France Stage Five Report

Tim entrusted his titanium and carbon bike to the mother of Jesus, but only for a few minutes. It seems there were some non-believers milling around.

My legs felt great after an easy day. I was eager to jump on the bike.

This was the set up. Follow the green line (or blue line, depending on your choice at the moment) to the next hotel. We went through some beautiful canyons. I stopped to take photos and fell behind. With my GPS and the stunning views, I was not in a hurry.  The morning wasn't cold, but was comfortably cool. It was quiet and we felt like we owned the place. When the road turned up, I just thought of it as a chance to warm my bones. My training was paying off and despite the daily dose of kilometers (distance) and meters (climbing) we all seemed to be getting along just fine.

Just keep pedaling.

Did the engineers from Disneyland design this place? 

We were in a groove now. Wake a little after seven, breakfast at seven thirty starting with coffee and croissants and then coffee and fruit then coffee and muesli, then coffee and cheese.  Brush teeth, put on cycling costume and pack (didn't take long since all my shit was in my orange bag somewhere else on the planet. Drop my bag in the van, find my bike (or wheel them out from the daily "pit of despair" where they spent the night chained with a drawbridge sized chain.  Stuff my pockets with fruit and bars, fill my bottles and start riding about nine.

Tunnels can be fun!

The day was nice as it warmed up. We continued.  France is a special place.

Nearly every town, no matter how small, had a monument to honor those who died in the second world war. The number of names, in relation to the size of the town was always sobering. The hills where we rode were often where the French resistance hid during the war. While we spent hours enjoying the scenery and loving 2012, the constant reminders of dangerous times made me appreciate the sacrifice of those before me.

What do I say?

I went a little "Rapha" on this shot didn't I?

We were just loving the ride.  I was feeling good. After two days on the Velo Jaune (POS) and two days getting over that pain, it was time for me to let my legs do some talking.  A couple guys decided to stop at a cafe and then do the final climb. I wanted to push on, so I wished them well and followed the blue line. The climb had kilometer markers and I was riding tempo. I felt strong and turned it up.

I arrived at the hamlet where our hotel was located. In typical Horst fashion, our hotel was the highest one!

Kevin, Brad, Sam, 2020 John, and Horst chowing down.

Hottie found out they had found my orange bag! As if to bring the irony to a crescendo, they couldn't tell where it had been, but apparently it was now in Seattle.  I've never been so happy to have my luggage twelve thousand kilometers away!

By the way, I have been wearing a pair of Assos bibs and they are working great. Since Assos has "Ass" right there in the name, you have to expect their shorts would be great. My Mavic jersey is doing a fine job as well.