They were all out swimming, cycling, skating, skating with ski poles! on the Saturday morning (except for these two when I actually stopped to take a photo!)
All that morning round the lake I had this nagging feeling that my dear disc brake cable was on the loose side and my attempts to adjust it (half a turn anticlockwise as you look at it from behind!) Hasn't done the job. Then I realized that Chambery would be perfect as it was around morning coffee distance away. I stopped a local man (as he was cycling with small children on the path) and he suggested DVelo but struggled to direct me. As always just when you need it I realized I had failed at the Hotel Thermal to get everything charged and so now needed a cafe stop to power up sufficiently to find D Velo. Fortunately a nice guy in a Chambery town centre bar got me sorted and after a short diversion to an edge of town shopping area I got to the shop.
There I was instructed to talk to Piet as he spoke English (so much for my attempts to explain the problem in my French which by this time I was getting regularly complemented for....that month picking apple's outside Avignon talking revolutionary politics with my Moroccan co-workers hadn't been wasted but clearly had not focussed enough on technical French!
Piet turned out to be Belgian attracted to the local good life who had cut his teeth in distance cycling terms in a trip from Belgian along the French coast and across to Portsmouth and the English southwest - he knew Bristol, sized me up in 5 seconds and having taken me and the laden bike through to the workshop adjusted the rear disc pad to be as close as reasonable to the disk and tightened my cable up which should see me good for a while again. He ran his eye over the front brakes and gearing giving one of those satisfied shrugs as he took the bike off the stand which filled me with confidence! Just what I needed before the grand ascent. I asked him what I owed him and with a half smile he said a postcard from Greece. Piet, mate, if you're reading this remember you've got a place to stay in Bristol\Kardamyli down on the Pelopponese any time! When I commented that cool things happen around cycling he memorably responded 'That's why we do it!' Right on Piet you nailed it man!
The next leg out of Chambery which seemed a good place but didn't get given them the time it deserved was an important routing leg. The geography of the Marennais valley is such that if you get it wrong and head up the wrong side valley boy you can add it some serious work to your route .So when spotted outside the key gateway town of Montmelian studying the map I was very pleased that Marion stopped and asked me where I was going ! I wasn't entirely sure as the map.codes the routes like ski posted with the addition of green for family voit better if flat cycleways, blue /red/ black and there were two blue routes leading up the lower valley, one red route up the middle valley and inevitably the black route up the final ascent. Anyway Marion was kind enough on a spin to deal with her own family loss to suggest I follow her. In the course of an hour's spinning around her local lanes we negotiated all the route finding difficulties, shared our respective recent family loss and separated celebrating strength and the joys of bike riding - thank you Marion - especially for the tip to take the variant with the swimming lake!
When I hit the road for an evening session after the afternoon chill out on what was the hottest day of the ride to date I did make a minor routing error and the payback was a 300 m ascent and descent on a spur of the main valley which was both exhausting and exhilarating at the same time! That got me back on my route into the upper Marennais and the valley really became a classic alpine pasture.
As the evening wore on and I became more bucolic amidst the pastures I realized the night. Was approaching and a campsite (domestic or sauvage ) was required .Fortunately I stopped for for an evening beer where vital recon was on offer. A village but 10 km up the valley had both a swimming lake and a bar (I had realised by this time that life was getting sufficiently rugged that even the latter could not be taken for granted.) You can imagine them my frustration on arriving in St pierrev beau ville to encounter a muddy water hole and a closed bar. A 100m (ascent) to the village centre confirmed my worst fear s (excuse the vernacular - fuck all) and my frustration on the descent was such that when I heard some people enjoying their evening drinks on their lawn I brazenly approached them to be told Ahh .ca c'cest la lac des pecheurs vous voulez la lac de nager..And in response to the all important question how far I could have missed her when she answered 2kms.
Half an hour later with table reserved I was in the lake fully clothed , combined shower and cycle kit wash in one and say enjoying an excellent France dinner scrubbed up within an hour of arrival.
Another great day especially notable for the help from my friends!
No comments:
Post a Comment