Page 36
France
DAY 114
Carcassonne
to Ax les Thermes
This
was Easter Sunday and a day we won’t soon forget. Some are saying it was our
most miserable day yet, I think it was my second most miserable, after the Hill
of Death. We got up in the rain and rode all day in the rain. Everything was
drenched including our tents and us. The weather was changing by the minute as
the day wore on so it wasn’t equally wet and windy for everyone, depending on
where they were in the ride, which may help explain why some people suffered
more than others. It should have been a spectacular day, the most beautiful
scenery we’ve seen, maybe this area is as beautiful as it gets! I just wish we
could have seen it more clearly. It was pouring rain, making it hard to see
anything, the scenery or the DRG. I am over my cold and feeling good again but
on this rainy day my nose was running a stream too. That becomes an issue on a
bike in the rain, for paper tissues are useless and cloth is no good either as
it soon becomes soaked in the rain, ever try to do your nose with a dripping wet
handkerchief?
We
were climbing the Pyrenees, first the foothills, then the mountains themselves.
It was spectacular! Have I said that already? I can’t say it enough! I am
going to do this day’s route again someday, on a sunny day. Maybe not on a
bicycle though. We rode on Highway D 104 to Limoux, then on D 118 to Esperaza
and Quillen. The DRG informed us that the Tour de France used this road in July
1998 but I was too soggy to be dazzled. Then we switched from one little road to
another as we rode through Coudons, Espezel and Camurac, climbing all the while.
An 11 km. climb began at 50 km. out, by the time we reached Coudon we were at
3000 feet. At 78 km. out we climbed for 4 km., leveling off at 4000 feet just
before Camurac. (These are the climbs noted on the DRG; actually it was uphill
most if the day.) Thank goodness for the climbing though because the hard work
generated enough heat to keep me warm, maybe not my fingers and toes, but most
of me.
At
the beginning in the foothills part of the day, there were many cone shaped
hills like miniature volcanic mountains. They were covered with green trees to
the top, and there were beautiful green rounded hills and flatter areas
in-between. I have never seen cone shaped hills anywhere else. I wonder how they
could have formed in that shape? As we pedaled, passing one scenic vista after
another I grew more and more frustrated by the rain because I couldn’t take
photos. Finally there was a break in the downpour and I did take a picture. It
is not clear and doesn’t look like much, but that was the kind of day it was.
We
continued to climb, finally reaching the summit at 4579 ft. and we were elated
to be there. The rain and wind had made it hard to stay the course, but we felt
rewarded by the magnificent view. It had stopped raining for a while at the end
of the climb, luckily for me, allowing my raincoat and windstopper gloves to
nearly dry by the time I reached the top. (My windstopper gloves get soaked in
rain and then are not as effective at keeping my hands warm. One rider, Ken of
Vail, was wearing his SCUBA gloves, which were just the thing for such a wet
day. He was most likely the only rider with warm hands.) Another rider, Dan of
Dalia and Dan, was wearing sandals without socks. How he could tolerate the
cold baffles me. Every once in awhile during the day we’d get a tantalizing
glimpse of the snow covered mountains in front of us, and finally we were there,
at Col du Chiouia, 4579 ft. It was gorgeous! The sun came out, the clouds lifted
almost off the mountaintops, and we took turns posing with our bikes for photos
in the snow with the Great Pyrenees Mountains behind us. It was impossible
though to catch the magnificence of those huge snow covered mountains in a
photograph.
After
enjoying the summit for a few minutes it was time to get ready to go down the
other side of the mountain. I put on all the clothes I had and put a plastic bag
inside my jacket. The DRG said: CAUTION Steep, curvy, wonderful 10.4 km.
descent. It was all of that and more. It had started to snow, then hailed which
hurts when it hits your face at speed, and finally was raining when I reached
the bottom. About halfway down I stopped to warm up a bit before finishing the
descent. It had been a long hard ride for me and it was late, maybe 6:00, by the
time I finally reached our destination, Ax les Thermes. We were camping outside
of town near a stream in what would have been a pretty place but for the rain.
Some riders who had come in earlier in the day had pitched their tents and the
tents had more or less dried between the intermittent showers. (It is the inside
that needs to be dry.) I was in no mood to pitch my tent, which was dripping wet
from the previous night’s rain because it wouldn’t dry this late in the day,
because I was very tired, and because it was already dinnertime.
I
made up mind to find a hotel room but first I had to find my luggage. Oh wow!
What a mess! What had happened was this. We had been using moving van type
trucks for our baggage because we had lost the use of the gear locker trucks
because they couldn’t be insured. Then suddenly one insurer in the U.S.
decided he could do it after all. We would get the locker trucks back. The
moving van trucks were returned while we were in Carcassonne on a layover day,
but then we found that the locker trucks would be later arriving than expected
so more rental trucks had to be found, not an easy task. (It was Easter Sunday
weekend and everything was shut down. The French take Easter very seriously.)
The trucks that were found were too small and would have to make two trips to
move everything. Those who were among the first to the trucks in the morning
loaded their bags. When the trucks were full the latecomers stacked their bags
under the eaves of a building in a largely vain attempt to keep them dry. I
loaded my wheeled bag onto the first truck and leaving my tent up for the time
being, ran to get on the bus to breakfast because it was due to leave. I would
take my tent down after returning from breakfast. But the bus wasn’t full and
would be waiting awhile, so I thought I had enough time to take my tent down. I
ran back to do it and by the time I was done the first truck was full, so I had
to load my tent bag onto the second truck. Now my two bags were on two different
trucks. The bus was pulling out so I ran to get on it, otherwise no breakfast
for me. Whew! What a way to start a day!
When
the gear trucks had reached the campsite in Ax les Thermes that morning it was
raining, of course. The camp- ground’s director allowed them to unload the
trucks into a shed comprised of several rooms, all of which were filthy and
piled with useless looking old junk but at least it was dry. They threw the bags
everywhere and of course went back for another load. By the time all the luggage
was unloaded the bags were stacked several deep in several rooms with no place
left to walk. To locate my bags I had to crawl over the bags of others and try
to lift the heavy dirty things to see if mine could be underneath. Since my bags
had been loaded onto two different trucks I couldn’t even hope to find them
together. They weren’t together but I did find them eventually, and moved them
to a spot near the doorway. Then I got on my bike, pedaled back to town, and
went door-to-door trying to find a hotel room. Eventually I succeeded and just
in time too to make it to dinner before they stopped serving. I paid for my
room, carried my bike and bike bags up four flights of stairs to my room and
hurried to dinner. After dinner it was dark and cold and there was no taxi to be
found.
My
plan had been to take a taxi to the campsite, have it wait while I recovered and
loaded my bags, and then have it take me to my hotel. Now what was I to do? It
was a long, wet, dark walk back to the campsite and to return carrying my bags
would be impossible. I didn’t really need to have everything I owned with me
to survive the night, but I wanted to take advantage of the hotel room to dry my
tent because I would need to use it the next night and it might still be
raining. I also wanted to reorganize my stuff so that it would fit into my
locker the next morning when the gear trucks were promised to arrive. All of my
stuff fits into my 2 bags but when all my stuff is in the bags the bags won’t
fit into the locker. Since the locker is longer than the bags are, I solve the
problem by removing the things I don’t use every day and then stack them at
the very back of the locker. Each morning I slide my bags into my locker and the
door will just close. Barely. Some people have popped the hinges off their doors
trying to shut them on an over stuffed locker. And to say that I slide my bags
in is not correct. I push, shove, squeeze, knee, grunt and groan the bags in. I
am usually in a sweat and exhausted by the time I succeed.
Bob
and Suzi were also looking for a taxi without success so they asked the dinner
vendor for help and he offered to drive them in his personal car. When I heard
that I invited myself to join them, what a stroke of good luck! Photographer Al
also wanted a ride so he invited himself too. We all fit and soon were at the
campsite. This kind man waited while I found my bags which had been moved and
trampled on, helped me get them into his car, and took me to my hotel.
Soon I had wet tent draped everywhere! Luckily this old hotel was heated and the
radiators were on. Everything dried overnight. Fuel oil is still used to heat
the hotels and is the dominant odor inside these old buildings. But a warm bath
in a high square tub was a relaxing end to a difficult day, and with everything
drying and sorted I slept soundly in the big saggy bed.
Au Revoir! Alice
France
Carcassonne - City gates and Castle
“No one mentioned the famous legend of how a long siege of Carcassonne was lifted when a fatted pig was catapulted out of the fortified town, convincing the besieging commander that it was not (as it really was) starving and close to capitulation”.
Italy 
Superfast Ferry, Greece to Italy Old Italian Housing - Known as Trulley's (? Spelling)
Odyssey Riders
