October 10, 2024
To Rognonas
The breakfast room has a different ambience this morning. For each of the last three there was a peculiar white-noise like background sound - silent, except for the intermittent chirping of a cricket. This continued each morning for about a half hour until our host replaced it with music, a pleasant and eclectic mix of light jazz, traditional rock numbers, and French vocalists.
Today though it’s just silent. Eventually though the host stops by the table to share the news - she got it. It really was a cricket, and it’s been driving them all to distraction for days. She finally found and caught it yesterday afternoon, tossed him out the window, and they can all think again.
We’ve chopped the ride to Arles in half with an overnight stop in Rognonas, an insignificant village that attracts us because it splits the ride almost exactly in half - 20 miles today, 21 tomorrow - and has a hotel. And also a restaurant that looks reasonable enough, as long as we arrive before it closes for the day at two. We plan on arriving at one to be on the safe side, so at 10:30 we’re outside loading the bikes.
Before we start though I decide to adjust my brakes. I’m usually pretty good at adjusting our disc brakes but today they defy me and I end up making them worse rather than better - one of the pads is jammed against the rim and I can’t correct it for some reason. I spend about ten minutes in an exercise in futility before finally giving up. We need professional help.
Fortunately we’re in a biking Mecca of sorts and help is literally around the corner, less than two blocks from our hotel. We head over to L’Officina, I poke my head in the door to pop the question, and it’s a relief when they wave me and the bike into the shop.
One of the two mechanics puts the BF on the rack and starts working with it but five minutes later he’s still at it and his partner has joined him for a consultation. It makes me anxious, but in the meantime while I wait I check out the clothing rack (I’m still looking for a replacement for my black Bassano de Grappa shirt that got destroyed in the wash almost a half year ago), find a shirt I like, take it up to a changing room to test the fit, and when I come back down the bike is waiting for me. No charge, but there might have been if I hadn’t bought the shirt I suppose.
So, a surprisingly fine start to the day. There’s crickets for crickets at breakfast, I’ve got brakes again, and I’ve got a new jersey! It makes me glad now that my brakes needed work since I’d never have stepped foot in this fine bike store otherwise.
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It’s an easy ride nearly the entire way, save for one spike right at the midpoint when we climb over a low ridge before dropping to the Rhone. It’s avoidable in theory, but not in practice - you could skirt the ridge on the east side but the road that way lands you on is a major highway down the Durance to Avignon, and no place for the bikes. The route I’ve mapped out for us is quite good, and very quiet nearly the entire way.
We don’t stop often, mostly because we’re behind schedule now because of the brake job and don’t want to be late for our lunch plan in Rognonas. When I see a heron standing nicely in a field though I have to stop, and then again when I see a pretty mix of sheep, jackdaws and cattle egrets. Which brings up something I’ve been meaning to mention - after a pretty dry (even though actually pretty wet) late summer I’m starting to see birds again, either because we’re nearer the sea or because they’re starting to gather for the fall migration. I’ve seen a few kestrels and buzzards in the last few days, and a stonechat and some partridges and greenfinches; and today along the Durance I’m pretty sure I even saw a pair of black storks out of the corner of my eye - what other large black bird looks like that? So that’s encouraging, making me think I might get to 300 for the year yet.
And speaking of, I’ve got a new bird to report! I was reading ahead to see what birds to be watching for when we get to the Camargue and then checking back against my ledger for the year to see what’s new I could be on the watch for. One surprise was this one, which somehow I failed to record even though we’ve seen hundreds of them.
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It’s nearing one when we drop from the ridge and come to the right bank of the Durance where we join what looks like a service road, now pedestrianized. We’re only four or five miles from the end of the ride now but the next three and a half are on this completely flat, empty, paved river road until we come to the bridge that will carry us across the river. You’d think they’d go fast, but not so because we’re biking into a 15 mph straight-on headwind blowing up the river the whole way.
At some point Rachael stops to change the battery in her GoPro and I continue on, planning to wait for her at the bridge. Right before I get there though I pass the open gate to a riverside restaurant and stop to take a look at the menu. When Rachael catches up she looks also and we agree this is perfect - we wheel our bikes inside, lean them against the wall, and enjoy an excellent meal. My pork whatever suits me well, but what really excites Rachael is her scallop cassoulet.
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It’s around two when we roll out. We’re only about a mile from our hotel now, with most of it spent on the bridge across the Durance - a not particularly attractive bridge or riding experience, but safe enough as long as the cross wind isn’t any fiercer than it is today. Our room is ready when we pull into our hotel, and we quickly settle in for an after-feast rest.
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Sound track: Samba Trieste, by Stan Getz and Charlie Byrd
A couple of hours later I’m off again, on a short loop I’ve sketched out that goes down to the Rhone and then back up through Barbentane, the intriguing village I biked out to from Saint-Remy a week or so ago. I was pleased when I realized we were staying so close to Barbentane because my visit then was a little more rushed than I’d have liked. And once I’m riding it occurs to me that I might bike a few miles more and stop by Frigolet Abbey, the one with the colorful interior that I missed seeing last time because it was too busy.
It turns out to be a fine ride, better than I’d been hoping for. I enjoy seeing the village again. the The is open and nearly empty, and when I get back to the village just before sundown the bakery on the corner is still open and fixes me up with my evening meal. And I rack up another 17 miles. That’s 37 for the day, nearly half my age! I’m starting to believe that my birthday ride might be happening this winter after all.
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Today's ride: 37 miles (60 km)
Total: 4,131 miles (6,648 km)
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