Now, I love my local trails as much as anyone, but sometimes you just have to go and do something different and, well, bigger. And if you can do it somewhere where you can get good cheese and wine, then that's a bonus. So thanks to the joys of budget air travel (and especially Easyjet's policy of carrying bikes for free) we buggered off to Chamonix for the weekend.

It was only me that was taking full advantage of Easyjet's facilities: the other three were hiring bikes. So it was a bit of a pisser when we found that the shops in Chamonix no longer hire out bikes to anyone who's planning on going near the cable cars. Nice.

Fortunately the rapidly approaching shadow of Doctor Fuckup was banished with a quick call to Evasion in les Gets, who had bikes in stock ready for us to thrash for the weekend. Hurrah! - even if we did lose a morning's riding. And even if, on arriving in les Gets, we found that the only lift running was Pleney. So we've got one resort that has plenty of lifts running but won't hire bikes, and one that'll hire bikes but only has one lift running. Sweet. Maybe next year we'll go one week into the season, eh?

On the second day, we actually got to ride Chamonix. And, just as you suspect by looking at the steep sides of the valley, it's great. Sweet technical trails - steep, rooty and rocky.

In the afternoon, suitably refulled with a Super Poco Loco sandwich (that'll be a huge roll stuffed with three burgers, bacon, cheese, onions, salad, and chips) we set off for the Flegere gondola. And as we rolled up, my crank fell off. Yippee.

So off I scooted into Chamonix, crank in hand, looking for a replacement ISIS bolt. And despite rummaging round the spares boxes in the shops, no joy. So that was me on the bench for the rest of the afternoon. Poo.

Nights were spent at various restaurants and finished at The Pub (Chamonix being one of those places where it's a slight challenge to find a proper French bar, and The Pub seemed like a decent chilled out gaff with a decent range of booze). Strangely enough, despite mixing drinks to a degree that wasn't entirely sensible, we managed three nights of drinking without hangovers. Down to the mountain air maybe?

And very enjoyable company it was too. The sight of a grown man beating himself around the head, trying to remove a coin which wasn't attached to it, will stay with me for some time.

On the Sunday we called back to Evasion, who sorted me instantly with a crank bolt, and we hit the Mont Chery black run - a legendary descent, one of the finest in the area. It was wet, and lots of sliding the rear end round the bermed corners was the order of the day. Awesome, and a great way to round off a great weekend.

So there you go. A completely duff trip, I couldn't possibly recommend going again.

Well, ok then. But we'll all take our own bikes next time...