Mont Ventoux (Bedoin ascent)
- Wheelygood Rating: Hard
- SW Rating:
- Length: 12.5 miles
- Avg. gradient: 8%
- Category: HC
- Strava Segment: https://www.strava.com/segments/7711822
Ever since that fateful day in 2016 when I’d ridden Mont Ventoux all three ways in one go, I’d had some niggles in the back of my mind about the individual ascents themselves, particularly the classic up from Bedoin. The reason was that, following the initial ascent to Malaucene, I’d not really felt 100% and had, if I’m honest, struggled a bit to keep going through a combination of pacing, heat and lack of food. As a result, I’d always wanted to go back and ride the mountain again just to ride myself of those daemons and, in 2019, I got my chance.
Mrs W and I were staying at our favourite spot down in Provence, VeloVentoux, and I’d decided that today would be the day. There was another group staying at the same hotel who were also planning on riding the mountain that day, but their plans were to do the triple ascent so I was expecting to be out and about on my own for this one and would wave as they went past.
It didn’t turn out that way. Now, me, I’d blame the beer, wine and, possibly, lack of sleep, because, despite the guys being up and about at 0530, there was no actual movement in the direction of breakfast. I know this, because there were only a couple of them there when I rolled in about 0800 and they were pulling faces about what they were going to do that day. The Cinglés challenge had dwindled to Malaucene and Bedoin by the time I arrived and had dropped further to just Bedoin during the period I’d been eating. The reason wasn’t the enthusiasm of the two guys who were with me, but rather the lack of awakeness of the other four. Having done the Cinglés challenge myself, I knew how important it was to be away first thing in the morning, if only to get some of the climbing done before the heat of the day catches up with you.
The rest of the other party rolled in eventually and, after some discussion they were unable to form a consensus. In the end, they came along with me: I’d already said that I was going to hit the Bedoin climb that day and had extended the invitation for the other guys to come along if they were up for it. So, just before half past nine in the morning, we all rolled out of the hotel into the days sunshine and went to find out what was what.
I took it really steady around to Bedoin – I had a good idea of what was about to come and didn’t want to waste any energy. On the flipside, I didn’t want to miss the opportunity to warm up, either. Fortunately, the company and the easy pace the guys wanted meant I could tick along and slowly get myself sorted. We even stopped for a photo-op on the Col de Madeleine (no, not that one) is it was the guys’ first Col. Somehow, I became the acting de-facto party leader at this point, which raised an eyebrow from our guide, Ben (I apologised to him later as I’d no intention of acting as usurper!)
We stopped in the square at Bedoin to perform the two most important tasks of the day: decant excess bodily fluids and fill up our water bottles. Not at the same time: there is a public conveniences and public fountain although, somewhat amusingly, they are right next to each other. Probably best not think too much about that,
Aaaaaand … we were away. For 250m. Road works. With traffic lights. Of course!
Aaaaaand … we were away … again! We’d already agreed that we’d ride the climb at our own pace and that, to save us getting chilly at the top, we’d ride down to Malaucene and sit in the sunshine until everyone arrived and it was immediately apparent that I was likely to be first to the top as I rode away from everyone else.
I had a Plan.
The first part of the climb winds its way up through the vineyards at a very easy gradient (a few %) and I knew from experience, and assorted articles on the Internet, that it’s important to keep things steady here lest you ‘blow your doors’ later on. And it’s true – it really is. This, relatively open, steady drag is more than enough to entice you into thinking that the whole experience is going to be relatively easy. Let me dissuade you of that right now. It gets harder from here.
Once you pull up to the small village of Saint-Estève, the real work is about to start. There’s a small ramp on the way in and a 180º turn before the road heads into the forest and immediately kicks up to 10%. And there, ladies and gents, you will stay for the next 10km. Yes, it ‘relents’ in parts to 8%, but it also goes up to 12% too. It’s not the gradient that’s the difficult part of this climb – it’s the fact that it just does not give you any respite all the way to Chalet Reynard. On top of this, you’re riding through a forest and so a lot of insects will want to make friends with you. And, finally, if it’s sunny, then this will now be beating down on your back and the heat has nowhere to escape to as the trees stifle any airflow. The only advice I can give is to pick a steady pace from Saint-Estève and then reduce it just a little bit. If it helps, I’d found myself riding Tempo for most of this section, i.e. something like a 7 to 8 out of 10 effort1. That said, come 2km from Chalet Reynard, things took a turn for the worse when I stood up on the pedals just to stretch out a bit, sat back down and found that 30W had vanished from my effort. The only thing I could do was adapt to the new norm and keep on pedalling, but, from this point, I always felt I was chasing the effort.
Eventually, though, you do come out of the forest and into the ‘civilisation’ that is Chalet Ryenard. It’s not a bad spot to stop for lunch, even if it is a bit ‘touristy’ and you know that the food isn’t necessarily the finest French fayre. When you’re tired and hungry, omelette, frites and a class of coke go down an absolute treat!
On this occasion, I didn’t have time to stop and continued to roll up the mountain. It’s much easier going from here than it was in the forest – it’s amazing the difference that a couple of percent make to your progress. Don’t get me wrong, it’s still hard work, but it’s a lot freer in atmosphere up here – the wide open space means and lower gradient just give you a feeling that you’re achieving something. In the forest you can’t see beyond the next bend and have no idea where you are, really. Mind you, on a tough day, that can be better than looking ahead and seeing the summit apparently fail to get any closer whatsoever despite your best efforts!
In fairness, I didn’t feel all that great by this stage, but, judging from the fact that I was still passing people, I wasn’t doing so badly. There are some very quick riders in the area as I found out when three of them passed me like I was standing still. I let them go…
The last kilometre is a slightly strange experience. You can see the summit and know you’re nearly there. But on the right is the Tommy Simpson memorial, which stands as a reminder that 1km away isn’t the same as being at the top. All you can do is keep on winching. Your heart will break slightly at 507m to go where the sign says that the average gradient between you and the summit is now 12%. This is not what you want to see, but it’s part of the challenge, so it’s time to summon up those last reserves and keep on going. There are also a bunch of professional photographers around here taking shots of everyone riding the mountain so you may find business cards waved in your face or, on occasion, stuffed into your jersey pockets. Not much you can do about it other than accept it as a distraction and keep riding.
And, then, there’s the final bend. This is the one where those shots are taken of the leader of the Tour De France standing on the pedals just before the summit. Enjoy the sting this has in its tail: the very last ramp to the actual top is 20%. It was at this point that both legs decided that they wanted to start cramping really quite badly. This is not good, because you don’t want to stop at the last minute in front of all the other punters. On this occasion, I was able to get away with it, which is just as well as I then had to yell at everyone who was simply standing around blocking the road. My advice: pretend, like I did, to be a short-tempered Italian and gesticulate wildly. This works on everyone, apart from Americans.
Once you’re at the top, soak in the atmosphere for a minute, or two. Get your photo taken and help everyone else take theirs: it’s one of those places where everyone has that same shared sense of achievement so it’s all cool. I’d probably avoid buying anything from the tourist shop at the top – 5€ for a small bottle of water isn’t ideal. Then, duties done, get your gilet on and get out of there – you’ll cool down pretty quickly at the top2 and you’ll get colder still during the half hour descent…
When I was ready to go, I did exactly that and hit the descent. Well, once I’d dodged the tourists walking up the top section.
On the road I was probably one of the quickest things on the mountain at that time. No, I was by no means the quickest of the day, but I chose not to hang around: I’ve done the descent before and know it sufficiently to be able to let it roll, despite the sections at the top which look straight over the crash barriers into thin air. This meant that I caught two Dutch cars on the way down to the ski station. There wasn’t much any of us could do – the cars were going slowly, but the road was too twisty to make a safe pass. Fortunately, they got out of the way at said ski station (at which there is a café which makes the tourist shop at the top look cheap, although the food is pretty reasonable and the views are stunning) and I was able to pick up the pace again.
The descent from this point is much more flowing, with a single exception of a hairpin just at the bottom of steepest ramp on this particular ascent. It’s well signed, so you’re unlikely to miss it on those grounds; the main thing to remember is that it takes longer to slow down from 50mph on a bike than it does in a car! I got into a nice rhythm here and found myself able to safely overtake a Belgian car on the lower slopes with no bother at all before, eventually, finding myself in Malaucene from where I sent Ben, the guide, a message to say whereabouts I’d parked and spent the next 20 minutes sitting in the sun waiting for the rest of the guys to arrive before we headed off for a, very welcome, post ride drink at one of the (many) cafés in Malaucene where tales of epic climbs and derring do were told until, eventually, there was nothing left but for us to all make our way, gently, back to the hotel…
If you ever have the opportunity to ride this climb, then I’d take it, but know that you should also take on the Malaucene ascent too. It has the same overall gradient statistics, but flows very differently and is my personal favourite of the three…
If there are any other road climbs you’d like me to take on, the more ridiculous the better, then please send me a message on my FaceBook page https://www.facebook.com/wheelygoodcycling/ or email me on wheelygoodmail@gmail.com and let me know…
