Col de Sorba from Fium Orbu Valley - On Corse - CycleBlaze

Col de Sorba from Fium Orbu Valley

to Gorges de la Restonica

May certainly seems the month to ride around Corsica. Unless we're just two of the luckiest bastards to ever walk the planet. 

It's a gorgeous, sunny day and the pinacle-top peaks that were obscured in shadows last night appear larger than life when we pull back the shutters and peek out of our bedroom window. What a day to do the Col de Sorba. Perfect. 

We scoff our croissants and drink our coffee and set off wearing shades and with a SF25 smeared on our faces and arms.

There's no warm-up. From Ghisoni, the D 69 kicks up out of the valley cradling the Fium Orbu River, zigzagging away from that spendid jagged ridge and into a forest of pines and whatever else. It's not a wide road, only just okay for two cars to pass. We don't see any, but road repair crews - dozens of men - are busy at it for quite a few kilometers and the surface is a bit of a mess with large plant moving around and blocking the route. Some workers look on curious as we pedal past, us sweating for free. Others cheer. 

We know the col is 10km - it's marked on my Rough Guide map - and rises over 640 meters. The average incline is over 6% and in places I reckon over 10, especially at the foot. At about the halfway mark, we stop again to take a snap and Dave's front brake cable snaps. Oh dear.

He'd noticed it had been a bit stiff. The wire had frayed on the bent tube that guides it 90 degrees, as this had got squashed on the flight to Nice. It's something we'd not seen. Too late now. I thought I had a spare cable, but it's just for the gears. At least it broke riding at a pedestrian speed, instead of while bombing down from this 1,311-meter-high col at 60-odd kilometres an hour and about to tackle a tight hairpin. Don't even think about it.

There should be a bike shop in Corte, not a million miles away. He'll just have to take it steady on the descent. 

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We've got the get to the col's top yet, so carry on. It doesn't seem too hard over the last couple of kilometers and we pedal to the pass's zenith and see the sign and take a quick snap.

We cruise to the other side of the col and get a breathtaking vista. The snowy peaks we'd seen a week or so ago are now close up - well, as close as we're ever going to get. They line the horizon. In between us and them is a deep and rugged landscape. 

The route of the D 69 can be seen making its way across the stony slopes that are peppered with trees. We both stand and gawp for a while. Then I set off and start to whiz down and Dave stays to take a picture of me doing so...

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The road is empty. Dave can speed a little, but we don't go too crazy. We pause to enjoy the views. It doesn't get much better than this. We've been saying that a lot since we arrived in Corsica. Is this the best part of France to tour? Many locals here would bristle at the suggestion, as they dont see themselves as being French, but - mile for mile - I would say it is. Yes, I know the Pyrenees, the Alps, the Loire, Provence and the Cote d'Azur are all incredible. It's just that Corsica seems to have all their features and boast quiet roads. Like this one we're freewheeling down now.

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Corte
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The D 69 connects to the wider and busier N 193, but it's not too bad. There's a cafe at the junction near Vivario and we stop for lunch and a cold drink. It's a real hot one today. We then speed down and down towards Corte, about 25 kilometers away and once there, decide not to venture up into the walled city and veer southwest instead, pedaling along the singletrack that leads to Gorges de la Restonica. 

The incline is steady for the six kilometres to the camp site, each one super.

The campsite is a gem, too. Tucked on the far bank and reached via a small bridge, it's quiet and roomy enough - not too many campers today. 

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Dave and I find spots near some tall conifers and get showered. 

There's a camp restuarant right on the rocky bank and we stroll across and seat ourselves at a riverside table, flirt with the waitress and sup our chilled Pietras while our pasta gets cooked. 

The roar of the whitewater is mesmerizing and it sounds through the night and is still going strong in the bright morning.

Today's ride: 50 km (31 miles)
Total: 630 km (391 miles)

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