Flat Ride Followed by Hilltop Lunch

For a change of pace and relief from our ride to Malaucene we opted for a leisurely ride through the Rhone valley. Vineyards dominated the landscape which always makes for a appealing scene.  On our way out of Sablet we took a detour into town for the first of our daily breads. Biking without a bread in your pack it tempting fate should you come up empty handed when time for a "bread snack". 

As with all self designed routes it is sometimes difficult to determine the quality of the roads depicted in the route planning software. I routed us off a paved road onto a muddy beaten path for a short jog. Since it rained our tires and shoes were encrusted with the sticky stuff which required a stop to get back to rideable condition. Fortunately it was only a short segment where pavement gave way to gravel.  

A memorial plaque commemorating American airmen who crashed in this field in 1944. We have come across many similar commemorations throughout our extensive riding in France. Some are for allied forces and others resistance fighters who were killed fighting for their freedom.  

We have seen these statues elsewhere in France but the female version was new gender appropriate compliment to the male versions normally displayed 

This Ken and Barbie duo are on opposite ends of the crosswalk waiting for a chance to get to know each other better. 

On of the many water crossings that crisscross the Rhone valley floor.  

This chocolate shop is not a UNESCO world heritage sight, but maybe it should be. Just a photo of the sign but no window shopping or browsing.

My route planning website assured me that this "footbridge" would get us from one side to the other but we have been led astray more than once. 

This pedestrian tunnel was the real deal. No way a traditional railroad crossing would have worked considering the frequency of trains whizzing by overhead. 

What works for the mister often works for the misses.

Midway through the ride at the farthest point we pulled into this town in search of a Tabac. This place was also a Vietnamese restaurant - the first one we have seen in France. After the coffee arrived we broke out the bread making for a lighter snack today. 

The proprietor appeared moments later with a plate of sliced prosciutto and a few moments later a package of butter for a complete repast. Even though this Vietnamese couple were probably not born here they were So French! 

Even though "velo routes" are not always our preferred option this one proved a winner.

Especially the overpass exclusively for cyclists and pedestrians. 

We skirted around the city of Orange after our coffee stop in Piolenc. The congestion and traffic made this our least  favorite section. Gladly, we missed the heart of town staying in the outer suburbs. 

Heading back into familiar territory and our hilltop lunch. 

The climb to the town of Gigondas required all the remaining strength we could muster. We were not disappointed relaxing on this patio dining area and ordered some of out favorite dishes... duck over a salad for Kim and steak prepared "bleu" (very rare) for me. With a steep downhill to the main road and about 2 miles home we knew that our indulgence would not override our ability to make it home. 

Sablet - home sweet home. 

Offsetting our heavy midday meal a lighter dinner was in order. Tonight's charcuterie included the traditional pate and cheese plus a tongue terrine (which was a great and first time find). A compliment of olives and abundance of bread made the end of day meal a perfect finish to an outstanding day.  

Return to Provence - First Ride

Tuesday was our one and only transfer day from Dordogne to Provence. It was a six hour drive which started out in rainy conditions south to Toulouse and part way east. The speed limit on the expressways is reduced from 130 KM per hour to 110 (~70 MPH) due to the weather conditions.

 After a coffee stop and lunch break at the fabulous rest stops we exited the highway near Orange for the last 20+ KM to the house. It took a few minutes to locate the place but the owner was able to track us down and lead the way. After such a grueling day we decided to forgo a big shop and went to the local market boulangerie and rely on the left over food we brought with us. 

Transfer days are tough. After removing the wheels and loading the bikes into the car, along with all the stuff we brought and acquired since arrival we were good to go. We do the opposite on the other end after a tiring drive. Hopefully this will be the last time we transfer locations on our France biking adventures. Next year we are limited to four weeks away so planting ourselves in Castelnaud will be our preferred choice.  

Instead of foregoing our Wednesday ride for a trip to the mega market we set out on an ambitious route both in distance and climbing. With the wheels on and tires pumped -we were ready to go.

We are based in this premier wine region of Cote du Rhone nestled between the Rhone river and edge of the alps like Mount Ventoux. We came for the biking but most tourists are here for this less famous wine region (Burgundy and Bordeaux are better known).with vineyards stretching in every direction. 

Like many of the locations we visited this one belongs to the exclusive club of "Beaux Villages" - the most beautiful villages of France. 

Decorating roundabouts with elaborate sculptures and colorful flowers is a source of local pride. As Eagle County adds more to our local roadways hopefully this custom will be adopted as well. Actually there are some already. 

Now that we have left the hilltop town of Sablet we circled around some vineyards before heading up the steepest grades we will encounter - topping out at almost 12%. 

Unlike the remnants dating back to the 12th century in the Dordogne this area boasts the presence of the earlier inhabitants from Rome. 

We were not sure where we were on our route so we parked ourselves on this pedestrian mall outside of this gem of a find...

The outside looking in appeared to be a great find...

But the inside was pure nirvana.... 

From every direction.

Too early in the ride for coffee and pastry so just a bite or two of bread for refueling. 

You have to admit that the Romans left behind some extraordinary artifacts. 

You can not stop wondering how all this got built with nothing but manual labor, but slave labor uses the power of numbers. 

The locals have added modern conveyances to what their ancient Romans left behind. 

Which got us on our way to the town of Malaucene at the base of Mount Ventoux. 

This town is the start of one of the three ascents up Mount Ventoux, and Mecca for cyclists from everywhere preparing for their climb to the top. On our previous visit we started our ride up from Sault. The third basecamp is the town of Bedoin which will come later in our stay.

It was market day so a stroll through town was in order and late enough to consider the obligatory coffee stop. 

On the way out of town and down the hill we stopped for a selfie at the rock sign where we took a similar photo back in 2016. 

It was fun to revisit this spot and reminisce about the great time we had back then. 

As it was getting late we relaxed along the final legs of our route back in the low lands meandering through small towns and more vineyards than we could count. 

A symbolic sculpture depicting two hands harvesting grapes in the roundabout along the D7 back home. 

One of the many towns boasting the many wineries that make this area a preferred wine region. 

Here is the list of wineries that call this town home. 

Finally a sign confirming the short distance (6 KM) we have yet to go on this long and challenging ride. 

And a sign on the hillside proclaiming this town's pride in all its wines. 

The Ride That Almost Wasn't

Today is our last ride in Dordogne this year. 

Yesterday we discovered a new town which had promise as an alternative to the well worn routes of days gone by. Since Sunday was a rain out and Shaun tested negative for Covid we had him pick the lunch spot which proved to be a perfect choice. Although the forecasts were bleak with intermittent rain we held out hope for a ride. Putting faith in the forecasters (we use various sources which rarely agree) is a tricky business as we have learned on this visit. When rain is a certainty with light sprinkles it often turns out to be a false alarm. We were not going to be fooled again so we dressed for the occasion and ventured out just past 9. The road was damp but so far, so good as we headed south along our familiar path.  

As you can see when we arrived at our critical turn there were blue skies ahead so we pressed on. Only 4 KM to our turn around point. Next year we will push on to Salviac. 

Here is the sign to the restaurant from yesterday so we knew we were on the right track. 

A before and after photo of two walnuts waiting to be harvested. When the pod turns black it is ready to fall. 

Our destination has arrived and we are still dry... the weather gods are smiling at us or just laughing at our lack of faith. . 

Another quaint little village with an excellent restaurant we will return to next year. 

Flowers still in bloom even though fall is here. 

Kim noticed these roadside residents on the way up but waited for the photo when we were on the downhill. So much easier to stop.

This guy was the cutest and most inquisitive. Cyclists are a popular attraction. 

Back on the D60 and only one KM to coffee. This will be our last visit to the Tabac in St. Pompon. We sat down next to a lovely couple who spoke the King's English so a conversation was born. After exchanging backgrounds, their love affair with the Boss (Bruce Springsteen), and other generational experiences in common, they could not resist getting an American's perspective on the election insanity from our side of the pond. 

Again, we were amazed by their depth of knowledge of the inner workings of American politics. Considering most Americans could not name a single prime minister other than Churchill, they were fully versed in the play by play events of our current political season. We cut the discussion short as the witching hour for the next rain was approaching so off we went without a full understanding on how the world will survive the wrong outcome. 

Kim insisted on checking out the aging corn stalks as we made our way back home. Since this is feed corn they let it die and dry before chopping and grinding for winter feeding.