Cycling through Provence, France; Sept. 2008

It's been just over twenty years since I bought my first (serious) bicycle.  I was living at Mom and Dad's and helping Dad get his new company, HR Parts, off the ground.  I needed exercise (and therapy ;-}) and cycling the 10 miles to the office was one way to get it.  

My obsession with bicycle touring was born during those years, first with a week-long ride across Minnesota in 1987, and then with an attempt at a self-contained tour across the US in 1988.  I didn't make it all the way to the east coast that summer, so tried it again over the summer of 1990, starting in Anacortes, Washington and ending in Bath, Maine.  5200 miles.  It was an amazing journey.

Deb, Brian Hamilton, Diane and Peter Furcht, 1988

Since then, my love for cycling has only grown deeper and taken me farther afield.  The journey I am probably most proud of was the 2005 trip around the southwest of England.  I packed up the bike and panniers in May, flew to Gatwick, unpacked and spent a month on my own cycling to Devon and Cornwall, returning over the moors to the Cotswolds and Wiltshire.  It was a grand  journey of self-discovery...

Departing Havant (Portsmouth), UK, on a wet May morning, 2005

This past September, I was fortunate enough to be able to join the Davis Bike Club on a 3-week tour through Provence in south-eastern France.  It started and ended with a couple of non-cycling days in Paris.  Then we transported all the bikes down to Avignon, where we unpacked them and began the tour.  I mapped the route, which you can see here.  (Close the elevation chart and zoom out a couple of notches to see the whole route; sorry about the red flags--I don't know how to get rid of them...)

Just a couple of observations, before I send you over to the slideshow.  At age 50, I was the youngest cyclist in the group.  (I find this completely reassuring, as I want to be cycling well into my 80's!!)  We had two episodes of rain, but both happened overnight, so we had completely dry cycling.  (That never happens...)

Provence was so beautiful.  I had imagined the olive trees and hills and lavender fields, but the gorges and national parks were a complete surprise.  Because Mt. Ventoux is close by, the region is a mecca for cyclists.  So car drivers are respectful, and villagers don't snigger too loudly when a gaggle of lycra-clad cyclists ride by.  Wine was cheap; beer and everything else was expensive.  Most people were patient with our lame attempts at speaking French.

If you have about 10 minutes to spare, you'll find my attempt at creating a succinct slideshow here.  I hope it tells the story of a magical bike tour through a very special region of France.

With lots of love from Deb