No WiFi while I was away, so I’ll bore you all with my trip now I’m back home.
My Thursday morning wake up call wasn’t my mobile phone alarm or a cockerel, but several JCB’s being fired up at 7am, on the construction site, building a new arts centre next to the campsite. After a quick shower, and while my camping cooker was heating water for coffee, I got my bike gear on so that it would only be the tent to pack after a hot drink.
The Khyam tent was down and packed within 5 minutes. It’s heavier weight being traded off against its fast pitch and breakdown speed, resulting in less kneeling and bending for my well worn knees. After a brief chat to a fellow Brit on a KTM as I loaded the bike,it was out of the campsite and straight into the local commuter traffic, most going the other way fortunately. Today’s highlight would be the ride through the Gorges de l’Ardeche, that never ceases to amaze me despite many previous visits. My planned breakfast stop had changed its fare from traditional continental to pizza or pizza. I decided to give that a miss and press on and have a lunchtime stop instead.
The awaited Gorges de l’Ardeche turned out to be a morning of gravel and goats. Every now and then a bend would have a large gravel deposit running through it, maybe from an overloaded gravel truck, but it did make for wary progress. It did seem however, that the gravel free bends were plagued by nomadic goats, which seemed likely to make a mad dash in any direction. I tried to stop and take a few more pics than I usually do, the downside being having to re-overtake the camper vans and caravans that I’d already battled past, whilst being on the lookout for gravel and goats.
I made Pont St.Esprit my lunch stop venue, having a nice meal accompanied by a large panache(shandy). It seemed strange seeking out the lunchtime shade, when the previous morning I’d been riding through what seemed like waterfalls. With myself and the Fazer fuelled up I carried on southbound for a while to Avignon, crossing the mighty River Rhône, although not so mighty on this occasion due to lack of rain in those parts. Aix en Provence was the next city, although managing to skirt it arriving at Roquevaire, for a supermarket stock up to get me through the weekend at the track, bottled water being most important.
I’d often wondered why the camping area at the track was so full when arriving early on a Friday on previous Bol weekends, and although it’s not stated on the ticket, I found out earlier this year that the public are admitted as from 5pm on Thursday. Track entry was straightforward with the QR code on my ticket being scanned and a programme thrust into my hand. I knew the location of my chosen camp ground, and have always chosen the slightly more expensive one as they do a good job of keeping the toilets and showers clean. With my wristband attached and event badge safely in my tank bag,my choice of pitch was purely down to me. I opted for an area I’d never used before, but was bordered by a tall dense hedge. This proved to be an ace decision when a 12 hour Mistrale reared its ugly head on Saturday, as the hedge provided excellent shelter, whereas some tents in other areas got flattened.
My Thursday morning wake up call wasn’t my mobile phone alarm or a cockerel, but several JCB’s being fired up at 7am, on the construction site, building a new arts centre next to the campsite. After a quick shower, and while my camping cooker was heating water for coffee, I got my bike gear on so that it would only be the tent to pack after a hot drink.
The Khyam tent was down and packed within 5 minutes. It’s heavier weight being traded off against its fast pitch and breakdown speed, resulting in less kneeling and bending for my well worn knees. After a brief chat to a fellow Brit on a KTM as I loaded the bike,it was out of the campsite and straight into the local commuter traffic, most going the other way fortunately. Today’s highlight would be the ride through the Gorges de l’Ardeche, that never ceases to amaze me despite many previous visits. My planned breakfast stop had changed its fare from traditional continental to pizza or pizza. I decided to give that a miss and press on and have a lunchtime stop instead.
The awaited Gorges de l’Ardeche turned out to be a morning of gravel and goats. Every now and then a bend would have a large gravel deposit running through it, maybe from an overloaded gravel truck, but it did make for wary progress. It did seem however, that the gravel free bends were plagued by nomadic goats, which seemed likely to make a mad dash in any direction. I tried to stop and take a few more pics than I usually do, the downside being having to re-overtake the camper vans and caravans that I’d already battled past, whilst being on the lookout for gravel and goats.
I made Pont St.Esprit my lunch stop venue, having a nice meal accompanied by a large panache(shandy). It seemed strange seeking out the lunchtime shade, when the previous morning I’d been riding through what seemed like waterfalls. With myself and the Fazer fuelled up I carried on southbound for a while to Avignon, crossing the mighty River Rhône, although not so mighty on this occasion due to lack of rain in those parts. Aix en Provence was the next city, although managing to skirt it arriving at Roquevaire, for a supermarket stock up to get me through the weekend at the track, bottled water being most important.
I’d often wondered why the camping area at the track was so full when arriving early on a Friday on previous Bol weekends, and although it’s not stated on the ticket, I found out earlier this year that the public are admitted as from 5pm on Thursday. Track entry was straightforward with the QR code on my ticket being scanned and a programme thrust into my hand. I knew the location of my chosen camp ground, and have always chosen the slightly more expensive one as they do a good job of keeping the toilets and showers clean. With my wristband attached and event badge safely in my tank bag,my choice of pitch was purely down to me. I opted for an area I’d never used before, but was bordered by a tall dense hedge. This proved to be an ace decision when a 12 hour Mistrale reared its ugly head on Saturday, as the hedge provided excellent shelter, whereas some tents in other areas got flattened.
Whizz kid sitting pretty on his two wheeled stallion.