But of course, we also know of the abundance of stunning mountain passes scattered throughout the country.
I want to skip these well-known mountain passes and discover a different side of this country. The Jura Mountains are like the appetizer to the main course of the high Alps. The Jura stretches across the western part of Switzerland and into a portion of France.
The mountains are lower there, you won't find eternal snow, but you are offered a wonderfully peaceful and diverse region in return. In this lesser-known region, I will also be seeking out the smaller, more adventurous roads, tailor-made for that adventure bike of yours.
The route starts at the border between France and Switzerland, where you cross the Doubs River from the French village of Goumois via an old stone bridge, entering Switzerland almost unnoticed. A quiet, winding road leads me to Saignelégier. A slightly larger road leads me farther to Les Cerlatez. A little further on, I immediately find myself on Switzerland's smallest roads. A layer of asphalt barely a car wide. That's a pleasant start!
The morning sun still has to work hard to warm the world; a few brave wisps of mist still drift between the trees and fields. It gives the whole scene a beautiful, slightly mystical atmosphere. Autumn is already clearly here.
From Les Breuleux, I can cautiously open the throttle a bit further on a winding forest road finished with a near-perfect layer of asphalt. I still have to be a bit careful with the throttle, though, because the glistening wet patches under the trees warn me to keep my composure. Although the full 72 hp of my Husqvarna isn't exactly the most impressive thing.
The perfect asphalt soon gives way to a less clean and more worn-out road surface. Les Bragnenets, Derrière Pertin, Les Vieux-Prés - they are a handful of anonymous little villages that follow one another before I ride up Montagne de Cernier. Here and there, I catch glimpses of the high Alpine peaks in the distance once I reach the top of this modest mountain.
A little farther on, near La Corbatière, the GPS directs me onto a gravel road. I'm a bit nervous about what the rest of this road will bring. Although my Husky weighs barely more than a hefty mountain bike, it's equipped with super sporty Bridgestone S23 tires. They stick perfectly to the asphalt but won’t perform nearly as well on unpaved roads. The route runs across a high plateau with barely a gradient, and the gravel is beautifully maintained, Swiss style. So, no problem!
I'm happily riding off the layer of dust on my tires on the Route de la Combe Girard and the connecting Route 170. A wonderful feast of curves! Then I'm back to turning the front wheel on the country's smallest roads. Road 149 leads me past cow dung and mud ruts to the village of Fleurier. Behind the church, the road climbs steeply up the hill via a series of hairpin bends. The road is narrow, very narrow, and strewn with branches, leaves, and mud. As if riding on eggshells, I ride steeply uphill with kid gloves. I have the entire road to myself, and I'm not too upset about it, because I'm not exactly looking forward to meeting oncoming traffic on some hairpin bend on this little road.
Once at the top, I'm treated to a phenomenal skyline. A magnificent view spanning the entire horizon, with snow-capped Alpine peaks in the distance. What a vista!
I give both man and machine a moment to catch their breath from the concentrated climb and simply enjoy the view. Then, with its deep rumble, I give the Husqvarna its spurs again and head back down the valley towards Bullet and St. Croix.
I skim the French border but stay just inside the Swiss border and can accelerate a bit more on a main road towards Bretonnières and Vallobre. Lac de Joux comes into view, and on the shores of this impressive lake, I can take my helmet off for a moment. A coffee on a terrace overlooking the lake in the glorious October sun; it feels good. With the caffeine boost re-energizing me, I'm ready to ride the last stretch of the day. The roads are a bit narrower here, but there's no sign of any traffic. Just past Le Brassus, I turn onto the Route de Marchairuz, and it's time to enjoy it again. A perfect layer of asphalt covers a road that meanders capriciously through the Swiss forests. This is fun!
The end of the day is in sight, and there's certainly no overabundance of hotels and guesthouses in this region. I'm already quite close to Lake Geneva, where there's certainly a lot of tourism, but this is tourism for people with a bigger wallet than mine. In the village of St. Georges (just off the route), I find a cozy, no-nonsense inn. Affordable by Swiss standards, with a pleasant atmosphere. In the evening, the villagers drop in for a bite to eat, a beer, and, above all, lively conversation. It has a French rather than Swiss atmosphere.
At breakfast the next morning, the distant mountain landscape is completely hidden behind a thick layer of fog and clouds. It's considerably cooler than yesterday, and with the top button of my motorcycle jacket fastened, I ride out of the awakening village. I pick up the route again, and the GPS directs me along a wet, misty forest road towards Bière. Even between the fields, it remains gray and foggy, and the next few kilometres are a little less interesting than yesterday. You notice that this is a more densely populated area, and unfortunately, some villages have to be passed through. The alternation of main roads and small field lanes remains a constant this morning, but the cold, gray weather makes things a bit more difficult. It's a shame about the thick layer of fog over Lake Geneva, because the magnificent view I had yesterday of the Alps is completely hidden behind a curtain of gray.
I'm riding just north of Lausanne and, a little farther on, I catch a few glimpses of sunshine. The roads also become narrower and more winding. From Châtel-Saint-Denis, the real fun begins. I'm presented with even more bends and a steep climb, and I settle in. Once I reach Blonay, where I join the Route des Pleiades, things change. The road is once again only the width of a car, soaking wet, and strewn with leaves.
The Route de Fayaux, followed by the Route des Mouts, is a series of tight bends and a steep climb. This challenging road festival continues all the way to Caux. Here, I catch my breath from the adventurous ride. I thought I had my heated grips on, but no, my hands are sweating from this incredibly exciting ride I've just completed.
Here in Caux, the pink line on my GPS directs me onto another narrow road. The road is closed in case of snow, I read on the sign at the beginning. It's not that far yet, so with a little bit of gas, I ride up the mountain. The Route de Sonchaux is, if possible, even more challenging than the previous section. This is truly an exciting ride! Fog, a soaking wet road strewn with leaves, a very narrow strip of asphalt, and no fencing along this road, which sometimes has some truly deep drops. Feeling quite wet and in my socks, I ride up the mountain, hoping not to encounter too many oncoming traffic.
Once at the top, I'm above the clouds. But unfortunately, there's no view to be seen. The entire surrounding area remains hidden behind the low cloud cover. Via a series of hairpin bends, which are thankfully a bit wider than before, I arrive in Villeneuve; a city situated on the shores of Lake Geneva.
The fog has vanished; the streets are busy... what a contrast to the past hour. A fuel stop, and I can begin the last kilometres on Swiss soil. Via Morgins, along the Route de France on a perfectly paved mountain road to France!
I'm truly in the Alps now, enjoying the beautiful road in the glorious autumn sunshine!
The colours are stunning, and the tourist crowds have completely disappeared. A little too much so in places like Châtel, Abondance, Montriond, etc. It's completely deserted here. All the shops, restaurants, hotels, etc. are closed. The summer season is over, and it's still too early for winter sports. I finally find a hotel that's open and where I can park the motorcycle in the (empty) garage. It's going to be quiet here tonight.
After that peaceful night and an equally peaceful breakfast in a nearly empty breakfast room, the bike and I can get out of the shed again. Today, the real mountains are on the agenda. I'm staying at an altitude of 1100 m, and the sun is shining beautifully over the autumn landscape. However, I've only been on the road a few kilometres when those low clouds appear again, blocking all visibility. The road winds further down, and I don't let the cold and fog get to me, just giving it a little extra gas to warm up. The plan is to ride a bit further south, but first, I have to take some connecting roads. Via Cluses to Sallanches, it's just a main road. The stretch further on to Flumet is a bit more pleasant; there are plenty of bends!
In Flumet, I take a tiny road towards Notre Dame de Bellecombe. Damn, I can't see a thing because of the fog. If this continues all day, it's going to be an intense day. But as if the weather gods heard my cursing, the sky gradually clears after half an hour. From Les Saisies and then the stunningly beautiful D123 to Villard-sur-Doron, I'm suddenly riding in the sunshine. And that same sun warms my somewhat chilly hands and body on the way to Beaufort. It's all a series of the tiniest mountain roads; love it!
And it's such a wonderfully peaceful drive. That was my intention for this trip from the start: away from the flattened and overcrowded mountain passes. Those well-known mountain passes are fantastic roads, of course, but sometimes the heavy traffic is a bit much for me. I prefer these small, undiscovered roads that you have all to yourself. The asphalt isn't as smooth as a billiard table, but in my opinion, it offers a much more authentic mountain experience.
Near Beaufort, another gem of a small road heads towards Arêches. From there, I continue to Lac de Saint-Guerin along another wonderful winding road. Lac de Saint-Guerin, a reservoir surrounded by impressive mountain scenery, is the end of the paved road. I take a break at a small parking lot and then restart the motorbike for a trip along a road I'd had on my bucket list for a while.
The Route du Cormet d’Arêches initially starts as a narrow, bumpy asphalt road but quickly turns into a dirt track. The surface is hard, and there are some larger stones scattered throughout, but it's not too challenging. Also, because the road climbs and descends only slightly, it's perfectly manageable on my motorcycle with road tires. But what a wonderful experience! I let the majestic landscape sink in. I savour the feeling of being completely alone here in the midst of this rugged Alpine landscape (a bit daunting, too). For me, this is pure, essential motorcycling!
Around the Alpage de Plan Pichu chalet, the road transitions back to asphalt. Don't expect a track-worthy surface; it's simply paved.
I descend again through a pleasant series of hairpin bends. And then suddenly a sign appears: "Route barrée at 900 m." Would I really have to go all the way back? There are no side roads. It's this road and nothing else. That would be quite a surprise! I drive past the sign anyway to see if I can continue or not.
A bit farther on, some workers are repairing a bridge with a crane. The bridge is indeed completely blocked. However, a small detour has been provided. A ditch has been filled in with large boulders, and via the berm, which had been flattened by the crane's tracks, I can carefully get back on the road.
I continue along the narrow strip of asphalt to Pré Bérard, where I join the D86 to Montméry.
Another wonderfully small, unknown winding road amidst an impressive Alpine landscape.
This road takes me to Bourg Saint-Maurice. I sit down on a sunny terrace and turn off my GPS. This is the end of the route. I'm close to the Italian border, and from here, of course, there are 1001 more options for venturing further into the mountains. But for me, the journey ends here. And what a trip!
Download the GPX files from this trip:
Words & Photography: Peter De Jongh
