velotel
07-02-2012, 04:30 PM
The mother-in-law is over 80, crazy gardener with tons of flowers and veges. This is a woman who can stroll into a field and twenty minutes later come back with the makings for an extravagant salad, all wild. Years ago we started taking her south to the lavender fields on the Valensole plateau where the TdF passes from time to time. The pro photogs salivate over the idea of shooting the peloton riding through those fields. Understandably. A true spectacle. We didn’t go last year. No particular reason. Didn’t require a mind probe to see she was ready for a return. In her mind maybe one last trip. She’s been thinking things like that for awhile now.
Okay with me, another ride through the lavender fields, I like that. Filling my nose with lavender perfume. Question was how to satisfy the flower visiting needs and my riding needs. Not necessarily compatible objectives.
Fortunately I was born with a talent for finding places, and re-finding places years and years later after but one visit. I take no credit for that. Taking credit for something one is born with is like people assuming they’re smart because they inherited a fortune. On the other hand I must admit I’ve never missed an opportunity to polish up the old talent.
Like this small road in south France over some hills non-descript enough that at least as far as maps are concerned seem to have no particular name. Found it years and years ago whilst searching for lavender. Only there aren’t any fields of lavender along this road, just patches of lavender. Big patches but compared to the lavender on the Valensole plateau, just stains of blue on ragged hills. Not the same lavender either. The Valensole plateau is industrial grade lavender, waves of color that captivate the eyes of any driving through. The lavender along the little road in the round, worn hills is mountain lavender, more rugged, slower growing, happy in lean soils. Kind of like the difference between single malt scotch from some tiny, unknown family taking the days as they come and the industrial grade scotch from producers with one eye on the calendar, one on the revenue sheets, and both feet on the production throttle.
That road instantly leapt to mind. Stop down in the valley along the river, get the bike out, change clothes, ride off while my wife drives on looking for a picnic site. Just had to find it first. No problem, there it was, hadn’t moved. With a major surprise, asphalt laid down only days or maybe a week earlier. The road was buffed! We’re talking a road that’s maybe a lane and a half wide, max, a back road, a road of no account, a road only the locals know exists, and there it was buffed to perfection! Too sweet.
That was the first surprise. The second popped up after I turned onto the even narrower road that crosses the hills. Arrived at a kilometer marker, a new one, all shiny plastic with the name of the col, how many K away it was, and the average percent grade for the following K! Plus the pavement was all but perfect. Maybe only a year since it was laid down. Beautiful climb. I doubt if you’ll ever read about it again but if you’re ever in the region with a bike, especially in early July, keep the name in mind, Col de l’Espinouse.
I’m heading up, somewhere in the K that averages 8,5%, only this is one roller coaster K so the average might only be 8,5% but the ramps along the way are way past 8,5%. I’m in my climbing gear, out of the saddle, riding well, all of a sudden I’m in a cloud of perfume. Look left into a deep purplish blue erupting out of green shoots. Stop, shoot, back on, roll off. Then another patch of lavender. Nothing extravagant, just rich. Gorgeous riding too.
Got to the last K post and had to stop for a picture. I mean I’ve seen a lot of posts with percentages but never one with 1%. Even better, I’m in my 34/23 and have no inclination at all to move to a smaller cog. Only one way they arrive at 1%, the road goes limp, and I mean totally limp. Actually it’s even better than that, a downhill to the col! My wife meets me there in the car. She left her mother up on top of the hill to the right. A track of shattered asphalt, gravel, and dirt the only way up. Mountain biking on skinny tires. Perfect. Good climb, great place, picnic laid out.
Then down, back to the col, less dicey than I feared, then down the back side, pavement a bit worn but still good and no pot holes and lots of bobbing and weaving and hard braking for tight turns followed by nice gravity accelerations. The best were the dips for dry washes, nothing abrupt, just a nice smooth wave. No traffic, just as well, the road barely more than one lane. Down to the village of Bras-d’Asse, across the valley to la Bégude Blanche and the climb up to the Valensole plateau.
A good climb, nothing special, bit of traffic, everyone heading to the lavender. Hit the top and there it is, a sea of lavender stretching into the distance. If you ever can, you really need to ride through here when the lavender’s in full bloom. Not for the riding, for the sensation. Nothing like it. If you don’t have a camera with you, you’ll be bummed.
All in all, a fine ride, nothing of great significance, just a very good outing. One I could do again tomorrow.
A few shots to spice up your dreams.
Okay with me, another ride through the lavender fields, I like that. Filling my nose with lavender perfume. Question was how to satisfy the flower visiting needs and my riding needs. Not necessarily compatible objectives.
Fortunately I was born with a talent for finding places, and re-finding places years and years later after but one visit. I take no credit for that. Taking credit for something one is born with is like people assuming they’re smart because they inherited a fortune. On the other hand I must admit I’ve never missed an opportunity to polish up the old talent.
Like this small road in south France over some hills non-descript enough that at least as far as maps are concerned seem to have no particular name. Found it years and years ago whilst searching for lavender. Only there aren’t any fields of lavender along this road, just patches of lavender. Big patches but compared to the lavender on the Valensole plateau, just stains of blue on ragged hills. Not the same lavender either. The Valensole plateau is industrial grade lavender, waves of color that captivate the eyes of any driving through. The lavender along the little road in the round, worn hills is mountain lavender, more rugged, slower growing, happy in lean soils. Kind of like the difference between single malt scotch from some tiny, unknown family taking the days as they come and the industrial grade scotch from producers with one eye on the calendar, one on the revenue sheets, and both feet on the production throttle.
That road instantly leapt to mind. Stop down in the valley along the river, get the bike out, change clothes, ride off while my wife drives on looking for a picnic site. Just had to find it first. No problem, there it was, hadn’t moved. With a major surprise, asphalt laid down only days or maybe a week earlier. The road was buffed! We’re talking a road that’s maybe a lane and a half wide, max, a back road, a road of no account, a road only the locals know exists, and there it was buffed to perfection! Too sweet.
That was the first surprise. The second popped up after I turned onto the even narrower road that crosses the hills. Arrived at a kilometer marker, a new one, all shiny plastic with the name of the col, how many K away it was, and the average percent grade for the following K! Plus the pavement was all but perfect. Maybe only a year since it was laid down. Beautiful climb. I doubt if you’ll ever read about it again but if you’re ever in the region with a bike, especially in early July, keep the name in mind, Col de l’Espinouse.
I’m heading up, somewhere in the K that averages 8,5%, only this is one roller coaster K so the average might only be 8,5% but the ramps along the way are way past 8,5%. I’m in my climbing gear, out of the saddle, riding well, all of a sudden I’m in a cloud of perfume. Look left into a deep purplish blue erupting out of green shoots. Stop, shoot, back on, roll off. Then another patch of lavender. Nothing extravagant, just rich. Gorgeous riding too.
Got to the last K post and had to stop for a picture. I mean I’ve seen a lot of posts with percentages but never one with 1%. Even better, I’m in my 34/23 and have no inclination at all to move to a smaller cog. Only one way they arrive at 1%, the road goes limp, and I mean totally limp. Actually it’s even better than that, a downhill to the col! My wife meets me there in the car. She left her mother up on top of the hill to the right. A track of shattered asphalt, gravel, and dirt the only way up. Mountain biking on skinny tires. Perfect. Good climb, great place, picnic laid out.
Then down, back to the col, less dicey than I feared, then down the back side, pavement a bit worn but still good and no pot holes and lots of bobbing and weaving and hard braking for tight turns followed by nice gravity accelerations. The best were the dips for dry washes, nothing abrupt, just a nice smooth wave. No traffic, just as well, the road barely more than one lane. Down to the village of Bras-d’Asse, across the valley to la Bégude Blanche and the climb up to the Valensole plateau.
A good climb, nothing special, bit of traffic, everyone heading to the lavender. Hit the top and there it is, a sea of lavender stretching into the distance. If you ever can, you really need to ride through here when the lavender’s in full bloom. Not for the riding, for the sensation. Nothing like it. If you don’t have a camera with you, you’ll be bummed.
All in all, a fine ride, nothing of great significance, just a very good outing. One I could do again tomorrow.
A few shots to spice up your dreams.