Yesterday was a good day. A great day. We experienced almost everything we enjoy about cycle touring; the challenges, the rewards, the elements, and most importantly genuine , heart warming interactions with people.
Our route took us away from the canals and up in to the countryside. This area of France is cattle country, well known for its beef. Consequently we passed many a curious onlooker and our thoughts easily turned to double burgers. Narrow, windy roads kept the ride interesting and Mother Nature added her touch with wind and rain to keep us honest. As an added bonus we faced a very steep, hilly section. Fuelled by another round of pastries, we successfully tackled the hills at what we term croissant speed, an easy touring pace. We are fearful that we may be the only cyclists on Eurovelo 6 to be gaining weight as we have taken carb loading to heart. Our diet consists of baguettes, chocolate croissants, the odd ice cream and wine. We can only imagine what might happen when we enter Germany and add beer to the mix.
We were both riding strong and the day seemed to fly by. Faced with dwindling light and another storm system moving in we decided to was time to find a campsite. Unfortunately, there was nothing around for miles, and really no suitable spot to wild camp. Pulling over to the side of the road to chat, we decided to adopt Plan B. Unfortunately, we didn’t have a plan B. Exhausted and close to tears I simply stood there in disbelief. It was at that exact moment, a complete stranger pulled up in his car and offered assistance. Oozing civic pride he exclaimed, “follow me!” He drove slowly and carefully guiding us back in to town to the Mairie. Welcome to our green garden he said enthusiastically . The town designed this special place specifically for tourists, like us, who may be in need of a place to rest. Beyond grateful for his help we chatted for a few minutes learning more about this special place. As darkness grew we set up our tent, marvelling yet again at the kindness of strangers.
Giggle
Approximately 20 km outside of Bourbon-Lancy I found myself struggling to keep pace with the Rock. Worried that my legs were beginning to fail me, I tried to increase my speed, but to no avail. Frustrated I peddled on and to my great relief I began to feel the fwump, fahwump of a slowing deflating tire. I know it sounds ridiculous to be relieved at the thought of a flat, but I felt encouraged that it was the bike failing and not my muscles. At this point we were travelling along very narrow, windy roads and it seemed quite dangerous to stop to change a back tire. We decided to attempt the old “inflate and sprint” technique. My knight in shining armour (stinky bike shorts) would hop off his bike and pumped up my rear tire. Rob would then yell, go Jane go! Upon the signal, I would ride like a bat out of hell, until the tire deflated again. I am mortified to think that as I summoned my inner sprinter, I probably looked exactly like an old bat out of hell. This inflate and sprint routine continued for the entire 20km until we finally had to walk the last stretch into our campsite. On a wing and a prayer...or perhaps a tire without air. (Groan!)
Route update:
Tonight we are enjoying Rob’s birthday brews at a little campsite cafe on the banks of the Soane River, in Saint-Jean-De-Losne. We have passed the southern most point of our route, and are now heading north and east toward Switzerland.
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