Getting away from Castres proved to be easy. I was headed to Mazamet where I could pick up the rail trail that goes to Bedarieux, but first I had to follow a fairly busy route . Luckily, the shoulder was wide and the drivers polite so apart from a big climb it wasn't at all difficult. A low flying cargo plane surprised me when it disgorged a long string of parachutists. I couldn't reach my camera fast enough to record them, though. There must be a military base near Castres where the army is training.
In Mazamet I got on the trail and headed east. It had the same surface as on the other side of the mountain, crushed stone and sand, but was not as well maintained. It was also apparent that more horses were ridden on the trail here than in the Herault. Have to watch the trail carefully to avoid the "obstacles"!
The trail climbs in to the hills and passes through pastures like these.
The trail had a few sections paved with asphalt, and on my speed picked up noticeably on the hard surface. I'm sure that the paving was not for the convenience of cyclists but for the passage of tractors and I passed several along the way. There were also a couple of stray cows that obligingly got out of the way for me to get by. After the paved section, the trail reverted to its sandy surface. This surface was severely eroded in places and I had to pick my way carefully around the wash-outs. Finally, I reached the highest point of the trail at the tunnel under the col de la Fenile.
Easiest col I ever crossed. The tunnel was well lit and the surface of the trail paved so I coasted down through the mountain.
Once out of the tunnel, it was just a short way to St. Pons, where I left the trail. I was back where I had been two days previously, and I had a good idea of where to find lunch. In a couple of minutes I was seated on the terrasse of a bistro in the center of town eating brochettes or skewers of chicken and spicy sausage and talking to the ladies at the next table about my tour. I probably should have paid more attention to my eating though as I choked on the food. Nothing serious, but embarrassing just the same. My choking fit over, I said goodbye to my lunch companions and headed for the next climb.
It was surprisingly easy, and not nearly as high as the climb I had made to the north of St. Pons. From here, the road descended for the next 20 kilometers, and I flew along gradually re-entering the Mediterranean ecology of olive trees, broom, and cypresses.
I made a side trip to see the village of Minerve which is perched over the river Cesse. The streak across the hillside in the background is the road I came in on. A car full of tourists pulled up next to me on this road and applauded and cheered. Gosh, it wasn't that
Leaving Minerve, I stopped and looked back. Its the setting more than the village that I find beautiful, but he way the buildings flow into the landscape makes for a nice whole.
From Minerve there was one more climb before coming onto the coastal plain. The col was only 163 meters though, so I didn't bother to take a photo. Once out of the hills I was on a long straight road to Narbonne. The Tramontane was blowing me along at over thirty kilometers an hour, which was nice, but the traffic started to pick up as I neared the city, so I looked for a parallel route that wouldn't reqire white knuckle concentration. I crossed the canal de Midi, and got off the highway there. The canal doesn't go to Narbonne, but navigating by the sun I eventually found a marked bike route that took me straight to the city center. A hotel friendly to bikes was quickly found (le Residence) and I booked my self in.
Walking downtown, I came across this band playing Charles Trenet songs in the city square. Trenet was born near Narbonne, and I like his music a lot, so it was a pleasant surprise.
