The time had finally come! Mont Ventoux - which had been on my bike to-do list for ages. I kept having to postpone it - weather, commitments, something always got in the way. But at the beginning of September, the perfect time window opened up: a long weekend and, according to the weather forecast, finally good conditions. By Wednesday evening, it was clear: this was the chance! My heart beat faster while we packed the car, and on Thursday we set off - 700 kilometres towards Bédoin and the long-awaited adventure.
And one thing was clear: if we were going to ride the Mont Ventoux, we had to do it properly! The aim was to master all three tarmac climbs and thus join the ‘Club des Cinglés du Mont Ventoux’. It was a dream that I hadn't let go of for a long time.
Setting off on the adventure
Friday morning, five o'clock. The darkness still enveloped us, the air was cool - and I was wide awake. It was that special moment when everything seems possible. So: get dressed, pack some food, switch on the lights and off we went! On the first stage, the mountain was almost all to ourselves - only two other cyclists had the same goal as us. The climb dragged on, 21.5 kilometres and 1620 metres in altitude, the first few kilometres through dense forest, quiet and full of tension. And then - then the first morning light broke through the trees. At the top, the sunrise lay over us in all its beauty. The wind blew strongly over the last few kilometres, but the feeling of being up here for the first time was simply unique!
We lingered briefly at the top, savouring the moment, before setting off on the descent to Malaucène. The wind whipped against us, the cold crept under our jackets - and yet every bend was a pleasure. Once we reached the bottom, we got our first stamp at the bike shop. Still full of adrenaline, we set off on the second climb: 21.2 kilometres, 1570 metres in altitude. There were now more cyclists on the road and the magic of the early silence had faded, but my motivation continued to grow with every pedal stroke.
The wind only became noticeable here too in the last few kilometres, when the climb became more open. The route from Malaucène may not be the most spectacular in terms of scenery, but every metre of altitude brings you closer to the finish. And when we reached the top, the joy was immense - but we didn't want to rest for long, or at least I didn't ;). The descent to Sault was waiting for us, so we continued without hesitation. The wind also made this descent fresh, but my head was full of anticipation for the finale.
Last climb - almost done!
Once we arrived in Sault, we took our first real break, got our stamp and a fresh sandwich from the bakery. And as we looked around, we spotted the two cyclists who had started with us in Bédoin in the morning - a reunion with like-minded people. The third and final climb was waiting for us. From Sault, the climb is slightly longer (25.8 km), but less steep - ‘only’ 1210 metres in altitude. But my body was tired and the first few kilometres were hard. My stomach struggled with the sandwich and every step felt like an eternity. But I know that I just need longer to digest. So I just had to keep pedaling.
After about 10 kilometres, I found my rhythm again and we picked up the pace for the last few kilometres. The junction was reached - right up to Mont Ventoux, left down to Bédoin. Of course, we tackled the last five kilometres to the summit a second time. With every metre I climbed, I realised that I was actually going to make it. The exhaustion faded as the feeling of happiness rose within me. At the top, we got the next stamp - and then it was off on the descent back to Bédoin. Passing a herd of sheep calmly crossing the road, we drove into the village where the last stamp awaited us. My dream had come true: Welcome to the Club des Cinglés du Mont Ventoux!
Stomach pains, tiredness and my battle with the cold 🙂 were all forgotten. What remained was the feeling of having achieved something big for me. Mont Ventoux has captured my heart and I know that I would come back again.
Bonus: Gorges de la Nesque
The next day the wind was even stronger, but on the Gorges de la Nesque we definitely didn't want to miss out. The route was lonely and wild, the wind raged through every bend, but the landscape was simply stunning. After a few small villages, the road descended gently and the gorge opened up in front of us - a sight I will never forget. The road led us gently downhill and I just rolled along, taking in the beauty of nature. It was one of those moments when you are completely in the here and now.
After a final stop in Malaucène, we got back in the car and began the 700-kilometre journey home. However, my heart remains in France: I will be back - France is a paradise for road cyclists and I still have many adventures ahead of me.