The second Alpine crossing was in a completely different category from the first. Splügen had been a proper mountain pass with a real road. The Maritime Alps — between Cuneo and the French Riviera — were something else entirely. The route I had planned looked clean on a map. On the ground it turned into loose scree, steep rocky faces, and sections where no path existed at all.
I ended up carrying the bike. Lifting it section by section, over rocks, up slopes too steep and unstable to ride. The weight of a loaded touring bike in that terrain is difficult to describe — it demands everything from your legs, arms, shoulders, and whatever reserves of stubbornness you have left after a week of cycling.
And then — completely unexpectedly — a mountain lake appeared. High in the cirque, hemmed in by jagged grey peaks, an emerald-green alpine lake sat perfectly still, reflecting the overcast sky. I stopped, dropped the bike, and just laughed. Not because anything was funny. Because sometimes you reach a point of effort where the only response is pure, unfiltered joy. That photo — eyes closed, helmet on, rain jacket, laughing into the cold mountain air — is probably the truest picture of the whole trip.
France was on the other side. One more descent to go.
- Date June 30, 2025
- Max altitude ~2,700 m
- Terrain Scree · No path · Bike carried
- Reward Alpine mountain lake 🏔️
