Bored
Yesterday I’d left the sea and started climbing up the “Villaine”. Today, I would be leaving it, and following the “Oust” instead. The river has been converted into a canal connecting Nantes (where I was on the evening of my first day) and Brest.
Canals can be nice because they are usually easy riding, but spending a full day along one is enough to drive anybody mad. After an hour, I was bored. I passed time listening podcasts. Did you know that the in the first verse of their national anthem the Dutch pledge allegiance to the king of spain? [1] Or why we talk of a national anthem (i.e. a religious song) and not just a national song? [2]
It's a race!
The only distractions along the road were other riders. I had joined the Eurovelo 1 so there were plenty. Every now and then I would stop for a quick chat. Where did you come from today? How far are you going? What’s the road ahead like?
An older gentleman, hearing me arrive moved to the side of the path, yet I couldn’t catch up. The bugger was accelerating. I pushed a bit harder and complimented him on his athleticism. He laughed, put is head down and pushed harder. I bent my elbows and crouched into a more aerodynamic position yet still struggled to gain ground. I dropped into a more aggressive gear and finally started increasing the gap between us. With a laugh, our impromptu race was over. I thanked him with a wave, and we parted ways, our days made merrier by the encounter.
A wooden bicycle on side of the path provided an excuse for a short break.
A more epic journey?
The castle at Josselin provided another opportunity for a short excursion. The road climbining into the village, hidden behind the castle, was a welcome moment of exertion, and as I explored the medieval streets, I came across an exhibition of photographs narrating the lives of the town elders.
Sabine impressed me. During the war, with her brother, they cycled 560 km over the course of 4 days to fetch their sister. That’s a 140 km a day, on a 1940’s-vintage bicycle. To bring her back, they brought another bicyle along, strapped to their racks.
I’m doing 100-ish kilometres a day, on a modern, lightweight, aluminium bicycle with drop bars, and a relatively aerodynamic setup. Doing 140 km on a old bicycle, a few gears and a heavy dynamo to see ahead in the evening is an entirely different challenge!
When does it end?
The road was still long and it seemed to draw out infinitely. The locks on the river grew more frequent. Each a carbon copy of it’s predecessor. The number alongside each lock metered the boredom, 80 locks down, 120 more to go, …
In a moment of elation I noticed a change. The canal was sloping downwards and I was accelerating.
With this welcome boost from nature, the final kilometres went by faster, but not more interesting.
Tomorrow, I would leave the canal and head inland. I could already see long climbs on the GPS …
By the numbers
- Ride Started
- 09:06
- Ride Ended
- 18:20
- Distance
- 126 km
- Time Moving
- 6h 23m
- Time Elapsed
- 9h 14m
- Elevation Gained
- 921 m
- Distance so far
- 590 km
- Riding so far
- 30h 46m
- Elevation so far
- 3275 m
Post-Scriptum
Do you know what I miss most about civilisation after a few days on the road?
Warm food? No, I have a stove!
A comfortable mattress? No I have a pretty decent inflatable mattress!
What I miss most is chairs. The simple relaxing feeling of laying back and letting my core muscles go, confident that the backrest will support my weight.
On the road, chairs are fleeting; a bench here and there for a cheeky break, a restaurant chair for a quick meal. I was longing for the steady support of a backrest. That was it, I would sleep in a hotel tonight. Luckily, the town of Pontivy is not exactly a tourist hotspot in early september, so I was able to find a democratically-priced hotel room.
After a long shower, I headed into town to look for a Creperie. Whilst I found a few, the meal was disappointing. Pontivy, it seems, is not a culinary hotspot either.