To Amiens

June 6, 2022

Our last week in France! In a week we’ll be in Calais and then ferry ourselves out of the Schengen Zone the next morning.

Once again the weather plays in our favor and it looks like it should be fine all day long, a significant change from the forecast yesterday afternoon. It’s due to be quite windy but we don’t mind that at all since it should be in our favor as we bike essentially straight north to Amiens.

We enjoy a good breakfast at the hotel, an establishment we like very much - friendly manager, a large comfortable room, great coffee, a safe and dry space for the bikes. If you come to Beauvais we recommend that you stay here; and we also do recommend that you come to Beauvais if you have the opportunity. It’s a remarkable place, as we saw last night and again this morning when I went out to see it in the morning light. And like I said yesterday, pics to come. Be patient.

Leaving the Hotel de la Cathedrale, on what looks like it could be a spectacular day to ride.

We finally make it out of our hotel about 10:30, having time boxed ourselves somewhat by announcing to tonight’s host that we’ll arrive between three and four. Should be no problem if we don’t dawdle too much all the way. We don’t get off to the best start though as Beauvais keeps throwing up attractions at us as we bike out of town.

Finally though we’re out of town on an empty road heading north. It’s a splendid day for cycling as we bike through lovely countryside, flying along effortlessly in front of a 15 mph quartering tailwind. Or we’re flying along effortlessly that is when we’re not climbing up one of the half dozen or so short 8-12% slopes we’ll encounter today. Nothing bad, but enough to get our attention.

Between the wind, the land and the sky it’s an exceptional day to ride. We have a partial cloud cover and the road and fields ahead are broken into bands of sun and shadow that scut down the road ahead of us faster than we can keep pace with them. The open rolling fields are a kaleidoscopic light show with the different colors of the pastures suddenly illuminated as a window of sun briefly passes over them and moves on.

We’re out of town within two or three miles from the hotel, climbing the first of the seven or eight rises we’ll encounter today.

We’ve done well in choosing the route for today. Long stretches are like this - quiet, empty lanes rolling through breathtakingly beautiful country.

The villages and architecture are intriguing, and different than we’ve seen anywhere else in France. Even after all these years traveling over here it still amazes that we can move fifty miles and come to a distinctively new region.

The turbines are spinning rapidly and facing straight at us. We’re going the right direction today.

The door is ajar, its hinges creaking as it repeatedly swings partly open and then back again with the wind.

After our lunch break the ride just keeps getting better and becomes extraordinary as we roll up and down over a series of steep little spikes. The lighting in the fields is Palouse-beautiful, if you’ve ever been lucky enough to be there and appreciate what that implies.

It’s tantalizing seeing windows of sunlight flying across the fields, with a bright patch of green or gold emerging from the shadows and then moving on almost before I can react with the camera. It takes all the modest amount of self-discipline I can muster to keep from stopping constantly - but we’re running late by now and I know I’ll suffer the scorn of The Whip at the end of the day if I do.

Breathtaking. It all changes so fast it would have made a good video.

South of Amiens, still about fifteen miles out. The cloud cover is starting to fill in and we wonder if we might arrive wet as well as late.

The small villages we pass through every few miles are beautiful in a whole different way. This is Rogy, I think.

So, pretty much the ideal cycling day and one of the prettiest of the tour. There is one thing though: RideWithGPS lied to us again. It promised an almost entirely paved ride today, with a mere 0.1 miles of the rough stuff. Knowing this we stay in good humor when we come to a rough gravel road, confident that we’re destined to be back on pavement again just around the bend.

Not bad, fine enough for a short distance.

A slow mile later though we’re no longer amused, finding ourselves still on this rough track. Rocky, rutted and rolling, it’s technically challenging enough that we dismount and push up or down in spots. It is gorgeous though, and as added compensation Rachael hollers back to me that she just saw a fox in the road up ahead. I believe her, because I saw one in the road myself yesterday - the first of the entire tour.

Scribe, take a memo for RideWithGPS: this is not pavement.

It finally ends after a mile though, and once again we’re flying north through a kaleidoscopic light show again - for a few miles my way, until we come to a second significant unpaved section that tries our nerves, especially since we’re running late now and in danger of being late in our arrival.

Scribe, let’s update that memo before sending it off. This is very pretty, but it also is not pavement.

Also beautiful, although we’re late now and can’t really slow down enough to appreciate it.

So there’s that to blight an otherwise perfect day just a bit. The other thing though is that for the first day in a long time I forgot my meds this morning. I’m made aware of it over lunch when I have a brief SVT episode. Typically, this one begins in circumstances that make no sense at all - I’m just sitting in the shade gnawing on some cheese and admiring the surroundings when suddenly I realize I’m feeling off.

I lie down on my back, it quickly passes, and we start biking again. A few miles later it returns though and doesn’t stop until after I arrive at the apartment ten slow miles later. I’d fallen behind by this time because Rachael is racing ahead trying to arrive by four, so I call her to let her know what’s happening and I’ll meet her at the hotel when I get there. Fortunately we’re out of the hills now and it’s a flat ride the rest of the way. I take it easy biking about 10 mph, falling about 2-1/2 miles behind Rachael by the time she arrives first at the apartment.

When I arrive, I have to find the apartment and call the owner to let me in. He buzzes me in and I have to grab the heavy door and wrestle my bike in while making sure the door doesn’t close. I then had to stash my bike in the corner and race up 3 flights of a spiral staircase with my bags to have him buzz me into the apartment. He then told me where to find the keys and gave me some instructions. Finally, I had to carry my bicycle up the spiral staircase. (Rachael)

When I finally arrive she meets me at the door (she’s been tracking my location) and totes my bags up to the apartment for me, a steep three flights up. We just leave the bike in the hall on the ground floor for now until later when I’ve recovered enough to haul it up the 66 stairs to our room. It’s enough for now to just lift myself up. When I arrive I drink a lot of water (I’ve apparently gotten dehydrated, a triggering condition), hit the couch, take a shower, and then I’m fine. Really, I should just remember to take my meds.

Some pics from our apartment, our home for the next three nights. It’s huge, interesting, attractive. It’s also split level, with the bedroom up in a loft. And there’s a clothes washer. And there’s a foldout couch on the ground floor in case anyone is in the neighborhood and cares to stop in. It might not be the best for biking at the moment with rain expected for the next few days but I understand the town has other attractions.

Our password in Amiens, a new record-setter.

The place is huge. Modern and attractive, well lit from a ring of skylights.

One drawback to our place: it’s on the 3rd floor, 66 steps up from the entrance level, and there’s no lift. My Bike Friday is down there at the bottom, waiting for me to recover enough so that I can lug it up.

Our bedroom is attractive and cozy, upstairs in the loft. With an open skylight above, it almost feels like a camp-out.

Unfortunately, it’s also a death trap. Either one of us could tumble down the steep stairs head first and end it all right here, especially in the middle of the night on the way to the bathroom downstairs. The challenge: stay alert and alive for the next three days.

On the plus side, we do have a very nice view of the nearby Amiens Cathedral from our upstairs skylight.

Cursed inanimate object! The clothes are washed and spun-dry but need further drying. Fortunately there’s a fold-up drying rack, but unfortunately neither of us can figure out how to assemble it.

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Ride stats today: 42 miles, 2,100’; for the tour: 2,455 miles, 116,900’

Today's ride: 42 miles (68 km)
Total: 2,483 miles (3,996 km)

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Bruce LellmanI'm assuming you take electrolyte/rehydration tablets on long hot days, Scott. It's not simply water a person needs while riding. I finally learned that a person can drink gallons of water and still get heat stroke. It's the other stuff you need with the water. But you already know this.
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1 year ago

Scott AndersonTo Bruce LellmanThanks for the reminder, but I’m pretty careful about that now and have started carrying electrolyte tablets. I don’t think that was much of an issue today though because it wasn’t long, hot or even particularly hard. I just forgot my meds, which pretty much is guaranteed to get a reaction.
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1 year ago

Bruce LellmanTo Scott AndersonOh yes, sorry. I forgot that you did say you forgot to take your meds. I freak out easily when it comes to heat stroke since I've had it four times!
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1 year ago