Finding Dauphiné Liberation with Bardet and Flecha

Juan Antonio Flecha has spent his retirement rediscovering a love for the bike through bikepacking and ultra-distance efforts. His current mode is all about exploration, discovery and keeping the chain tight like only a former pro can. Romain Bardet only stepped away from the WorldTour last year, choosing to say goodbye on his home roads at the race he always loved the most: the Critérium du Dauphiné. And while he isn’t in the professional peloton anymore, he hasn't exactly killed off those competitive urges; these days, he’s tearing around the sharp end of the world’s biggest gravel races.

But if you suggest an alpine bikepacking trip that culminates in watching a mountain stage of the Dauphiné, the definitive warm-up for the Tour de France, you won’t find two people more eager to sign up.

Riding roads they used to rip around in the peloton provides a unique perspective. Over twenty combined appearances at the Tour de France and dozens of starts at the Dauphiné mean these mountain passes are steeped in personal history. What started out as a trip to follow the race quickly turned into a fast ride down memory lane. Pushing one another on the slopes of the Galibier, it didn’t take long for the old instincts to kick in, digging deep just like the old days.

Like so many iconic events, the Dauphiné Libéré was originally created by a local newspaper looking to boost its circulation across the Auvergne-Rhône-Alpes region. That regional focus gave the race its defining character: a brutal, week-long stage race packed with high peaks and beautiful alpine foothills.

For Romain, who grew up in Brioude, not far from the Dauphiné’s heartlands, the race always felt deeply personal.

"The Critérium du Dauphiné has always been my favourite stage race of the year," Bardet says. "It was really racing in its purest form. All the architecture of the Tour de France was there without the irrational aspects of one of the biggest events on the planet."

Because of its mid-June slot on the calendar, the race became the ultimate dress rehearsal for July. Its winner's list is a who’s who of cycling royalty: Anquetil, Merckx, Hinault, Induráin. Five-time Tour champions who all tuned up by winning the yellow jersey with that distinctive blue band.

"At the Dauphiné, I knew that if I was good enough in the mountains, that would provide me with a very good GC position," Romain recalls. "So, for me, it was easier to manage my expectations around that race. That part of the Alps, they were also always the stages nearest to where I live, where I've ridden for so many years. We used to go from west to east into the Alps, so I always had my family on the side of the road."

Recently, the event rebranded to the Tour Auvergne-Rhône-Alpes, extending its route deeper into the Massif Central, but to us, it will always be the Dauphiné, and watching it from the roadside at the end of a bikepacking trip is a calmer and less logistically challenging feat than watching the Tour.

"It was so good to be back bikepacking," Romain says. "You also don't have to be road-side three or four hours early like you would for the Tour de France. They just close the road about an hour before, so you can chill. It always feels quite natural."

A diversion towards the high peaks was always on the cards. A clear late spring day offered the perfect conditions: the air cool and crisp, the sun warm but not stifling, and plenty of snow still sitting on the ridges to frame those platonic alpine vistas. A route was plotted toward the Col du Galibier. It was a big ask for what was meant to be a bikepacking trip, standing as one of the highest paved roads in the entirety of the Alps, but Romain’s eagerness to crest it was obvious.

"The Col du Galibier is the giant of the Alps and one of my favorite climbs," Romain explains. "I used to do a lot of altitude training camps at the Col du Lautaret, which sits at 2,000 meters right at the base of the final eight-kilometer turn-off to the Galibier summit. During camps, it was my little escape if I wanted to extend a ride, or even somewhere I'd hike on rest days."

If you are inspired to head over this summer and tackle the high passes yourself, here are Romain and Juan Antonio’s personal recommendations, recollections and warnings for the best climbs in France.

Riding Mont Ventoux

"Ventoux is a special one. I’ve always been a bit afraid of it because of the kind of climber I am. I like long, hard mountain stages with multiple climbs back-to-back. With Ventoux, you often ride on the flat all day before hitting a massive, hour-long effort at the very end. That is what put me into trouble. You go from really high speeds straight into a super tough climb.

Coming from Bédoin, you are riding through the forest on double-digit gradients with no hairpin corners to break the rhythm. Then you pass Chalet Reynard, you're already on your limit, and it just keeps dragging up into the wind.

I also have a lifetime memory of the crazy incident in 2016 when Chris Froome was running up the mountain. There was too much wind to finish at the summit, so they moved the finish to Chalet Reynard, and the whole thing just became chaotic. It was always a challenging climb for me, but the atmosphere with the fans is unique. It has two completely different

landscapes: the forest at the bottom, and the moonscape at the top. It’s a climb like no other."

Riding Col du Tourmalet

"I won't say too much about the Tourmalet because it holds one of my biggest disappointments as a rider. At the 2019 Tour, I had high GC expectations but got dropped on the previous climb, ending up in a group 20 to 25 minutes behind the leaders. It was tough because the fans expected me to be at the front, and I just couldn't deliver.

However, it became one of the most powerful human experiences of my career. All my teammates waited for me on that climb so we could finish together. It wasn't about speed anymore; it was about standing together as a group and showing trust in me. That moment was decisive; it gave us the momentum to go on and win the polka dot jersey that year."

Riding Alpe d’Huez

"Alpe d'Huez is iconic, but I never really enjoyed riding it because it feels like the road doesn't really embrace the mountain. The road is just there to give you access to the top, so it feels different to me. The landscape isn't really what you would expect from the high mountains. It's just hard, brutal, and it puts you right on the limit, and it is always super warm there.

Also, with all the crowds and all the fans, it makes it super hard for the riders. It’s iconic, but for me, it never felt like a stage I just had to win. I’ve never been super enthusiastic about that climb. On the other hand, I love the Col du Sarenne, which is on the other side. It’s not very well-known, but it’s a pure, beautiful climb on small roads going up the back way, and then you descend into Alpe d'Huez."

Riding Col d’Aubisque

"The Col d'Aubisque was actually the one where I got dropped before we went to the Tourmalet. Anyway, looking past the racing side of things, it’s a fabulous climb. I remember having a picnic there with my parents during a Tour de France reconnaissance trip.

It’s brutal, the Pyrenees. I’d say it is even wilder than the Alps. For some reason, I’ve always performed better in the Alps than in the Pyrenees, maybe just because I'm more used to those climbs, but the Aubisque is inconsistent and tough. It gets crowded on the Tour de France, but it’s not like the Alps; it feels even more natural. You can see sheep on the side of the road, even during the race. When you ride it together with the Soulor, it’s an itinerary I would love to do again on a bike trip, because the views up there are completely clear and you can see all the way to the horizon. It’s a beautiful climb, even if I don't have the best racing memories there."