Descending the many switchbacks to Ste. Enimie (Lozère) in the Gorges du Tarn
(Click on thumbnail photos to see a larger version.)
Sep.
8: (46 km; rain; 15°C/59°F) It was raining when we got our
bikes from the garage. We put the rain covers on everything and put our ponchos
on again and did the short climb out of Langogne. From there we descended slowly
to the little river Allier. We followed the twists and turns of the river into a
strong headwind that was driving this ugly weather up from the flooded
Mediterranean coast. (Each evening we had been watching the TV news.
It was showing us images of people walking in thigh deep water from the floods in New
Orleans from hurricane Katrina followed by images of people walking in thigh deep water
from the floods in Nîmes and Montpellier in southern France.) We
climbed right into low clouds at la Bastide-Puylaurent where we paused, mailed a
letter, ate a pastry and huddled under an overhang hoping the rain would
subside. No chance! We climbed out, still in the clouds with less than 100 m
visibility. After about 2 km of climbing we reached the Col de Thort (1120 m)
and the descent began: 8 km of twisting road, with the wind still driving the
pelting rain into our faces and our soaked and spongy brakes on much of the
time. On a sunny day this would have been fun but today it wasn't! At
Prévenchère the only café was closed so we descended again briefly, crossing
the end of a lake created by a dam and then climbed steeply again for almost 2
km before levelling again. We passed by the historic hamlet of la Garde-Guérin (l'un
des plus beaux villages de France), a couple of hundred metres off
the main road. This was probably the most
annoying aspect of the rain those past few days. We were seeing nothing!! Our days
were spent head down, slogging through puddles just trying to get to the next
stop. Any interesting places we passed en route were ignored because of the misery
of cycling in the rain. We began the descent into Villefort after passing
la Garde-Guérin, twisting and turning down the side of the mountain with a spectacular
misty canyon beside us and a dam holding back a lake far below. We crossed
the dam when we finished the descent, rode into the town of Villefort and found
our hotel. As I wrote these notes in our hotel room I was surrounded by wet pannier covers, wet panniers, wet clothes and wet shoes, all
hanging around the room drying (we
hoped) while the rain continued to pour outside the window. I told Carol that I
would not cycle in France in September again. She argued that this weather was
unusual but I don't care! And it just kept getting better! I walked up to the
railway station to buy our tickets for the 9 am train to Mende (pronounced
"mon duh") the next day from
where we would cycle to Ste. Enimie in the Gorges du Tarn. (The
ride around the massif of Mont Lozere would have been too much for one
day for two old cyclists and there was no mid-ride stopping place so we had
planned to take the train for that leg.) The ticket agent said
"Pas de trains!"("No trains!") I
thought "Please, not another rail strike!" but he said "L'inondation!"
("The flooding!") "Are there any buses?"
"No. Perhaps there'll be a train tomorrow but right now I don't know. If not the 9
am train then perhaps the 2:30 pm train. Call me at 7:30 am. I'll know more by
then. " It looked like our hotel, the Hotel Balme, had an exceptional
restaurant so we decided to make the best of that night and then, as Scarlett
said, "After all .... tomorrow is another day." ( Today's
route )
Sep. 9: (32 km; sunny; 25°C/77°F) It was
overcast when we awakened but the rain had stopped sometime during the night.
The chef/hotelier phoned the station for us to see if the trains would be
running. He was told to call back in a half hour. We decided to go to the
station just in case there was a train and it was on time. I told the hotelier
that we enjoyed our stay and that the meal we had was superb (in fact,
the best of our trip. Hotel Balme in Villefort!) but I hoped we
would not be seeing him again that day. He understood. The stationmaster was
still awaiting the call when we arrived. He said if all goes well there could be
a train by 9:15 am. We went back into town for café and pain
aux raisins as some blue patches appeared in the sky and then we returned to
the station. He told us that the train had left Alès and would be in Villefort by about 9:30.
Relief!! Our alternative would have been very bad - cancelling reservations and
staying another night in Villefort and then 100 km over mountainous
terrain the following day. The train retraced our route north to la
Bastide-Puylaurent,
passing through many short tunnels and granting us occasional glimpses of green
mountains and deep valleys, the sights we didn't see on our way south, heads down
with the wind and rain in our faces. At la Bastide-Puylaurent we turned west and circled
around the north side of the huge massif of Mont Lozère. It was very mountainous
terrain. I was glad we were on a train. We arrived in Mende at 10:50 am, just a
half hour behind our original schedule. The old core of the city near the XIV -
XVI c Gothic cathedral was typical of a medieval town: narrow cobbled streets -
no rectangular grid here! We crossed the XIII c Pont Notre Dame and then headed
out of town on the route nationale for 7 km before crossing the Lot river
and starting the 5 km climb to the Causse de Sauveterre, 300 m above us. (A
causse is a limestone plateau.) 
Seven switchbacks
later we were atop the causse and heading across the nearly treeless
plateau. Our Michelin map didn't show any climbs or descents but since at one point I
had to walk my bike up a steep hill and on one descent I hit 61 km/h as I sped down
I think Michelin needs to review these sections of their maps. At
the hamlet of Sauveterre we began the fast twisting 9 km descent to Ste. Enimie
on the Tarn river, 550 m below. Our brakes still felt "soft" after our
three days of rain so we were extra careful. Our first look at the Gorges du
Tarn and the "plus beau village" of Ste. Enimie came from high above.
The village was swarming with tourists and there are lots of bars and souvenir
shops, etc., lining the river front but back of that line-up is the medieval
village. Tiny lanes, just a couple of metres wide, twist and turn in a maze
surrounding the little church and continue up the hill to the site of an old
abbey. It really is a pretty little place - but too many tourists! (Not us, of
course. The others!) I wrote these notes sitting on the terrace of our hotel with
the Causse de Sauveterre towering behind me and the slightly higher Causse du
Mejean showing its cliff face in front of me. In between is the Tarn river and
it is this deep gorge that has attracted all the tourists. We would see the most
spectacular section of the gorge the next day. After the gourmet meal the
previous evening in Villefort we split another salade de gésiers confits and a
pizza for our supper. ( Today's route
)
In the medieval streets of Ste. Enimie (Lozère)
Sep. 10: (69 km; rain; 17°C/64°F) It was
not a good sign to see clouds hanging on the mountains when we awakened so, as a
precaution only, we put the rain covers on the panniers. It started raining
about 15 minutes after we left the village but stopped a few km later just in time for the
most spectacular section of the gorge. Over many thousands of centuries the
river has eroded this deep canyon between the two causses with cliffs as
high as 500 m in some places. It's a breathtaking
sight and this day, with the mist hanging on the cliffs here and there, it
was really beautiful. At least it was until it started to rain again, this time
a little more earnestly. The narrow road follows the meandering route of the
river, never climbing or descending more than a few metres so it's easy cycling
but you must pay attention to traffic, especially on the many curves and in the
few short tunnels. But the rain was so depressing. I hated what it had done to me.
For the first time in my 17 cycle tours in France I had begun to count the days
until we were leaving. We cycled straight through to Millau (pronounced
"me yo") and then on to the
suburb Creissels in the strongest rain of the day. We checked into the Chateau
de Creissels - a genuine chateau with parts of it dating from the XII c - and
once again our room was festooned with panniers and pannier covers and ponchos
and shoes and clothes, all hung in a desperate attempt to get them dried out
before next morning. The meal at the chateau was a little disappointing. (
Today's route )
The spectacular Viaduc de Millau that spans the Tarn valley and carries the traffic of the "Méridionale", the A75 autoroute.
(This looks like an artist's rendition but this is the real bridge, spanning the Tarn gorge high above it! Check out the photos at http://www.archibase.net/archinews/7740.html )
Sep. 11: (62 km; sun &
cloud; 24°C/75°F) There were a few spots of blue in the sky but the
forecast was for possible morning rain so we put on the rain covers (that
had dried out! Again, amazingly, everything was dry in the morning!) We stopped in
Millau for coffee & pastry and picked
up some lunch stuff - it was Sunday and everything closes at noon - and headed
across the Tarn to follow the little river Dourbie. The river has cut a deep
canyon between the Causse Noir and the Causse de Larzac. It is not as dramatic
as the Tarn gorge but it is quite spectacular nonetheless. By the time we
stopped for our pause café in the pretty hamlet of la
Roque-Ste. Marguerite the sky was blue! As we continued I became more aware
of a rattle in my rear wheel and finally discovered two loose spokes - perhaps
broken but if so not obviously. Spoke replacement and/or wheel truing are among
the many skills just beyond my abilities in bike repair. So I was a
little anxious because we were going to be in an under-populated region and it
could have been as many as four days before I could get to a town with a bike
repair shop. We continued south through the canyon, passing the perched villages
of St. Véran (birthplace of the Marquis de Montcalm, the
French general whose forces were defeated at Québec in 1759, turning control of
Canada from the French to the English) and Cantobre sitting on the edge of the Causse Noir, high above the
river. We stopped in Nant at the end of the canyon and had our lunch - baguette
with Roquefort cheese - the blue-veined sheep's cheese from the nearby village
of Roquefort and the best cheese in the world! The little XI c church of St.
Pierre in Nant was a copy of all the others we had seen - small, dark, massive
pillars, low nave. 
We
climbed out of town for 7 km up to the Causse de Larzac. Once on the causse
we had another 2 km climb as dark clouds menaced and thunder rumbled before
descending to la Couvertoirade ("l'un
des plus beaux villages de France") This
fortified village was built 6 centuries ago to protect the inhabitants from the
predators on both sides in the Hundred Years War and is remarkably intact.
Busloads of tourists joined the many from cars (and the two on
bicycles). It's a
popular spot. There was a brief intense shower while Carol, protected by her
umbrella, toured the walled village and I, umbrella in my pocket, waited in a
café for the rain to stop. Carol said she really got a feeling of what it might
have been like in a XV c village in France. (I did go into the village after the rain stopped. I'm not a completely uncultured
oaf!) One short climb and then a coast down into le Caylar, our stop for
the night. ( Today's route
)
Sep. 12: (49 km; sunny; 25°C/77°F) We
left le Caylar, a disappointing little town. At one time it had been on the route nationale
and it must have been more prosperous but now, bypassed by the A75 autoroute, it is in
obvious decline. The medieval back streets that might have been rejuvenated are
now in decay. We headed east across the Causse de Larzac choosing the small D152
to St. Michel-Ayalou. We had a lovely serpentine 4 km descent from there through
the garrigue (dry scrubby vegetation, reminiscent of New Mexico). Past the hamlet of
Soulagets we took an even smaller paved country lane, no
more than 3 m wide, where we saw no cars, only goats. At St. Maurice-Navacelles (just
7 km away from the incredible Cirque de Navacelles that we had cycled down into and
up out of on our trip in 2000) 
we
began the 7 km descent from the causse down the wall of
the canyon created by the Vis river, around 8 switchbacks and down a long
cool run-out into the village of Madières at river level. We had climbed those 7 km
five years previously and I will confirm that coasting down is a lot easier than
climbing up! We followed the Vis downstream for 20 km, arriving in Ganges at noon, our
first opportunity for a pause café and also our destination for the day.
There is a bike shop in Ganges but like everywhere else in France the bike shop
is closed on Monday (as are many other stores.) So I hoped to get in to see the reparateur
de vélo when he opened his shop the next day. That rear wheel was
making a lot of noise on today's ride. Our hotel didn't open until 3 pm so we
had some time to kill. Ganges didn't have much to offer except for a nice park
right beside our hotel and a very helpful tourist office. The old quarter was
not that old, it seems, and not that appealing. (We had passed
through Ganges in 2000 and thought at the time it would have been a nice place
to stay. You just never know!) ( Today's route )
Sep. 13: (58 km; sunny; 28°C/82°F) We
left our panniers in the hotel room and headed off for the bike shop hoping it
would open at 8 am. No! Nor the big InterSport store. So we went back to look at
the Tuesday morning market - all food stuff, to Carol's disappointment. We tried
the bike shop again at 8:30. Still closed. The shop still wasn't open at 9:15 but the
InterSport store was and she told us that their bike repair guy would be
there at 9:30. He addressed the problem right away and he tuned the wheel as
best he could but he indicated that the wheel might be out of round. Don't you
just love those airport baggage handlers? He also adjusted our brakes which had
become 'soft' in the rains. We were out of there, back to the hotel and ready to
go at 10:30 - just in time for our pause café. Finally on the road after
11 am, we crossed the Hérault river and followed it south, paralleling the ridge
of the Montagne de la Séranne. Brissac is a nice looking village perched high
above the highway and topped by a well restored chateau. We passed the
XII c church of St. Etienne d'Issensac just across the XII c bridge. The
bridge was more impressive than the church but both are designated 'national
historic monuments'. A 2 km climb brought us into Causse de la Selle where we
had a pause boisson. When Carol learned that the climb had not merited a
'chevron' (like this '>', indicating a hill) on Michelin's map this prim and
proper lady said "Those Michelin people should put their fat asses on a
bicycle." I was shocked!! After another 3 km climb (this one marked
on the map) we began the descent back down to the Hérault river, a fast
twisting 6.5 km ride with some curves being a little tighter than I would have
designed, but a fun ride nonetheless. We followed the river for about 4 km
before reaching 
St.
Guilhem-le-Désert ("l'un des plus beaux
villages de France"). This medieval village is
built up from the river to the XI c abbey. The abbey was mostly destroyed during
the revolution and the cloister became a source for building stones. Apparently 148 of the
sculptures in the cloister were saved by a collector at the time and have
ultimately found a home in a museum in New York, of all places. The destruction and dismantling
of the abbey was stopped in 1840 but the restoration did not begin until 1960.
Now the village is a long series of artisans' shops and cafés, etc., much in
the same way as Cordes or Mont St. Michel or Rocamadour. It is, of course,
filled with tourists. Carol disappeared with her camera. She'd already filled
one 256 Mb card and was working on the second. With six days still to go before
returning home, I wondered if she'd make it before both cards were filled. As we continued south toward
Gignac
we entered a landscape of vineyards and the vendange (the grape
harvest) had begun. We could see the big mechanical pickers at work
among the vines and we passed many tractors pulling wagons either filled with grapes or
empty and returning for more. With all this activity it was clear that the
business of Gignac was wine. But my best memory of Gignac? Dessert at the Hotel
Vieux Moulin: pyramide de chocolat sur crème anglaise. (Today's route )
Part 4: A Primer: The Vendange (the grape harvest)