I’d already followed a lot of FR2 last year on my way down to Tarragona, so I took a road route to Le Caylar and after a very lazy lunch it was time to hit some new TET heading north. No disappointment here, this is a mountainous area and the first 100km have been varied. These are quite large expanses of not very much at all. One of the early tracks follows what seems to be, maybe, an old narrow gauge railway – no tracks, but traces of structure holding the walls back and deep, man made trenches cut into the rock. A rare event – I had to fold my mirrors in.
If this sounds a little claustrophobic worry not. Most of the track has you smashing along rocky trails with panoramic views, endless fields and countless flowers. I’m doing a lot of landscape photography with no real focal point, no snow capped peaks to have as a subject. Some long climbs, some mild rock steps, but nothing to cause alarm. Steady going.
Ultimately you find yourself above the Tarn valley with a view over it’s spectacular bridge. When I had a whole chunk of river to myself I decided it was time for a bath, so in marched – soap in hand. I guess that makes me Tarnished. I don’t feel a lot cleaner, but I probably smell much nicer. You know your bike is a true friend when you throw your soap back to the shore and it catches it in it’s front wheel. Cheers, brohim!
Temptation is a devil. Pressing on I passed a bar that looked rather charming. I’ll get a drink. Only Heineken without alcohol? Fuck it then. I’ll have a small local brew, full fat. There’s QR code on the table. Menu. Fried cheese balls. Chips. Really, I’m obligated, it’s a safety thing. I’ve a small beer in my hand. Can’t be drinking it on an empty stomach and riding on. Delicious.
With an hour to go before sunset I set off in search of two trees with a view. By the wind farms I hit the jackpot, managed forest with a spectacular view of the sunset. Shame about the noise of the wind farm, but that’s what earplugs are for. At dusk I jumped out of my skin while they all, simultaneously, did… I don’t know quite what. Noise. Loud. Wind farm things. It was obviously switching off, because they all went silent and gradually slowed down. I did the same and slept like a brick.
Woke up to something very French, a hot air balloon approaching. Hello! Sorry, bonjour! The day was long, 200km of riding with a brief hot spell in the afternoon. A bit of a blur, this day. I know I started with a good coffee and pain au chocolat, chatting to a guy on a Zephyr. I know the trails were varied and often extremely narrow and overgrown. I know lunch was simple, a big bakery next to the hardware store I visited to replace a missing #5 hex bit. I found a spot where the trail was completely blocked, with two fences and wood. Which we’ll get back to. I made it to Averne, the end of F2 and swam in the river Lot – it’s fast and freezing cold! I liked it a Lot!
The 200km today were gorgeous, almost felt like riding through a never ending English garden – complete with stately homes. I know the weather plays a role, but it’s terribly pretty. I know dinner was simply spectacular, thanks Chef Moustache. I know I struck it lucky, my first campsite was occupied by noisy teens and just as I was about to give up and go to two scruffy old trees I saw earlier I found a wholly unexpected refugio, avec cows as neighbours.
That blocked track. I said I would refer back to that. Being a good citizen of the TET obviously I made a report via the app. Weird though. I didn’t see the route on my location. I had a look at Atlas. The route… doesn’t exist. Whoops! Turns out that it’s been retired, I’ve just done 400km on an old trace that I “shouldn’t” have been riding. I’m not sure quite how I feel about that. At no point did I knowingly cross a sign forbidding access. I’m ludicrously responsible, I’ve a double silencer in my exhaust and plod along rather slowly. No laws broken, no residents disturbed. But… nicht vorbildlich.
Anyway. I’m now on official TET. Onwards!
The refuge was, as it turns out, perfect as the night was extremely damp – I stepped out to find myself deep in cloud and the bike soaked. Sometimes you get just what you need. I’d intentionally taken a sight detour east because section 4 to the north east of Aurilac looked particularly nice. It’s nice. Very nice. But it’s very road and once the fog was gone, I was full of patisserie and a coffee had warmed me up a bit I rather fancied me some proper trails.
Be careful what you wish for.
Section 4 meets with the Dordogne and goes from pretty but dull to terrifying very quickly. The river valley is deep and the trail follows it for a bit, then moves away, then back down to the river… It’s spectacular, especially as you’re on parts of the river I suspect not many people see. The first descent is fine, the climb out again is steep but nothing to write home about. After that it gets pretty damn gnarly. I don’t have an exact timeline in my head but I recall extremely steep, rutted descents and equally steep rocky climbs – some at “wide single-track” widths, with nasty drops to the side.
I’m not an aggressive rider and I’ll always pick the conservative, safe approach when I can. But here I felt I had no choice but to switch modes and go aggressive. First gear, at most second and enough speed to provide momentum – I didn’t feel like stopping would be a good idea. No drops, to my credit. One climb where I got stuck on a slippery rock, but a good butt-bounce got me over it. The trails are very wet, sometimes with flowing water and I wouldn’t have wanted to tangle with them on a big bike or on lesser tyres than my Trackers. Honestly, a lot of it was at “probably shouldn’t be doing this alone” level.
At some point S4 becomes the current, actual, S2 and the going gets a lot easier. Phew. Due to time limits I then took a quick road ride of 200km to S24 north west of Tours. I’d skipped the transition zone between mountains and plains, so the change was a bit of a shock. Surprisingly not an unwelcome one. I’d rather imagined this as being rather dull but it’s a lot better than I’d imagined. You’re chopping around a bit, back roads and going around fields and some of it does feel a bit pointless – trail riding for the sake of trail riding. But somehow not quite. It’s as if, if this were a video game, the difficulty has been turned right down.
No climbs, no descents. Some narrow bits, but easy enough. You see the turns coming. Finding a place for the hammock is child’s play. Finding food or a coffee, no trouble. It’s just gentle and easy. Then you find yourself in Le Mans and the route takes you to the famous 24hrs racetrack, where you can’t help but think “holy crap, this place is huge”. It really is. The big race is in a few weeks and they’re already setting up. The scale of it, the whole infrastructure from tourism to research is remarkable. Then you’ve got the parts of the track that are public roads, which does feel a little bit silly on a DR350 with knobbies and squishtyres. Put a huge smile on my face though.
North of Le Mans it’s more of what came before, which is fine, I skip a few bits. Then section 4 becomes section 8 and the landscape changes, it gets hilly. This isn’t a subtle change, I suspect the route was plotted by someone else or the rules here are different. The first trail, just out of Gace, is a scramble up a muddy track deep in the forest. It’s not a one off. It’s about a 33/33/33 mix of road, twin track and these narrow muddy lanes. Some of which are very wet, very slippery and occasionally a little bit challenging – I’ve fallen twice, which is rare for me.
I came out of one lane to find a KTM 390 stuck in a ditch with another one parked next to it, the lads needed an extra pair of hands to get it out. Sorted in a few minutes and I was on my way. I hope the two French riders who owned the bikes are doing well! They are, literally, the only other TET riders I’ve met on this trip.
Just off the TET is Mont Ormel and the monument to the battle of Montormel, literally a few minutes ride. I only saw the signposts for it, but after googling a little about the battle it seemed worthwhile. It’s worthwhile. The surface layer alone is worth a short detour, you have a view over the plains around Falaise – with our without the tanks positioned up there it’s a fine view. But the history of the 1st Polish Armoured and General Maczek hits a nerve, especially if you’ve spent the last two days sliding your way around the tracks and hills of Normandy yourself.
I’m now slipping my way along the lanes. This S8 is a wonderful route, I’d recommend it to anyone. You’re up and down the whole time, there’s enough progress but some challenge. It’s different to Spain, where I believe the law in most regions demands twin track – here in France things are more varied, which is rather fun. You have gorgeous tree-lined lanes, much narrower than almost anything you find the other side of the mountains. Sadly it does make for less spectacular photos. The difference laws make. I’ve reported a few track closures and blockages and I’ll soon be in Le Havre, the end of my trail for this trip.
It’s my final day on the trails and I am making a mix of following the TET, but trying to judiciously skip bits that can be skipped or that are enough of a detour to slow me down. As I got to the channel coast that was, as they say, that for the TET. I need new tyres, an oil change and a place to leave the bike until summer, so I went in search of a workshop. The most appealing was Vic Factory, which I only found because of an advert on a fish and chips van. But it’s very rural and onward transport would be with bus and train, so that ruled Vic out. I asked Mr. Google to take me to Caen and the first big workshop there.
Then my engine stopped. No spluttering, no progressive loss of power, just stopped. No noise. No sudden surprise. Just stopped and I rolled to a stop by the side of the road. Rather glad it was a road, to be fair. A good moment to fail. I whipped out my tools – recklessly. I didn’t have a sharp knife with me on a lot of this trip, for some reason – I had picked up a simple kitchen knife at a little shop. Which was stored with my tools. Keep the hard sharp things together and out of the waterproof luggage. Inevitably one of my poor digits slid along the length of the knife while pulling the tool roll out. A deep cut and enough blood to cover my left hand and much of my forearm. Lovely. I’ll have to fix that before I fix anything else.
After checking the basics – there was no spark – I logged a call with ADAC via their app, knowing how long these things can take. This time I brought a small pen style multimeter with me, which may have been tempting fate, but I was happy to have it. By the time I had swapped the spark plug and measured the resistance of all the relevant componentry – which was all within the expected ranges – I was told that recovery were on their way.
Which was as useful as a chocolate fireguard. I was taken to a small car workshop, nice couple that ran it but they had no interest in fixing up a DR350 that I know better than anyone. The usual negotiating with ADAC resulted in – surprise, surprise – onward transport to Vic Factory! Where Poe and I were dropped off and no human presence was to be seen. Reassuringly there was a well equipped workshop. Vic himself, well, I eventually found him in the roof of an outbuilding fitting insulation. A lovely young lad, a new business, an enthusiastic welcome and my first shower in 10 days. Plus a free lift from a customer back to Deuville. Not the notoriously dull Honda touring bike, the French seaside town.
So, for the second time on this grand western European trip and the fourth or fifth time overall I have ended a trip with support from ADAC. Which isn’t all bad, they are now responsible for paying to get me home. Free trains, planes and hotels – could be worse. It really is a must have service, at least for me. Poe is with Vic in his cavernous workshop, I’ll see if I have any spare bits I can send to help with the repair when I get home. When we are reunited he should have new tyres, new oil and a repaired luggage rack – the aluminium on one side gave up somewhere along the road. A running engine would be nice as well. All ready for the challenges of TET UK carrying a pilot gradually gaining mass from being stuffed daily with fish and chips. I think I am going to have a steel luggage system welded up when we get home – alu is a liability.
What can I say about this leg of the trip? It’s been much better than I expected, I absolutely made the right choice going towards the mountains in France and staying out of the heatwave – plus a whole trip in the flatlands would have been rather dull. But not as dull as I feared. It is absolutely possible to have a good time without true mountains. France is just over the border from where I life, provides routes without end and those routes are absolutely worth riding. I should ride more of them.
Having done Spain just a week before coming to do this trip it’s remarkable, when you are traveling north, how quickly the sunset times shift – back in the south of Spain it was sunset around about 9, by the time I got to Normandy it was after 10. It’s also remarkable how quickly your budget shifts. Coffee started at 1.20 for a Cafe con Leche, by the time I made it to Normandy it was up to 4 to have a Cafe au Lait. Lets not talk about the half day in Paris. I did budget for western European prices though, wild camping makes it all work.
Speaking of which, I have become one with my hammock. I sleep like a rock in it. There was no settling in phase this time. No sleepless nights at the start. I am one with the hammock, I am also one with my bike. Far less pain, far less discomfort, much quicker recovery – which is nice. No wet feet helps massively though.
One small technical point. Tyres. The Michelin Tracker is one of the most aggressive tyres you can buy for this kind of riding, especially using mousse I was a little sceptical about it’s longevity. I have had two hot 300km road days. The first set of tyres made it across the Pyrenees and down through Portugal, could have gone further but it was convenient to make a change. This set have made it from the Algarve to Normandy. The mousses are fine. I do not ride particularly hard, I keep below 100 on the roads – usually more like 80. But even in the mud of Normandy I still had fabulous traction. If you are willing to go at a steady pace and don’t need to ride fast on the roads I can’t recommend the combination enough. Endless grip, puncture proof.
