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The full write up.
We left on Saturday, and me being the furthest away meant I had a 4 am start to meet up with most of the others and catch the EuroTunnel. Weather both sides of the Channel was a little damp and misty but that eventually burned off some way into France. Unfortunately, after a 90 minute motorway slog into France, we had our first incident. One of our riders, a commercial pilot who let’s just say is a lot closer to retirement than the rest of us, misjudged his entry into motorway turn off, target fixated and ran off the road. He wasn’t really travelling when he left the road, and fortunately both he and the bike stopped flipping a couple of yards short of a metal sign.
He was understandably shaken up but to his credit got back on. Got back on after we repaired his Triumph Sprint… There was damage to both front fairings, and also the gear lever sheared off. With the help of parachute cord and a cable tie we were back under way. However, the youngest member of our group then dropped his Fazer. Just 5 minutes after getting underway after the accident he went into a small roundabout too hot and bailed into an earlier exit, and dropped his bike on top of him while turning around. No real damage though and we were off again, but 10 minutes later, coming through a toll, the Triumph Spring just died.
We (and when I say we I mean the sole mechanically minded one of us) soon had the seat off, battery disconnected and the fuel tank off too. We figured it was the alarm and immobiliser playing up after the crash. We isolated the alarm and repositioned it outside the bike, taped to the tank, where the key fob appeared to disengage it.
By the time we got into Chaumont the mood was a mixture of happiness that we were all still running and gloom that the day hadn’t been full of the events we’d hoped for. To cap it all, the other Triumph rider (Tiger Explorer) lost the key to his top box which contained all his electronics – SLR, MacBook and a chicken sandwich. A hunt for locksmiths in Chaumont revealed nothing other than incredibly helpful people. So, when faced with such adversity, we did what every normal British male would do – hit the town hard. I managed to bail at midnight but the younger chaps wandered in at 2.30 am. Sore heads the next day…
With the Sprint still running we headed off to Chamonix on day two, figuring that we could get some metal epoxy to firm up the botch job on the gear lever. Within an hour though we had our first (and only) brush with the law. I was caught filtering past three cars at a set of traffic lights, just catching up with the main group. The two local gendarmes seemed genuinely disappointed that I had all my paperwork in order but were equally delighted to give me a lesson in how filtering is illegal in France, and fined me €90 for the privilege.
That said, it was a good day’s riding, albeit not too challenging, but a really sharp thunderstorm 15 miles away from Chamonix had us diving for cover. The crash victim was also starting to feel the pain and so we split up into two groups. The route into Chamonix was pretty good fun, and the town itself is good fun. We all caught up and got there in the end, and met up with a fun group of riders from Croatia whilst out for dinner. Croatian girls in bike leathers are hot, whiskey in Chamonix is very expensive. That’s all you’re getting.
Day three, and some tension was starting to get into the group. Three of them were related and, coincidentally, the same three also have the most electronic gear with them – mainly GoPros and SENA intercoms. Every simple stop was turning into a 20 minute stop just to get things working again before moving on. It was frustrating for the rest of us, and frustrating for one of the three who planned the whole trip and felt responsible for the enjoyment of the whole group.
At least in the morning we got the locks on the Explorer’s to box drilled out, and the gear lever on the other Triumph repaired to a much better standard. But a couple of the riders just wanted to get to Ulrichen (right by the Furka Pass) for our next overnight stop, and we arrived at 4 pm. Most seemed satisfied at that, but me and one other wanted to take advantage of the good weather so we checked in and went straight back out with the bikes finally clear of luggage. We wanted to find somewhere to do some decent filming, and in doing so ended up going over the Furka Pass and back. Despite a fair amount of melt water the roads were in good condition and we had a real blast and returned to the hotel in near darkness. This didn’t improve the mood of those who had decided to stay at the hotel, but we manned up as a group and had a decent meal.
Day four was bitter sweet. We’d already rode past the entry to Grimsel Pass and seen it was closed, so as a group we rode over the Furka Pass. The part of the group that stayed in the hotel the previous afternoon were late up and slow to get going, and the rest of us had to wait an hour for them at the summit. Still, we met some great bikers while we were waiting, not least a French chap called Mattieu who had decided to cycle around the Alps for four months, towing a trailer with all his camping gear on. He was such a nice chap – he stopped and spoke to us for 20 minutes. He had taken four hours to cycle up the mountain – a journey that had taken us no more than 15 minutes.
Once we were all back together we descended the other side of Furka and stopped for lunch. Then we tackled Saint Gottard’s Pass, and tried to go through the old pass but it was still closed, as was another one (I forget them name – sounds like Neurofen). We stopped off at the ice lake and then the late group decided they wanted to go back. It was 3 pm.
Undeterred, two of us carried on and did Oberalp pass. We really enjoyed this – not at all technically challenging and one of the shorter, lower passes but the roads were in the best condition we’d encountered and it was great, albeit short. We did a few film shots along the way and then just sat at the top to do a few timelapse videos. While we did, a couple of military jets were hooning around and twice broke the sound barrier. That explosion of sound echoed around the mountains for a good 30 seconds. After that we headed back over Furka Pass, and really attacked it this time around. I’m normally much stronger going up but still make a few errors and had a couple of ‘oh **** this is it’ moments. Going down the back half though, we were both on form and had an immense ride back down to the valley. Buoyed by the adrenaline of that, we then did a drag race in the tunnel before the hotel.
I’d like to say that things continued to get better from that point onwards, but day five turned sour. One of our group (the chap that accompanied me on the extra rides) wasn’t coming back with us, and he departed for Italy. The rest of us had to ride from Ulrichen to Epinal, and our luck ran right out. The weather was so bad that we had to stop a few times as we just couldn’t see. Constant thunder and lightning, and a torrential downpour saw our original route through Jura scrapped and just ride down the motorways instead. However, that was to be our downfall. The visibility was terrible – traffic was down to 40 mph most of the time – and 65 miles away from our hotel in Epinal the motorway was closed due to an accident. The rain stopped, and the temperature swiftly rose, and at this point the Triumph Sprint, already patched up on this tour, just gave up. Something electrical – we still don’t know what – but it refused to start. At this point I’m sad to say that the group pretty much emotionally split, with two of us heading on the Epinal once we knew that the remaining three could be safely recovered. We spent two hours on the motorway trying to get the Triumph running and to arrange rescue recovery.
Eventually we arrived in Epinal still soaking wet and managed to find somewhere to eat. The three we left behind were recovered and booked in elsewhere – at Mullhouse, where the breakdown happened. I can’t really fault the Triumph though – it is 11 years and 33,000 miles old, and was crashed on the first day of the tour – I’m surprised it lasted this long. We were not going to be reunited this time though, and the last two of us (the three stayed together to be recovered as one) decided that on day six we’d just motorway all the way back to Calais, and get home. Great weather but boring roads, we stopped in Eperney on the way back and bought some champagne for the wife / girlfriend. By the time I got back into Ipswich it was 12 hours in the saddle for the last day.
It was a real challenge, for some more than others, and the group wasn’t tight enough, but there were some real positives from the trip, and I’m glad that I’ve finally seen at least a small part of the Swiss Alps.
My summary on the Alpine roads we did get to ride? The views are unbeatable – right up there with trips (non-biking) I’ve done to Norway and Iceland. Simply fantastic.
The roads – very good roads, but the surfaces are mixed. Some are really poor – not poorly maintained but not as smooth as I’d been led to believe. The ascent of Furka Pass from the Andermatt side is pretty mediocre, but they are slowly improving it. On that note, there are roadworks everywhere.
Am I glad I went? Of course – the Alps are iconic as are the roads that link them. Would I consider going again? Yes – there are so many more roads that we didn’t have time for or weren’t open. Will I go again? Yes, but I won’t be rushing back now that I’ve had a taste. They’re a pain to get to and even when you’re careful and selective, Switzerland is very expensive compared to other European countries. One day, for sure, but not for a few years when I’ve seen a bit more of the rest of Europe.
A final word on the XR: simply built for rides like this. 1850 miles in 6 days, it didn’t skip a beat. Comfortable on the long haul and perfect for the Alpine roads. 48 mpg for the tour, and an average speed of 63 kph. On a 10 hour day the quickshifter makes all the difference.
Good luck to all those off to the Alps in 2017. Hopefully we’ve used up all the bad luck, and you will certainly have memories of a ride you’ll never forget.
Looking down the Furka Pass by Greg Kingston, on Flickr
Oberalpass by Greg Kingston, on Flickr
Lago della Piazza by Greg Kingston, on Flickr
Saint Gottard Pass by Greg Kingston, on Flickr
Everyone together on Furka Pass by Greg Kingston, on Flickr
Furka Pass with Grimsel Pass on the right by Greg Kingston, on Flickr
Waterfall on Furka Pass by Greg Kingston, on Flickr
Descending the Furka Pass by Greg Kingston, on Flickr
