first day out: an intro to cycling in Beaujolais

We started out our cycling tour on Dad's birthday which was more than fitting. I got up early and made sure that everything was packed because my host family had told me that anything I left I'd have to return to get. The morning itself went pretty smoothly. I arrived earlier than anticipated at my parent's hotel and because the door was locked in the morning, waited outside until Dad came and got me. From there we made our way to the train station and, as we found ourselves with plenty of time, were able to stop for coffee and tea. As we'd purchased some croissants and fruits the day before in Beaune we didn't have to worry too much about for breakfast but it was nice to sit down and stop for just a bit.

When our train came through we boarded and got ourselves comfortable, Dad taking control as the Man In Charge of Baggage. Naturally as we were so anxious to get going and a bit nervous about the trip in general, we made a few mistakes. Our train made several stops before our destination and one of them at 8:45. As this was the time of our expected arrival in Macon, we got up and got off. At the wrong station. The train pulled away and both Mom and I were left to explain to Dad just how we'd gotten off at the wrong station (the time, we didn't ask a conductor, nerves). Regardless it became apparent that we couldn't just catch the next train headed to Macon as the next train wouldn't arrive until 1PM.

Mom attempted to hitch a ride with a group of French cyclists (doomed from the start), called Cyclomundo to tell them the situation and I talked to the station master to try to figure out how to get to the right place. We soon figured out that a bus would be coming in about a half an hour and that it would reach Macon a half hour later. Multiple forms of French public transportation was our saving grace. When the bus arrived mom made me double check with the driver that the bus would drop us off at the Macon train station and I did so.

The half hour passed relatively quickly and it was only traffic that slowed our arrival. Once there we soon spotted our guide who helped us with our baggage and then set off for our Hotel (Chateau de la Barge) where we'd be starting our trek. As we drove there we looked at the maps she'd given us that marked our daily trips. I can remember clearly as my Dad's eyes widened in fear at the small maps which marked our journey. In our little flip books they were maps of the area with all the small intersecting roads, town and land mass names overlaid with thick blue lines that showed our journey each day. There were no turn by turn directions and the path was anything but clear.  He asked "do we get a GPS?" and when our guide said yes he sighed in obvious relief.

The Hills of Beaujolais with Solutre Rock in the background.

When we reached our Hotel (a picturesque manor set back from the road) we changed into our cycling gear and then Dad set about working (with our guide) to get our bikes all set up. Both he and Mom had brought each of our pedals and then their seats and he worked on getting us all road ready. Mom and I filled our water bottles but mostly left our personal bike mechanic to it.

As soon as the bikes were set our guide showed us how the GPS worked and this was where the warning bells went off. Firstly our guide clearly did not have any idea how to work the GPS (and we later learned that this GPS had never been used before). Secondly we soon discovered there was no turn by turn navigation. Thinking everything would be alright we set out but things kept going wrong. We rode up and down hills, took turns and then turned around all the while being told that we were "off course". There were repeated stops at the side of the roads with both Mom and I examining our maps trying to figure out both where we were and how we could get on track. Dad made the discovery that our GPS loop never began at the hotel and that we didn't have any actual directions to get to the beginning of our loop. Our GPS was just an arrow on whitespace that turned as we did and marked the path we were going on (but only once Dad told it to) but only said "off track" when we were off track. I had horrible visions of the rest of our trip: us cycling and then stopping, consulting maps, getting lost in the Beaujolais countryside and only barely making our destinations.

When we finally did get on our intended track and figured out our route, I had never been more relieved. By this time it was one in the afternoon and we had only just started a 70K (40 mile) route in the hilly Beaujolais countryside. We made minor stops to take pictures but for the most part we were focused on the road and making as much mileage as was possible.

At around two o'clock we began looking for a place to get some food but every restaurant or cafe we passed in the villages was closed. I felt myself getting increasingly more hungry and tired. The worst hit as we were going up a very gradual hill. I felt incredibly slow and since the hill had such a low gradient my opinion of my cycling skills plummeted. Dad dropped back to be with me while Mom kept going steadily up. At one point I stopped, exhausted and didn't know how I'd get back on and get to the top of a hill that wasn't in sight but Dad coaxed me back on and road by my side in a high gear. His presence was an immeasurable help and when he put his hand on my back and helped to push me onward I felt both relief and failure. When he later told me that he had to do that sometimes for his own cycling friends the failure slipped away and I was just grateful.

Photo via Dad of the Beaujolais hills.

Eventually with his coaching and encouragement we made it to a turn. We stopped where Mom was waiting and I inhaled some energy gummie bears. Our day was far from over but with a little more energy in me I felt capable of continuing even though there was plenty more climbing to do. It wasn't until the top of the climb when my parents noticed that my legs were shaking that we knew we all needed food fast and that we'd have to take a short-cut because the rest of the ride at my state and at the time of the day was just impossible. I recognized the name of a town that our map marked on a road sign and instead of following our path we took it. Going downhill was a relief but it didn't relieve our hunger. At the first village we stopped and I asked a shopkeeper where we could get some food only to be told "nowhere". Apparently in the Beaujolais region, Tuesday was a day in which nothing was open. After the Sunday in which nothing was open and the Pentecost Monday in which little was open, to find out that the one time in which we really needed some food was a day in which nothing was open as well, was laughable (for the future) but mostly incredulous. Dad said "It's a fasting ride" and Mom answered by saying that she hardly thought I needed a fast.

With this new information in mind, I asked the woman directions to the town in which our Hotel was situated and when she gave them to us, we set off. The ride back was mostly downhill and went by pretty rapidly with the only incidents being GPS related that we quickly resolved. At the Hotel we asked if we could have some food seeing as how we'd missed our lunch destination, and they offered some salads and cheese. We changed and they brought out beautiful salads as well as a cheese cart with which we were able to pick from. Mom made sure I drank my entire bottle of electrolyte enhanced water while we had our well earned food.

After we changed into our swimsuits and cooled off in the pool. In my swim suit I noticed that the sun and my cycling shorts had resulted in a very clear tan line that would persist well until the end of the summer.

Cooled off and with nourishment we all napped and then woke up in time for dinner outside. Dinner itself was an incredible treat and was both fancy but also filling. I had beef as the main course while my parents both had duck which our waitress jokingly (in what we think was a laughing at us situation) told us that it was "lady duck" which apparently makes a difference as long as taste goes. For dessert mom and I had hoped that Dad would get a candle (since we had asked that morning and they'd told us they would) but there was no candle and instead we just wished him a happy birthday.

Stomachs full and with a long day ahead of us we went to bed.