Warm up ride from Blignou

We leave our little rented Chalet - Chez Lupin ( review ), which is an old traditional stone building with a wooden veranda looking across at mountains capped with snow and turn up the hill. It’s a steep wake up call for legs and lungs but we are puzzled by the sound but not sight of rushing water. We cycle over a large grate in the road and there it is, mountain water rushing beneath us. Soon the stream is in the open, next to the road, racing downhill clear and cold. We continue up past some new houses and the word ‘Wow’ is forever leaving our lips as we gaze up, around and into the distance. The mountains are playing peek-a-boo so every glance is a different view.

The wows turn to puffs as we continue up and my lungs protest at the lack of preparation. My legs are fine, but we stop and rest on a bend. What a view. Everywhere has a view when you are over 1000m in altitude in the swiss Alps. It’s warm so I take off a layer, exposing my midriff for a moment. Maybe not the best idea on a steep bend, but no one passes us and I don’t cause an accident.

Onwards and upwards stopping to wow , take photos and breathe a little slower as we zigzag our way through villages with their rows of swiss chalets, one covered in hanging baskets like a vertical garden. We are surprised at the vegetables and flowers growing at this height, cabbages, sunflowers, cosmos, tomatoes, apple trees, pumpkins and lots I cannot remember the names of.

The road levels for a moment and then we are travelling downhill. It is either up or down on an alpine ride.

A tiny dark red squirrel races across the road in front of us, leaping sideways to escape our wheels and again to avoid a car that decides to overtake us. It moves so fast and races into the trees without a scratch. Phew, almost taken out by a squirrel.

The roads dissolves into gravel, but it's firm and quite smooth.

‘Even the gravel tracks in Switzerland are neat and tidy,’ Martin says.

I hear more rushing water and look down into the trees missing a deer that crosses the track a little further on.

‘It was here,’ Martin says as I catch up. We peer down the valley but nothing is moving. We continue down and the fresh pine scented air melts any tightness in our muscles away. I yawn and sigh. This is beautiful.

The phone directs us left to a steep grassy bank. We ignore it and carry on, but soon we turn back down a steep track, past the bottom of the grassy bank, past a few houses and onto a broken but proper road, winding through the trees and the ever present sound of gushing water. We go around another steep, tight bend and drops of water land on my arms. Cool and welcoming, I look around thinking it is from a waterfall, but no. The drops are large and coming from a small cloud above us. We leave it behind and stop at a bench to admire the view. I take a video and a panoramic photo, playing with the effects, but nothing compares with what our eyes can see. I put a layer back on as downhill is not as hot as uphill and we continue down, the switchback nature of the road takes us back under the cloud, still shedding a few large gentle raindrops.

We leave it behind again and reach a junction. We can turn right, back to the village or turn left and visit a small lake.

Left it is. The steep sides and twisting road gives the impression we are still travelling downhill, but we are pedalling.

‘Even gravity works different here,’ Martin says and we grin at the thought. It’s an optical illusion until we near a bridge and freewheel a little way onto it. We stop to look down into a deep ravine, water sparkles at the bottom and tiny birds flit below us between the silvery raindrops. We’ve found the cloud again.

Over the bridge and up before turning off the road and cycling into a forest. I stop to admire a waterfall and Martin rides by. He is looking down at Bissé de Lens a small lake below us.

‘I’m stopping to take a photo,’ I say, and he turns perplexed, the view of the lake is not that good. I point up at the narrow tall waterfall behind me and he laughs. He was so used to hearing gushing streams he’d not expected a waterfall.

We turn down to the small lake, it’s a hydro dam and the water is turquoise, but it doesn't smell fresh. We leave, returning to the main road, back across the bridge, and yes the cloud is still there. The crack in the rocks is deep and dark, and taking a photo doesn’t do it justice so we continue on through the village and back up to our rented home.

A short ride, but a wonderful taste of what this region has in store for us.

We settle our bikes in their room, climb the spiral stairs and look out of the window. The mountain is showing her snowy face and we use a telescope to get a closer look.

Fantastic start to our holiday.

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Warm up ride from Blignou

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