Riding in the “amateur’s Tour de France” — and living to tell the tale
Like the Grand Tours for professional cyclists, one race holds an almost mythical status for amateurs: The Haute Route Alps. After almost a year of specific training and preparations, I was all set to ride in the 2023 edition. Then French authorities confirmed an additional challenge for this Norwegian: A historical heatwave was underway… Could I still do it?
A seven-day stage race, the Haute Route Alps is widely regarded as the world’s premier amateur road cycling race, according to the Financial Times. The magazine Cycling Weekly has called it the nearest thing to the Tour de France an amateur cyclist can do.
7 days. 755 km. Starting in the ski resort of Megève, crossing over into Italy, and finishing on the beach in Nice. On the way, climbing 20,100 meters of elevation — equal to 2.3 times from sea level to the top of Mount Everest.
You may know it from the Oscar-winning 2017 Netflix documentary “Icarus”, which chronicles an attempt to win the Haute Route Alps using performance-enhancing drugs — instead uncovering a major international doping scandal involving the head of the Russian anti-doping laboratory.
The event also occasionally features ex-professionals or semi-professionals. Unlike the full pros, the top amateurs typically train on the side of demanding jobs. The top rider in 2023 was an unassuming Italian software development engineer. Many work in law, finance and tech.
The Haute Route is open to anyone who wants to ride it — like me — and can complete each day within the time limit. The lanterne rouge of the race will typically spend almost twice the amount of time as the front group. In many ways, I find these riders to be more impressive than the fastest.
Myself, I did not expect to compete anywhere near the top, but I had an ambition to keep or improve my result from the Haute Route Pyrenees: Top 33%, or better. Most important, of course, was just staying safe.
Read more about my cycling background here.
Reaching new heights
The slogan for Haute Route is “Reach new heights”, and it is an appropriate one, as the races mainly focus on big cols (French for “mountain pass”).
The 2023 route included bucket-list climbs from Le Tour such as Alpe d’Huez, Col du Galibier and Col de l’Izoard — as well as lesser-known giants such as Col d’Agnel, culminating at 2.744 meters above sea-level, and the highest international pass of the Alps.
It has been my dream to ride this race for years. But after completing several shorter versions of the Haute Route — in the Dolomites, Mont Ventoux and Pyrenees — I have also hesitated because I knew that the seven-day version is big mountain to climb, both literally and figuratively.
Few understand this better than the legendary mountaineer Reinhold Messner: “By climbing mountains we were not learning how big we were. We were finding out how breakable, how weak and how full of fear we are.”
Mountains are known for inspiring a duality of awe and fear.
On the one hand, being in the mountains can be uplifting. Aldous Huxley drew a parallel to churchgoing. Building on that analogy, visiting the Alps — the highest and most extensive mountain range that is entirely in Europe — should be comparable to visiting cathedral or even the Vatican itself.
On the other hand, people have for centuries had an ambivalent attitude towards mountains. The Alps were often a source of fear and mystery, as an uncharted and dangerous wilderness, even with dragons and ogres prowling their summits, as described by Stephen O’Shea in his travelogue.
I’ve never seen any ogres on my bike, but will never forget the experience of climbing Tre Cime de Lavaredo in the Dolomites, in 2019. Humbling. When at the foot of a big col, your inner demons may also come out…
Some riders assume I am used to towering mountains, coming from Norway, but truth is most Norwegians live on the coast, at sea level, as do I. The climbs in this race go higher than even our highest peak (2469 meters).
What the Haute Route Alps does so uniquely is to give amateurs the rare opportunity to ride many of the world’s most famous climbs as well as long, point-to-point stages, moving from town to town as a proper stage race.
This year’s race featured riders from 42 countries on nearly all continents. What they get is an unparalleled “pro level” support system both on and off the bike, with professional mechanics from Mavic, French Gendarme security, as well as post-ride meals and daily massages. This helps a lot.
But it is still a tough one. This is not the type of mass event where you can hide in the peloton. There is no way to just draft your way up a big col. Either you conquer the mountain, or the mountain conquers you.
The first part of any race is getting to the start line, in the best general condition possible and with equipment intact.
Stage 0: Preparations
At least I had done what I could to prepare in terms of training. Raising the volume of training further was never an option: Due to family and work commitments, my training volume is capped at around 12 hours per week — or 600 hours per year. This may seem like a lot to some non-cyclists, but it is just two thirds of what top amateurs do, and about half of many pros.
So, with my training volume pretty fixed, I had to focus on adjusting and increasing the quality. And I decided to work with a coaching team from 101percent.training (Jonas Orset and Jofre Prunera) who I knew could help me get the best out of my strengths and weaknesses — always with a focus on “positive training”, i.e. ensuring a good life balance also off the bike.
Over the past year, we have worked on increasing my aerobic capacity, with quite a bit of work below threshold. We have also worked to increase my power, and done some anaerobic efforts to simulate race situations.
Throughout this process, I have carried out independent fitness tests at sFit in Oslo in December 2022 and August 2023 respectively. In the period, we were able to document a 7.5% increase in power (watts per kilo), a 6.2% increase in VO2max (ml/kg/min), and a 3.3% increase in lactate threshold. Still far from the top in fixed terms, but continuous improvement for me.
As the race approached, I noticed that a heatwave was incoming. The week would later turn out to include the hottest day ever recorded in France since 1947 for the second half of August. But we just had to deal with it. I did not have any extra time for acclimation. Clearly, stepping up hydration and nutrition was key, as well as applying liberal amounts of sunscreen.
Stage 1: The one with Col de Romme (1300m), Col de la Colombiere (1600m) and Col des Aravis (1500m)
The race started with a beautiful and neutralized roll-out from Megeve, for a nice loop with Mont Blanc views.
The first climb of any event is always a bit “excited”. All riders have trained to peak on exactly this day, and at this moment — they have saved their legs and are roaring to go. And sure enough, we saw an explosion of effort. I also got excited and went too hard at first. Then I had to remind myself that this is a seven-day race. I just had to find my place and find my pace.
After around 100 kilometers and 2400 meters of climbing, concluding with Col des Aravis (featured more than 40 times in the Tour de France) we finish back in Megeve. After stage 1, I was ranking #73 out of 378 riders.
Day 2: The one with Col du Glandon (1900m) and Alpe d’Huez (1900m) via Villard-Reculas
The next day looked to be an epic one. Starting in Megeve, going over the Col du Glandon and ending in the famous Alpe d‘’Huez.
Although we started in decent temperatures, the heatwave soon made its mark, taking the heat towards 35C+ degrees. The Glandon was a serious one in its own right, and even the “balcony road” side of the Alpe was no slouch. This day, I felt I was starting to get the body working as I wanted.
After around 150 kilometers and 3500 meters of climbing, we arrived in Alpe d’Huez, where we would spend the night at almost 1900 meters altitude. After this day, I ranked #74 out of 378.
Stage 3: The one with Col de Sarenne (2000m) and Alpe d’Huez (1900m).
The main event on the third stage was clearly the classic ascent of iconic Alpe d‘Huez climb with its 21 legendary switchbacks. But for me, this is a vastly overrated one. It was Col de Sarenne that really stood out, with the impressive and beautiful hydropower plant at the Barrage du Chambon.
With another day of 35C degrees, I do not know how I forgot my bottles at the foot of the Alpe d’Huez — which was more or less boiling. But that’s what I did. Some water from a feed station saved my day, and maybe my week.
After 100 kilometers and 3000 meters of climbing, I ranked #70 out of 378.
Stage 4: The one with Col de la Croix de Fer (2100m), the Telegraphe (1600m) and Col du Galibier (2600m)
The fourth day was clearly the Queen stage of this year’s Haute Route Alps. This day, we faced both the renowned Col de la Croix de Fer and the Télégraphe, and that was before Col du Galibier (a 35 kilometer long climb).
Despite the challenge, my body seemed to work fine, at least until I reached 2000 meters of altitude in 30C+ degrees on the Galibier. The last 600 meters of climbing (much of it at 8%) I mainly remember as pain.
It was at this point I started thinking that the big mountains really put us humans into perspective. But I finished, now ranking #67 out of 378, after another 150 kilometers and more than 4000 meters of climbing.
Stage 5: Individual Time Trial (ITT) up Col du Granon (2400m)
The fifth day is jokingly called the “rest day” because it “only” features an individual time trial — this year from Serre Chevalier Briançon to the top of the Col du Granon, a climb with more than 9% average gradient.
This is where Jonas Vingegaard famously beat Tadej Pogacar, taking over the yellow jersey of the 2022 Tour de France. A historic moment of racing.
Our time trial took place in 35C, despite forecasts promising cooler temperatures. Having decided to wear all-black for the day, it felt more like a funeral for my legs. With no power to increase my intensity, I got a weak result on the day, but kept #70 out of 378 in the general classification.
Day 6: The one with Col d’Izoard (2400m) and Col d’Agnel (2700m)
After a shorter day, it was time for another long stage, going from France and into Italy. The Alpine region is a multicultural one, and it is incredible to see and feel the difference as one crosses from one area to the next. One of my favorite areas on the planet.
With temperatures starting around 15C, it was quite pleasant to climb Col d’Izoard, also a famous one after 36 appearances in Le Tour. But Col d’Agnel was probably the highlight of the week for me — the third-highest paved road in the Alps, featured in both Le Tour and the Giro. A beaut.
After around 150 kilometers and 3000 meters of climbing, we finally arrived in the Italian city of Cuneo in the south-west of Piedmont, now down to around 500 meters of altitude. My ranking climbed to #69 of 378.
After this penultimate stage, we knew there was just one more to go…
Stage 7: The one with Col de Brouis (900m) and Col de Braus (1000m) and a sprint finish up to Chateau de Nice
A few weeks before the start of the race, we had received notice that the length of stage 7 had been reduced due to prefectoral traffic restrictions on the Col de Tende, which was originally on our route. It was undergoing extensive renovation work following the damage caused by storms.
This left us with a relatively punchy final stage, including two shorter climbs and a sprint finish in Nice. Thus, I knew intensity would be high.
To be honest, I did not have the legs for racing, and I did not want to take any risks on sketchy timed descents. So, I lost quite a bit of time. But it was just enough to protect my result: Ending as #68 of 378, and within the top 18%. A small step for mankind, but a giant leap for this man.
Most importantly, I made it to the finish line. Only 298 out of the 378 did, with drop-offs for various reasons (fatigue, illness, injuries, tech issues, etc). Anyone completing the Haute Route Alps has my respect.
What we do on the bike may be the most important, but this race really also teaches us that what we do off the bike is important: Hydration. Nutrition. And recovery. If you do this right, you can get stronger day by day.
All in all, I did around 34 hours of riding throughout the race, with a daily calorie burn of 5–6000 (Whoop estimate). The same monitor estimated a daily sleep need of around 10 hours, out of which I got only 5–6 hours. This is one of my biggest learning points: How to sleep more between stages?
My resting heart rate increased from around 40 in a rested state normally to 60 by mid-week, returning to around 50 by the end of the week. HRV (heart rate variability) saw a similar trend, falling towards mid-week and increasing towards normal levels by the end of the week. My theory is that I did in fact achieve some acclimation after a few days of racing.
What I really take away from the race are three things:
First, the incredible level of the top amateur riders, so many of them much faster than I am. My time gap to the front was 4 hours and 19 minutes for the full week: An ocean of time. Not surprising, but incredible to see!
Second, the international nature of the peloton. It is very inspiring to ride among people from all over the world, and even the top 10 includes eight different nationalities, on three different continents. This is a global sport. And it was a pleasure to get to know old and new friends as we traveled from stage to stage together, experiencing each other’s ups and downs.
Third, the strong level of the female riders. There are always specific categories in Haute Route for the different genders, but this event also saw two females in the overall top 10. I only got second best from Scandinavia, far behind a very strong young woman from Denmark.
So, does any of this matter? No, and yes.
No, of course it does not matter. It’s just a mediocre result from a middle-aged man in a stupid amateur bike race. Get over it.
But, yes, it also does matter, because these are the kinds of experiences we live for, isn’t it?
You may of course dislike riding a bike, I get it. Maybe you are more into something else, like music, literature, stamps, fishing, gardening or abstract ballet — I don’t know. But I do believe that having fun is important.
This year I’ve seen people close to me die suddenly. Life is pretty precious. And I have seen people retire from work, but without being in a physical condition to really take advantage of their newfound freedom.
That is why I find amateur activities to be great outlets, providing a useful balance. As the proverb goes:
All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.
All play and no work makes Jack a mere toy.
What is your next adventure?
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Thanks to Haute Route for putting on these amazing events. Thanks to Alpcycles for helping with all non-bike stuff. Thanks France Bike Rentals for the awesome Pinarello Dogma F12. Thanks 101percent.training for getting me as prepared as I could be. Thanks wife and kids for tolerating it. Thanks work colleagues for stepping in and up. Thanks Oslo Dawn Patrol for keeping my cycling fire burning every week. Many photos: Sportograf. Realize your dreams while you can ♥️
