France On a Bike

People often ask me about some of my adventures on foot and on a bicycle. One of my most memorable trips was to Provence, France, on a bicycle. Big Guy and I have long hung up our wheels but remember well the challenges of our first bicycle trip abroad.

Long-time dedicated long-distance bicycle riders, we decided to venture out from our cross-country rides through the Midwest countryside. We found a bicycle touring company, VBT, that offered a ride in southern France. We were all in.

One aspect of our planned trip to France that attracted the most curiosity is that we chose to do it on bikes. We loved the idea of daily exercise, seeing the countryside up close and personal, and experiencing Provence's small towns and people. We still get looks that indicate concern regarding our sanity and apparent amazement that we survived.

How far did we ride in one day? Well, the days ranged from 20 to 40 miles, and the routes would be moderately rolling, according to the materials we received before the trip. Now, rolling to an experienced rider may indicate a gentle hill. Our training rides on the flat roads of Florida did not prepare us for the Alp-like "hills" we faced each day. When necessary, we swallowed our pride and walked the more challenging hills, rationalizing that walking was also good exercise.

Our two delightful tour leaders, Pasquale and Sophie, made the trip enjoyable and safe. Our group of 18 met the first evening to share wine and sample local delicacies. Pasquale, elfin and with a twinkle in his eye, and Sophie, a Peter Pan look-alike, reviewed the next week and a half we would share.

We were given essential tips about the drivers and roads in France. Pasquale winked as he said, "Ah, yes, it is true the French drivers, they drive very, very fast, but they drive very good."

Unlike the great behemoths that crowd the roads in the United States, the cars in France are small and not much bigger than the bumper cars in carnivals and country fairs. But don't let their size fool you. They can move very fast.

We also get questions about the bicycles we rode. Experienced bicycle riders know that the quality and fit of the bike make a difference. We rode "hybrids" supplied by our tour company. Hybrids are a combination of road touring bikes and mountain bikes. Each of us was supplied a bicycle suited to our height and weight.

The tour company supplied us with a helmet, tire repair kit, and square black boxes attached to our handlebars that held our daily essentials. For me, that included snacks, water, bandanas, and my digital camera. We were cautioned to take the bags with us when we stopped to eat, sightsee, or shop. We carried the bags like large, awkward purses. We also were cautioned to secure the bikes with locks, and we often would lock several bikes together, creating a cluster that was impossible to steal — and sometimes to separate.

We had carefully planned our travel and biking gear. The bright neon colors the bicycle riders sport have a purpose. Visibility is key in assuring the drivers of the tiny French cars see you. We were hard to miss — neon greens, pinks, and blues all in quick-drying "wicking" wonder fabrics.

Our luggage would go ahead of us each day. Our support van circled the route. Either Pasquale or Sophie would be in the van, and the other would ride with the group, so we knew help was never long in coming.

When you set 18 Americans off on bicycles in the wilds of southern France, there are bound to be adventures. There was — a flat tire by me, battling the fabled mistral winds, and more than a few unexpected and delightful detours.

Each morning would start with a traditional French breakfast of large fluffy croissants, fresh fruit, sausages, and dark, rich coffee. As we finished eating, Pasquale and Sophie would review the day ahead. It took on the character of a military campaign: detailed maps, warnings regarding bad roads, tricky turns to find, and perhaps a hill or two.

We then quickly went to our rooms, climbed into our spandex, and were on the road by 9 a.m. We did not ride together in a line with a leader at the front and back. We fell into smaller groups, and we set our own pace.

As the lunch hour neared, we would find yet another impossibly picturesque town and ride slowly through the cobblestone streets until our cafe radar would lead us to a cluster of brightly colored umbrellas and yet another delightful spot to have lunch.

To see a country with your wheels turning beneath you and, hopefully, the wind at your back, is to experience its very essence. As we passed vineyard after vineyard and fields planted with vegetables and fruits of all kinds, people waved and smiled and gave us cheerful "bonjour." We saw carpets of bright red poppies then in bloom, stopped and ate cherries fresh off the tree, and smelled the earthy perfume of the lush countryside.

It was strenuous, but we knew there would be hot water and cold wine at the end of the day. No one judged you if you jumped on the van or took a time out.

Our memories of the memorable trip, the first of many, linger.