In the Massif Central

August 27 St. Flour, southern part of the Massif Central. This is a temporary stop on our way, most likely, to Provence. After much discussion, some of it fairly heated, we have decided to head that direction and try to find an area where the biking suits all of us. R and I have learned important things from cycling in this mountainous area. Here is Robb's haiku on the subject:

Going up thighs burn,
Going down brakes burn:
Cycling in Massif Central!

The bike is heavy, the grades are intense, probably from 7 to 10% in some places. We labor going up; our granny gear is not as low as the granny on the Ks' bikes, undoubtedly because of the sheer weight of the tandem. They can sit and spin at as little as 3 mph and get up those grades. We labor at perhaps 5 mph, but going down, build up frightening momentum. That in itself is certainly no surprise to us after riding a tandem for 23 years. What is very upsetting is that our rear brakes do not seem to be engaging, despite a change of brake pads. I have been forced to pull with might and main on the rear drum brake which I control while Robb pulls the regular brakes. Yesterday at our lunch stop, the drum brake was scalding hot from the friction, and our front brake pads have worn down alarmingly. The rear brakes? Cool. It is nervewracking to face these long steep downhills, through hamlets or towns, with twists and turns, and having to coordinate the brakes to give us the minimum of control we have got to have.Therefore! We have decided, and so announced, that we want to ride on more gentle ups and downs, where the reward going down is something of a brief rest for the work of the up. Jane, however, like the long, steady and even steep climbs. The challenge now is to find a place where we can all find places to cycle, although not necessarily together at all times, as well as do some sightseeing.

Today enroute we stopped at a large sports emporium called Decathalon, a chain here in France, and bought new tires and tubes for Jane and Bruce's bikes, and two new sets of brakepads for the tandem. All were installed on the spot, and as a crazy treat, we walked across the parking lot to the McDonald's. For more than twice American prices we chomped down Big Macs, chicken sandwiches, hamburgers, and because there was a patisserie counter, two big chocolate chip cookies. Besides the patisserie counter, we found that the most notable differences were the better quality of the buns, and much larger "quarter pounders." The place was crammed with every sort of consumer. Saturday at the mall in France!

Backing up a little further, we began the morning with the teleferique ride up to the Puy de Sancy above Le Mont Dore, which peak is the highest place in the Massif Central (some 1,886 meters) and the origin of the Dordogne River. We climbed very high tho only Robb made it to the very top. It was windy, chilly, and the only other people there were German and they were all hiking. And monly 23 Eost of them with gray hair! On the way down in the tram, the attendant showed us a little building part way down where the Dore and the Dogne rivers join. That was fun!

At 9:45 pm: Oh boy! Probably our best dinner ever! What a surprise. This is a smallish three star (but not elegant) hotel in the newer district of the town below the historic center, and we just stayed in, so to speak, for dinner. But it was just wonderful. Everything so beautifully prepared, so delicious, and the service, wonderful. Robb raved over his boeuf borgonogne (sp?), me over my vegetable soup, Bruce over his fish, and everyone had a little bit of my cheese selection (4 kinds, collectively selected). The guys had sorbet and ice cream. Jane and I shared a half bottle of an St. Emilion 2005 wine, and our dinners were only $23E apiece. This was a treat. We have had an occasional dish that was really good, but no meal as outstanding as this.

August 26 Le Mont Dore; northern part of the Massif Central.

From the little balcony off of our room at the aptly named Panorama Hotel, I am resting ater two strenous days of mountain biking. Little Le Mont Dore is a resort town: spa (mineral baths are big), hiking, skiing. Only about 5 streets wide, it sits in a deep canyon underneath towering cliffs. A small stream runs through town, and it turns out to be the great Dordogne River, one of several great French rivers (including the Loire) that are born in the Massif Central. Just above us at a site we hope to visit tomorrow by tramway, the Dore and the Dogne rivers join and cascade down into the town on their way west. Our first ever bike trip, in 1997, was in the Perigord region, home to the Dordogne. So we have in a way come full circle.

This area is just beautiful. Old volcanic cones worn down by time are covered at the higher levels with pastureland and dotted with cattle. Lower down are forests, streams and rivers. The vistas are huge, so big that from the side of one mountain, the cows on the other side look like tiny dots. There are no highways here! The roads are two lane and wind and twist their way through. Americans don't come here, but the French sure do, and so, I think, do the Germans. There are hikers everywhere these days, and even the littlest kids have their own hiking sticks. Camping spots and picnic pulloffs abound. In this town, the lame and the halt take advantage of the waters. The French are enjoying their national heritage. Good for them!

The biking here is a challenge! We found a bike map when we arrived hee two nights ago, and after much cogitation - and without really knowing much about the area - we chose a "medium difficulty" route slightly northwest of here. We never expected to be able to do the entire 70K route (42 ml; 1K=.6ml) although by the end of a very looong day, we had done 58K (about 34 miles!). But the altitude gains were tremendous and the route was all up or all down. I estimate that about 75% of our time was spent climbing, 20% on screaming downhills, and the other 5% on something resembling flat. The ride began with a 10K climb out of a little town up to a gorgeous pass; this took an hour. After that a very fast and long downhill to another town. From then on, up-down-up-down and so on. These little villages, or settlements, are often situated on streams or rivers - thus, the "down", but once you pass through, it's all up to the pastures above. The views could not be more gorgeous, and once we got used to it, we accepted the terrain in an "it is what it is" frame of mind. One pleasant interlude came in a little farm town, at the central fountain. A large black dog came up to make friends and be scratched. Then a jovial young farm-type came out with watering can to fill up at the fountain. He, with my help, got the dog into the fountain (the dog was eager but timid) and that was fun. The monsieur poured water over Robb's head to help him cool off. I love these kinds of friendly exchanges. This one made me remember on that trip to Perigord, how I was cycling by myself back from a town where we had gone to see the Tour de France peleton ride through. It was incredibly HOT, and I stopped along the road for a cold Coke. The owner was watering his flowers with the hose. He held it up before me with a "Want some?" gesture, and I gratefully accepted being hosed down! With a Merci Monsieur, I headed back to the hotel, where I dove immediately, clothes and all, into the pool.

Well, we felt quite victorious when we got back to the car yesterday. It had taken us about 6 hours to ride 58K, and we were tired, but it felt wonderful to have done it. We celebrated with a nicer than usual dinner at a local restaurant.

Today, another story. The route we chose was labeled "Facile" (easy) and only 36 K. Beautiful territory, again, but Jane left her waistpack at our picnic spot along the way, and Bruce got a flat tire - and then, a second one on the same wheel. Jane didn't notice the missing waistpack until after the first flat. To make a long story very short, she had to cycle back on a very tough "up" to look for it, while Robb and I took off on a shortcut back to retrieve the car. Bruce was left waiting for all of us. The good thing is that Jane found the waistpack. Someone had put it on top of the picnic table (she had left it on the bench) and absolutely nothing was missing. How wonderful! The bad news? R and I had to ride a continuous climb for some 6 miles before the short "down" to the car. The relentless "up", while not particularly steep, was hot and very tiring. R was pushing because he didn't want the Ks to have to wait too long. We managed to get to the car in an hour, completely exhausted. Threw the tandem in the car and drove back down to retrieve the Ks. It is now clear that the tire that blew is defective and needs to be replaced and that we must find a bike shop. And a good one. That ... will be our next priority.

It's not easy for us to know exactly how much elevation gain we have done on these rides. However, by carefully scrutinizing a number of maps, R thinks that in yesterday's ride, the gain was as much as 4,500 feet. In other words, all of the "up" distance together probably amounted to that much. Just the first climb up the the pass could have been, he thinks, 1,200'. The bike map itself listed a gain of 1,800 meters for the whole 70K ride, which we did 58K of. Today, certainly less, but that final ride that R and I did: whew! I'm a lucky kid that he is so strong!
We are discussing where to go next. It may be Provence, where none of us have been. Or it may be an area close to the Pyrennes, where the Ks have cycled before. That would be mountains, but they assure us that it is long, more gradual climbs rather than the short, steep ones we've done these last two days. Whichever it is, we welcome a day off the bike! We will hunt for a bike shop on the way, and bike again once we land at our next destination

We have made a running joke out of a quotation in my Rough Guide, which noted the particular charms of the natural waters in a nearby spa town: Apparently the tourist brochure for the town states: "You will be able to put your vital node to rest in Bourboule." As to what exactly might be my vital node, I can't be sure. But you can bet we are working on a haiku on the subject! Meanwhile here is one which captures my view on the difference between French and American approaches to food:

Le pain francais:
le baguette, le boule, le croissant.
Ya want fries with that?