Day 5: Valloire → Briancon

Despite a poor sleep from anticipation, I woke before dawn in Valloire, determined and a little nervous. The Col du Galibier had been on my mind for years – one of the most iconic climbs in cycling lore. At first light, I rolled through Valloire’s quiet main street and almost immediately hit the base of the climb. The Col du Galibier looms 18 km ahead, ascending from 1,430 m to a dizzying 2,642 m at an average gradient of 6.9%. A roadside sign reminded me of the task: “Col du Galibier – Ouvert” indicating the pass was open (it’s closed by snow in other seasons). I began spinning my pedals in the cool morning air, the road rising gently at first through alpine meadows.

As I climbed higher, the sheer scale of the Galibier became apparent. The gradient ramped up beyond the hamlet of Plan Lachat, hovering around 8–9% for the final 8 kilometers. Each switchback unveiled a more dramatic view – sawtooth peaks glowing in the morning sun and the valley floor dropping away beneath me. Early Tour de France riders once cursed this pass; in 1911, the first year it was included, cyclist Émile Georget, the only rider to summit without walking, called the organizers “bandits” for daring to take the race over this monster. Today, alone on the mountain, I felt a kinship with those early riders as I battled the same unforgiving slopes. My breath came in gasps at the high altitude, and I had to will myself through the last kilometer – a final sting averaging 9%. At last, I reached the top of Col du Galibier, 2,642 m above sea level. A small cluster of cyclists cheered one another and posed by the summit sign. I joined them, exhilarated. The panorama was beyond words: jagged granite and ice as far as the eye could see. From the summit, you have a magnificent view of the Grand Galibier, the Pic Blanc du Galibier, the glaciers of La Meije and, on a clear day, Mont Blanc to the north. It felt like standing on the spine of the world.

After bundling up for the cold, I plunged down the Galibier’s south side. The descent to the Col du Lautaret (2,058 m) was thrilling – long sweepers and stunning vistas of La Meije’s glaciers shimmering in the sun. Gravity did the work that had taken me hours in reverse. I continued descending along the Guisane Valley, and by early afternoon I rolled into Briançon, brakes hot from continuous use. Briançon, at 1,326 m, is one of Europe’s highest towns and is encircled by Vauban’s imposing 17th-century fortifications. It felt like re-entering civilization after the high alpine wilderness. I found a small hotel within the fortified old town. The afternoon was spent resting my legs at a café, sipping espresso with a view of the mountains I had conquered. Day 5 was short in kilometers but immense in achievement – climbing Col du Galibier was a dream turned reality. As I drifted to sleep, I knew that more legendary climbs awaited tomorrow, but having stood atop Galibier gave me newfound confidence for the challenges ahead.