Showing posts with label Cévennes. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Cévennes. Show all posts

September 17, 2013

Cevennes Mountains

Cevennes Mountains

The past two days have been full of amazingly beautiful riding through the Cevennes mountains, first from Florac to St Jean du Gard, the next day a loop ride from St. Jean du Gard to Col de Mercou and Col de l'Exil.

Double J, with double bikes ... his and mine. He met me enroute from Florac to St. Jean du Gard.

Double J and me as I left for St. Jean du Gard

I had the great pleasure of meeting Double J, who rode with me for most of a morning. It was a chilly (to me) misty day, but he rode west and met me on the road from Florac. He and his wife graciously offered me hot coffee and cookies in their warm kitchen. It was a wonderful experience to be able to learn something of the area, and ride on little picturesque roads that I would not have seen otherwise, with a knowledgeable resident!

Along the route which will lead to the Col de Marquairès

Near St. André de Valborgne

After visiting with them, I rode on to St. Jean du Gard.

Saint-Andre-de-Valborgne



Canyon on the Gardon River enroute to St. Jean du Gard


The next day I rode back into the Cévennes, to Col de Mercou and Col de l'Exil. The mountains are tree-covered in this region, with a topology that is hard to capture in a photograph, but important to the history and culture here.

The Cévennes

I believe the photographic difficulty lies in the way that a camera lens tends to flatten distances, making it hard to see that between higher ridges there can be many many lower ridges, with their ridgelines varying in direction sometimes north-south, but equally likely somethig different.

Road leading to Col de Mercou

Twisting valleys in the Cévennes

This means that it would be very difficult to find your way deep into the twisting valleys on foot, or horseback, unless the traveler knows them intimately. From many vantage points I have been able to look down, and imagine that it would (especially before modern travel with our planes and  cars) take generations to be truly familiar with the landscape.

Roads climbing up out of the valley

Important to the area's culture and history because the rugged terrain has traditionally provided a relatively safe place to various communities, including during the Wars of Religion to Protestants, who found shelter here, and a base from which to fight for their beliefs.

Climbing to Col de l'Exil

Later during WW2 the mountains were home to large numbers of organized resistors who fought fiercely against the fascists ... whether those fascists were German, or French.


These histories linger here, a part, it seems to me, of cultural memory.


My ride the following day took me back into the mountains, on a loop that crossed three cols (passes, in French.) The riding was never very steep, and my bike Papillon and I traveled faster without the weight of panniers, left behind in the lovely chambre d'hotes where I am staying.


This post should have links, and more history, but I need to get moving, so will add them after returning home. This morning I head to Nimes.




View Florac to St. Jean-du-Gard in a larger map

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October 17, 2010

1| Prologue

 As a schoolgirl, I spoke pretty good schoolgirl French, and from the age of 8 dreamed of visiting France. In 2009, I turned 60 and decided to go … for the first time. Call me level-headed and deliberate if you want, but life intervened.

I convinced my husband, Roy, planned a route in southern France, starting in Provence at Avignon, riding through the Languedoc to Toulouse:  Avignon, Orange, Apt, Aix-en-Provence, Arles, Sète, Béziers, Carcassonne, Toulouse: about 500 generally very flat miles. In late May 2009 we spent two weeks on the bike, staying in hotels and chambre d’hôtes (bed and breakfasts,) followed by a week in Paris.

Before leaving, I crammed the French language into my head. Every day I stuffed more in. And trained on the bike. I had a fabulous, wonderful, time … loved France, loved the bicycling, got by on my very poor language skills thanks to the kindness of strangers. Never believe that the French are rude. My husband had an OK time, good even, he says. This year, 2010, he decided to stay home and I decided to return to France, this time solo, appreciative of his  encouragement and support, and drawn to the possibilities of solo travel. (My first solo cycling trip was in 2008 when I rode around Lake Champlain, from Vermont up into Canada, that time also staying in bed & breakfasts, and had a blast. But it was essentially my backyard, since I live barely 100 miles south, in Massachusetts.)


Last year in France, two of the following three things would have made an even better trip: stronger language skills, a tent, or more money. More money would have removed the sometimes stressful need to find available rooms in low-cost lodgings, which always seemed to fill first, but more money is not an option. Anyway, a good part of what I hoped solo travel would offer is more opportunity to meet other travelers, particularly other cyclists, and hotels minimize human contact. So, I spent the year since the last trip improving my language skills and my cycling skills, and bought a sweet super-light solo tent, sized perfectly for me. I also bought, at the last probable minute, a terrific bike, better suited to loaded touring and climbing hills. I say probable minute, because really, it probably isn’t very sensible to buy a new bike immediately before a trip. And bought a second set of panniers.

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