we advise taking a short detour (3 km at an average of 9%) towards Besse, a small but delightful village in Écrins National Park. On certain days, it is teeming with all kinds of mountain lovers, as well as people taking a break for a snack after physical activity, happy to be together.

After riding through the small village of Mizoën and past Chambon Dam (the tallest in Europe when it was completed, about 90 years ago), the day’s last big effort begins, the most satisfying of all: the ride back to La Belle Etoile in Les Deux Alpes. We take it slowly, enjoying the views of the lake and villages nestling between the valleys. Definitely manageable in all weather conditions with its 6.4% average gradient – it even has a lane for cyclists.

Half way up, near the village of Mont-de-Lans, we smile when we see the name of Chasal Lento Museum (‘lento’ is Italian for ‘slow’, translator’s note) makes us smile: there is nothing ‘slower’ than us at this moment. Inside the museum, there are photographs taken when Lake Chambon was still forming, and you can clearly see the villages it submerged.

Back at the hotel, we let La Belle Etoile take care of our tired and overheated bodies. The pool and plenty of food, to help us recuperate after a day of hard riding, are exactly what we need. We explain to Enrica that we have decided to ‘go big’ the next day: a bike ride where you set off early in the morning and return late in the evening. “No problem, we are very flexible with our breakfast times, perhaps even overflexible,” she tells us with a smile.

She was true to her word. The same routine as the day before: a hearty breakfast, cable car descent to Vénosc, and legs warmed up along the Romanche. Our goal for this second day is ambitious: to ride Pantani’s stage, tackling, one after the other, the Croix de Fer - Galibier - Les Deux Alpes. We get lucky right away: as we ride along the pleasant bike path to Allemond we run into Loïc Gouveia, a seventeen-year-old from the Luxembourg national team, who is out training. It feels great riding in his slipstream, but when the road steepens we have to say goodbye and let him go.

The Croix de Fer is a very long climb, not very alpine with a varying gradient and a number of very steep parts. It also has several flat sections: the first, near the little village of La Rivière, has a crêperie with a delicious aroma coming from it. So, we sprint over to find out whether the sugary crêpes are as tasty as they smell.

At La Belle Etoile they had told us that the Oisans community is quite unique. So it is hardly surprising to find writing on the road up to the Croix de Fer about the village of La Bérarde, the highest place in the Vénosc valley that was half destroyed by a flood in July 2024. The climb is quite wonderful from Grand’Maison Dam onwards. At that point, at an altitude of around 1,700 metres, the trees thin out, small waterfalls keep appearing, and the thing you see most are cyclists. Lots of them overtake us and we overtake or cross paths with some of them. A detour towards Col du Glandon, the equivalent of the Umbrail pass for the Stelvio, gives us the chance to really enjoy the pleasure of cycling in a natural amphitheatre of trickling streams, woods, distant lakes, and scree slopes.

The descent to Saint-Jean-de-Maurienne and ride down the valley to Saint-Michel should not be underestimated. There is, indeed, an altitude loss of almost 1,500 meters but the road is never really flat and, above all, it feels endless. It is over 40 kilometers from Croix de Fer pass to the start of the Telegraphe, and the road is not as easy as you think.

As a prelude to the Galibier, the Telegraphe is sheer hell, rather like Alpe d’Huez. You are always in the forest with nothing to do except count down the kilometers as they slowly pass by. We stuff our faces at the mountain refuge at the summit and plan to digest it all on the roughly four-kilometre descent to Valloire. That is where the Galibier really begins, a climb whose name alone sends chills down your spine.

In a small field alongside a right-hand bend near the village of Les Granges, there is a monument to that attack by Pantani. It is hard not to get a lump in your throat, feelings accentuated by the beauty and silence around every bend. The finish is indescribable: you just have to experience it. We began climbing the Télégraphe (it is basically one single ascent) 30 kilometers ago, so we are exhausted, and our last handful of fizzy Haribo sweets are not going to replenish our dwindling energy reserves. We get the energy boost we need from everything around us: we ride in complete awe from an altitude of 2,400 meters right up to the summit (2,642 according to the sign).

The descent to Lautaret and Lake Chambon is also extremely long, but after the first few kilometers the road is wide and you hardly even need to touch the brakes. After 4,000 meters of elevation gain, we try to keep our legs moving as best we can as we climb back up towards Les Deux Alpes: we joke about the fact that the chairlift from Mont-de-Lans to Les Deux Alpes would come in handy if it were open.

Uncertain as to whether we have fully processed everything we have seen, at the end of an epic day we talk about it with Michel, the owner of La Belle Etoile. After dinner he recommends other climbs in the area, just as scenic but much less famous, such as Villard-Notre-Dame and Oulles. At a certain point, we interrupt him and take out our phones: we need to find a free weekend next month to come back.