Riding Up Col d'Agnel and Col d'Izoard
(Part III)

What I mistook to be Col d’Izoard was, in fact, Casse desserte. From here, the full magnificence of the Izoard climb was revealed in all its wide-open, breathtaking glory. The whole landscape had an eerie reddish tint to it. Here and there stood rock spires that recalled the sandstone "hoodoos" of Bryce Canyon in Utah. Or a Martian landscape, I don’t know which.

(Above: Along the casse desserte, looking towards summit of Col D'Izoard)

(Above and Below: More views of the casse desserte area)

Staring me in the fact was the last uphill stretch of road that clung to the side of a vertiginous cliff, against a gaping chasm created by a river far, far below. Sandy moraines, the only evidence left by last winter’s snow, provided chilling proof of how steep the mountain faces are.

The intervening downhill beteween Casse desserte and the summit, though short, was one for the ages. Soon, I was grunting again, though somewhat wired. I made my final push for the summit.

Less than a kilometer past Casse desserte was a memorial to Fausto Coppi on the cliff side of the road. The Coppi tribute, the newly asphalted smooth road, the open scenery, the bluest of the blue skies, and the approaching summit gave me a boost.

(Above: The memorial to Fausto Coppi and Louison Bobet at le casse deserte)

I picked up the pace and actually wished(!) that the road would go on climbing in this paradise-like setting for much longer.

(Below: The summit just around the corner...)

Extremely satisfied, I summited the Col d’Izoard after a final, left hairpin turn.

(Below: Nearing the summit of Col d'Izoard from the south side)

There is a Tour de France museum at the summit (it was closed when I got there) and a gift/snack shop. There were also a number of hiking footpaths that emanate from the summit area. I chatted with (another) French cyclist who had gone up from the Briançon side and we compared notes about the climb.

(Above: Summit war memorial(?) at Col D'Izoard)

It would have been difficult to surpass the scenery on the south side, and the northside descent confirmed this. Sure, a lot of the north side was pretty, and, because it was newly paved (in preparation for the Tour), was smooth. But a lot of the road was under tree cover and quite narrow. The first half of the descent was quite twisty, steep, and technical. This section of the descent took up most of my attention as a I met a lot of motor traffic.

(Above and Below: The long descent to Briançon begins...)

Once past the hairpins, from St. Michel, the road paralleled the course of the Cerveyrette and some pretty gorge scenery. As I recall, it was around here that Pavel Tonkov, towed by Lanfranchi, managed to rejoin Garzelli and Co. on their way to Briançon on that pivotal stage of the Giro (the stage was deservedly won by Lanfranchi).

I reached the outer limits of Briançon. After a few more kilometers of very steep drops, I pulled into the town center, slumped on a chair, looked up to salute the sun still high up on its perch, then ordered an ice-cold bottle of Coca Cola.

Fini.

Last Updated: January 23, 2001