FEATURED road

n6 col du mont cenis

I'm glad I didn't take the tunnel.

After spending a large chunk of the day travelling from Dijon to the foot of the Alps on the national motorway network, taking the Frejus Tunnel would have reduced the alpine leg of the journey by hours. We'd already driven through some beautiful French countryside, but I not only wanted to see proper mountains for the first time, but drive over them.

My wife and I had decided to try and stop at one of the villages before the pass began in earnest, but as it was just after the noon hour, no cafes or restaurants were open. We live and learn. And starve.

So we decided to get the mountain crossing over with, and see what the Italians were serving for lunch on the other side. The road leading up to the pass was actually littered with villages and roundabouts, but then things got very green, and after passing through one last town, we very suddenly began to climb...

And climb.
 

The dramatic ascent.
 

After only a couple of minutes of climbing, the views became spectacular and even a little scary; the rate at which the road wound its way up the side of the mountain was incredible. Water from snow and glaciers could be seen trickling down the tree-carpeted slope to one side of us and, well... nothing could immediately be seen on the other. Yeesh...

In fact the initial climb was so steep that our luggage-leaden car was actually struggling a bit; 180-degree hairpins were ruthlessly followed by yet more steep climbing. During those hairpins, anything other than first gear might have stalled us.

Eventually, you get so high up that trees just can't be bothered to grow any more. Grass didn't seem too interested, either. I saw packed snow for the first time in years. Eventually, the road stopped resembling small intestine.
 

Breathtaking. Initially scary.
 

In fact, at two kilometres above sea level, we had stopped climbing and, for the next while, the road really opened up. From my vantage point, it flowed beautifully, swooping up and down, and left and right until it finally curled and disappeared out of sight. It was possible to use the full width of the road in places. Visibility was exceptional, the road dry, and traffic was non-existent.

And just as we get round the summit to the other side: a cafe, right by a lake surround by neighbouring mountains. Lunch with a view—nice. So there we ate, and I breathed the freshest air I have probably breathed in my entire life.
 

Food, fresh alpine air...

... and an unforgettable view.

Hunger sated and admiration for nature suitably bestowed, we began our long descent. Before I continue, I'd like to thank the makers of DOT5 brake fluid. Track days can be hard on the anchors but this... If the Geneva Convention applied to brakes, they'd lock up my ass in the Hague.
 

Descent is spectacular, and massive fun.

Hairpin after hairpin...

... followed by tasty sequences like this...

... and more hairpins. After a long descent, the brakes sound pretty pissed off.
 

Then it's suddenly over. We round our last bend, cease our descent, and end up crawling through an Italian town called Susa. From there, it was on to Turin and the crazy but hugely entertaining Italian Autostrada.

Of all the bits of the journey I can picture vividly, only Col Du Mont Denis remains as crisp as air that passes through its peaks. It's simply stunning.
 

By G Morgan
 

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