Day 11 - mistral mischief

 

Following a rude alarm clock awakening at 7:30 I quickly packed up and headed for breakfast. 

“10 minutes! They don’t wake up!” Came the call from the clearly vexed campsite owner. I’d be waiting for breakfast. 

I’d gotten used to the bizarre arrangement of going to one place for a coffee, another place for coissants and then begging and pleading for some basics like butter, jam, and a knife.

I sat down with a coffee and watched as the oversleeping staff wandered in and received a somewhat awkward silence.

Eventually, with pastries duly despatched, I was ready for the off.

Continuing down the gorge, my route followed the path of the Ardeche: I was for the first time at least travelling in a downstream direction but the road remained high - at times 300m above the river below. The road - whilst being silky smooth tarmac - was far from flat, and with the mistral blowing down the valley, some of the switchbacks became interesting!

It was a truly sensory experience with my eyes feasting on the spectacular views into the gorge, my ears being barraged with the sound of insects and my nose feasting on the smell of roadside wild herbs - and wild goats…

After around 35km through the Gorge, the road finally descended to St Martin d’Ardeche and shortly afterwards to Aigueze. Knowing that today would have little by way of opportunity to stop for sustenance, I stopped st a Super U for a baguette & water top up and carried on my way.

With the mistral now at my back, I rolled alongside the river Rhone, following its banks - downstream!!! With the slight downward gradient coupled with the hefty tailwind, I zipped through the next 45km with varying scenery - a vast landscape looking towards Mont Ventoux but more locally everything from a 12th century priory to a nuclear power station. Soon the scenery became almost entirely made up of vineyards; I was in wine country and heading at speeds in excess of 20mph through to Chateauneuf-du-Pape.

I stopped for a breather and a baguette in a picnic area under the shade of some trees just outside the village of Bedarrides, then continued on to Monteux and then to Carpentras. 

In so doing, my direction turned from south to east, and the mistral now became a cross wind. This was something of a game changer since it was blustering left and right, coinciding with the point at which the road started to climb. 

The going had got tough now, made only slightly more delightful by the approach of the giant Mt Ventoux. I had climbed it 14 years ago and had considered the idea of tackling it from Sault but I did the maths: the summit is at 1900m and if the wind is 40 plus mph at the bottom, it would be a bad idea to be at the top. 

I had 50km remaining as I entered Carpentras which would be all uphill. According to the BBC the wind speeds were at 48mph and showed no sign of abating. I was in for a tricky afternoon. I battled on for 20km to Villes Sur Auzon where I stopped for a coke and a rest. 

I had 30km remaining, mostly passing through the beautiful Gorges de la Nesque. As I turned into the Gorge, I was delighted to see the mistral doing the only respectable thing and turning to blow me up the valley. 

Like this morning, this made for some interesting sections and turns but I made good progress, stopping only to marvel at the spectacular Gorge. 

Eventually I reached the top of the gorge and poked my nose out to test the wind - the last 5km would be into the full head of the mistral. To make matters worse, the road climbed gently towards Sault, and as I reached the town the slopes ramped up to 8% for a killer of a 1300m.

Exhausted, I collapsed into my hotel. Having climbed 1750m over 145km, it had been a fantastic day, but at times not an easy one.