Firstly, allow me to apologise for the pre-listing(s) cock up of my ride report photos not showing. Apparently, Google Photos no longer supports URL links to forums like this unless the viewer has a gmail account too. Or something like that. Anyway, after ditching my Flickr account due to being forced into having Yahoo email account, I sheepishly returned so hopefully this will work. I’ve attempted the first three days. If it don’t work...I give up...completely. So where was I....ah yes...
...well, having posted my road book from this year’s tour a few days ago, I thought it might be a good idea to do a ride report to accompany it to give a flavour of what it was all about.
A little background info first, to set the scene if you like. This was my ninth annual, boy’s week away, bike tour with a group made up of a few local guys that I’ve befriended over the years, and a few more from the forum that have too become friends. This year there were six of us. Yours truly, obviously, Anton, Sid, Andrew aka…Andrew, Paul aka Frequent Flyer and Steve aka Homer69. We’ve all toured together before at least a couple of times, some of us for 8 or nine years so we all know what twats each of us can be in our own way.
I know, I know, no pictures of bikes yet but bear with me, they won’t be long.
So this year’s trip was to the French Alps, or more precisely, mainly to the area between Grenoble and Gap. We usually blast to the mountains, ( I love the mountains), but this year, I thought we’d do things a little differently and take a leisurely two and half days on national roads to get there, then the same back but on a different route. This would give us four days in the mountains, lots of passes to ride and even more stunning vistas to view. So here we go….
Day 1: Saturday
Up, but not too early, which was fortunate as Steve and Andrew had stayed the night and we’d drunk a few bottles of wine. Down to Folkstone for an 11’ish crossing. We hadn’t seen some of the northern posse for a year so it was good see them all again.
Me, Steve and Andrew at Folkstone. I’m the tall one.
We were heading for the town of Albert, about three hours from Calais on national roads, passing through villages and small towns. Near Albert is the Thiepval Memorial which I thought was worth a stop.
Shame about the scaffolding but it was being smartened up.
It’s a humbling place and respects 72,000 Britsh and South Africans who died without a grave in the Great War. Truly humbling.
Albert is only ten minutes away so we were at our hotel, the Basilique, soon enough and out for a few sherbets at the bar next door.
We usually tour the first week of July so being the first week of September, we really noticed the shorter days.
Sunday:
Anton and I were up early for a pre-brekkie stroll around town.
The Hotel Basilique. Happy to recommend this one.
And the Hotel de Ville, or Town Hall.
After breakfast we loaded up and hit the road for our first full day’s ride. We were heading for the Morvan National Park to the west of Dijon which proved to be a day largely spent on roads like this…
...and this. I love these tree lined roads. There’s something quintessentially French about them and make me feel like I’ve arrived in France.
By the time we stopped in Sezanne, hoping to find a spot of lunch, it was registering 37 degrees C. We sat in a pizzeria, the only place we could find that was open, and spent half an hour or so being completely ignored by the owner so we left.
Sezzane.
The town tramp was having his daily wash in the fountain.
So after a few more miles of this...
We ended up stopping for a Quick one...that’s a French version of McD’s. It’s not what I had in mind but it was air conditioned which was nice considering the temperature outside.
We were soon in the Morvan National Park. Imagine somewhere like the Cotswolds if you will, it’s similar to that. I’d never been there before but it was very pretty...
...and the riding was very good too.
We finally arrived at our hotel, Le Relais de Lacs in Planchez. Unfortunately it was all locked up with no sign of life so we rode into the nearest town, Chateau-Chinon and found an alternative. The receptionist told us that the owner of the other place had died recently. Obviously we felt kind of bad for certain things we’d said.
Sid and Steve enjoying a beer. Maybe a little too much.
Day 3: Monday
The day began with a few more miles in the national park, dodging fallen trees...
...and enjoying the scenery.
And of course, enjoying the roads.
All too soon though, we left the park behind...
...and rode until it was time for a morning coffee.
This year we came upon quite a few road closures. Usually bridges being repaired. Sometimes, we managed to scramble through but at the broad River L’Ain, we were diverted several miles along a pretty gorge and over a viaduct.
Finally we had reached the mountains. Not quite to the Alps but the Jura Mountains to the west of Geneva. This beats my regular lunch break view.
The view down to Lac de Nantua in the distance.
Although I organise the trips, I’m happy for any of the guys to lead although they usually prefer me to. Anton however, has a habit of taking the lead spontaneously, just at the wrong moment, usually when the navigation is about to get trickier. On this occasion, he did just that and immediately took a wrong turn onto a motorway resulting in a twenty mile detour...well, for him. As usual, the rest of us just ignored him and went to find some shade.
Here we are welcoming him back.
The afternoon was spent climbing into the mountains, riding a few small passes and through more gorges...
...until we reached our lodgings for the night, Le Chalet de Cirque de Sainte-Meme. If, like me, you like out of the way places, then this might be right up your street.
Sorry, this is me. And that’s a miniature lamp post next to me, although officially a giant, I’m not that tall.
Well. That's the first three days and hopefully the photos have stuck this time around. If so, I'll carry on in a day or two.
Cheers,
...well, having posted my road book from this year’s tour a few days ago, I thought it might be a good idea to do a ride report to accompany it to give a flavour of what it was all about.
A little background info first, to set the scene if you like. This was my ninth annual, boy’s week away, bike tour with a group made up of a few local guys that I’ve befriended over the years, and a few more from the forum that have too become friends. This year there were six of us. Yours truly, obviously, Anton, Sid, Andrew aka…Andrew, Paul aka Frequent Flyer and Steve aka Homer69. We’ve all toured together before at least a couple of times, some of us for 8 or nine years so we all know what twats each of us can be in our own way.
I know, I know, no pictures of bikes yet but bear with me, they won’t be long.
So this year’s trip was to the French Alps, or more precisely, mainly to the area between Grenoble and Gap. We usually blast to the mountains, ( I love the mountains), but this year, I thought we’d do things a little differently and take a leisurely two and half days on national roads to get there, then the same back but on a different route. This would give us four days in the mountains, lots of passes to ride and even more stunning vistas to view. So here we go….
Day 1: Saturday
Up, but not too early, which was fortunate as Steve and Andrew had stayed the night and we’d drunk a few bottles of wine. Down to Folkstone for an 11’ish crossing. We hadn’t seen some of the northern posse for a year so it was good see them all again.
Me, Steve and Andrew at Folkstone. I’m the tall one.
We were heading for the town of Albert, about three hours from Calais on national roads, passing through villages and small towns. Near Albert is the Thiepval Memorial which I thought was worth a stop.
Shame about the scaffolding but it was being smartened up.
It’s a humbling place and respects 72,000 Britsh and South Africans who died without a grave in the Great War. Truly humbling.
Albert is only ten minutes away so we were at our hotel, the Basilique, soon enough and out for a few sherbets at the bar next door.
We usually tour the first week of July so being the first week of September, we really noticed the shorter days.
Sunday:
Anton and I were up early for a pre-brekkie stroll around town.
The Hotel Basilique. Happy to recommend this one.
And the Hotel de Ville, or Town Hall.
After breakfast we loaded up and hit the road for our first full day’s ride. We were heading for the Morvan National Park to the west of Dijon which proved to be a day largely spent on roads like this…
...and this. I love these tree lined roads. There’s something quintessentially French about them and make me feel like I’ve arrived in France.
By the time we stopped in Sezanne, hoping to find a spot of lunch, it was registering 37 degrees C. We sat in a pizzeria, the only place we could find that was open, and spent half an hour or so being completely ignored by the owner so we left.
Sezzane.
The town tramp was having his daily wash in the fountain.
So after a few more miles of this...
We ended up stopping for a Quick one...that’s a French version of McD’s. It’s not what I had in mind but it was air conditioned which was nice considering the temperature outside.
We were soon in the Morvan National Park. Imagine somewhere like the Cotswolds if you will, it’s similar to that. I’d never been there before but it was very pretty...
...and the riding was very good too.
We finally arrived at our hotel, Le Relais de Lacs in Planchez. Unfortunately it was all locked up with no sign of life so we rode into the nearest town, Chateau-Chinon and found an alternative. The receptionist told us that the owner of the other place had died recently. Obviously we felt kind of bad for certain things we’d said.
Sid and Steve enjoying a beer. Maybe a little too much.
Day 3: Monday
The day began with a few more miles in the national park, dodging fallen trees...
...and enjoying the scenery.
And of course, enjoying the roads.
All too soon though, we left the park behind...
...and rode until it was time for a morning coffee.
This year we came upon quite a few road closures. Usually bridges being repaired. Sometimes, we managed to scramble through but at the broad River L’Ain, we were diverted several miles along a pretty gorge and over a viaduct.
Finally we had reached the mountains. Not quite to the Alps but the Jura Mountains to the west of Geneva. This beats my regular lunch break view.
The view down to Lac de Nantua in the distance.
Although I organise the trips, I’m happy for any of the guys to lead although they usually prefer me to. Anton however, has a habit of taking the lead spontaneously, just at the wrong moment, usually when the navigation is about to get trickier. On this occasion, he did just that and immediately took a wrong turn onto a motorway resulting in a twenty mile detour...well, for him. As usual, the rest of us just ignored him and went to find some shade.
Here we are welcoming him back.
The afternoon was spent climbing into the mountains, riding a few small passes and through more gorges...
...until we reached our lodgings for the night, Le Chalet de Cirque de Sainte-Meme. If, like me, you like out of the way places, then this might be right up your street.
Sorry, this is me. And that’s a miniature lamp post next to me, although officially a giant, I’m not that tall.
Well. That's the first three days and hopefully the photos have stuck this time around. If so, I'll carry on in a day or two.
Cheers,
