Blog Archives - Wild MTB Adventures

There are rides that fade from memory within days. And then there are the ones that mark you – that shift something inside you and reset your sense of what’s possible on a bike. My journey through the French and Swiss Alps this summer was firmly in the second category. It was the kind of adventure that mountain bikers dream about and it was every bit as extraordinary as I’d hoped.

Morzine was my starting point, the natural choice. Sitting at the heart of the Portes du Soleil, it’s a place built for riders, with trails radiating in every direction and an energy that’s impossible not to feed off. From there, the mountains were waiting.

Riding Out of Morzine: Into the Heart of the Alps

Leaving Morzine and climbing into the surrounding peaks is one of those experiences that reminds you just how small you are in the mountains. The route through Les Lindarets – sometimes called the Village of Goats – and on to Châtel winds through high Alpine scenery that genuinely takes your breath away. And that’s before the altitude kicks in.

Crossing into Switzerland felt like a milestone. The landscape shifts subtly; quieter, more vast, more remote. The singletrack here is extraordinary: technical in places, wide-open in others, always with those huge mountain views stretching out to the horizon. Riding at over 2,000 metres above sea level is a different kind of mountain biking entirely. The effort is greater, the focus more intense and the sense of achievement at the top of every climb is unlike anything you’ll find on a trail back home.

The Bike Parks: Five Venues, Five Experiences

One of the great privileges of riding in the Portes du Soleil is the sheer variety on offer. During this adventure, I also rode blue and red trails across five bike parks – Les Gets, Morzine, Avoriaz, Châtel and Morgins in Switzerland – and each one brought something genuinely different to the trip.

Les Gets has a wonderful rhythm to it: flowing, fast and hugely satisfying. Avoriaz sits higher and feels more exposed, the trails more demanding, the panoramas more dramatic. Morzine’s own bike park offers variety in abundance, with something to suit every mood and ability. Châtel straddles the border beautifully, blending the best of both countries. And Morgins – quieter, more contemplative – served up some of the most rewarding riding of the entire journey.

Whether you’re drawn to technical red runs or prefer to find your flow on blues, this network delivers. It’s one of the most complete mountain biking destinations in the world and spending time across all five parks in a single adventure only reinforced that view.

When the Mountains Test You

I’d be painting an incomplete picture if I didn’t talk about the moments when this trip was hard. And it was hard. Not just physically – though the climbing, the altitude and the daily mileage took a serious toll on the legs – but mentally and emotionally too.

There were stretches where every muscle was protesting and the easiest thing in the world would have been to stop, turn around and call it a day. The mountains are not interested in excuses. They simply sit there, vast and indifferent, waiting to see what you’re made of.

And then you reach the top of a climb. You stop. You breathe. You look out across the Alps – ridge after ridge disappearing into the haze, trails threading through the landscape below – and the struggle dissolves completely. This is the gift the mountains give you, if you’re willing to earn it.

Through Morgins, Over Mossettes and Home to Morzine

The final push – from Morgins through towards Mossettes and back down into Morzine – felt like a homecoming. By this point, my body was running on determination as much as anything else, but the trails were generous and the views kept giving right to the end.

Rolling back into Morzine at the close of the adventure, I felt the particular satisfaction that only comes from a journey properly completed. Not a shortcut taken, not a climb ducked. Just the full thing, start to finish, through some of the most spectacular mountain biking terrain on the planet.

Why the Alps Belong on Your Mountain Bike Bucket List

I’ve been riding mountain bikes for years, long enough to know the difference between a good day on the trails and something that genuinely changes you. This was the latter. The French and Swiss Alps – Morzine, the Portes du Soleil, the Swiss mountains beyond – offer a combination of riding quality, scenery and scale that is simply unmatched.

If you’ve been putting off an Alps MTB trip, stop waiting. The mountains will challenge you in ways you don’t expect, reward you in ways you can’t predict and leave you already planning the next one before you’ve even unpacked your kit.

One bike. One adventure. The mountains, the trails, and the freedom to keep going.

They say that your customers can be your greatest advocates. That’s why I decided to turn the very first blog on my new website over to Darren, who recently came exploring the eastern Brecon Beacons on two wheels with me.

Reading the ride report he sent me afterwards, I’ll let you decide if this was a good idea. To be fair, I had picked a route that I hope would provide some challenge (tick!), some fantastic scenery (tick!) and end with an undeniable sense of achievement (tick!) so I don’t think I got the route wrong.

But over to Darrent to tell you about the ride in his own words…

Adventure MTB Ride Report: Black Mountains (also known as “Steve’s Idea”)

There are many ways to spend a perfectly good day in Crickhowell. A gentle café crawl. A riverside stroll. A casual potter around the bookshops. Naturally, we chose none of those and instead joined Steve for what he reassuringly described as “a great little ride up into the Black Mountains.”

There were five of us in total: four mountain bikers of varying ability, plus Steve – guide, leader and part-time mountain goat disguised as a human.

The Group (or “The Control Experiment”)

We four riders represented a perfect spectrum of cycling ability:
The Keen One – clipped in before anyone finished adjusting their helmets, eager, slightly alarming
The Steady Grinder – sensible pace, lots of hydration, quietly dreading hills
The Survivor – strong on the flat, immediately suspicious of anything labelled “up”
The Optimist – confident, cheerful and about to make several regrettable life discoveries

And then there was Steve, who described the route using phrases like “just a bit of a climb” and “it flattens out later,” both of which would prove to be deeply philosophical statements rather than factual ones.

Phase One: Leaving Crickhowell (Hope)

We rolled out of town in high spirits, legs fresh, conversation flowing, everyone pleased with their life choices. Within minutes, the road pointed upwards… Then it pointed upwards more.

Soon we were climbing rocky paths that appeared to have been designed by people who actively dislike bicycles. The gradient increased steadily until it reached what could only be described as a “philosophical incline” – the kind where you start to question not just your fitness, but your existence. Steve, of course, floated ahead, occasionally pausing to offer helpful insights such as:
“It’s just round this corner!” (There were many corners.)

Phase Two: Forest Roads (False Hope)

The route shifted onto forest roads, which looked smooth and inviting and, from a distance, almost flat. They were not flat.
These were long, grinding climbs where progress was measured in metres per sigh. The group began to spread out:

The Keen One disappeared into the distance
The Steady Grinder settled into a rhythm of determined breathing
The Survivor discovered the full emotional range of pushing a bike uphill
The Optimist began negotiating with gravity out loud
At one point, someone asked Steve how much further to the top. Steve smiled, nodded and said “We’re making good progress.” (This was not an answer.)

Phase Three: The Ridge and the Trig Point (Achievement & Mild Delirium)

After what felt like several geological eras, we reached the ridge and finally spotted the trig point.
There it was: a small concrete pillar marking the high point of the route and the location of our collective emotional breakdown. The views were absolutely stunning – rolling hills, vast skies, the Welsh landscape stretching endlessly in every direction.

We took photos designed to make us look heroic, carefully avoiding any angles that revealed:

sweat levels
facial expressions
the fact that two people were lying down “just for a moment”

Snacks were consumed with the intensity of a survival scenario. Someone declared it “totally worth it,” and although nobody disagreed, there was a shared understanding that we would revisit that statement later.

Phase Four: The Descents (Redemption)

And then, mercifully, gravity returned to our side. The descents were everything we had hoped for:
*Forest tracks: fast, flowing, borderline whooping
*Rocky paths: technical, exciting, occasionally accompanied by involuntary noises
*Sheep trails: narrow, unpredictable, clearly plotted by creatures with no regard for braking distances
*Country lanes: smooth tarmac allowing hands to slowly unclench from the handlebars

Each rider interpreted “descent” differently:

The Keen One attacked it like a downhill race
The Steady Grinder rode with controlled confidence
The Survivor found a groove and slightly over-enjoyed it
The Optimist oscillated between exhilaration and mild terror
Meanwhile, Steve carved effortlessly through every section, choosing perfect lines and somehow making the whole thing look as easy as riding to the shops.

Notable Incidents

Several “I meant to do that” moments after minor wobbles
At least one rider braking so hard they achieved a short career in archaeology
A sheep observing us with what can only be described as deep disappointment

The Return to Crickhowell (Reality)

Rolling back into Crickhowell, we were transformed. Not stronger, exactly, but certainly more aware.

Legs: unreliable
Arms: vibrating
Energy: somewhere back on the ridge

We leaned our bikes against a wall and agreed, unanimously, that:

Steve’s definition of “a nice ride” requires careful interpretation

It had been brilliant

The climbs were “character building”

Final Verdict

The Black Mountains delivered it all: brutal climbs, breathtaking views and descents that made every painful pedal stroke worthwhile.

Would we do it again?
Yes. Absolutely.
Would we believe Steve when he says “it’s just a little climb”?
Absolutely not.

Trails Above the Clouds: An MTB Journey Through the French and Swiss Alps