The region
The mountain resort of Alpe d'Huez lies at an altitude of 1850 metres in the French Northern Alps and has achieved cult status thanks to spectacular events such as the Tour de France (since 1952, the mountain finish after 21 "mythical hairpin bends") and the Megavalanche down from the 3300 metre high Pic Blanc (since 1995).
The tour
The Megavalanche descent starting on the snowfield of the Pic Blanc is only permitted during the race. But in the mountains around Alpe d'Huez, there are plenty of passes and peaks that offer similarly long trail descents. Photographer Dan Milner, Frenchman Fred Horny and former British road racer Kieran Page chose the tarmac Col de Sarenne and Col du Sabot passes, which are accessible by car, as the starting points for their two mega alternatives. The latter can also be reached in summer using the bike park's cable car. However, there are still a few hundred metres of elevation gain to the trail entrances themselves, most of which have to be covered by pushing and carrying. While the Col de Sarenne descent is a challenging natural trail, the Col du Sabot is a bike park descent. However, this trail is very narrow, especially in the upper section, and is often very exposed along the edge of the slope. Only recommended for those with a head for heights and good riding technique. Best snow-free touring time: end of June to beginning of September.
Bike park
Alpe d'Huez has joined forces with the towns of Vaujany, Oz en Oisans and Bourg d'Oisans to create a large bike park, offering one of the largest trail networks (260 km) in the Alps. Nine cable cars and shuttle buses help you uphill, and since 2020 there have been some new trails for beginners. However, the majority of the descents are narrow, more challenging trails. Season: from the beginning of July to the beginning of September, day ticket 18.50 euros. Info: www.alpedhuez.com
Megavalanche - The anniversary race In July 2020, the big enduro event should have taken place for the 25th time. Due to coronavirus, the anniversary race will now take place from 5-11 July 2021. Register under: www.ucc-sportevent.com
No clattering of cable cars and no humming of helicopters. In November, the mountains around Alpe d'Huez are simply silent.
There are many ways to express your fear. If you can still speak, you can simply say: "I'm scared". When things get really bad, you might already be full of trousers. The latter seems to be the case with Kieran Page. Silent and pale, he crouches next to me and clutches the concrete-hard snow field with his feet and one hand. His other hand is clutching his bike. If he had just let go of it when he slipped, it would have slid hundreds of metres down the steep slope. And it would have shot after him like a cannonball. Fred and I also sit down very carefully and wait until the Brit has halfway breathed off the adrenalin. I would also like to say something encouraging, but I don't know what. A glance upwards reveals that we are still a long way from the Col du Couard, and the slope and track remain icy. I try: "The other side of the pass faces south and is definitely snow-free." Kieran finally turns his head. He doesn't speak, but his narrowed eyes say: "You said the same thing last night ..."
Unfortunately, Kieran is right about that. I had promised my two competitors a Megavalanche alternative in Alpe d'Huez - and a gentle one at that. Simply two super long descents in this famous mountain setting, without a mass start, time pressure and a high risk of injury - as is usually the case in the legendary Megavalanche race. As a photographer, I have covered what is perhaps the most intense enduro event in the world several times. But from the safety of a helicopter. Every year, hundreds of bikers dice down the snow field from the 3,300 metre high Pic Blanc at the mass start, ride their elbows out on blocked high mountain trails and try to cut each other off at the bottom in rooty forest serpentines. The fastest riders reach the finish, 2,000 metres below, after just under 40 minutes, but very few make it home unharmed. I would never put my race number on for this spectacle, but the long trail descents have always appealed to me. And when the 25th anniversary race was cancelled last summer due to coronavirus, I knew my time had come.
However, the virus also disrupted my plans. So it wasn't August but November before we travelled to Alpe d'Huez. Which meant closed lifts and significantly shorter days. But at least there was still no snow, as I had been able to find out from the webcams in the weeks before. So nothing should stand in the way of our plan, two days each with a "mega" long trail descent. However, we didn't want to waste too much time riding uphill. That's why we slept in our vans for the first night on the 1999 metre high Col de Sarenne. This left us with only 370 metres of ascent to the Croix de Cassini the next morning. We needed this to thaw out our frozen limbs from the night. Behind it, a view over a sea of peaks and a high mountain trail that met our expectations in terms of steepness, difficulty and challenge awaited us. When we arrived at our hostel in Bourg d'Oisans after 1600 metres of descending, the valley was almost completely dark. But we had our first sunny trail day in the bag. Looking at the map for tomorrow was a mere formality: take the shuttle up to the 2130 metre high Col du Sabot, then a traverse up to the Col du Couard and this long trail back down to the valley via Lac Blanc. It's going to be great! Exactly.
And now this. Just half an hour from the starting point, Kieran is still clawing his way up the steep slope of the Col du Couard. He wants to know whether we'd better turn round again. No way! Downhill, an icy trail like this is even more dangerous. So we continue carefully. In fact, we all make it to the pass and see a blanket of snow on the south side. Damn, we're trapped. We are still 400 metres short of the highest point of the tour, and whether the descent will be free of snow is questionable. But at least the snow on this side of the pass has been thawed by the sun. Our boots sink into it up to our ankles, and the terrain here is not quite as steep - we make progress, even if the snow soon gets deeper. We pass small frozen lakes and even end up pedalling across the completely frozen Lac Blanc, hoping that it will carry us. My heart almost explodes with every crack and my adrenaline rushes to the tips of my hair. Adventurers in the Arctic must feel something like this.
It really is a completely different world to the one we experienced yesterday on the dust-dry Sarenne Pass. It takes us a full five hours to finally reach the highest point of our tour at an altitude of 2700 metres. 100 metres in altitude per hour - what a lousy average. I have also long since given up hope of a particularly fun descent. The first half of the 2000 metres downhill may be icy. There's no way we'll make it down into the valley by nightfall. In fact, our tyres skid down the first few metres over a track in the snow, but they soon grip the muddy alpine floor of a shaped bike park line. As we fly over a wide grassy slope in the golden afternoon light, there is even dust in the berms. At the blue hour, we reach the skeleton of a defoliated beech forest. The tyres lose grip again on the ever-deepening carpet of leaves, but we float along as if on cotton wool. Only every now and then does a root suddenly pop through. When we reach Bourg d'Oisans after more than an hour's descent, I'm exhausted. Not just because of the massive effort on the ascent, but also because of the adrenaline rush. That mega-valley feeling. Only without the mass start, cable car rattling and helicopter whirring above our heads.
