24
SEP/OCT 2019
25
PLACES|
FRANCE TRAINING CAMP
BY MAYA HOLZMAN
When I first heard about the Linton Horner Training Camp in France, I hesitated. Riding
with my Sunnyside teammate, Anne Linton, and former professional cyclist and 2013
Vuelta a España winner, Chris Horner, in the French Alps sounded incredible, but would
everyday be a competitive hammerfest? Also, could I afford it, even with the very reason-
able cost? I’m still not sure about the latter, but that week in the Alps was indeed a trip of
a lifetime. Everyone rode at their own pace, and it was relaxed and non-judgemental, less
of a formal camp than a group of friends riding bikes, hanging out, and cooking together.
We arrived on a gorgeous sunny day, jetlagged but amazed we were in the Alps, with a
surreal mountain view out the window of our chalet nestled in the Haute-Savoie depart-
ment. (Yes, we were staying in an actual mountain chalet, complete with an indoor pool
and heated boot dryers, which came in handy.) We could see the sun setting over the
valley as we made dinner in the kitchen, serenaded by the ringing bells of sheep herds
coming down from their pastures for the night.
The next day, however, we awoke to clouds and rain. And it didn’t let up. Confession: I
hate riding in the rain. I avoid it whenever possible. But I didn’t come to the Alps with
Linton Horner Coaching to sit inside, and everyone else felt the same. So after enjoy-
ing our breakfast of freshly delivered bread and pastries (the best croissants and pains
au chocolat I’ve ever tasted) into the rain up the Col de la Colombière we went. Riding
directly from the chalet through town, we quickly hit the climb, ascending up through the
mist shrouded mountains to the rocky summit at 1,618 meters (where Julian Alaphilippe
won a stage in 2018).
The next two days featured more of the same (fortunately I didn’t clean my bike), riding
from the chalet up the nearby Col de la Croix Fry and Col des Aravis in the fog and rain,
and then unnervingly descending without much visibility through the mist, with some of
the switchbacks seeming to come out of nowhere. And then the fog would lift to reveal
the mountains as we flew through your quaint, picturesque French towns, passing lush
valleys and even a steep gorge lined by cliffs dripping with water. Just outside of town, the
setting was pastoral, cows and sheep dotting the landscape, with the scenery becoming
more sparse as we broke above the trees. Although we cooked most of our meals at the
chalet to accommodate everyone, we did go out one night to La Fruitière, a restaurant
specializing in “mountain cuisine,” where we indulged in raclette (similar to fondue, except
you scrape the melted cheese) and a local red Rhône wine recommended by our friendly
server.
By day four, the sun came out and we were treated to a gorgeous day along the vivid,
crystal-clear blue waters of Lake Annecy. We all went for a casual spin around the lake,
stopping for coffee, pastries, and lunch at a cafe along a tree lined canal in old town An-
necy. The lake loop truly was spectacular, and it was beautiful riding through small villages
in the rolling countryside. Cycling culture in Europe is amazing. In general, drivers were
polite and respectful of cyclists, and French stereotypes notwithstanding, everyone we
encountered was friendly and humored my attempts at using my high school-level French.
Several other cyclists from around the world recognized Chris and asked for photos. I
had multiple opportunities to practice saying “bonjour” as farmers and villagers greeted
us from the side of the road, although I could never get the intonation quite right as I
struggled for oxygen on some of the climbs.
Then, the ultimate day of the camp: Alpe D’Huez, an iconic climb of the Tour de France.
After driving 2.5 hours to Le Bourg-d’Oisans, we began the climb with what felt like a
wall rising out of the pavement. It was steep, and only let up slightly as we navigated the
21 famous hairpin switchbacks, each named after a Tour de France stage winner. The
views of the snow capped, jagged peaks of the Alps rising above the valley below were
spectacular--as was riding with Chris Horner up that iconic climb. After recharging with
Coke (it really does taste better over there) and Snickers (Chris’ ride food of choice), we
played tourist, visiting bike shops and enjoying the bike culture at the summit, although
it was still slow in mid-June. I highly recommend a lovely English-speaking shop run by a
friendly woman from Sydney, where the mechanic re-aligned my brakes.
The weather began to improve over the next two days as we enjoyed the scenery we had
been missing before, including Mt. Blanc rising in the distance at the summit of the Col
des Saisies and another go at the Col de la Colombière and the Col des Aravis under
blue skies (which were basically in our backyard). This time, I stopped along the way to
admire the views as we climbed up out of the valley and villages fell away, the mountains
looming up ahead with their impressive rocky faces. Wildflowers lined the side of the road.
We were all happy to be riding our bikes in the mountains with the sun shining. The last
climbs were bittersweet; I was happy they were over, but sad they were my last. After
cleaning up our bikes and packing, and witnessing an incredibly ferocious thunderstorm,
we celebrated with a champagne toast at dinner, all of us regretting that we had to leave
the next day.
The entire camp was fantastic, from the freshly baked bread and pastries delivered each
morning to the local routes right from the chalet to the sag support on each ride, not to
mention the accommodations. Everyone could ride how far and how fast they wanted (or
even take a rest day and go shopping), Anne gave coaching advice if asked, and Chris
made a point to ride and chat with all of us at some point, answering our questions and
entertaining us with stories about his years racing. It was truly an incredible week, full of
experiences I’ll not soon forget, and I’m grateful that I was able to experience such an
amazing week in such an awe-inspiring place with new friends.