Rich Wine Country

July 22, 2018

Day 1: Beaune - Forest of Chaux. Rivers followed: Saône, Rhône-Rhine canal

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I slept very deeply indeed, tired out after a week of poor sleep in the heat and night on the ferry. I have noted down that I had odd dreams, but of course their content completely evaporated. I had a bit of a repeat of the previous nights unnecessary confusion trying to buy a couple of croissants at the restaurant before I left - since they were plainly listed for sale and on the counter, I don't know why it caused so much mystification to walk in and pay for a couple, but apparently it was. On paper the Beaune municipal camping is excellent, but I wasn't entirely sorry to leave.

But I was off and away! It was 9am, the weather was fair, and it was easy to pick up the route North out of Beaune and head out towards the village of Gigny. My plan for the day was to have a reasonably relaxing start. I had previously scoped out the enormous state Forest of Chaux, East of Dole. It wasn't quite a 100km day, but would surely provide some easy wild camping.

The country opened up and I stated to climb over rolling terrain, on broad but almost traffic-free roads. I crossed under and over the major roads leading to Dijon and Dole - my destination for the day - and continued to head to the small village of Argilly. The bike felt much more manageable today, and even pulling up the hills I felt relatively strong. I was surprised to glance down at the computer and see I'd covered 14km without really noticing.

The rolling terrain opens up - looking back towards Beaune

In one of the fallow fields I spotted a magnificent hare, to remind me of home

Impressive grand stone farmhouses in the village of Argilly

Up until this point I had been heading directly East. There was no way to directly cross the Saône which ran North-East and hence bared my way, and since this was a warm-up day I wanted to get off the road a little, and so elected to cut through the Forêt of Cîtaux. This would also be a test of what the Routes Forestier (RF) were really like - would they be accessible, and indeed physically cyclable? From my researches, I gathered that it seemed quite acceptable to cycle on them - many had various restriction signs, but I gathered they only applied to motor vehicles. Whether they would actually make viable cycling or not was another matter.

My Michelin "local" map did show Routes Forestiers, but only rather crudely - it was a road map, after all - so I didn't know I could entirely trust it. Coming out of Argilly it proved extremely accurate, however. I came out the village, crossed the main road, and was soon on the RF running North-East through the large forest - which proved to be a well-surfaced gravel road. The going was good, the sun was out, there was no traffic and butterflies were everywhere.

There were an impressive array of butterflies about. I cannot identify these (Nabokov would not approve).

The Route Forestier in the middle of the Forêt of Cîtaux. Easily cyclable.

I decided not to try to take a "short cut" through the woods - I didn't trust my map to that degree, and I didn't want to end up on the "A" road D996 by mistake. Instead I followed the RF, crossed the main road, and then headed back South towards Bonnencontre. From this point the Saône turns East, and I could follow it towards Saint Jean-de-Losne, from which I planned to pick up the cyclepath (also on my map) to Dole.

I emerged back onto the quiet back roads, and spun downhill towards Bonnencontre, my progress interrupted only be an enormous hedge-trimming machine, which pulled over to let me past. I passed through a series of large and prosperous villages: Bonnencontre, Charray-sur-Saône and Esbarres. The sun was high in the sky now, which was devoid of clouds and the heat was really picking up. While I was carrying quite a lot of water - I'd filled up my bladder with a 1.5 litres as well as my water bottles - I had drunk over a litre and decided to try to find more.

In Esbarres I stopped at the prominent church, which was also by the Marie. The church didn't have a tap, but the Marie did, right next to the (closed) door - it was a Sunday. I cheekily refilled my water bottles, and returned to my bike, much to the puzzlement of some roadies who had stopped by the church as well.

I decided to check my bladder, and found to my worry that the pannier it was in was rather damp, and it had clearly been (slowly) leaking. I had spotted it doing this earlier in the year, but could find the problem. I zip-tied up the valve, but then noticed a tiny hole right in the side which would slowly become damp. I considered getting out the puncture repair kit, then realised that a bit of tenacious tape would be better. "Bladder" repaired, I continued on my way.

From Esbarres I passed big grain silos, before descending to the level of the Saône and approaching the small town of St Jean.

Interesting iron pagoda in one of the large houses around here

Nice polychrome roof on the church in St. Jean

In line with my philosophy of taking it easy on the first day and not over-exerting myself, I thought I'd stop in St. Jean for lunch. The river-side was lined with restaurants, so I parked up the bike, and wondered over to the first one and asked in my best French for a table. Complet. Ah, ok. Next one - the same. The third place was just shut. I was somewhat suspicious, given that there were free tables around. I spent some time glowering at a waitress, assuming I was being turned away for being English/scruffy, until an obviously middle-class French couple asked and were given the same answer. It was Sunday lunch-time, to be fair.

I made my way down towards the campsite, which also advertised a restaurant, hoping it would be more laid-back than the one in Beaune. It was indeed, and they happily served me my slightly odd vegetarian option of salad and chips.

Having successfully lunched and reassured myself I wasn't being shunned, I picked up the cycle path which follows the Saône to the East, before peeling off on the Rhône-Rhine canal.

My fear was that the dedicated cycle route by the canal would be busier and less interesting - but in fact it was rather idyllic, weaving alongside the water in and out of the shade. As I passed through the village of Abergement, there was even a public point d'eau, which I took full advantage of to drink my fill and again refill my water bottles. It was really hot now, the sun beating down and causing me to break into sweat any time I wasn't in the shade, but cleverly I had managed to fail either to refill my water or use the toilet at the restaurant. For the latter I followed some signs - the "pay toilets" seemed to be a major attraction in the village - to relieve myself. As I came out some children approached me, and rather dolefully and politely asked if you needed to pay for the toilets. Ridiculously I didn't have another 30c in the right coins, but I gave them 20. As I cycled away they waved and shouted "goodbye" in English.

I continued on, seeing some impressive bird life - I saw more than a couple of herons swooping over the canal, which I tried (and failed) to photograph - combined with some impressively massive industry at Belvoye. It's so rare to see heavy industry on this scale in the UK and it still be operational, so even when it's somewhat ugly it's a bit of a novelty. There were signs along the canal that boats couldn't stop, and some kind of siren went off as I proceeded along. Actually, I wasn't certain that I was still on the official bike trail, and was somewhat relieved to see some other tourists coming the other way. We enthused about the herons, and passed along.

Canal route by the Rhone-Rhine canal. Just in the distance you can see a heron swooping over the water.

Some sort of loading apparatus for canal transport

I happily ate up the kilometres, and the towers of Dole soon came into view. Dole is a largish town on the Doubs, the major river of the region that has its source in the Jura, and flows West near the border with Switzerland and into the Saône, and thence to the Rhône and the Mediterranean. The canal had taken me between the shallow valleys of the Saône and the Doubs - they run parallel through this whole area. The Doubs both names the region, and provides an obvious valley running to the East into Alsace, almost (but not quite) reaching the Rhine. A relatively low range of hills separate the two rivers, and hence whether water is shed to the Mediterranean or the North Sea. You can see why a canal linking the two would be useful.

Dole is a very pretty town, birthplace of Louis Pasteur, with its oldest part spread up a steep hill away from the river. It also, in common with many French towns, is completely shuttered on a Sunday. I wheeled the shift up to the top of town, but there weren't any interesting (read: food) shops open, so down I came again. I crossed the Doubs, and hotly laboured up the over side of the slope. Here there was a small corner shop open - I picked up some camping provisions and local beer, and had a very animated chat with the friendly shop keeper about the heat, which was now noteworthy.

A quiet road coming into Dole. You can see the impressive towers in the distance - but unfortunately I failed to take any other photos of the place!

Still feeling strong, and with a bike now loaded with provisions, I continued along the main road South out of Dole. It was a fairly large road, but given it was Sunday evening the traffic was light, and the French drivers were sensible and courteous. I actually overshot a bit, and found myself in the suburban village of Villette-Lés-Dole. With some map searching I found a turn to Goux, which would take me to the edge of the forest.

In Goux I filled up my water bottles one last time - from a tap for the flowers by a war memorial. Even in a short day this was the third refill, and frankly was excessive, especially as I was carrying a litre of beer and another 1.5 litres in my (water) bladder - but the heat was intense now, and I have a keen and sometimes irrational fear of running out of water. I remember gazing thirstily at dirty water in ditches in Sweden when I was running low - when you're dehydrated, you can stop acting sensibly, which exacerbates the problem.

There was no danger of that now. I made my leisurely way out of Goux - I was in good time - and soon found an enticing looking turn to the North and the forest. I wasn't sure it was on my map, but took a chance on it.

The house of honey. Unfortunately was closed on the Sunday.

I think it's quite an impressive forest. Not banal at all.

The enticing little road leading North into the forest. I wasn't really sure where it went, but took a gamble on it...

The forest of Chaux is an odd place. It is essentially a modern plantation - like Thetford forest - but on a huge scale. The forest is about 25km by 15km in size, and is criss-crossed by a grid of roads 2-3km apart, most of them marked as Routes Forestier and closed to motor vehicles on my map. This seemed to be out of date - it looked perfectly possible to drive right through the forest. At every junction on this grid is a rather grand pillar and a forestry hut - the only real settlements in the forest, other than the numbered Baraques, which I didn't get the impression were still for military use.

I was quickly led into dense forest, but the road remained surfaced, and I was quickly rewarded by the sight of small deer dashing along in front of me. I even managed to keep quiet enough to sneak up on one, at least enough to take a picture.

After some kilometres, and passing a few cars obviously returning from days out in the woods, I reached a crossroads and set down to study the map and figure out where I was. It seemed that was half way to La Vielle-Loye, the only real village on the South side of the huge forest. I could run North of here to pass deeper into the woods, and reach the long Grand Contour route that passes the entire width of the forest from East to West.

One of the strange pillars at a conjunction of routes traversing the giant forest

I reached this main drag without difficulty, and then powered to the East. It was a great road - rolling but broad, and cutting all the time through dense forest. I saw one or two cars, and even a team of teenagers on loaded bikes going the other way who I greeted. RFs, dirt tracks and paths unsuitable for cars branched off into otherwise impenetrable woods - I had a chuckle at myself on my over-thinking how hard it would be to camp in this area.

I passed a signed turn back to the Baraques du Quatorze, which was a waypoint on my map. I was pretty much in the dead centre of the forest now, and figured I could camp anywhere that took my fancy. I added a few more kilometres to the total, and then passed an enticing looking dirt track heading off the the South. I glanced around to make sure no traffic was visible on the long, straight main drag, and then pulled the shift off the road and into the woods. The dirt track curved around, and emerged in a sunny clearing underneath broad-leaf trees. I was actually only about 200m away from the road, but was so shielded that I may as well have been deep in the forest.

My clearing in the woods that would be the campsite for the night. An idyllic spot with the dappled sun coming through the leaves.

The time was around 6pm, so I knew I had over three hours of daylight left. I fired up the stove and drank a coffee, then had one of the beers and a contemplate. Dinner was rather unimaginative pasta, but with olives, chilli and - very molten but still quite edible - blue cheese, it was pretty satisfying. I put up the tend and got to bed pretty early. I did make the mistake of listening to Blood on Satan's Claw as I drifted off to sleep, which mostly concerns strange things happening in the woods. Needless to say, I didn't leave the tent in the dark. Fortunately, other than some snuffling critters, no occult forces bothered me and I slept deeply.

A proper Blair Witch shot of my tent in the clearing at night. Who knew my pole fastenings where so fluorescent?

Today's ride: 92 km (57 miles)
Total: 117 km (73 miles)

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