We had planned a couple of big rides for this year but travel restrictions due to covid 19 has forced us to postpone them until the world is a little less unsettled. We've kept fit on the spin bikes during total lockdown here in France and, later in the summer, enjoyed some short rides. This is one of the more interesting: (Ed.)
Ride along the river Lot. September 2020
As with many of our rides, long and short, the inspiration for them appears out of the ether. In this case, it was the ether of Hans’ campsite. During a recent visit to Coursavy in September, we were discussing with Hans his up coming cycle tour into the Pyrenees. For reasons, which still elude me, he suggested that we join him for the first few days. Did he realise how slowly we rode? Protest, it seemed was a waste of energy as he acceded to our request that he would have to pedal more conservatively or risk riding alone. Thus, in principle, we agreed and the practical details would be worked on.
For those of our readers who are unacquainted with our friend Hans, allow me to introduce the man. He is the ever resourceful owner of camping Coursavy who is also an all round cyclist with bikes for every occasion – racing, mountain riding, and touring. He is also fit and a decade younger than we are, so you may understand our reluctance to accompany him on any ride! Nonetheless that is what we did.
A couple of weeks later on Monday the 22nd September, we arrived in Cajarc by car with two touring bikes on the back plus appropriate bits and bobs in panniers and Hans arrived by bicycle from home with a lot more bits and bobs and full camping gear. Not so Old Bones, we were booked into the local hotel for bed and breakfast! Under our bemused gaze, Hans erected his very expensive tent and organised his campsite. We wandered back to luxury, took the bikes off the car and unloaded the panniers, having agreed to meet later to find a suitable eatery for the evening.
Despite my grumbling reluctance, we ensconced ourselves in the local pizzeria where, it has to be said, the pizzas were excellent. I chanced to be paying our bill at the same time as the group who had been sharing our verandah (a noisy bunch it has to be said). The survey of a cave system on the back of their T shirts proclaimed them as cavers exploring locally. I mentioned in passing that in the dim and distant past, we had explored caves in South Wales amongst others. This throwaway comment was noted by our host and as I returned to our table we were treated to a rendition of the Welsh National anthem over the tannoy! Where did he get that from?!
Tuesday 23.09.2020
We should have expected that any ride with Hans would be unconventional and we were not to be disappointed. The rain was pouring down as we ran for breakfast, for which we do not hold Hans responsible, but we do hold him responsible for virtually everything which followed! Delay and hope the rain passed, as it was forecast to do by 10.00, was not an option so we loaded wet bikes with wet panniers and felt the water dripping down necks! Seemingly confident, Hans led the way along the river in the now fine weather (it was now nearly 10.00). Confronted by very substantial looking gates, our way forward was unclear. It was true that a very narrow path ran outside the gates along the fence line. This in turn led to what can only be described as little short of a cliff-face. Not only was the way on very, very steep and definitely unrideable, it was also very, very wet and very, very slippery. Sensible folk would have back tracked! But nooo……. Not us. We pushed the lightest bike up first. A more accurate description of our ascent would be a scrabble assisted by hanging onto a metal fence. Sadly the metal fence ran out halfway up and underfoot turned into a muddy quagmire adding to the scrabbling element. The second bike followed in similar fashion. The third, which belonged to Hans and was by far the heaviest was viewed with even greater misgivings than the previous two. It has to be mentioned at this point that we were following the Pilgrim Route to Compostelle (for walkers) and Alan had already fallen foul of a lady, probably a nun, by using appropriate but inappropriate international expletives. However, the next three pilgrims were sturdy chaps, who once recovered from their mirth, assisted the final push and we all arrived on the roadside. We had completed just over 1 km in an hour! The road would have taken about ten minutes! And we had probably depleted much of our energy resources for the day! Possibly not Hans!
The weather remained fine and we enjoyed some excellent cycling and views of the gorge and the river. We also maintained a reasonable speed and did not suffer the indignity of watching Hans disappear into the distance. By mid-afternoon we had enjoyed a coffee stop and a leisurely lunch/ sandwich stop on the banks of the river while we worked out a route which avoided the drilling on the cliffs that was going on along the cycle route. We had covered a commendable distance of some 80 kilometres when the sunshine faded, black clouds rolled in dumping huge raindrops. And I mean huge! Visibility reduced to the piece of road immediately in front of the wheel and we were soaked to knicker level. As we turned a corner for Prayssac the cry of ‘bus shelter’ was just audible. A roof and a seat – what luck. So three soggy souls sat and watched the road become a river. (It is at times like this, that company is so beneficial). Following a shivery twenty minutes or so, the drops were less huge and the river was going down so we remounted and continued to Prayssac for about 400mtres! We had seen the route barre sign but on a bike it is usually easy to get around. BUT not with Mr. Health and Safety in charge. MUCH too dangerous to negotiate the large machines and sloppy road surface but the diversion was only an extera 500m . Mmmm…… Tell that to three very wet and tired cyclists. We meekly turned round and followed the diversion.
At this point Old Bones were looking forward to a pre-booked B&B. Hans was looking (not forward) to a cold and wet night under canvass! Would there be a vacancy for a third person in the B&B?! There was. And so after 95 kms we three dismounted in a heap on sodden clothing deposited on the floor of the garage which was complete with drying machine and hanging space. How good was that. In little more than our underwear, we climbed the stairs to the main house and a very welcome beer.
We had all been keeping a keen eye on the weather forecast which was less than encouraging. Wet and cold on a bike is not fun despite what some may say and so the forecast for Friday, which was abysmal, was causing some concern. Wednesday’s ride was expected to be well over 100kms which would make our return to Cajarc on Thursday and Friday some 200 kms in very inclement conditions. So we hatched a cunning plan. We would ride with Hans for 40 to 50 kms then return to Prayssac and our delightful B&B while he would continue south and thus we could avoid a Friday ride of around 100 kms in the lashing rain and wind!
It worked perfectly and, although the weather was less horrible than expected, the slightly more leisurely pace allowed us to take in more of the picturesque countryside than on the way out. In fact, the route that Alan’s Gpx file followed was quite unlike the one we had followed with Hans and we found ourselves on fewer roads and more numerous greenways. A bit further but certainly more relaxing .
We spent Thursday night in Cahors, a famous and beautiful city; a place that one would expect to house a plethora of hotels. It did. However, the one that Al had earmarked for our overnight was unsuitable. As ever, we needed a secure space for the bikes. The reception I received was desultory at best and rude at worst. Despite having numerous outbuildings, this hotel had no room for two bikes except in the car park! Over the years and kilometres we have travelled, it is often the larger towns which are the least accommodating. We did, however, locate a bike friendly hostel just a few minutes walk from the bustling commercial and restaurant centre. Still busy despite covid.
Continuing our return to the car the following day, we took care to avoid the steep incline (decline) of our first day and stuck with the descent of the road into Cajarc. The weather forecast had been a little ambitious is its forecasting of unremitting rain and wind for Friday and although it was wettish, the wind was behind us for most of the twisting and turning of the route along the river. Still, better to err on the side of caution as we approach old age.
We had enjoyed our little excursion and as the weather continued to deteriorate over the next week(s) we felt that our decision to curtail our journey (we had planned a route through Bordeaux and home) was probably a wise one if a bit disappointing. Hans, on the other hand, had planned to be away for some three weeks. After two further days he was not responding to his phone (it had unsurprisingly died a death from wetness) and we were anxious as to where he was. It transpired that he had spent time in the hospital with a suspected heart attack! Thankfully, it turned out to be a serious urinary infection which was masquerading as a heart condition. It is likely that the weather conditions rendered a pleasant cycling holiday null and void and a return home for him was the best option. A little less angst would not have gone amiss though!
Never let it be said that our excursion are uneventful! Indeed, it is the uncertainty and unfolding of events that provide the on going fascination of our rides. We continue to meet so many different people and experience vast ranges of environments, not all pleasant and many very challenging, but ultimately, all of them enriching our lives. It is all such fun and long may it continue! We consider ourselves very privileged and fortunate to enjoy good health and quality bikes!
