Category: bikes
So strangely enough I haven’t been doing any mountain biking this Summer, but I have still been out cycling round town. Right now I’m actually more at ease on the bike than I am sitting or lying down, as the Surly LHT lets my bump hang in a really comfortable spot – and biking is a lot less pressure on my feet than walking, so cycling is all good as far as I’m concerned.
For some reason I hadn’t gotten around to biking the Legacy Trail yet though – it’s the new bike trail between Banff and Canmore, only just completed a month or so ago. Well, completed in the sense that it’s all sealed, but doesn’t actually have any bridges yet – so for the five missing bridges, you have to cycle onto the highway shoulder for a bit. Aside from that, and the slightly annoying gates to open and close near the Banff end, it’s an awesome little trail, and is getting a lot of traffic.
From my work to home it’s about 23km – and feels more like five, the road just flies by.
Categories
Ha Ling Peak again
No-one else wanted to come and play, so I did a solo bike-hike up Ha Ling (aka Chinaman’s) Peak. The trail was still pretty snowy – though down low there were some bare/mud/killer ice patches, then it was back to packed snow of varying slush levels.
The Yaktrax worked great for it (underneath the shoe they’re a diamond pattern of wire spiralled over rubber – grippy enough unless you’re on ice, then something spiky would be better – apparently some people don’t like the Yaktrax as they fall apart? Maybe if you’re running in them).
On the next morning we left our bikes behind to guard the apartment and tried walking around Paris. Our walking muscles had atrophied, and this proved to be a task more challenging than expected. Around as many of the major sights we could manage, and through random little back streets and interesting areas, in and out of shops and museums, until meeting up with friends for hot chocolate later in the day. This was the best hot chocolate I’ve ever had, and I may never be able to drink a normal hot chocolate ever again. Rather unfortunately it was followed up by the best falafel I’d ever had, in the Jewish section of town. With our cyclist’s appetites still fully intact, we then went out for a second dinner with the friends we were staying with, and swore we’d never be able to eat normal food again.
The following morning had us repacking and riding our bikes down to catch the Eurostar at Gare du Nord. We’d decided to pay the extra to have our bikes transported fully assembled – which was definitely worth it given the lower levels of hassle, and the small luggage space available for normal luggage on the train. Even our pannier sacks (the trusty cheap stripy plastic woven bags) took up a lot of room.
We cleared through French and UK immigration without any problems – there were no Schengen zone questions directed as Alex. This was something which we’d worried about – Australian nationals are now limited to 3 months travel within the Schengen zone, making extended European trips illegal. But I’m a dual EU/Australian citizen, and technically as we were married and he’s a visa waiver national then we could live and work in any country – we just have to register by 3 months. Travelling should also be covered under this provision, but I didn’t really want to have to argue the point, and didn’t have any documentation to help back me up. Due to the lack of stamps in his passport it wasn’t really obvious when we’d entered the Schengen zone, which we’d been in for just a little over 3 months – I can see this being a problem if we’d hit an uncooperative border guard, even if we’d been in the Schengen zone for under 3 months, as the onus is on you to be able to prove it.
The Eurostar seemed to take no time at all, and the chunnel section was barely obvious – maybe one day it will be a glass tunnel so we could stare out at all the plastic floating around in the sea. Then finally – London. We grabbed the man who was trying to escape to somewhere inconvenient with our bikes, and reattached panniers, exited to meet our mountainbiking old family friend who was meeting us, and headed off into London, and a much less simple world.
We got going along the river once more – it was fast cycling past lots of vineyards still in the full swing of harvest, and a sunny warm-ish day. After finding a bakery in Remich we continued on to shop for groceries in Germany, then onwards along the river into France. As we crossed the border, the bike path was suddenly filled with lycra-clad road bikes. On arriving on the outskirts of Thionville we discovered that the campground was closed for the season, and so instead we disappeared into the forest by the Cattenom Nuclear Plant – nice and scenic it is too.
Our forest was noisy and spent the night dripping on us. From here we just had to return to the Moselle River, then find our way to Metz where we had a warmshower.com host organised for the night. The cycle path continued to Thionville, where we ended up on an unpleasantly busy road for a few kilometers before finding our way onto a new cycle path by the canal and river. It took us most of the way to Metz, until we hit the workmen who were still making the bikepath ahead of us. They shooed us onto the road, and from there we headed into Metz to see the sites – such as the impressive cathedral and multitude of yellow sandstone buildings. Before too long it was 4pm and we met our warmshowers.com host and returned to her apartment where we were offered all manner of tasty treats and hospitality (and were introduced to the card-game Set, which could get incredibly addictive).
The following morning brought drizzly and miserable weather, but at least it was warm. As we packed our groceries into our panniers outside a supermarket in Metz, a man came up and asked us a question in French – we weren’t sure what it was, but on hearing the word ‘kilometer’ I showed him the odometer on my bike computer. “Magnifique!†He responded… followed by some effusive sentences and some more French we didn’t understand. That’s one thing about France – we haven’t found the roads or drivers the best, but there have been a lot of displays of random enthusiasm from passing cars and cyclists and pedestrians.
Initially the road we were following was quite busy and full of ups and downs, but gradually the road grew quieter and the drizzle eased, and we were surrounded by war memorials and graves. Cycling along a plateau with Autumn trees lining the road we grew closer to Verdun, then just a few more hills and we descended into town. The fort and statues and fountains and old walls and river and such things were admired, then we headed out of town as the sun set to find some forest to camp in.
As we cycled out of our little patch of forest, we passed one of the Army signs informing us that the area we’d just left was one of the no-go Red Zone areas (areas that were physically and environmentally destroyed during the First World War, remaining closed due to hundreds of thousands of human and animal corpses and millions of unexploded ordnance that contaminated the land)…. Oops. We’d entered it from farmland on the other side, where there had been no signs. Well we hadn’t come across any unexploded munitions, and hopefully had been respectful enough that any ghosts haunting the area hadn’t been bothered by our presence.
Another rainy day, it started with mizzle, moved on to drizzle, then decided on some real rain. We cycled on through the rain, along small roads crossing rolling hills, dead hedgehogs, and huge piles of what I assumed were turnips but are apparently sugar beets. Then we retired to a dripping patch of forest – we’d hardly seen another soul all day.
Well the following morning the rain had gone, but the empty rolling landscape was beginning to get a bit repetitive, even if the autumn trees lining the roads were very pretty. We dreamt of being on the French Riviera. Or maybe somewhere in Italy, or Greece… maybe Turkey? Cycling through town we found an open bakery, and a French Army man stopped to chat with us, telling us about the training he’ll be doing in the mountains soon.
Around 12.30pm I called for lunchtime. Alex told me it’s only 11.30am and not time for lunch yet. “No it isn’t!†I declared in alarm. We both checked our cameras, which confirmed the 12.30 verdict. It occurred to us then that this being a Sunday, Daylight Savings had probably just ended, and the GPS was clever enough to know this. Alex tried to claim that it was still too early for lunch, but my stomach allowed no arguments.
Gradually the sun came out to glare at us from between the clouds. We passed a few cyclists on roadbikes, and motorcyclists who waved and made peace signs at us. Then it was just the standard piles of sugar beets and a headwind for the rest of the afternoon.
Then sun now rose at the incredibly early hour of 7.16am, so we could be on the road easily not long after 8. Making good time along the small quiet roads we were soon on the Seine River plain – although we barely saw the river at all, we were just picking our way along near it on small roads. Lunching on baguette and a very tasty Camembert (oh French cheese, how I will miss you), we continued into a headwind – but at least it was sunny.
On reaching Montereau we found an actual campground, and after settling down for the night realised that we would probably have been better off hunting for somewhere free to camp. The showers were the trusty old ‘pull and hold chain to make water come’ variety, with only one temperature setting: ‘hypothermia inducing’. The toilets were manky and dirty, and the whole place seemed to mainly work as short-term accommodation for workers in town – who were being noisy and drinking all night.
The next morning we were on the final stretch into Paris. And a foggy morning! I’d missed the foggy mornings recently. We continued picking our way on small roads, occasionally getting trapped and doubling back, and doing our best to avoid riding on the busier roads, which were more than a little hairy in the fog.
Finally the fog burnt off around midday, and we lunched by the Seine on a patch of grass that even had wifi available, as well as copious amounts of sunlight and some swans. We ended up going through some interesting urban areas on our way in, but then gradually made it to the outskirts of Paris proper, with views of the Eiffel Tower, just as the sun was getting close to the horizon. We battled the traffic into town, with more and more bike lanes gradually appearing.
Our destination was an old friend’s place near the Bastille – but we were early, so found a nice patch of street with a cheese shop, bakery/patisserie, wine shop, fruit&veg shop and bookshop all next to each other. If you lived above them you’d hardly have to leave the area. Finally we finished our dinner and moved on to my friends place – the panniers were removed from the bikes and the bikes locked up for the final time. Sad but exciting.
Distance cycled: 517km
Sleeping arrangements: Wild camping, warmshowers.com, campground and friend’s house
Days of rain: 2/7
Public toilets: Available
Bike friendliness: Good until we got close to Paris, then it was harder to find quiet roads, and the busy ones didn’t have much shoulder
Free wifi availability: Well we found one lot of free wireless at least