{"id":29241,"date":"2018-06-06T19:17:39","date_gmt":"2018-06-06T18:17:39","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/ourtour.co.uk\/home\/?p=29241"},"modified":"2018-11-24T13:20:49","modified_gmt":"2018-11-24T13:20:49","slug":"running-the-gorges-du-nan-vercours-france","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/ourtour.co.uk\/home\/running-the-gorges-du-nan-vercours-france\/","title":{"rendered":"Running the Gorges du Nan, Vercors, France"},"content":{"rendered":"

Cracking open our map on the Vercors page, the mountain range to the south-west of Grenoble in southern France, something caught my eye. Twisting roads with romantic names: the Combe Laval, the Grands Goulets, Gorges de la Borne and, on a much smaller scale, the Gorges du Nan. Firing up the t’Interweb, searching for any of these names quickly threw up photos which suggested I, of little valour that I am, wouldn’t be venturing up them in our 3.5 tonne, 3m high, 2.2m wide motorhome. Here’s an example, which I took up the Gorges du Nan yesterday:<\/p>\n

\"The

The Gorges du Nan, Vercors, France<\/p><\/div>\n

See what I mean? Would you fancy driving your motorhome up there? Or even a Fiat 500? If you’re still feeling brave, here are another couple of views:<\/p>\n

\"More

More Gorges du Nan<\/p><\/div>\n

\"And

And one final gratuitous Gorges du Nan shot – spot the guys hanging from the sky and working on the rock in a puff of dust<\/p><\/div>\n

It turns out I’d just been electronically introduced to the world of French Balcony Roads – roads which run where no road should naturally run. In parts they’re cut directly into the side of the rock, the equivalent of a mountain tunnel, but with a view. They’re safe(ish) to drive in a car or smaller van, although the old Grands Goulet’s been rendered even more mysterious than the rest. That section of road’s been closed (to everyone – no walking, running, cycling or driving) since 2005 after a number of fatalities due, as far as I can tell, to falling rock. It’s now bypassed with a modern tunnel.<\/p>\n

I was entranced. Being in the lumbering living-wagon, I started to ponder whether I could get up to see any of ’em, and commenced a dig around for more info. An obvious(ish) solution quickly presented itself: the more impressive part of the Gorges du Nan (shown above) was only 3km from the village of Cognin-les-Gorges in the valley below, and the D22 road up through the gorge ran at a steady 6% to 8% incline, which I guessed (hoped) I could run up. A day or two later, with a slight sensation of sickness in my stomach we parked up (N45.17067, E5.41251<\/a>), filled my trail pack with cold water and a few figs, and off I trotted.<\/p>\n

\"Free

Free mixed parking in Cognin-les-Gorges, you can just see the gorge on the left of the photo.<\/p><\/div>\n

\"Me,

Me, trotting. It got a bit warm, so I was glad of the water. I got through about 1.5 litres.<\/p><\/div>\n

Two hours and twenty minutes later, a sweating me stood in the van’s doorway, gurning like a gibbon, with my first ‘hilly’ half marathon in the bag. The biggest excitement was as predicted: after a couple of miles of slowly trotting up long hairpins, the wooded road turned left into a small tunnel and exploded out the other side into what felt a little like thin air. I swore, which isn’t hugely unlike me, but I seriously meant it, believe me. I don’t get blown away very often, but that was some moving experience running along up in the sky!<\/p>\n

\"OK,

OK, I took this on the way down, but I felt like that on the way up, honest!<\/p><\/div>\n