Good start. Discovered this new playground:
Most of the early trails near Adriers and Lathus St Remy look like this (note my Tour-a-Bra front pannier still supporting nicely):
After an hour and a half of trails arrived at Roc D'Enfer, which is a french national canoeing championship venue:
Spring has well and truly sprung now and the woods are full of bluebells:
So I took out my watercolours and easel, pressed some of the nicest flowers for my album and composed some poetry.
Had to get moving again eventually, so I carried on using my rolling dakar geopositioning navigation system complete with basecamp topo-cache locating software. If this system is too complicated for you to understand I can explain in more detail - just send a PM:
Got to this old mill on the Gartempe river, south of Montmorillon. There are water-powered 19th century factories like this all along the river at roughly 2km intervals:
Big old sluice gates:
The trails just go on and on. This one is actually an abandoned rural tram route and occasionally you find bits of the old rails embedded in the ground:
Eventually re-found this MX track that I remembered going to years ago. Did a couple of slow laps and reminded myself why I never took up crossing:
Then I made a big mistake. On the way home I thought I would try to find a way down to the Gartempe river where it meets the river Brame. This is s real beauty spot with kms of walking tracks, but not really a place for enduro bikes. However, being a fool, I went down into the ravine:
I kind of got sucked into following the river further and further along a track that deteriorated into just roots and boulders. Dougie Lampkin territory. My talent ran out and I was stuck:
After a brain-free hour of struggling over mossy rocks I thought to myself: 'How about leaving the bike here and walking ahead to see if it gets any better'? Well it didn't. Eventually I was faced with a wall of granite and the game was up. Totally knackered, it took 10 minutes just to get the bike turned around, pulling and hauling it like a freshly murdered cadaver. I had to retrace the 'path' and crashed to the rocky deck several times. Of course I fell on my side precisely where there is a gap in my body armour. I lay down heaving for breath and sweating like Gary Glitter's travel agent. A shining light appeared in the distance and I followed the angelic voices towards the void. I was down in the bottom of a pit in the blazing sun. And the last thing I saw was my heart, still beating, breaking out of my body and flying away...
Anyway, it wasn't a good situation. It took another hour to get out.
I have learned a valuable lesson. If you are riding on your own, with no one else for miles, keep it simple and don't be a dick, Another hour later and I was home, immersed in Mr Radox and waiting for the pain-killers to kick in. Bruised to f*ck today, but the whole episode taught me a few things. From now on I shall live by the old saying: "A rolling chef gathers no broth".
especially there (he thinks jealously).
