21 ESP climbs the Vuelta should use

[icefire]

Villuercas definitely calls for a downhill finish at the World Heritage Site of Guadalupe. I'm sure they can find a ramp there to tease Guillén with punchy finish in town.

 

[Libertine Seguros]

8. Fonte da Cova (Galicia/León)
The other Galician giant

There are a few enormous climbs to be found in the Macizo Galaico, mainland Spain's easternmost mountain range, which has previously only been included in part in La Vuelta. The increased interest in Galicia in hosting the race since they are no longer bankrolling a team has led to more stages being held there, and with the desire to have more decisive stages in Galicia, the need to find key climbs in the region has become of interest to Unipublic. This has led to the discoveries, in 2011, of Ancares, which looks like it will be fast taken to heart by the fans of the Vuelta, and also of the longer, but much more gradual, Estación de Esquí La Manzaneda. But with the Cabeza de Manzaneda ski station only at 1497m being a pass that can be accessed from a couple of sides, they could certainly turn this into a category 1 climb or even a borderline ESP climb to use solely in passing through - for example approaching from the south they could climb from Bibei for 20,8km @ 5,7% then descend via A Pobra de Trives to continue the stage; to approach from the north then the reverse side would be 26,4km @ 4,4%. The easier side, could however be reached via the difficult A Moa climb. From whichever descent from A Cabeza de Manzaneda we pick, there is then a rolling route of 20-30 kilometres to O Barco. This gives us the opportunity to climb the very difficult (hard cat.1 probably) Alto de Chaira de Paredes (aka A Moeda)... but even better, it leads us into today's killer climb, the Galician side of Fonte da Cova.

Known primarily to cycling fans as Fonte da Cova, this beast from the east has a wintersports station shortly before the summit of the same name, although it also goes by the names of Peña Trevinca, Collada Trevinca and Puerto El Sestil (although the actual brown summit sign says Puerto de Fonte da Cova, at least on the Galician side; on the Leonese side it says "Fuente de la Cueva" accordingly). All four of these are the same climb, which on its Galician side measures up to a pretty impressive 23,1km @ 6,4%. Or, if you put the Comienza Puerto sign a bit earlier as Altimetrias do, 27,1km @ 5,6%.

The summit of the mountain (not the road) Peña Trevinca is one of the highest points in the Maciza Galaica, so here we are headed right up to the very ceiling of the range on our winding, punishing ascent. There is one stretch of respite in it, but it is fairly brief and early on; this isn't the leg-breaking up and down of La Marta, or a clear calm-before-the-storm ascent like Pradell from Vallcebre or Pico Villuercas via Camino de las Acebadillas. Nor is it a study in poor road surfaces, for the climb is in perfectly good condition.

This is relentless punishment compared by the PRC guys to the Col de la Madeleine. There are no truly inhuman gradients hidden within Fonte da Cova - its maximum is 13%. However, it does hit you with its steepest kilometre - 1km at 9,9% - almost right from the beginning, as a bit of a warning shot, and indeed the maximum gradient comes here too. The first 7,5km eventually settle down to average 6,8% before the rider gets off lightly with a little respite.

But the respite is but brief, and when the road turns uphill once more with 14 kilometres remaining, it will never get below 5% for more than a few metres again. 7 kilometres at a very consistent gradient follow, at between 6,5 and 7%, but then with 7km to go Fonte da Cova relinquishes this consistency in order to tighten its grip on the riders' pained throats, bringing the gradient up to 9% once more and adding a few stretches of 12% for good measure. Although these gradients are not sustained, the average gradient of the last 7 kilometres is 8,1% and bearing in mind that is on top of 16km of climbing already, it swiftly becomes clear why this is an ESP-category climb, if the combination of 20+km length and 6%+ gradient hadn't already told you to expect that.

Now, the likelihood, should Javier Guillén wish to take advantage of the excellence of this climb, is that the stage would finish at the Estación de Esquí, so about a kilometre shy of the actual summit. However, the actual summit is open enough, with enough space for the trappings of the race, at least so long as they are able to finish at places like Ancares. Yes, grass may be needed as parking areas etc., but the race caravan could use the ski station and then things would be eminently manageable at the summit.

So far I have talked about Fonte da Cova as a mountaintop finish, hence the preamble mentioning Cabeza de Manzaneda and other climbs that could lead into it giving us a good stage. But that would be to sell short many of the options that we have with Fonte da Cova. The most popular option by far in the minds of route designers is to pair it up with the western side of Llano de las Ovejas, a climb we shall no doubt get to know better later on. This enables us to either have a brief descent to El Morredero, a fairly well known Vuelta summit, or a very long descent into Ponferrada. However, it is also worth considering the Leonese sides of Fonte da Cova, even if they might not merit the same categorisation as the brutal, brutal Galician side.

The main Leonese climb of Fonte da Cova is 10,7km @ 7,3%, a worthy category 1 climb, although that does include some steeper ramps than the far tougher Galician version has. This enables us to attach it to the tougher, Ponferrada side of Llano de las Ovejas, and the roads, if anything, are even better than on the Galician side, although things do get somewhat less pristine higher up. Fonte da Cova and Llano de las Ovejas are a natural pair that go together like Mortirolo and Aprica, Aspin and Tourmalet, Giau and Fedaia, Finestre and Sestrières; although unlike some of those pairings this double act is just as good in either direction. But there is a third way; climbing to Fonte da Cova via Puerto de las Gobernadas cuts just a kilometre off the eastern ascent, but adds a whole new category 1 climb beforehand; ascending in multiple steps like the Alto de La Marta, with a kilometre averaging over 10% and four more over 9%. Its 18km @ 4,7% are misleading, subdivided into two sections of around 7km averaging 7%, with a couple of descents and a steep puncheur kilometre of over 8% in the middle. If one were to include Las Gobernadas as one whole climb from Puente de Rio Cabrera to Fonte da Cova, we're talking 30,7km @ 4,1%, and this would be categorised ESP.

However, my personal preference, I'm afraid, must remain with the Galician side. With the recently discovered La Manzaneda climb, but only climbing to the Estación de Montaña, not the Estación de Esquí, followed by Fonte da Cova, followed by Llano de las Ovejas, you could have a stage with three legitimate hors catégorie mountains back to back, and one of the legitimately toughest mountain stages ever seen in the Vuelta if not the toughest outright.

 

[fauniera]

Wonderful climbs so far.

There are a few enormous climbs to be found in the Macizo Galaico, mainland Spain's easternmost mountain range

I think you mean westernmost.

 

[Libertine Seguros]

Oops, yes, geography fail there!

9. Mont Caro (Cataluña)
A different kind of Catalan climb

While it was argued previously in the thread that the only places in Cataluña with the money and the inclination to host a stage finish are near the coast, this rules out many of the great Catalan Pyrenean climbs. But here we are not in the Catalan Pyrenées; we are instead in Els Ports, the northeastern tip of the Sistema Ibérico. And we have a climb that at least starts under 30km from the nearest coastal point, the town of L'Ampolla. And it's a big one, too.

All the way from Tortosa, the painful ascent of Mont Caro is 23,2km @ 6,1%, though if you take the last 14km only, they average just under 7,5%, which tells a bit more of the story. Nevertheless, this is a long and difficult climb. It starts off on nice, wide, well-kept roads while we're fairly close to Tarragona, but the higher up in altitude we go, the worse the roads, until near the summit we have narrow, worn roads with no verge to keep the riders from the rocky roadside jutting into the edge of the tarmac. Hopefully fans will be able to line that roadside to prevent any problems. The switchbacks come thick and fast. In its aesthetics, the climb is rather similar to Mont Faron, from the Tour Méditerranéen (and occasionally Paris-Nice), however while that climb is short and steep, this one is long and draining, but they both have similar stunning vistas of the coastline below.

Once the early false flat kilometres are out of the way, Mont Caro hits you hard, with the first three kilometres of real climbing coming at over 8% and with no fewer than 11 ramps of 10% or over. Although there is a bit of a flattening out at the 12km mark, it soon jumps up and hits the riders with its steepest kilometre yet - 9,7%! After 7,5km that average 8,4% the riders do finally get a bit of respite in the form of a flattening out for about a kilometre, where the road forks; we take the left fork, and this is where the previously two-laned road narrows right down and the tarmac situation deteriorates, with rough surfaces to be endured over the final 4,2km, which once more average 8,4% and include the steepest ramp in the whole climb - to 15%. It is the stretch from the fork in the road to 2km from the stripe that is the toughest, with kilometres of 9,2% and 10,3%, and then the climb eases up slightly as the summit approaches, eventually with the final 200m being just false flat.

Now, in terms of inclusion in La Vuelta, Mont Caro is in an odd position. It is an ESP-categorised mountain that, like Mont Ventoux, stands more or less alone in terms of mountains of its size and stature in the area it is in; it can be linked to climbs, but none that even remotely match up to it in size and difficulty, and as a result most stages to Mont Caro that could be designed are veritable one-climb stages. Not that that wouldn't suit Javier Guillén of course. The only climb that backs directly onto Mont Caro would be the Coll de l'Alba, which is only around 6km at 5,5% so would be cat.2 at most. Pacing a race would also become questionable unless it was as a final parting shot after the Pyrenées, or in a race where the start had been somewhere like Zaragoza or Barcelona, thus meaning it would be difficult to have genuine Pyrenéan stages, but with Unipublic still wanting to break things up comparatively early.

Nevertheless, the profile shows that this is very much an ESP category climb, and even if it would have to be a one-climb stage, that wouldn't make it any different to Lagos de Covadonga, as there are plenty of climbs that could be put in a stage to Mont Caro, just very few close enough to make a difference to the race situation before they arrive at the base of the final climb. And we've seen many a one-climb stage to Covadonga before, and this ought to match Covadonga for difficulty if not for romance.

 

[icefire]

Thanks, Libertine. You knew I was waiting for this

Mont Caro was climbed in the 1991 Volta a Catalunya. Back then the Volta was raced in September just after the Worlds, which were in late August. Indurain was the race leader after the ITT the day before but the Colombians weren't going to make it easy for the recent TdF winner. They attacked left and rigth until Lucho Herrera finally made a gap with the leaders group. He could only be followed by Delgado and a stagier recently signed by Manolo Díaz who used to wear very thick glasses. Herrera left Delgado in the last km to win the stage, while Manolo's young pupil was chased back by Indurain's group but his performance was enough to get 3rd position in the final GC after the two Banesto leaders.

Mont Caro hosted another Volta stage finish in 1985. Stage winner was another Colombian, Alirio Chizabas.

 

[Libertine Seguros]

10. Peña Escrita (Andalucía)
Merry Christmas, Señor Guillén

Here I am perhaps pushing the boundaries of what is acceptable in a professional race. But then, if there's one race organiser that is deliberately seeking out the most stupidly unnecessarily steep slopes to make the riders tackle, it was RCS. But since tragically they couldn't handle the ridiculous and yet perversely entertaining lunacy of Angelo Zomegnan any longer, we've had to rely on Unipublic, who seem very keen on one-climb stages, as long as that one climb is ludicrously steep. Here, they will find everything they need and possibly more, as we blend Angliru, Bola del Mundo and Cuitu Negru into one, and then throw it down on the very south coast of Spain where the riders can add the risk of 40º+ heat to the torture. And torture it most certainly is.

In terms of its numbers, it doesn't seem all too different to a great many classic cycling climbs, such as Alpe d'Huez or Lagos de Covadonga; the official numbers on Peña Escrita are 14,1km @ 8,2%. But they do not let on the sheer brutality of this climb, which is in all reality deserving of a spot alongside the Angliru or Zoncolan as cycling's biggest killers (yes, I know Großer Speikkogel or Scanuppia would beat it too, but I don't see the Österreichrundfahrt or Giro attempting those any time soon, whereas if Peña Escrita was interested in hosting La Vuelta you have to bet Guillén would be all over it). After all, there are no fewer than TWELVE stretches where the gradient is greater than or equal to 20%.

That is the result of a huge amount of inconsistency in the climb; getting into a rhythm on this ascent is nigh on impossible. Even in the starting village that hosts the "Comienza Puerto" sign, the gradient gets up to 19%, although a couple of false flat kilometres dull the effect of that initial ramp. After these kilometres, and crossing an aqueduct, however, se armó un zapatiesto! The gradients of this first "in earnest" ramp of the climb get up to 21%. Luckily for those not named "Joaquím Rodríguez" this gradient cannot be sustained, and this first "true" climbing kilometre averages a paltry 13,3% with only one ramp of 19% and two of 17% to maintain the suffering of that first stretch. The next kilometre is even easier - 12,1%! Angelo Zomegnan spits on these puny gradients! On the plus side for this kilometre, the gradient sets off from the 19% that the previous stretch left off at and ramps up to 20% before giving us a bit of false flat, just to lie to the riders before slamming the gradient back up to 21% in a 500m stretch that averages almost 18%!!!

The next kilometre or two are a bit more manageable, but introduce a new threat to the rider: exposure to the elements as the riders continue along a mountain crest for a couple of kilometres with the sun liable to be beating down on them, which cannot be enjoyable at these temperatures or after two kilometres averaging 12,7%. Nevertheless, the riders are rewarded with a 3km stretch with a mere average of 3,5% and just two stretches where the gradient gets above 15%, which would be steep on most climbs but on Peña Escrita can be classified as "a rest'.

These easier days are brought to a crushing halt with 250m where the gradient gets right back up to 21% and pummels the riders mercilessly. After this, it flattens out again, but this is the last time; the last four kilometres are straight out of the worst nightmares of rouleurs, the fantasies of cyclosadists and yes: Zomegnan approves. Holy hell are these brutal. It starts at the false flat and quickly builds to a crescendo; the fourth-to-last kilometre continually increases the gradient until we get to 20%, and then the riders cross into Parque Nacional Peña Escrita for the final kilometres of torture. There is no doubting that the scenery is absolutely stunning, but the riders probably won't even be conscious to see the sights; this kilometre from 3km to 2km from the stripe averages a mindblowing 16,5% - that's more than Montelupone, more than the Alto de Aia, and more than anything Cuitu Negru can give us. That's more than any single kilometre of Monte Zoncolan, and only the Cueña de los Cabres from Angliru is able to match the brutality (Cueña de los Cabres also has a steeper maximum gradient, of 23% to Peña Escrita's 22%). The final two kilometres are unable to match up to this incredible brutality in terms of gradient, but it does have a second weapon.

Yes, for the final two kilometres, which average a comparatively simple but nevertheless still nothing less than imposing 14%, we have hormigón!!! We are surely going to see some serious square-pedalling here, and some serious zig-zag action. Forget San Luca and the 2009 Froome, here we have some slopes to make the 2013 Froome start sidewinding like that. With four stretches of 20% or more, there's still more than enough to make a rider wince and frankly, even if the control of the racing is tight enough that the riders come to the final four kilometres together (which would in itself be enough to splinter the field) we ought to see huge gaps here.

Now, Peña Escrita is undoubtedly one of those climbs, like Mont Ventoux, Angliru, Monte Zoncolan or Kitzbüheler Horn, where the steepness and difficulty of the final climb will ensure gaps are created regardless of the difficulty of the stage prior to that, and a one-climb Unipublic special could still work here. However, there are still possibilities for linking it to other climbs. Perhaps the most likely is the smallish 6km @ 5% rise to Ítrabo, however this comes off the back of the eastern face of Conjuros, so you could definitely have Haza del Lino via Polopos (18,0km @ 7,1%, cat.ESP), Conjuros (10,0km @ 5,7%, cat.1), Collado de Ítrabo (6,0km @ 4,8%, cat.3), Peña Escrita (14,1km @ 8,2%, cat.ESP) backing onto one another with precious little flat - that would make one hell of a stage because though the toughest climbs were far earlier, the legs would really need to recover well to be ready for Peña Escrita after all that.

(most of the photos on this entry borrowed from Martín Cerván of APM, whose photogallery of this climb is truly jawdropping).

 

[Linkinito]

Holy ****. Damn, this climb is absolute hell. That irregularity. Those slopes. That final. Man, this is just something Unipublic would definitely love. And we're only at #10. Can't wait for the next ones, you're doing an awesome job.

(why don't we have roads like this in France :'( )

 

[rghysens]

(why don't we have roads like this in France :'( )

http://www.climbbybike.com/profile.asp?Climbprofile=Mont-Colombis&MountainID=6975

Comes very close, in my opinion.

 

[icefire]

That sign of Las Majadas/El Rescate after km 9 indicates there's a separate way down to add a loop if there is no other possibility to add a climb before Peña Escrita.

 

[roundabout]

http://www.climbbybike.com/profile.asp?Climbprofile=Mont-Colombis&MountainID=6975

Comes very close, in my opinion.

http://www.cols-cyclisme.com/images/courbes/1652.gif

shame about the sterrato which makes it impossible for the Tour to use

 

[escartin]

like the others, i'd just like to add:

a) holy sh*t, Pena Escrita, what a climb!
b) great thread, looking forward to see what other climbs you come up with

 

[jsem94]

Can we please see that climb televised. Would cement Vuelta as a GT of climbing hell.

 

[Libertine Seguros]

11. Collado de Sahún (Aragón)
The vision from the future

Here we are once more pushing the boundaries of what's acceptable, at least at present, but it shouldn't be long before the Vuelta has the chance to tackle these slopes. Though the Collado de Sahún is currently only partially paved, the project to fill it with shiny new tarmac as the Vuelta seeks to appease it's sworn enemy, Bavarianrider, continues apace. This will be excellent, because right here we have a climb that hits all the buttons to be a classic.

This epic pass, which links the town of Castejón de Sos to the Valle de Gistaín, can be approached from either side, because neither one is easy. The official Puerto de Sahún is at 1999m and overlooks the spectacular Barranco Llisat, but the actual highest point on the road is a little above that, at 2020m. As the Vuelta doesn't go over 2000m often, this kind of altitude is always worth considering for its impact even before we get to the gradients.

From Castejón de Sos, the ascent to the Collado de Sahún is 16,1km @ 7,0%. At present, this is perhaps the only realistic way to put a finish at the Collado de Sahún; there is a widening out at the summit, and the final kilometre would be on hormigón, so it would not be totally impossible to finish on such a climb. The climb starts off with difficulty immediately, the second kilometre averaging over 10%, before we give way to some more typical climbing terrain with difficult lacets heading into the village of Chía. After passing the Puente Santa Julià, 5km into the climb, the tarmac stops and the vistas change from hidden away in the valley lacets to broad, beautiful brushstrokes of sky and mountain.

Now the road starts turning to Finestre-like, coarse sterrato. The riders will have to force themselves forwards, with the surface not helping them one iota, as after a kilometre or so to warm themselves up we then get 5km averaging nearly 9%, with the steepest kilometre being at 9,4% and slopes getting to 16%, on a surface which is not quite the pristine tarmac it is expected to be in the future.

As the road starts to ease up, we get some more reliable surface at the approach to the summit, which the riders will no doubt be thankful for as the final kilometre from this southeastern side is easy compared to the prior torment.

From the west, though, the climb is a different beast. In total it is 25,2km @ 4,9%, although this is in two distinct climbs linked by false flat. The first part of the climb is false flat on the valley roads before 2km at 8%; there are then six more kilometres of false flat leading into the picturesque village of Plan; after that, the riders turn left off of the A-2609, cross a river, and then the real climb comes; 12,2km @ 7,5% follows, of which the stretch from 9km out to just under 1km from the summit alternates between unpaved stretches and hormigón. A stretch such as this one is one of the more desirable stretches, however towards the top we do once more get perfectly good tarmac. Nevertheless, as the Valle de Benasque and Valle de Gistaín seek to improve communications and access between one another the repaving of the road should hopefully provide us with a usable cycling road before long, and then it really ought to be nothing more than a matter of time before the Vuelta comes calling.

The paving of the Collado de Sahún will also add possibilities for the Vuelta's visits to France. The connection to the never-used Puerto de Bielsa, with its lengthy tunnel summit, opens up options. Climbing the southeast side of Sahún, one could descent to Plan, climb the Spanish side of Bielsa (21,2km @ 4,8%, but the last 9km at 6,7% and including a stretch of 2km at 9,7%) then finish at Piau-Engaly, or descend to Saint-Laury-Soulan and finish at Pla d'Adet. Alternatively, my preferred option, there could be Azet or something similar to begin with, then the north (French) side of Bielsa (19,2km @ 5,2%, cat.1) before then climbing the Collado de Sahún via Plan, descending into Castejón de Sos and then (jens_attacks, you can thank me later) passing the Cascada de Aigualluts and entering Benasque, where the riders can finish the stage in the traditional Vuelta hunting ground of Cerler-Ampriu, for a final climb of 11,8km @ 6,1%. If we were to do this, the summit of the Collado de Sahún would be around 45km from the finish. The other option would be Baños de Panticosa, but this doesn't bring Sahún any closer to the finish, and Cerler has more money and more interest in hosting La Vuelta...

Not coming from France, the preceding climbs are harder to find; the most logical would be Fanlo, from the West, 11km @ 4,7%, probably cat.2. Approaching via Castejón de Sos, so climbing the southeast side of the Collado de Sahún, the toughest lead-in climb is probably Laspaúles (8,3km, 5,4%, cat.2) which leads into the either cat.3 or uncategorised Coll de Fadas (3,9km @ 3,7%), then 11km descent straight into the base of our 16km semi-paved hellbeast. At the moment it is only realistic to imagine a finish at Sahún, from Castejón, probably in a stage similar to those that went to Cerler.

However, for the future, the most realistic options are perhaps Cerler-Ampriu after Sahún west, or a finish either in Bielsa or, perhaps better, after a period of uphill false flat à la Aprica, at the Parador del Valle de la Pineta-Monte Perdido.

 

[icefire]

Let's see if that project to pave Sahún gets done. It would reduce the distance (on paved roads) between Plan and Castejón de Sos from 100kms to just about 30kms. However the feasibility of the project has been put into question. Large sections of the west side are facing north, so keeping the road open in winter and maintenance works would be costly.

 

[Libertine Seguros]

You know what, the beginning of the Winter Olympics kinda took me away from this thread and filled a lot of my discussion time when they finished I kind of forgot about this. Which is not good, of course, as this is almost as much my baby as the Race Design thread. Let's get back to business and do the second half of Spain's unused behemoths. Starting with a personal favourite.

12. Monte Oiz (País Vasco)
Bola del Vasco

Here we have my only foray into Euskadi; surprisingly while the Basque Country is practically all mountainous and flat terrain is at a premium, the mountains are primarily a connecting chain between the Pyrenees and the Cordillera Cantábrica, of medium height and therefore while steepness is extreme, climbs are usually too short to merit ESP-category status, with the classic Basque climbs being the likes of Jaizkibel (8km @ 5-6%), Usartza (Arrate)(7km @ 7%), Orduña (similar) and the great cathedral of Basque cycling, the mighty Urkiola (6km @ 9%). Of course, if you want to consider the whole Zazpiak Bat thing, there are a number of genuine HC Basque climbs, mostly in Iparralde, i.e. across the border in France, so that cannot be considered here (Larrau and Pierre Saint-Martin from their French sides, Errozate, Bagargui, Arnostegi, Station d'Issarbe). Navarre has a couple that could lay claim to the title, but the clearest call is the mighty San Miguel de Áralar, a hormigón-filled struggle that would undoubtedly have been included in this thread had Guillén not finally got round to using it in the 2014 Vuelta route.

And so, we come to this, what I consider to be the one true ESP climb in the modern País Vasco. Oiz has a long history within the Basque traditions, having been one of the locations of assemblies of people of power in centuries gone by, and also it crops up in Basque folk tales and the pre-Christian religion of the area. It also hit the news more recently due to an aeroplane disaster when a flight from Madrid to Bilbao struck the signal tower, killing everyone on board. Now, it is a high and mighty summit which faces the Parque Nacional de Urkiola to the south, and the Urdaibai estuary to the north. It has been mooted as a potential summit finish for races occasionally, but usually it goes unnoticed.

Until now. There are many ways to reach the summit of Monte Oiz, and all of them share the final 2km; they meet at the Ermita de San Kristobal; none of them are especially easy, but some routes to the summit are tougher than others.

I will start with the most common route to the summit from the south, which begins in Iurreta, a traditional small Basque town which has now been swallowed up by the larger, more successful neighbour, Durango, and jumps up and down more than bipolar disorder on its way to the signal station at the top.

The pure statistics for this side are 14,7km @ 6,0%. If we're honest, the stats say category 1 for that, not ESP. But the statistics are all about considering consistency, treating these as normal climbs, which they aren't. With Oiz, two factors need to be taken into account. One is Basqueness, which means that like the majority of climbs in the area this climb is extremely irregular and its average belies some of the horror-slopes within; the other is hormigón, those painful concrete surfaces that characterise many of Spain's nastiest ascents. Nevertheless, the climb begins with some nasty slopes still on tarmac, with a kilometre at 11% mostly varying between 12 and 17% early on, then flattening out, then a second rise of nearly a kilometre averaging 10% into San Juan de Momoitio, with some severe ramps. You can turn right here to go to the Alto de Garai... then shortly afterward there is the option to continue straight on, which will take you to Goiuria (more on that later)... but we're going to turn right, towards the summit. Another brutally tough kilometre follows, averaging 10,7%, before we run out of tarmac, and se armó un zapatiesto - it's time for hormigón! Luckily for the riders, this kicks off by easing up to false flat, before slowly turning up the wick, progressively steepening until, after 7km of concrete, we're at around 8-9% shortly before arriving at San Kristobal... whereupon those hellish final slopes begin. But more on those later.

Our second approach is a more straightforward version of the same thing. No full profile of it, but it begins in the same place as the previous version, Iurreta, and takes a more regular route via Goiuria to the junction at Duña, which takes an extra kilometre and apart from one nasty ramp at 19%, is much more manageable and regular than the route via San Juan de Momoitio. It totals 15,7km @ 5,6% and the profile is the same as the above from the 5km mark onwards, but instead of those 5km, we have the first 6km of this profile, for the Iturzuri climb, on the shoulder of Monte Oiz. I would probably call this side a cat.1, owing to removing some of the toughest stuff in the early going and though it is still half-hormigón, much of it is manageable until the end without the brutal introduction that will already have riders tired before the concrete.

Approaching Monte Oiz from the north gives us some more brutal stuff. My personal favourite version of the climb is also perhaps the shortest climb in this list that I am going to plead for the case of being a genuine HC - the side from Munitibar.

This one is pretty short, at just 8,9km @ 9,4%, but does have a couple of benefits; first, it is easier to connect to other decent sized climbs, being directly connectable to Goierri, Parriolaburu or Gontzegaraigane (which, having been in País Vasco this year, will tell you we can connect THAT directly to Ixua & so on); second, there is absolutely no respite in this version of the climb, with all 9 kilometres being solidly uphill. The first three are up to the village of Ganbe, at the edge of the famous Balcón de Bizkaia, with some of the most impressive vistas in the area, which in Euskadi is saying something. These are on perfectly good tarmac at around 7%; but after this, the riders cross the metaphorical Styx and onto six kilometres of torture; the final 5,9km average nearly 11% on some pretty difficult surfaces, with gradients maxing out at 21%. I have included this side in a couple of my Race Design thread routes, in fact, however only climbing as far as the Ermita de San Kristobal before descending into Iurreta. The final slopes before San Kristobal are especially painful, and I think that even though this side is just 9km in length, it could be argued for as a legitimate ESP due to the road surface, and seeing as the Vuelta has categorised Peña Cabarga and Urkiola 1st category, this is the same length but steeper on concreted hell-slopes... after 3km of legitimate climbing beforehand.

The other approach from the north is to come from the Urdaibai estuary, from another cradle of Basque history, Gernika. This route is 20,2km @ 5,0%, however because much of the first 15km is little more than false flat, I don't think you could really categorise anything but the last 5,2km from this side - although those match up to the final ones from Munitibar, from just after Ganbe, and average a calf-burning 11,7% - and I'd argue that is a legitimate category 1 climb anyhow. This profile also suggests that a gradient of 25% is achieved, which the previous profile disagrees with, so they aren't quite matching up perfectly against one another... I think they both agree that this climb means serious pain, however.

In describing the routes to the top, I have so far avoided the final 2km, which all sides share. But you can see the profiles there, so you can still see how brutal they are. It's pretty nasty up here, as we snake our way through the wind turbines that characterise the summit; the road is a narrow band of concrete, but don't tell me this wouldn't look awe-inspiring draped in the thousands of excitable Basque cycling fans - it's easily accessible from Durango, Gernika and Eibar too, so with the Basque passion for cycling, this could be something special. As we get closer to the summit, the road conditions worsen and the slopes that loom become ever more ominous; the final hairpin into the signal station will be blessed relief for riders, especially if a proper Basque saw-toothed stage has led into this climb, which it damn well should.

 

[Libertine Seguros]

Now, I would never advocate a mountaintop finish at Monte Oiz in the Itzulia; as a 6-day race, such a brutal mountaintop would make it a one-climb race; if we were to include it, it would probably be in the form I already suggested - from Munitibar to San Kristobal, then descending to Iurreta and either finishing with Garai (obviously descending the Iurreta via Goiuria side to enable us to climb to Garai on the San Juan de Momoitio side), or continuing through Durango to finish on the classic Basque icon that is Urkiola. However, if La Vuelta were to show up in País Vasco again after the popularity of the 2011-12 stages, then I would definitely not be against a finish here. And since this is the Basque country, options for the stage to that point are myriad.

My personal preference would be for something like this, a final 100km of constant up-and-down; finding comparably-sized climbs to Oiz is difficult around here, so instead we have to ensure riders are tired at the base with lots and lots of smaller climbs. Here we climb Oiz from Munitibar, following on from:
Endoia (3,4km @ 9,5%, cat.2)
Azurki (5,7km @ 7,6%, cat.2)
Elosua (9,5km @ 5,6%, cat.2, maybe cat.1 at the Vuelta sometimes)
Karabieta (5,2km @ 7,1%, cat.2)
Ixua (5,4km @ 7,2%, cat.2)
Parriolaburu (6,5km @ 5,3%, cat.2)
Monte Oiz (8,9km @ 9,4%, cat.ESP).

Yes, I'd pay for that stage.

 

[More Strides than Rides]

Great stuff. Thanks for the revival

 

[Libertine Seguros]

13. Jito de Escarandi (Asturias)
The silent brother

The Picos de Europa mountain range is well known to the Vuelta, but Unipublic have only scratched the surface of what there is available in this range. Using a few Cantabrian climbs before the long and gradual summit to Fuente Dé in 2012 may have been a big success, and there may have been a few worthy outings for the long and painful Puerto de San Glorio, which is over 25km long at just under 5%, so not overly complicated but seemingly endless (we will see it in 2014, but unfortunately not in a position to be decisive); but more often than not, the contribution of this attractive mountain range to the Vuelta has been limited to a single climb. Of course, it is a pretty huge contribution, seeing as it is arguably the Vuelta's most storied and iconic ascent, the now legendary Lagos de Covadonga. This classic climb that has shaped many Vueltas in the preceding decades maxes out at around 15%, and has overall statistics of 14km at around 7%. Parallel to Lagos de Covadonga, similarly starting at the north of the Picos de Europa and similarly running in a southeasterly direction, lies its twin brother, the Jito de Escarandi (Jitu d'Escarandí in Asturianu)... which crests on the border between Asturias and Cantabria and is absolutely in no way a lesser climb than its more famous twin.

There is only one way to climb the Jitu, and that's from Poncebos, a small village in the municipality of Cabrales, famous for its cheese. To ascend from here to the crest of the climb is a difficult 14,5km @ 7,5%. APM consider this to give it comparable stats to Isola 2000, perhaps because of the near-identical first 7km, but Isola's easing off comes more gradually than with El Jitu, and also Isola doesn't kick back up a second time either. You know another climb that has stats of just over 14km at around 7,5%? My beloved Fedaia (sorry Jitu, that's given you something impossible to live up to). Fedaia bundles all its most brutal slopes together at the end, however, and its brother Lagos de Covadonga bunches them in the start and middle of the climb, whereas here the toughest parts are split into two distinct sections.

This climb kicks off at full speed, with the first 4 kilometres averaging just under 9% and including some brutal slopes of up to 15% as we head along the Rio Cares and then the Rio Duje. And while it isn't the Serrai di Sottoguda, we do have a very attractive gorge to head through during these painful slopes, as well as a few dramatic tunnels before finally emerging to see Los Picos in all their glory. A strong pace here will burn off a lot of domestiques early on, with a number of ramps up to 14 and 15%. Passing Tielve, the road starts to level out, gradients reducing for a couple of kilometres (still at 6-7%) before giving riders a surprising treat in the form of a kilometre of false flat before ramping up again. The next 3 kilometres are fairly normal climbing kilometres, on roads in surprisingly good condition considering they only link a couple of very small mountain villages. Passing Tielve also gives us a wonderful waterfall, because the Picos de Europa are nothing if not pretty.

With 5km remaining the road splits at a hairpin; we take the full hairpin rather than branching off to the right (that route does not stay paved for long) and continue up to the small town of Sotres, a picturesque mountainside establishment that is the largest population centre on the route. The first kilometre into Sotres is a vicious ramp twice as steep as its predecessor and getting up as far as 17%, which is steeper than the climb has managed to get to previously, and comes as part of a 500m ramp at a painful 15%; while the period from Tielve to the junction is for consolidation of the race situation developed on the early ramps, here is where the kick for home really begins. The gradient eases a little through Sotres itself, but leaving the town sees the road conditions worsen and the gradients hammer up to the highest that the Jito de Escarandi has to offer - 2km at 10,8%, including a 400m stretch averaging 17% and maxing out at 21%, and another 500m at 15%!

This brutal stretch closes off at the signal station and widening of the road at the Collado de la Caballar. Of course with the previous 2km being the most brutal of the whole climb, Javier Guillén may prefer to finish the climb here than to continue to the Jitu; if he were to do so, the figures would be 12,9km @ 7,9%. Which, according to ASO's official stats, makes it the same gradient as Alpe d'Huez, but 900m shorter - though with a much higher maximum slope. Certainly the final 1600m from the Collado to the Jito de Escarandi are a long way from being imposing, but they aren't really a springboard to attack from, so for me it is ideal to go to the summit, as there will be a comparatively easy final 2km for the less featherweight climbers to try to claw back the gaps that those more adept on the really steep stuff can create on the slopes out of Sotres... and then the final 100m sees one final ramp up to 14% in case people are coming to the line together.

Now, Jitu d'Escarandí is a brother to Lagos de Covadonga, and as is well known, there has been much trouble in recent years trying to find sufficiently difficult run-in climbs to beef up the stage; Mirador del Fito, Collado del Moandi and Collada Llomena are perhaps the nearest to giving us genuine lead-in climbs, but they are still far enough from the base of Covadonga to mean that it's a one-climb stage in terms of meaningful racing. And yes, this problem affects Jitu too. Though the road descends, it is a dead end, running to the Cantabrian village of Tresviso but no further. The Alto del Ortigueiro, 3rd category in the 2008 Vuelta, is the nearest, as if we climb the easiest side we can descend to around 5-10km from the base of the final mountain. This could follow Alto de la Torneria from its hardest side, which would be a perfectly reasonable category 2 climb. It's hard to see much that could top that as a run-in, unfortunately, so this would likely be a one-climb stage.

In the future, however, things could get a lot more interesting if the planned Esla 2000 ski station at the Puerto de San Glorio goes ahead. While San Glorio is some way from the Jito de Escarandi, the proposed extent of the various pistes and resorts have resulted in plans to improve the infrastructure in the region and prevent depopulation and disrepair of the mountain area. Development and paving of the road from Sotres to Bulnes over the Collado Pandébano has already been approved by the Asturian regional government; this would enable us to climb the Jito as far as the junction before Sotres, go over Pandébano and loop back to do almost the whole climb again which would enable us to go to the summit, a bit like the Lagunas de Neila stage in Burgos, or using Ixua before Arrate in País Vasco. Two other new roads are mooted - one linking Fuente Dé to Valdeón, presumably either through the Collado Valdeón or the Horcadina de Valcavao, but also feasibly joining the Pandetrave road after going over the Collado del Somo. More interestingly, however, a road leaving the Fuente Dé route at Espinama and going over the Portillo de Boquejón and Puertos de Aliva to Sotres has been proposed. This would give us a real alternative for a brutal stage design from Cantabria into Asturias, either from the cat.2 climbs known from 2012 to Boquejón-Aliva-(the last few km of Pandébano)-Jito de Escarandi, or potentially a circular route from Asturias with (Llomena-)Panderruada-Pandetrave-Valdeón/Valcavao/Somo(whichever has a completed road)-Boquejón-Aliva-(the last few km of Pandébano)-Jito de Escarandi.

Of course, however, these are distant future options; these roads do not exist at present and, if environmental lobbyists have their way, never will. So at present, we will probably have to deal with something like this as a best option (that's Gijón - Jito de Escarandi, 179km, with Alto de San Martín de Huerces (cat.2/cat.3), Mirador del Fito (cat.2), Puerto del Torno (cat.3), Balcón de Carriles (cat.3), Alto de la Torneria (cat.2), Alto del Ortigueiro (cat.3), Jito de Escarandi (cat.ESP)). Which I can live with, I guess. It's certainly no worse than recent stages to Covadonga or Angliru.

 

[Red Rick]

Why do I get the idea you know like every road in and out of Europe?

This thread's awesome

 

[Libertine Seguros]

14. Salto de la Cabra (Cantabria)
El Jito's evil twin, or, the Cantabrian Crostis

Not a very long transfer to get to this one; we are still in the Picos de Europa, and in fact as the crow flies the summit of Jito de Escarandi is just 4km from the summit today - though there is no way for a road bike to connect the two. And while that climb was classic, steep-but-not-too-steep and grinding up and down through the gradients like traditional classics like Lagos de Covadonga, today we're back in the Angelo Zomegnan realm with the destructive Salto de la Cabra, a brutal ascent on the Cantabrian side of the Picos de Europa, whose evocative name translates as "the goat's leap".

Again, we're on a somewhat short climb to be considered a genuine ESP-category climb. But what Salto de la Cabra lacks in real length, it makes up in brute steepness, being as it is 10,3km @ 9,8%. Once more, this is a one-approach climb; the only road junction after the first kilometre of the climb is a dead-end road to another uphill hamlet; once you've got out of La Hermida, the only way out of this sufferfest is to pull a U-turn. And you can't say that the climb doesn't give you fair warning, as right from the word go it hits you smack in the face with 1,5km at 10% (a number we will become familiar with). However, the climb is at this point nice and wide so we will probably see the main contenders spread across the road together before long. Afterwards the climb does ease up a little (the only time it does so in its entire length), passing a mirador and continuing on at a totally not-unmanageable 4% for a kilometre through impressive vistasbefore it starts to get very, very serious indeed.

Things ramp up after this brief respite, immediately hitting lacets at up to 14% as the riders are sent tumbling into the (joint) toughest kilometre of the climb, averaging 11,8% at the start of a 3km stretch that ends in the village of Bejes. Following on from the kind of climbs that can lead into Salto de la Cabra, a finish in Bejes (leaving us with a climb of 5,8km @ 8,7%) would not be at all unreasonable (more on those later though). However, this climb has much more to offer than that, which can be seen with some of the ramps in the village itself. This stretch also includes the steepest point in the climb, with a gradient reaching 15%. This is a sign of just how consistently brutal this climb is, given that at almost 2/3 distance the average gradient is 8,7%, the total gradient is nearly 10%, so we are consistently above that from here on in, and yet the climb never tops 15%.

As you probably guessed from that, therefore, the final 4,5km are especially nasty, and indeed their average gradient is a muscle-cramping 11,1%. Just to make matters worse, now the road narrows down and the tarmac becomes far more troublesome - from Bejes down to La Hermida the tarmac needs to be maintained for the townfolk to use, but up here there's little use for the funds needed for a well-maintained road. A logical point to use for a stage finish would be the widening out at Collado de la Hoja; this gives us 8km at 9%, with the final 2km at 11%, and would certainly befit Unipublic. As with all of the suggestions here, of course, most of the race caravan would have to stay in Bejes or Quintana, as there is not much room anywhere further up. Also the road gets pretty damn treacherous so we are almost certainly talking motos only, à la Kronplatz or Monte Zoncolan.

After the Collado de la Hoja, the gradients actually get even tougher - the last 2,3km come at 11,6% - the kind of gradients that would make you assume that everything would be left until the last 2km, had the climb not been so tough throughout. This one will just split people apart through attrition, even before we get to the final kilometre, which is spent on our good friend hormigón. Even the smallest amount of race trappings such as the podiums etc. will probably have to congregate around the flattening out at the farmhouses at El Dobrillo; the actual summit Salto de la Cabra is pretty much where the concrete runs out (the tarmac having run out before that, of course) and the route up to the Refugio de Andara becomes, perhaps appropriate given the name of the climb, an absolute goat track. Descending from this takes us to the summit of Jito de Escarandi, but you need both a mountain bike and nerves of reinforced steel to attempt that. The narrow tarmac paths and scary drops beside the road were worrying enough before the tarmac ended, let alone after.

So, how to take advantage of this brute in the Vuelta? Well, like its twin in Asturias, we do have the problem that Salto de la Cabra dwarfs every climb that can feasibly be attached to it. However, I am sure that most of you remember this epic Vuelta stage. That double act of climbs in the middle, Ozalba and Collado de la Hoz, back directly onto Salto de la Cabra; there would be absolutely no flat - the village at the bottom of Hoz is La Hermida, the base of today's hell-climb. You could throw Collada Carmona onto the start of that group, for a final 60km with absolutely no flat, like this - however the other climbs would all be cat.2 or so (Carmona 4,9km @ 7,2%, Ozalba 5,7km @ 6,8%, Hoz 7,7km @ 5,5%, then Salto de la Cabra 10,3km @ 9,8%), so while legs would be softened up before the final climb, it certainly wouldn't see the same kind of racing from afar as Contador's unexpected epic raid.

But with a final climb as brutal as this, it could take a long time to complete this final 10km anyway, and there's no way this one doesn't open gaps.

 

[Libertine Seguros]

15. Collado del Alguacil (Andalucía)
The Sierra Nevada's hidden treasure

The Sierra Nevada range of mountains, down in Andalucía, have historically featured very heavily in the Vuelta. But despite how commonly used they are, Unipublic are still making "discoveries" in the region. The traditional ascent of the climb, such as that seen in 2010, while very long (over 20km), is seeing its wide open, beautifully tarmacked roads at 5% becoming too easy for the modern péloton unless set up with some killer predecessors. In 2009, they elected to climb to Sierra Nevada via a new side, actually a new pair of sides - they first climbed the Alto de Monachíl (aka El Purche, or the Collado del Muerto), which had been in and of itself the final climb of the day in 2006, then shortly after that joined the main Sierra Nevada road, elected to take a second, steeper route via Collado de las Sabinas. The result? In 2013, the riders tackled the Alto de Hazallanas, basically climbing to El Dornajo, which is the point where the two roads from Granada (the main one that linked to El Purche, and the one from Güéjar Sierra) meet, and the two roads up to Pradollano diverge from one another. This year, they have discovered another short, steep climb to the south called Cumbres Verdes.

Sound confusing? Here, thanks to the PRC guys, is a map of the routes to the summit, colour-coded. Route 1 is the traditional Sierra Nevada route. Route 2 is the sector from El Dornajo to Pradollano, which is steeper, and was used in 2009. Route 3 is El Purche (so in 2009 they climbed section 3, part of section 1 then section 2). Route 4 is El Dornajo via Hotel Duque; route 5 is the steeper version of the same route, El Dornajo via Haza Llana, as seen in the 2013 Vuelta.

Starting from Pinos Genil, Collado del Alguacil is 17,2km @ 6,6%. This would be a worthy ESP climb in many circumstances anyway, but the fact that this climb features some descent and has a brutal second half measuring 8,5km @ 9,8% (the final 7,8km measures 10% on the button) throws us down the gauntlet on this one. In theory, you could cut it in half and only do that steep bit, but that would leave us with a descent of those scary Haza Llana slopes, which I can't honestly say I would recommend. The first half of the climb is shared with the climb to El Dornajo that we saw in the 2013 edition of La Vuelta, so a positive is that we do still get to see the stunning sights at the Embalse de Canales, which comes early on the route, as the road snakes alongside it. At this point the roads are still wide, pretty and in perfect condition as we head into the picture perfect mountain town of Güéjar Sierra. We arrive there after 7km of climbing, most of which has been very manageable; only one kilometre at 7,7% has been what you'd call serious climbing; only 3 ramps of 10% or more, and a kilometre of flat has broken up the climbing. There's even a downhill ramp & some more flat and rolling terrain as we head through the town.

But then, things get nasty. The road suddenly ramps up to a violent 20%, literally almost immediately after leaving the main road (which becomes the El Dornajo road). And while it cannot sustain such a brutal gradient for long, it signifies a violent end to the ceasefire; no more will the gradient flatten out, and the riders can wave goodbye once and for all to anything other than punishing climbing for the last 8,5km of suffering. Because of the similarly steep final stretches, PRC compares this to the legendary Col du Granon, though if anything the final stretch of Alguacil is very slightly steeper (Granon is longer and slightly tougher overall, however). Other popular comparisons for this brutal closing stretch are Passo Giau from Caprile, and - though the climb is much shorter and Alguacil only has half the false flat sections - the legendary Italian side of the Colle Agnello.

For a while, the road is narrow, but it isn't long before things widen out again, and the conditions improve until we are on pristine mountain tarmac again.

Though the first 3km of this part of the ascent average just under 9%, they do ramp up to 16%, which ensures riders will have a bit of suffering in their legs before we start seeing steep switchbacks and the average gradients get into the double figures. With 5km remaining, we are thrown into a kilometre averaging 10,7%, and it's almost all at this steepness - very consistent and only once getting up as high as 14%. The next two kilometres average 9,9%, but they throw in a bit more inconsistency and ramps that can be used as the platform for attacking, getting up to 14% three times and also once as far as 16%. The steepest of all is kept for the final two kilometres; these average 10,7% and we also find, in our penultimate kilometre, the toughest slopes of this part of the climb, getting up as far as 18%, which not only illustrates the comparative relentlessness of the climb, but also is likely to hurt far more when it's considered that there is likely to be the factor of heat to take into the equation in southern Spain at the time of year they'll be there, and also that much of this climb is along the southern ridge of the mountains, so very exposed to the sun.

(once more, I have plundered the resources of APM's Martín Cerván for several photos here, since he has several phenomenal galleries of Andalucían climbs)

While there is no ski station, cable car or anything at the summit of the Collado del Alguacil to house the trappings of the race, there is a nice plateau that offers a lot of wide open dusty-surfaced space where the tarmac runs out that can be used to hold the race. After all, though there aren't buildings or platforms here, there is more than there is at Ancares or Cuitu Negru, both of which have been able to hold La Vuelta. And it's not like the few dwellings at El Dornajo paid for the stage last year either - Güéjar Sierra did. And as long as Güéjar Sierra wants to pay for La Vuelta, Collado del Alguacil should be a possibility.

Including it is pretty easy. Even if Javier Guillén does not want a stage that spends 200km looping up and around various climbs in the exact same area around Granada and the Sierra Nevada, so restricts what we can do, there are still options. The Collado del Alguacil has long been a popular climb with traceurs such as myself (although it does not appear in any of my three Vueltas published on this site to date, nor in the fourth iteration I scrapped. My fifth Vuelta is undecided on the subject), owing to its extreme difficulty in the closing stages and the ease with which it can be connected to other great climbs.

This is the 2013 Vuelta stage to El Dornajo; bear in mind you could easily descend El Dornajo and put Collado del Alguacil on the end of that; or just straight up replace Dornajo with Alguacil. By far the most popular option is to include the climb of Collado de las Sabinas, i.e. route 5 (El Dornajo por Haza Llana) and route 2 (Collado de las Sabinas por El Dornajo) from that map above, then descent the traditional route of Sierra Nevada back to Pinos Genil. This enables options such as Sabinas/Pradollano - Granada - El Purche - Alguacil, or, more commonly, seeing Sabinas transition directly to Alguacil, placing that brutal Sierra Nevada climb of 23km @ 6,4% topping 40km from the finish and descending right into the base of Alguacil. For the truly sadistic traceurs (that's me, if you're wondering) there is El Purche - Sabinas - Alguacil. Mirador del Cabra Montés is often used when coming from the south, because it's a bit closer, but for a longer stage or if not going the super brutal route, Haza del Lino from earlier in this thread could work as well if they start somewhere like Adra or Motril, which would give you an ESP opening climb, a cat.1 to El Purche, an ESP in Sabinas and another ESP to finish on Alguacil - arguably the hardest stage the Vuelta would ever have put out.

 

[icefire]

Why do I get the idea you know like every road in and out of Europe?

This thread's awesome

He even knows about roads that do not and will never exist

Now, seriously, thanks LS for resurrecting the thread, but I think you went too far with the idea of having a loop around Bulnes before Jito de Escarandi. Just have a look at pictures of the landscape between Poncebos and Bulnes through La Canal del Tejo here and you'll understand why they plan to build the road through Pandebano.

As of today the only way to get to Bulnes on a motor vehicle is a mountain railway that goes through a tunnel:

http://www.alsa.es/en/buy-and-schedules/regional/asturias/bulnes-funicular-railway/

 

[Libertine Seguros]

Ah, I must have misinterpreted the article I was using talking about the road planning options for Esla 2000. I thought they were planning to put access between Sotres and Bulnes from that direction for the purposes of skiing, to improve connections, not to put them there in the first place - therefore I assumed that Bulnes had a road connection to Poncebos. My mistake.

16. Presa de Llauset, Aragón
And coming out of the darkness...

The N-230 is one of the Spanish Pyrenées main longitudinal nodal roads. It begins in Lleida and traces the valley boundary between Aragón and Cataluña for much of its distance. It passes into a tunnel heading into Vielha, well known to the Vuelta for transporting riders away from stages to climbs such as Pla de Beret, and eventually crosses into France, where it becomes the N125 to Montréjeau. Few passes are actually on this road, which is mainly in the valleys; however a great many climbs link up to it - Port de Balès (sort of) and Col de Menté in France, and Col de Portillon, Guardader d'Arres, Boï-Taull, Puerto Bonansa, Laspaulés and Creu de Perves all branching off of it at various points. And the best of them all (in Spain at least, since if you count Port de Balès that's probably the winner) is this grinding climb up to the dam holding in the Embalse de Llauset.

The access road that leads up to the dam was paved in 2005, and branches off to the west at a crossing at the village of Seret. However, at this point we have already been going uphill for some five kilometres on the N-230, and from the village of Bono as shown here, the climb up to the dam clocks in at 17,2km @ 6,6%, which is some pretty serious climbing in anybody's book. It is a lot more consistent in its gradients than a lot of the climbs I have included in my tour around Spain's hors catégorie summits; it has more in common with, say, Puerto de la Cubilla and Coll de Pal as climbs than it does with, say, Collado del Alguacil or Monte Oiz. There's no stupendously Purito-tastic ramps (the maximum achieved on the climb is just 14%, which is quite low for these Spanish monoliths), there's no hormigón. But this is definitely an ESP climb. No doubt about it.

The first few kilometres are, as you might expect given that they are on such an important nodal road, on perfect quality tarmac on wide roads. This means that this first few kilometres will probably be tempo climbing, allowing the bunch to remove just the weakest and the camera ample time to pick up the sights, such as the many waterfalls that litter the mountainside. When the riders reach the village of Senet, they take a very sharp left-hand turn onto the road into the village of Aneto, and this is where the going gets tougher. While the steepest kilometre of the initial part of the climb had been at a not inconsiderable 7,5%, the very straight and wide nature of the road will have made gaining real separation difficult. That is no longer the case once we leave the main road and take on the access road, which chimes in with 12,2km @ 7,2%, which would probably have to be reduced to a cat.1 if we were accessing from the north on the basis that the length has been cut down by a third even if the climbing to this point hasn't been too brutal.

The first thing we do on the access road is enter the stunning Parque Natural Posets-Maladeta, home to the Maladeta Massif. Cycling fans only know the other side of this massif, from the Valle Benasque and the climb to Cerler. The second thing we do is enter the village of Aneto, named after the behemoth that watches over it, the Pic d'Aneto, which at 3.404m is the highest peak in the Pyrenées. We're heading towards it as the landscape grows increasingly desolate.

Almost immediately after leaving Aneto, the tarmac quality disappears through the floor. It is really worn, rough, and inconsistent. Think Monte Abantos in 2007, but like that for all of its 10-11 kilometres. This is also where our single steepest kilometre comes, right away as soon as the tarmac quality falls away - 8,6%, including a 300m stretch at 10% which also includes our peak gradient of 14%. Therefore this is likely to be where the group really thins out, and riding on the front pulling the group in these conditions is not likely to be fun. After 4km or so there is a bit of respite in a bit of false flat, around the hamlet of Nestuí, but this doesn't last long and we're back to going uphill at improved gradients - mostly around 8% - shortly afterward. We start snaking through tunnels and taking on spectacular lacetsas we get higher and higher up, and finally start to bring into play that oh-so-rare Vuelta problem, that of altitude. We pass the Réfugio de Llauset with 3km remaining, and shortly afterwards we pass the 2.000m mark - we're climbing all the way to 2.193, which is very high for La Vuelta.

However, there are two distinct problems with putting a stage finish at Presa de Llauset which may well mean that its lack of use by Unipublic can be understood. Firstly, there is the fact that much of the last 1,5km take place in a tunnel. This tunnel is well lit and more or less straight, so it isn't really a hazard, but it is perhaps a bit too long to place so close to the finish; it emerges directly to a parking area on the edge of the dam; I would however traverse the dam to the opposite side where there is more space to put the finish; this introduces the second problem, that of safety. If we want to be able to see the climactic moments if more than one rider comes to the end together, they may need to ride across the top of the dam. Which is fine; there's room... but policing hundreds of fans along that kind of route could be really, really troublesome, and the consequences of an error catastrophic. This could be resolved by having the finish after the tunnel, but would rob us of the final moments if images from the tunnel are breaking up.

(photo from a Hungarian cyclotourist's blog. I'd love to recommend it, as it looks really interesting and he takes on some really nice and unusual climbs, unfortunately I can't read any Hungarian)

To bring it to professional racing, you'd almost certainly have to approach this one from Aragón. To approach from Catalunya you can only have lead-in climbs if you come via the Túnel de Vielha, which at 12,5km @ 5,2% is arguably cat.1 or cat.2, and would leave you with about 9km gentle downhill to lead into the final 12km of Presa de Llauset. This would enable you to connect it to the classic Port de la Bonaigua, which at 16km at 5,7% was classified ESP in 2008, although I'd argue it should just be cat.1; it maxes out at 10% and is much more consistent and in better condition than Llauset. From Aragón you have the option of doing the entire climb, and though there would be a small amount of false flat before the climb starts, you do have a choice of lead-in climb, depending on direction (I anticipate stages being from somewhere like Jacá, Sabiñánigo or Huesca), between the Coll de Fadas (10,8km, 5,3%) and the Puerto de Bonansa (10,8km, 3,7%). If the Sahún paving project ever gets completed, you could then have a badass final 100k with Sahún (ESP), Fadas (1/2) and Llauset (ESP). Unfortunately, genuine multi-ESP climb stages in Aragón are but a pipe dream at present...

 

[Libertine Seguros]

17. Alto de Trobaniello (Asturias)
A dirty little secret

Vuelta stages such as this one in 2011 have meant that the Puerto de la Ventana has become part of the standard vocabulary of the Vuelta, although normally its far easier southern face is climbed, and usually (over-)categorised 2, as it is well placed to introduce riders to the Asturian classic climbs - descending it into Teverga, you can turn west to San Lorenzo or east to La Cobertoria. Its northern face, from Teverga, is a very, very respectable 17,0km @ 6,3%, however we aren't here to talk about the long and tricky grind of the known faces of the climb... we're here to talk about it's immediate neighbour, the Trobaniello side, which links almost perfectly to Ventana in much the same way as we say the 2003 Giro climbed Fauniera when in fact it climbed its close neighbour the Colle d'Esischie. The Alto de Trobaniello is 3,3km of false flat from the Puerto de la Ventana, and also 23 metres higher in altitude. It is steeper, almost as long, and way, way tougher. It's a brute.

Although some figures have it slightly longer at a slightly lower gradient, depending on where they put the comienza puerto sign, Altimetrias Asturias have the most detailed profile of the climb, seen above, which marks it out at 16,0km @ 7,0%. These figures are pretty serious business in anyone's language, but the big thing to remember with Trobaniello is that half of it is on sterrato. Hey, back when I first introduced the hormigón I said that Spain didn't really have the option of cobbles like the Tour has on occasion, and that the Giro had pre-empted it on the sterrato, but I never said Spain didn't have sterrato, just that the Giro was there first. And while Trobaniello is not as steep as, say, Kronplatz, as shown on this comparison between the two, it is much longer, has more sterrato, and is very much a bona fide ESP category climb all of its own.

The first part of the climb is fairly unassuming, on fine tarmac through typical Asturian mountain villages. It really eases the riders in as well, with the first 6km, the only ones on tarmac, averaging a mere 4,8%, with the last of these the steepest, at 6,9%. After that, however, apart from a couple of short stretches, it is all sterrato, and it's getting ever steeper.

The stretch of climbing that comes once the sterrato begins totals in at 10km @ 8,3%. For reference, this in and of itself almost matches the stats of the Puerto de San Lorenzo, one of Spain's most iconic climbs and one that is regularly given ESP classification at La Vuelta. But even within this, the gradients find time to gradually turn up the heat. The first 5km of sterrato average 6,9%, which tells you just how tough the final few kilometres are. Another comparison that can be made is to Izoard, although the Casse Déserte isn't on agonisingly steep sterrato. A drawback to the use of this climb is, however, that Asturias is one of the wettest parts of Spain, and I can imagine roads like these get pretty treacherous in heavy rain.

After these 5km comes our first stretch of respite from the dirt roads for the riders - but I wasn't lying when I said that there was no more tarmac. Instead, presumably to give people travelling the route a bit more grip as the road ramps up to its toughest yet, a slope of 18%, there is a brief patch of hormigón; the second stretch of hormigón also matches up to the steepest ramp on the entire climb, which comes with 3km remaining - a savage 20% awaits. The final few kilometres are truly, truly brutal, a horrific 5km @ 9,7% which, when you bear in mind the surface, is absolutely a killer and will likely tear a race apart. The steepest kilometre is between 12,5km and 13,5km into the climb (so starting at 3,5km from the summit) - this averages out at no less than 12,7%! The final 2km are all at about 9%, but the damage will no doubt by then have been done, so the riders will hardly be en masse as they pass the Capilla de Trobaniello and enter the final ramps of hormigón. It's a lonely world up here, before the gradual downhill eventually leads us, back on tarmac albeit in bad condition, to the junction at Ventana (another photo stolen from Marco Montero).

With its location being in the middle of southern Asturias, there are many, many options for how to include Trobaniello in La Vuelta. However, owing to a lack of significant ski stations or settlements in the area, turning it into a decisive climb may require a bit more work or imagination. Certainly, the climb could be very easily slotted into this year's queen stage; the descent from La Cobertoria now that the Vuelta is finally climbing its toughest side takes the riders right to the base of the Alto de Trobaniello, and as we already know the scenic descent from the Puerto de la Ventana takes riders right to the base of San Lorenzo. This gives us a final 110km identical to this fantasy route, which would surely be the toughest Vuelta stage ever (Cobertoria 10,2km @ 8,5% at 90km out, Trobaniello 16,0km @ 7,0% cresting 65km out, San Lorenzo 11,2km @ 8,0% 29km out, La Farrapona 18,7km @ 5,8%).

Personally, however, I think that it would be better in such a stage if, instead of finishing on a fourth arguably ESP climb (Cobertoria East and San Lorenzo East could both be arguably cat.1 or ESP depending on Unipublic's mood), the finish was instead at Valle de Lago, a shorter climb from Pola de Somiedo totalling 8km @ 6,1%; while it does feature a couple of very steep kilometres of its own, it is noticeably easier than its predecessors, and brings their summits closer to the finishing line, hopefully enticing attacks on the earlier climbs, especially as the steep slopes of Cobertoria and the brutal sterrato on Trobaniello would surely have decimated domestique fields; I'm not anticipating something as great as Rifugio Gardeccia in the 2011 Giro, but I'm all for trying to replicate that type of layout. Another option would be a false flat finish in Pola de Somiedo, like this, which would put Trobaniello cresting around 50km from the finish.

If Guillén and co. wanted to get a bit creative, however, they could make Trobaniello the real key climb of the stage by placing it just 17km from the end of the stage, with a finale like this; using the car parking facilities at the summit of La Farrapona that has enabled them to use it as a summit finish in 2011 and 2014, they could place the finish here and climb it from the Leonese side straight after Puerto de la Ventana, doing a decent Finestre-Sestriere impression; the bad news is that this side of La Farrapona is also unpaved dirt roads, which literally only ends at the summit, with the last 2km being at 11%. This would give a final climb of 5km @ 7,9%, with the last 4km sin asfalto. Probably a bit much.

However, if they were willing to use both stretches without padding it out for the race finish, as after all Finestre doesn't get used as a race finish, they could descend from there to Pola de Somiedo and finish at Valle de Lago from that direction, such as on this rather optimistic route that also features the roadless side of the Puerto de la Cubilla. There is probably not enough room at the Puerto de la Ventana to make Trobaniello a mountaintop finish in its own right, and while there is a small car park at the summit of the Puerto de San Lorenzo (which would mean Trobaniello cresting 36km out) you'd have to think, if they could finish there they would have done so by now. Still, the potential combo of Cobertoria E, Trobaniello and San Lorenzo E back to back must surely have race designers salivating at the prospect of a truly epic GT stage.

 

[icefire]

Can't see Unipublic going to unpaved roads like this one. They engaged the authorities to throw some tarmac in Cuitu Negru, but that was a ski station. Trobaniello is in a natural park and that makes things such as paving a road much more difficult.

4 climbs to go. I'm waiting to see something in the Land of Fuentes