Today I was parting ways with Team Anderson: they were heading east up the Lot River whereas my route was south, to the Aveyron and Tarn rivers. Our routes out of Bouziés overlapped for the first few miles, so we planned to head out together not too long after breakfast as rain was predicted by mid-afternoon. It was cloudy and chilly as we rode out of town, pausing for one last picture on the suspension bridge before turning up the Lot River. I savored these last miles along the Lot, under soaring cliffs and in the company of Scott and Rachael - we’d had some magical rides and memorable moments over the last few days, and I look forward to when we might meet again.
My destination today was Saint-Antonin-Noble-Val, a place I first visited while wandering through southwest France in 2019. After bidding farewell to Team Anderson, I turned south and climbed up through the woodlands of the Causses du Quercy to the small village of Concots. The woods were rich in yellows and burnt orange, full of moss-covered stone walls that told of former homesteads and pastures. It reminded me a bit of Vermont, which is said to once have been two-thirds open land, but is now two-thirds wooded.
I was charmed by Concots, finding an open bakery and a food truck selling meats and cheese. I sat for a spell on a rock wall near the church, munching my croissant and watching the comings and goings of a small town on a fall day. A pack of school kids scurried by on their way to a noontime event - some with shy smiles, a few bonjours, and, when encouraged, big waves of greeting. I marveled at my good fortune and continued on.
Leaving the Lot and heading south up to the Causse plateau
The route continued to gradually gain elevation as I rolled along the Causse, passing through Escamps and Bach on the way to Jamblusse, a place I refer to as the “stone hamlet”. It seemed the entire place consisted of dry stone structures - wells, walls, barns, houses. I became a little obsessed, especially with the stone walls and the large slabs that anchored their ends. I lingered there quite a while, taking scores of pictures, but finally moved on when the clouds became a bit more ominous and I remembered that it might rain.
Soon after leaving Jamblusse, the narrow road widened, with a better surface and a line down the middle. The reason was not immediately apparent until I realized I had entered a military base – the Caylus Military Camp, garrison for French parachute regiments and brigades. The base was vast, 5500 hectares, and it was almost five miles before I left it’s southern border near Loze. During that time I saw one apparently civilian car and at least two dozen military vehicles, including a convoy of military trucks/transport vehicles that passed while I was going uphill – I didn’t want to stop on the hill, hence no pictures. Despite all the warning signs and sounds of distant gunfire, I felt safe, comforted by the friendly waves of soldiers in the passing vehicles. Even so, it was a bit surreal imagining all the military exercises that might take place in the seemingly bucolic countryside through which I traveled. I only wished I'd witnessed some parachute drops.
I finally left the military base, passing down through Loze and continuing along tree-lined roads that offered only glimpses of the surrounding countryside. By the time I reached Caylus, I was anxious to get to Saint-Antonin-Noble-Val and passed through without a look. The last miles into Saint-Antonin-Nobel-Val were a repeat of a magical ride I’d taken there in 2019 – after a long afternoon in the rain, I seemed transported down a smooth, newly sealed road through a canopy of plain trees. That seven-mile stretch along the Bonnette River had been exhilarating, completely reversing my gloomy mood. I was a bit anxious today to see if the magic remained and, to a very large extent, it had. The road had been patched a bit and I was not in the doldrums, but the plain trees and limestone cliffs above the Aveyron retained their magic.
After settling into the B&B, I walked over to the main square of this medieval town and ordered Pad Thai from a small take-out window. I’d booked two nights here, so there was plenty of time to explore tomorrow, either on bike or foot, depending on the weather.
Today was a rainout, a rest day. I managed to go out in the drizzle to stock up on some supplies, but otherwise spent most of the day catching up on the journal and route planning/hotel booking for my last week on tour. I celebrated my off-the-bike productivity with a wonderful meal at Auberge de Sens, my second visit to one of the best restaurants in town. I’m really looking forward to my ride tomorrow – the first part of which is a repeat of a 2019 ride that dramatically changed my outlook on cycle touring. More about that in the next post, right now it’s way past time for lights out.
Today's ride: 36 miles (58 km) Total: 3,193 miles (5,139 km)
