Hi, This is Nancy. I'm guest blogging this one...

Like your favorite series on Netflix or Apple TV, I'm releasing this in episodes — one day at a time.

How many episodes in this season? 14 total. That’s 40% more fun than your typical 10-episode season.

The Corsica GT20

So, the GT20 – the Grande Traversée or Great Crossing (I have no idea what the signifies). What's this and why Corsica?

Admittedly Corsica was not first pick. The original plan, in the wake of the wonder of the Tour du Mont Blanc (TMB) was to hike the Alta Via 1 (AV1) in the Dolomites on the recommendation of an Italian couple we met on the TMB. Also, we were too late. The AV1 has far less infrastructure than the TMB so January (which was early for booking the TMB) proved about 6-months too late. So, now what...

We looked to Bike France a tour company and explored their offerings. We considered mountain biking from Chamonix to Zermatt. But this would be similar terrain to the TMB. Then something caught my eye. They offered a trip to Corsica, a French island in the Mediterranean. I had heard Corsica mentioned in passing, mostly by the French - who refer to it as l'Île de Beauté—the Island of Beauty. Corsica is where jagged mountains meet turquoise coves, and where centuries-old villages cling defiantly to cliffsides.

Note: Though politically part of France, Corsica retains its own fierce identity, with a culture shaped by a unique blend of French and Italian influences—and a language all its own.

Long story short we set our eyes on Corsica and did a bit of digging. Turns out Corsica is host to the GR20, alegendary, brutally tough footpath that cuts across the island’s mountain spine. It is billed as the hardest through-hike in Europe. Thanks, but no. But Corsica is also a favorite for cyclists and I came across the GR20's newly hatched (2019) sibling, the GT20. Corsicans designed the GT20 route to showcase Corsica’s untamed interior, away from the more touristed coastal roads, I have little doubt Corsica’s tourism board designed not just as a sporting challenge, but also as a way to breathe life into the island’s remote villages and lesser-known regions.

The GT20 route stretches nearly 370 miles from the northern port town of Bastia all the way down to the southern tip at Bonifacio. Over the course of the ride, Jeff and I climbed more than 33,000 feet—up through chestnut forests, across high mountain passes, and down into remote valleys where time seems to slow. This wasn’t just a bike ride; it was an immersion into Corsica’s wild soul, one pedal stroke away from heat stroke each day. :-)

Yeah, it as hot. Really hot. And humid. But hey, we are Arizonian so no sweet. Wrong. Still, there was beauty and adventure in the pain. And a cold shower and comfy bed each night. We bikepacked out gear but left our tent at home!

So here's our story of "What It’s Like to Ride Corsica’s GT20 from Bastia to Bonifacio."

•••••••

DAY 0: Nice to Bastia

I had been in Cannes, France for the Cannes Festival of Creativity to which I lead a study abroad program for ASU students. Jeff joined me at the end and so Corsica was a short flight from nearby Nice. From here we caught a flight to Bastia, Corsica.

Bastia, a port city full of energy and faded grandeur—colorful facades, narrow alleys, and a Mediterranean buzz in the air. By chance, we arrived during the Fête de la Saint-Jean, celebrated every June 23rd. The old port was lit with bonfires and fireworks...But first things first. Bikes.

We arranged to rent bicycles from a Swiss company with a location on Corsica - Bcyclet. They outfitted delivered our road bikes to our hotel (well sort-of) - the street where to crowded and narrow so a nearby park proved best. They then fetched the bikes from us in Bonifacio. The bikes were brand new and quite nice - Di2, disk brakes, and carbon rims. Onto which we attached our bikepacking gear.

Here are a few photos from our evening in Bastia. We had a front row seat from our patio table at a local seafood restaurant (what else in a port city?) and our hotel.

The port. So many boats!

The St. John Festival preliminaries - speakers and liturgical music.

Along the harbor promenade. Read into this as you will.

Dinner. Fresh from the Med. An odd looking but tasty fish.

And the bells tolled, and tolled, and tolled....

And, of course, ice cream!

A parade. Notice the smoke in the background. Was Bastia burning?

In a way. On or way back to the hotel we found people gathered around a giant bonfire.

More fire. Works that is.

•••••••

Day 1: Bastia → Saint-Florent

We kicked things off riding north through Cap Corse, a rugged finger of land that juts into the Mediterranean. At Macinaggio the route branched off to the west and the topography rose. The Serra pass revealed beautiful panoramas of the Cap Corse mountains. At the top of the pass appears the Mattei mill which punctuated the ascent.

From there, we dropped into a dramatic balcony road – descending all way into the tiny town of Centuri. This small village with pastel-colored walls is famous for its lobster fishing. But no time for eating lobster now - we were feeling boiled ourselves.

We continued down the northeast coast of the Isle of Beauty. The breathtaking view of Alisu Cove is the highlight of this stage. Far below our cliffside route – small hamlets were build into the coves. A little further south, the black beach of Nonza was striking with its lunar gray pebble shore contrasting the intense blue of the sea.

What we remember: The wind off the sea, sharp climbs, and coasting into Saint-Florent as the sun lit the water gold. And it being really, really hot.

Notes on Saint-Florent. Charming, low-key. I heard it called the "St-Tropez of Corsica," but it's way more relaxed and less flashy. The old town is all narrow lanes, pastel buildings, and a little citadel perched over the bay. We grabbed drinks and watched the boats come in while sitting of a wall of the fort that overlooks the city.

Here are photos outtakes from dawn until dusk.

Sunrise over Bastia.

Bikes loaded. Time to ride.

But not before a good breakfast at a Bastia Boulangerie (aka Bakery)

Hike-a-Bike. Already.

Heading out of Bastia. It was actually pretty busy for the first half hour. Rush hour.

It was up and down lots of rollers at first as we moved up the coast.

The Osse Tower.

These towers are typical of Corsica. The island had up to 120 in 1730, including nearly 30 only on Cap Corse.

Starting up the Col de la Serra

Moulin Mattei

The tiny village of Centuri – Famous for lobster.

We tried to have lunch at this restaurant but they wouldn't serve us yet because it was not yet noon. Lunch hours 12-2. Period. We picked up food at the Spar (Corisca's version of QuikTrip) instead.

Ready to roll again. Plenty of miles to go.

The water is insane shade of blue and crystal clear.

"What just happened?!!!"

Actually is looks like occurred some time ago.

If you look closely you can see the road snaking along the cliffs.

Another tower and the black beach of Nonza.

The communal fountains were a lifeline. Respect!

Up a climb.

Back down and into Saint-Florent.

More boats than cars, I think.

Looking for something local.

Found it.

We walked to and from our hotel down the Plage de la Roya. (Plage = Beach). These tribble-like, oval balls were everywhere. We still. have no clue as to what these are. Do you?

The sunsets and so ends our first day along the GT20 Sporif Edition.

73 miles / 113 km
~4,900 ft / 1,500 m gain
120 degrees F / not really, just felt this way

•••••••

Day 2 / St. Florent to Calvi

Today the route moved away from the coast and revealed a more inland and wild Corsica. The day began with the ascent of the Vezzu pass. The climb offered magnificent views of the Gulf of Saint-Florent. Then came the crossing of the Agriates desert. This wild part combines rocky ridges and valleys covered with maquis. The Agriates are actually not really a desert. It is rather a wild area where the abundant scrubby-vegetation has adapted to local climatic conditions. It reminded me of the highlands of Scotland in November. Golden and brown without much green. Then windy descent. From here the route became rather primitive. Jeff at one point remarked that it was more of a bike path. We climbed some more through Novella and up the Col de Croce (511 m), then the Col de San Colombano. AT LAST - a long descent to Belgodère. Lunch time.

We continued down, down past picturesque small villages — Feliceto, Muro, Muru, and Cateri. But guess what…one more pass – Salvi. Finally, a view of the Gulf of Calvi. The descent from the cliffside village of Montemaggiore with its tight and steep switchbacks registered as a reward of sorts.

We rolled into Calvi rather heat exhausted but glad we made it – and that had decided on air-conditioned rooms for this trip over baked earth campsites. We received and went out to explore the town. Jeff grabbed a cold local one, and looked out over the Golf of Calvi from atop the citadel wall.

Notes on Calvi: A coastal town with serious drama—in the best way. The old Genoese citadel towers over the harbor, and the beach stretches for miles. There's a real mix of locals, sailors, and cyclists here, and plenty of places to refuel. We ended the day with a terrific seafood dinner and a view of the sunset from a terrace. Bonus: there's a myth that Christopher Columbus was born here, and the town hasn’t let go of it.

Breakfast at the hotel wasn't until 8 AM so we opted for La Boulangerie again.

Ready to face the furnace.

Up and down the Vezzu Pass

And up again. We found the steepest road sections were through the villages.

A welcome sign. We looked to these official markers for reassurance.

The Agriates Desert. Rather like the Scottish Highlands. Quite barren.

The road becomes more primitive. And remote.

Corsica has a very narrow gauge railroad connecting Bastia and Calvi. See the tracks on the left side of the photo.

We saw a few tunnels too. But sadly, not the train.

[Maybe a good thing. We would have tried to hop on it]

More bike path than road.

And down.

Up again but the road is getting better.

The about halfway point. Belgodère.

Lunch Time! Remember lunch is from 12-2 PM.

We arrived at 11:30 AM.

Yay! The owner was merciful and allowed us to order early.

For lunch - Corscian Salad. A mix of Corsican charcuterie and cheese for me. We ate AT LOT of charcuterie. Jeff opted for an omelette and frites. Perfect fuel.

Back at it after our hour+ long lunch break.

Would need to have stayed another hour to really embrace the Corsican lunch way. Maybe tomorrow.

The Cape of Calvi at last!

Switchback-mania! The descent from Montemaggiore. Photos don't do this justice. So glad we weren't going up it.

It was still a long slog across a flat section into Calvi.

Ah!!!! Cleaned up and taking in the town.

Dinnertime!!!!

Seafood. Again? Lovin' It.

Cool repurposing of a phone booth.

A toast to Corsica with a local rose.

~68 miles / 110 km –

~4,750 ft / 1,450 m of climbing

122 degrees (perceived measure)

•••••••

DAY 3: Calvi to Porto

Shorter day, but a still challenging and stunning. And hot. After a great breakfast at the hotel - we had a shorter day so why not? We started with a good climb over the Col de Marsolinu, then dropped into the Fango Valley – a fun, fast descent of smooth roads. The valley is shaped by local agriculture. Lots of broccoli field and also local farms selling brocciu. Which is the not Corsican word for broccoli - but a tasty, tasty cheese.

We saw several other long-suffering bikepackers this day. All were far more heavily loaded than us – we felt for them. We crossed an e Figarella bridge then turned west and gained height with the Bocca di Marsulinu (the Marsolino pass). It is the entry point into the Corsica regional natural park - very lush and green.

A highlight was the ride past Col de Palmarella and into the Scandola Reserve. This pass marks the border between Balagne and western Corsica. The panorama at the top offers breathtaking views of the Scandola nature reserve and the Gulf of Girolata a little further south. Jeff out the view as Sedona on the Sea - the cliffs being shades of red.

We then went down, down, down. Mile after miles of coastal road hanging over the sea, red rock cliffs, and almost no traffic. We continued to roll down (well, mostly) right into Porto–tiny town, epic setting. Porto sits between the red cliffs of the Calanques de Piana and the Scandola Reserve, with the sea on one side and mountains on the other. The town itself is super chill—just a handful of hotels, restaurants, and a pebble beach (OK colorful medium-sized rocks). Not a lot going on, but that’s kind of the point.

Here we rented an apartment for two nights and went to the local SPAR for dinner fixings. We sat back, relaxed, and did something we were really excited to do…laundry! Really, we were.

Every day begins with a climb. Col de Marsolinu.

Plunging into the farmland below.

Crossing the ag district.

A rare gas station and Corsican convince store. Snack time.

Green. Green. Green. Up. Up. Up.

What a view!

The start of the "forever" downhill.

Corsican Guardrails.

Bizarro Rock.

Getting closer to sea level.

A little more uphill.

Yes, the water is crazy gorgeous.

So close.

Porto just below,

Free roaming cows. Are they soothed as me at the smell of the eucalyptus trees?

Big smile. Rolling into town.

Porto Ota

Gelato Time!

This is for Judy. Sorry, no room on the bike to bring it home. :-(

Best use case for a micro vehicle.

Graceful arching connector.

Boats lined up to take tourists out into the Gulf. This is a core business.

This tower is square. Unusual.

No place to put down a towel.

The rocks are pretty.

And stack well.

The view from our apartment hotel.

One of the best perks of the place. Laundry!

Oh, and the ability to make a home cooked meal (OK, home assembled).

Porto Rocks!

~48 miles / 78 km

3,450 ft / 1,050 m of climbing

Hot. Hot. Hot.

•••••••

DAY 4: Porto. By Land and Sea.

Porto Ota is a destination in its own right, but it's especially known as the starting point for exploring two UNESCO World Heritage sites: the Calanques de Piana and the Scandola Nature Reserve. So today, we set out to see them for ourselves.  

In the morning, while Jeff (likely more wisely, relaxed in the AC) I decided to check out the Calanques de Piana from above. I left Porto Ota and started climbing right away affording great views to Porto below which became smaller and smaller. The road winded up through the Calanques de Piana, carved into steep cliffs with barely a guardrail in places. It’s a steady climb, but the rock formations here are unlike anything I’ve seen—huge red pinnacles and twisted shapes that look almost otherworldly. The road cuts right through them, with sharp turns and sudden openings to the sea far below. At the top, I stopped to catch my breath and just looked around. Quiet, dramatic, and unforgettable. Then, back down! In not even a half hour!

However, seeing Calanques de Piana and Scandola Nature Reserve from the water is hands-down the best way to go so we boarded a boat run the charter company Alpana. First visit: the Calanques de Piana, where we cruised past the little beach of Ficaghjola and got up close to the dramatic cliffs. Next, we slipped into the caves of Capo Rosso—totally off-limits to bigger boats—which made the whole thing feel rather secret mission. It was SO HOT. So as swim and a bit of snorkeling in the crystal-clear water was in order. From there, we headed to the Scandola Nature Reserve. The captain gave us the inside scoop on the area’s volcanic landscape, local wildlife, and even pointed out ospreys and seaweed banks (yes, they’re more interesting than they sound). We wrapped things up with a stop at the village of Girolata—only reachable by boat or hiking trail. Tiny, peaceful, and charming.

We returned pretty hungry had what was (IMHO) our best dinner at a little open-air restaurant – A Stretta. This is one of those rare gems that feels more like a friend’s quirky backyard than a typical restaurant. The outdoor patio is a colorful, creative space filled with hand-painted tables, mismatched chairs, and a totally relaxed vibe. One of the first things we noticed? A (not so subtle) reminder: no cell phones at the table. The menu is small but thoughtful. I had the most amazing taco ever - stuff with fresh from the Golf of Porto Lobster meat.

We ended the evening with a sunset stroll. But in the back of our minds (really not the back, it was pretty much looming) the really big day ahead of us tomorrow.

Looking out over Porto - the beach doesn't look so rocky from here.

First site of note on my climb - titled "head of the dog" - looks more like a horse to me.

One of thousands of odd natural rock sculptures.

The road goes between. No room for car + bike. Hope no one is coming.

Another examples of oddity.

No time to stop. But what a place for coffee and croissant.

This is the water company we used. One of many, many, many. But a great one.

Chillin' - Is Jeff missing being on his bike?

Haunting? Exotic? Pick your adjective.

We went entered into this turquoise cove via this cave.

AHHHH! Swim time. And not any too soon.

Sure beats melting.

Where are we heading next?

The red rocks of the Scandola Nature Reserve,

Sea grass and other bright colored organisms essential to these waters.

We stopped to watch the dolphins play.

The village of Girolata—only reachable by boat or hiking trail.

A Stretta. This is one of those rare gems. Table hand painted by Bruno, the owner.

I gave into the suggestion of Lobster.

Best taco EVER!

Even the bread came in this smile-enduring "basket"

The sun sets on our rest day in Porto Ota.

•••••••

DAY 5: Porto to Corte.

This was a big one. Today we left the Mediterranean to reach to climb one of the highest passes on the Isle of Beauty. The day began in the shade of the pine trees along a road dug into the cliff. Up to the heights of the Verghju pass – the Spelunca gorges are breathtaking. I saw a goat - probably not wild because it had a bell but we did come across several wild pig. Halfway, the road passes through the picturesque village of Evisa. We made new friends (see photos below).

The ascent continued to the top of the pass which peaks at 1,467 meters. This is the highest road pass on the island. The surrounding rock formations made me think that part of dropped Yosemite into the middle of the Mediterranean. Legs were cooked, but spirits were high as we arrived at the statue of Christ the King has sat at its summit since 1984. Created by the artist Noël Bonardi, it is sculpted from a block of pink granite.

We devoured handcrafted sandwiches of fresh Corsican cheese and meats at the tiny roadside stand. The infamous GR20 hiking trail crosses here and the little hut had an array of lounge chairs for weary hikers. We only saw three passing through and no one stopped. I can’t imagine hiking the GR20 in this heat.  

From the top, it was a monster descent through pine forested gorges. The landscapes then opened up as we approached Lake Calacuccia. A little further, the route entered the Scala di Santa Regina. This 15 kilometer long granite parade is followed a river deep below – this would have been so much more fun had the temps not been going up-up-up as we descended. And the rock walls and wind placed us in congestion oven of sorts. Our downhill ended and we turned up to Bocca d’Ominanda and finally reached Corte.

Corte feels like the real heart of Corsica. Surrounded by jagged granite peaks and full of history, it’s more mountain town than tourist trap. The old citadel sits on a rocky outcrop, and the town buzzes with students, hikers, and cyclists. We ate at an authentic place that served up traditional Corsican mountain fare – chestnut soup and cakes, and wild boar stew. The stone alleyways, and the dramatic backdrop—again, Yosemite vibes.

It was still hot but our hotel had a river running next to it and a pool! Ice cream? Yes! Just yes.

Breakfast of hill climbing champions at the Boulangerie.

Our VT20 Climb Markers. I'm not sure more than .5 mile was actually 4%.

Heading up.

And Up.

Cow: "You look so weird."

This little piggy went to the mud puddle on the way up the road.

Making progress. Sea beginning to recede.

Good friends.

Looking to make a new one.

Yosemite in Corsica.

Cool Pines! But still climbing.

The 1 km to go banner!

The statue of Christ the King by the artist Noël Bonardi in 1984.

It is sculpted from a block of pink granite.

Lunch shack, baby. It's a lunch shack.

Jeff's turn to make a new friend.

Time to head down.

It's starting to get darn warm again. Drat!

Too small to swim in. Too bad.

And someone turned the convection oven on.

There's a river down there somewhere.

Last final climb of the day.

Now we're talking a Colorado-esque view.

It is hard to believe that any snow remains. Much have been a lot to begin with.

A welcome sign.

A few more miles to go.

Lodging had a river alongside. Sweet!

Not exactly deep but I'll take it!

Central Corte. Waiting for dinner time.

This is a statue of General Paoli. President for the brief period of time when Corsica was independent.

Missy Piggy would be so proud of this model.

Traditional Wild Boar Stew.

Ice cream to at the end of the day? YESSSS!

~53 miles / 85 km

~6,200 ft / 1,900 m of climbing

Cool Pines to Convection Oven

•••••••

DAY 6: Corte to Bocca di Vacca

This day served up some beautiful climbs and even better panoramas. The morning, however, started on a rather busy territorial road. Thankfully, after about 10 kilometers (6 miles), the GT20 veered off onto quieter, scenic secondary roads. The route descended into the lush Vecchio Valley, and the old Nuceta Bridge marked the start of our next challenge: the Bocca di Carcosalto climb.

This one was a proper haul — 10 kilometers (6 miles) long with nearly 600 meters (1,970 feet) of elevation gain. We passed through the charming villages of Nuceta (Noceta) and Ruspigliani (Rospigliani). Fun fact: every village has both a French and an Italian name. South of Corte, is seem that Italian is preferred. The black spray painted line through the French town names is a giveaway.

From the top, we cruised down into the stunning Inzecca "Parade" — a narrow road sandwiched between a towering granite wall and the dramatic Fium’Orbu river gorge. The descent continued through the Strette Pass and into the village of Ghisoni — our halfway point and lunch stop.

We were grateful for the classic French two-hour lunch break — shade, rest, and a long meal to escape the heat. The restaurant was nearly empty when we arrived, save for four locals. Soon, two French bikepackers rolled up with set-ups like ours (a rarity — most others we’d seen were fully loaded with panniers). We chatted and discovered they were also riding the 6-day GT20. By the end of lunch, a few more riders had arrived. It felt good to know we weren’t the only ones out there sweating it out!

After lunch, the road plunged into the Marmano Forest. Riding under the cool shade of pine and fir trees, we made steady progress toward the Col de Verde. On the way up, I met another bikepacker — I’d actually spotted him a few days earlier in Porto thanks to his bright red bike and standout kit. He was from the Middle East, working in Belgium, and had decided to take on the GT20. Like many others, he was surprised to hear we were from the U.S. — most assumed we were British.

The Col de Verde tops out at 1,289 meters (4,229 feet) and is a meeting point with the GR20, a well-known backpacking route. We saw lots of hikers gathered around a fountain and a small mountain refuge — but we were flying downhill by then and didn’t stop.

At the bottom lay the Taravo Valley, known for its wild river and pig farms. We rolled into Zicavo, a village with a proud history of resistance against the Republic of Genoa in the 18th century. These days, it’s more about sheep and cattle, thanks to its proximity to the grassy Cuscionu Plateau at 1,500 meters (4,921 feet).

But our day wasn’t done yet. Our gîte (small lodge) was at the top of the Bocca di Vacca — the Vaccia Pass. We soaked our jerseys under roadside fountains (more than once) and began the final climb. It wasn’t steep, and the road was shaded, but after a long day, it still took effort.

We arrived around 5 PM. The lodge — a beautifully restored three-story stone farmhouse — welcomed us with flower-filled window boxes. The auberge's (lodge's) sign advertised its history and its farm-fresh charcuterie and cheese. No A/C, but a lovely breeze through our second-floor window sort-of did the trick

Post-ride recovery included ice cream, local wine (me), and beer (Jeff). We were soon befriended by the resident dog clan — a mama, her three-week-old pups, and grandma. Clearly, we were sitting snack dispensers, and they adored us for it. We watched cows casually walk themselves down the road and I completed a watercolor of the valley below.

Dinner was a feast: housemade pasta, sausage, lasagna, plus that fresh charcuterie and cheese. There was only one other group dining, though a few locals stopped in. Rustic, peaceful, and easily one of our favorite stops — and the sunset? Absolutely spectacular.

All loaded up and ready to roll.

Jeff prefers a rear seat bag and a 20L backpack.

I prefer a front roll for weight distribution and just a small running vest.

Supper yummy breakfast with fresh banana and raspberry smoothies, homemade granola and baked goods, cheese. Yep, we sampled everything. More than once.