May 28 – June 3, 2023

Sunday, May 28 (Day 68).  The poem “The Road Not Taken” has always resonated with me. Like many others, I thought it celebrated those who took the “road less traveled” and forged their own path through life. Nope! Turned out Frost was poking fun at a friend who could never decide which path to take on their hikes, then second-guessed his choice. I confess I felt a little crushed when I found out.

However, reading it as the author intended, I did find a little nugget. Having made the choice to follow one path, the narrator said, “Oh, I kept the first for another day! Yet knowing how way leads on to way, I doubted if I should ever come back.” That phrase has always struck me. Every day, we make choices between roads that “equally lay.”  Choosing to travel one road means choosing not to travel another equally interesting road. And “Knowing how way leads on to way, I doubt that I shall ever come back.”  It is highly unlikely we will ever pass this way again. So maybe, Frost’s message to his friend, and to us, was this…don’t regret roads you can not or have not taken. Celebrate the road road you’re on.  

With that thought in mind, we celebrated the remainder of our rest day in La Rochelle. Like so much of Europe, a mix of  ancient and modern exists side by side.

We did not regret the roads our train bypassed on the way to Tours. Within minutes of our 9:30pm arrival, we already felt a fondness for this new place. After a short ride, our bikes and bags were safely stowed. From our third floor perch, we watched night settle over the city.

Monday, May 29 (Day 69). Tours was meant to be just a jumping off point for a trip up the Loire River valley. The city wouldn’t let us leave. First, it was “to die for” items from a boulangerie / patisserie to supplement our usual breakfast of yogurt. Then, it was a hidden gem of a botanical garden, followed by cool neighborhoods and yet another stunning church. Lacking the tourist masses, Tours offered a comfortable, welcoming vibe that made us reluctant to move on.

But move on we did. The broad Loire River valley is famous for its magnificent chateaux. The wealth required to build and maintain these mansions is beyond comprehension. I think these folks were not just among the “1%” of their day. They may have been the original 1/10 of 1% -ers. We followed the river and rode the countryside to Chaumont-sur-Loire with plans to visit the Chateau Chaumont on Tuesday.

Passing through Amboise, we met a cycling family from Canada with two young children. We were fortunate to meet this impressive family again in the campground. Since I’m on a poetry kick this week, I’ll share some Robert Service.

There’s a race of men that don’t fit in, A race that can’t stay still; So they break the hearts of kith and kin and they roam the world at will. They range the field and they rove the flood, and they climb the mountain’s crest; Theirs is the curse of the gypsy blood, And they don’t know how to rest.

Robert Service

I thought of this poem after talking to Andres (Italian and Costa Rican) and Eve Marie (French Canadian). They have seriously roamed the world at will, and definitely have “the curse of the gypsy blood.” They have been everywhere! Recently their travels have included Dahlia (8) and Diego (2). Impressively, Dahlia already knows four languages and is more than holding her own bicycling on this family outing. We never cease being amazed at the lifestyle some people choose. Impressive!

Tuesday, May 30 (Day 70). Perhaps the most famous owner of the Chateau Chaumont was Catherine de Medici – Queen of France from 1547 to 1559. Nostradamus was one of her guests at this lavish estate. In an interesting twist, after the death of her husband, the King, Catherine forced his mistress to give her the Chateau de Chenonceau. The mistress had received that chateau as gift from Catherine’s husband. In exchange, the mistress received the Chateau Chaumont. You can’t make this stuff up. Some version of this Chateau has perched on this hilltop for 1,000 years.

As impressive as it was, we both were a bit put off. It is hard to appreciate the opulence and lavish lifestyle, given the abject poverty experienced by so many who lived in the Chateau’s shadow. It didn’t help that at one point, one of the owners moved 155 people from their homes near the chateau. He wanted to indulge his fantasy of having a sprawling English style garden. Those “nobodies” were simply in the way. So, all very interesting, but we decided one chateau was enough. 

Wednesday, May 31 (Day 71).

In the last two and a half months, The thesaurus has been given a workout. I continue to run out of adjectives to describe our experience. You might not know it from many of our pictures, but not every day is filled with “stunning” or “magnificent!” Some days are just “nice” or “pleasant.” Today was such a day. We left the Loire River and made our way generally north. We enjoyed the scenery. We enjoyed people watching in the small towns and villages along the way. We enjoyed cycling over hills, through valleys, and along broad river bottoms.  It was all very “nice.” We’re OK with that.

When we rolled into our home for the evening, Robert and Christina from Belgium were among the handful of people in the campground. We chatted long enough to feel comfortable asking to cool our beer in their freezer while we prepped dinner. To our surprise and delight, Robert came over to share some of their dinner with us. We feasted on delicious chicken, potatoes, and mushrooms. What a treat! And what a treat to wash it all down with icy cold Belgian beer. How appropriate.   

Thursday, June 1 (Day 72). Today was a repeat of yesterday. Rolling hills, forests, and open countryside. We started a bit earlier than has been our habit, and covered twenty miles by 10:30am. Other than a mid-morning food stop, we kept pushing all day with our eyes on the clock. We were on a mission…to find reliable wifi.

For Flagstaff residents, 6:00am, June 1st has almost mythic status. All across town, people will rise early and sit with fingers hovering over keyboards, waiting for the clock to tick over to exactly 6:00am. At that precise moment, registration opens for the Imogene Pass Run. After a few years absence, we are resuming our annual pilgrimage to the land of majestic vistas and soul-crushing uphills. We checked and double-checked the time difference. At precisely 2:00pm, we were perched in a Super U grocery store poaching their wifi. By 6:13am, every one of the 1,500 spots had been taken. Happily, two of those spots belonged to us.

Snagging a coveted Imogene entry is excitement enough for one day. And, given that we’d already pushed hard for fifty miles, there was nothing left to do but secure a place in the local municipal campground. La Vie est Belle!

Friday, June 2 (Day 73). Definition: Hard Date. A fixed point in space and time that demands our presence at said point. We don’t like hard dates. Exhibit A. Several  days ago we contacted a Warmshower host in Caen. Can he host us? Yes, but only Saturday and Sunday nights. A few days ago, that sounded fine. Suddenly, we had a hard date. We woke with the daunting prospect of two more fifty mile days against strong headwinds. This after already riding two long days against persistent headwinds. Making the decision to pass on the Warmshower opportunity was like flipping a switch. Suddenly a great weight had been lifted. We relaxed and began truly enjoying the day.

Based on the suggestion of a local cyclist, we took a longer, more picturesque route. We explored small villages. And even though we had set our sights on a town down the road, St Leonard du Bois seduced us with one of the more lovely settings for a campground.  Be gone Evil Hard Dates!

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Saturday, June 3 (Day 74). During our (OK, mostly Sharon’s) evening ritual of plotting a route, we hit a snag. Routes from here to Caen seem to be either direct and busy, or scenic and much farther. Remember the ticking clock? New plan. We spent the morning up the road in the lovely village of Saint-Ceneri-le-Gerei.

Next stop Alencon, and a train to Caen. I want to indulge my history passion, and what better place than the Normandy coast around the anniversary of D-Day. We want time to do justice in recalling the significant events that took place in this region. That was brought painfully home when we stopped by the Chateau Alencon. During WWII, the Chateau was used by the Gestapo as a place to store and torture members of the French resistance. These, and similar events ought not be forgotten.

These ancient buildings are just the visible reminders of times past. Real history is the stories of real people. People who lived, dreamed, strove, suffered, succeeded, and eventually passed into history. We are very much looking forward to learning more about the people and events in Normandy. Until next week…STC!