Graham packed his kit and headed to the forgotten corner of the French alps to ride bikes.

“The Chinese word for crisis is the same as opportunity”  

It’s not, but when did journalism ever let a good story get in the way of the truth? It’s also a very handy way of summing up this trip. For a lot of the last two years anyone who’s worked in tourism has repeatedly and suddenly found themselves with a lot more spare time on their hands than they’d expected. 

You could do a lot with that unexpectedly acquired time, but if you’re a MTB guide, you’re going to find a way to write it off as ‘continuous professional development’.  

Or ‘going riding new trails’ if you want to sound less pretentious. 

Hence earlier in the summer Emily Horridge, the soon to be masters DH world champ and MTB guide, got a group of us headed down to the Queyras for a few days of trail hunting.... 

The Queyras? Don’t worry, most folk have that reaction. Possibly the least known regional natural park in France, the Queyras is a mythical place where the food is cheap, the sun shines 300+ days a year and the trails are the flowy golden perfection of magazine covers. Nestled away in the Hautes Alpes between the Italian border and the small mountain city of Briancon. As one of the last areas of France to open up to tourism it has remained relatively untouched by the ski area development that covers most of the French Alps.  

Like our pop culture Chinese mis-translation of crisis, this is a double edged sword. Whilst you can be confident of seeing more marmots than people on the trails, it does also mean there’s not much mechanical help with the uphills.  

Sure enough, we started the trip with an hour or so of pedalling from the Col d'Izoard. It wasn’t much of a hardship. Letting the legs stretch after the long journey south from the well populated northern Alps, the late afternoon light made a beautiful mountain range look even better, and the temperatures were about as perfect for climbing as it gets. Soon we were overlooking a mountain lake, staring towards distant mountains that framed a sinuous snake of singletrack, all bathed in perfect evening light. 

And discussing how best to photograph it. Which usually involves riding the same bit of trail several times over to get footage from umpteen angles whilst whoever's riding finds new ways to nearly fall over on each attempt. 

Shooting done we could enjoy the long descent of flow through the forest, and move on to the carpark that would be home for the night. Of course, the Queyras has a wide selection of gites, guest houses and hotels eager to provide you with overnight accommodation. Alas another flipside of suddenly having more free time to search for trails is not getting paid, so a tent at the side of a forestry road provided the 5 star accommodation for this trip. Rather more than 5 star, with so little light pollution the night skies are something special in the Queyras, it’s all about seeing the opportunity in life. 

Sun comes up, time to ride bikes again. 

We pedal through the ever so slightly odd village of Abries, and up tarmac then gravel towards the morning's objective. I say 'slightly' odd, ‘very’ might be better. For reasons none of us felt like exploring, Abries had decided to populate the sleepy streets with assorted straw-stuffed mannequins performing the mundane tasks of everyday life. Whatever gets you through the lockdowns.  

Every metre pedalled was a metre away from the village and towards our trail however. A lovely thing of a trail too. Starting up by a meandering river, swooping along serenely next to it, in and out of copses of trees and meadows of alpine flower. Round a mellow unsighted corner, into an obligatory gap jump drop over sharp spiky shale. 

Yes, it was a decidedly unexpected change in character and possibly explains some of the  mannequins. Either way, it was an opportunity to stop and have a good play, then continue on past churches and yet more flow. A reminder that alpine trails almost always have a some sort of surprise waiting for you. 

The morning's trail was about checking a variation of a previously ridden trail, the afternoon was about checking out a promising looking line Emily had seen on the map. Without the shuttles you have when guiding it was going to be a bit of a pedal, but how bad could it be really.... 

Up some road, then gravel road, then 4x4, we should be able to pedal all the way to the top. And we could, but it was definitely a bit more than any of us accounted for. Talk soon turned to trail snacks, peanut M&M's and Bombay mix. All our food was long eaten. 

No matter, the views were great and we traversed happily round from the top of the climb to the start of the descent. What did matter was the trail had washed away. A work around was found, and what a surprise, it was flowy. 

It then stayed flowy. From open top, into thin, then thicker, trees. Snaking straights with sick hairpins. Seen just enough traffic to have a bike line worn in, but no danger of brake bumps. Banger all the way to end. Best trail I've ridden in a long time. 

We got back to the van under cloudy skies and destroyed every unattended salted crisp, peanut and beer bottle in the van. Then I got in the river and washed. There’s a lot to be said for hotels... 

Another morning and blue sky again. 

We were going for another explore, another look into the unknown. After yesterdays unknown we stocked up on stoke, food and drink. That mistake wasn't being repeated. 

The climb was hot and sweaty, 1200m of up in the middle of the afternoon so you can be up high in time for golden hour is only ever going to be hot and sweaty, but with some picture perfect hamlets to stop in and some stunning cols to admire the views from, it could have been a lot worse. 

Even better, the climb to the 2500m summit that looked pretty marginal on the map turned out to be one of the most ridable bits of the ascent. A rewarding bench cut track working its way round corners that kept revealing more views and more interest. The reccy bit of riding is where it's at. What's over the next ridge? The joy of exploring that got so many of us on bikes as kids.  

No matter how fun a climb, 2545m high is 2545m high. A semi derelict observatory post was a fun distraction, but we all needed the rejuvenating powers of cheap sugar-and-e-number-laced sweets to get us ready for the descent..  

And what a descent. Bit loose up high on the grey rock but fun. Contouring round the hill in-between hairpins. From the Col de Fromage a brief traverse drops into a Queyras classic trail that’s anything but cheesy. Maybe a few too many rocks on the trail to truly call it flow, but plenty of fast straights and just supportive enough corners. 

Turning off over a bridge and the trail changes character. Less angle but still just enough that you pump more than pedal. A lot more than pedal. A beautiful swooping balcon trail through stunning woods with lush grassy forest floor. A briefest of shower from the clouds that had been building all afternoon didn't ruin the mood, just improved the light and the dirt. Sunlight dappled through the trees with beautiful rain drops. 

Can you tell we liked it? 

All this and it ended back in the village, 10m from the ice cream selling gite. Result. 

We packed up the van and headed on out and up. 

Camped nearly at the top of the Col Agnel, we were poised to get as early a start as possible whilst still getting out of bed as late as we could. Despite our cunning plan to maximise our rest, the air at nearly 2700m is pretty chilly and a bit thin so we were all a bit tired and grumpy by the morning. We grumpily and tiredly pedalled up the last of the road towards Italy, then pushed up and over bog, path and snow to the Col Vieux and the view from the col.  

Those views helped lift the mood, as did having reached there way ahead of schedule and the arrival of the light. Probably just as well as we then had a fair bit of snow to negotiate, but hey, it was downhill snow at least 

Trails in the mountains always have a surprise somewhere, and with about 1300m to descend, there was plenty of opportunity to surprise. Even once we'd left the high alpine and settled into what felt like familiar Queyras flowy territory the trail turned into a cobbled highway. Not one of your nice flat cobbled highways, a wall to wall w.t.f. of rounded stones at all angles and heights. Pick a line and stay loose. Another all time classic trail. 

We cruised back into Abries where we'd left my car days before and headed for morning crepes, only the cafe was closed, so coffee it is and on to the next village for a crisis adverting boulangerie  lunch. 

Ok, not getting crepes for our last food of the trip is maybe just a little trivial to call a crisis, but it nicely keeps the analogy running to the end. The trip might not have been conceived under the best of circumstances, but if the opportunity to ride in the Queyras presents itself, it’s worth grabbing it with both hands and making the most of it. 

If long flowy descents (with the occasional surprise...) in little known and little frequented hills is what you’re into then you should definitely be checking out the Queyras, and if these trails in particular grab your attention, then who better than https://emilyhorridgemtb.com/ to show you.

By Graham Pinkerton
Although hailing from Scotland, Graham has been settled in the alps for many years now. When he is not out doing silly mountain adventures on ski's you can find him digging new trails in the Chamonix area, or riding his bike down some exposed, tech, gnarly alpine terrain. Besides the talent to find epic trails, he also possesses the magic ability to write about a wide range of subjects, and somehow make them related to mountain biking.

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