Wind, Fog, Rain and Snow, gotta love biking in January.

(Carcassonne freshly dusted with snow)

I am currently writing from a small little hotel located in the heart of Bordeaux, France.  It is day eleven of my journey and I have met many charismatic people and experienced the extremes of Frances January weather.  The following are just a few accounts from the last week or so...

Day 4:  Narbonne to Carcassonne (56km) January 7th

I started out the morning with the traditional nervousness I attain while suiting up for the ride.  I got a feel for the temperature when I went from one building to the next in order to grab a bite to eat before hitting the road.  The woman who served me breakfast asked in french, "are you the one with the bike?" and I responded "yes," to this I received a mixed look of pity, hope, disbelief, and are you crazy.  She went on to tell me what I already knew, "you know its really cold to be biking, and the wind is really strong today?"  I knew, but at this point I was hoping that I could just crank out the low kilometer count of only 56.  She wished me luck and we said our goodbyes.  In the first ten kilometers I knew I would be in for a full day.  The wind was a direct headwind and a strong one at that.  I made it an hour before having to add layers due to the wind chill, which at 10am was actually not that bad, I would say -5 or so.  I was concerned when the wind started picking up and I still had a good 40 kilometers to go.  Yes an hour and a half in and I had only achieved 16 kilometers, not bad considering what I was about to experience.  I made it to a small little town, Lezignan-Corbieres, where I decided to buy a little lunch to try and re-energize, at this point I still had hope of making it to Carcassonne.  Outside the little shop I ran into another biker who was obviously content to see me out in the weather conditions.  We engaged in conversation for a bit and he filled me with encouragement, the always happy cyclist outlook.  He also was the first person to mention "Le Canal," which I will bring up later. Well an hour after departing my friend, I was face to face with a constant wind of 25 to 30km/hr with gusts up to 50km/hour, I know these numbers due to the fact that I did a little research later.  The gusts were so strong that at various points along the way I would be on the shoulder and instantaneously be pushed to the center of the lane doing my best to regain control of the 100 plus pounds that I was peddling.  At one point I remember going down a hill and the wind actually was strong enough to bring me to a dead stop.  The back breaker was when a gust almost threw me into a 5 foot deep ditch! that was it, I had it, I got off the saddle and decided it was to dangerous to try and keep biking, it would be better to just walk the bike.  I was still 26km away from Carcassonne at this point, a little set back, and also very impressed with the power of mother nature, she definitely made her presence known.  About one kilometer into my now trek, I was coming up to a crossroad, and that's when I saw the old silver station wagon with a trailer!  I started to run my bike as fast as I could toward the cross road hoping to catch the drivers attention. Coming up upon the car I found an older French woman sitting in her front seat referencing me with a look of bewilderment.  "est-ce que vous etes fou?" (are you crazy?) were the first words out of her mouth.  All I could do is replay "yes," and somehow try and work a ride out of the ordeal.  She finally broke and said I could try and figure out a way to get my bike on her trailer.  She was a very wonderful person, offering me some fresh tea she had made before going out that day.  By all the random parts and gadgets scattered around the interior of her car, as well as the mixture of fresh soil and farm utilities, I would guess she was a old time farm girl.  She never warmed up to me completely, which could be due partly to my physical appearance, sometimes not widely accepted.  But she, my savior, drove me the remaining 25km to Carcassonne, where she left me at a down town city bus stop, gave me a package of crackers and sent me off on my way.  I would go on to find that the hostel I wanted to stay at was closed, finally finding a place to stay I settled down for the night. That night brought a fresh coating of snow, and needless to say I decided to take a rest day.  I would later find out that January 7th brought some of the worst storms that parts of southern France had seen in two decades, so I do not feel to bad for catching a ride.  

Days 5 through 7: Carcassonne to Toulouse

Due to Snow and ice conditions I decided that it would be safer to take the train from Carcassonne to Toulouse, only a days loss of riding.  I would go on to spend two days resting in Toulouse.

Day 8:  Toulouse to Castelsarrasin (58.2km)

After the storm on the 7th, I was a little hesitant to get back on the saddle.  Thinking on it later, riding alone in the middle of winter without the means of camping can be a bit of a dangerous endeavor.  But the eighth day of my journey rolled around, the 11th of January, and it was back on the saddle.  The day was not to cold, and best of all, no wind.  A low fog had settled in and insulated the region I would be riding in.  I will take fog over wind any day, though I do miss the scenery, it turns a would be amazingly gorgeous ride into more of a grueling crank it out, geat'r done stage, before everything gets soaked.

Day 9:  Castelsarrasin to Agen (50km)

At this point I decided that smaller distances would be better, since I have the time, why not take it.  A smaller distance also plays in my favor if bad weather is to roll in fast.  Another day of fog was all that was to be found on day 9.  I did however finally get to peddle part of the Canal I was starting to hear so much about.  Le Canal du Midi, is a famous boat canal that runs all the way from the Atlantic, connecting at Bordeaux, to the Mediterranean sea.  I road along it for 13km or so.  It is a perfect place to ride, very safe due the fact that there are no cars, but it is more of a summer route.  The possibility for ver glace or black ice next to the canal is a risk that I did not want to take.  It is quite curvy, and the possibility of ending up in the canal is not except-able in January.  

Le canal du Midi, no ice but plenty of fog.

Day 9: Agen to Marmande (58km)

Not much to report about this day.  A day of fog and a forecast of rain.  About 30km in I saw the first signs of hail so I kicked it into gear and made it to Marmande before the weather set in.

Day 10:  Marmande to Bordeaux (90km)

This proved to be the most enjoyable day of riding since I was in Spain.  I started in a thick fog, which presented itself as a field of hanging water, soaking me completely.  Two hours into the ride I would be rewarded with sun and no wind, drying me out entirely and leaving me to a perfect ride into Bordeaux.

Day 11: Rest day in Bordeaux

So yes, like I stated at the beginning of this entry I am in a little hotel located in the hart of the city.  Tomorrow I will take another day to prepare for the last leg of my tour.  320 some odd kilometers remain between me and Angers.  Up to this point I have come over 640km.  only 1/3 of my trip remains, but the weather has turned, and turned toward the side of rain, and lots of it.  As of right now, I plan to make the ride from Bordeaux, to Angers, in a six day push, but I have a feeling that it will end up being 8 days or so, until my tires set rubber on the streets of Angers....

My little goat friend who was a local resident at one of the farm houses I stayed at.

Fresh morning frost/dew

One knows that they're close to Bordeaux when the earth turns a reddish color, glazed in fields upon field of grape vines.