On the road again in Northern France

I'd done my London - Paris bike ride, soaked in the vibe and dug the people of the beautiful French capital. Now it was time to make the journey back home.

It would've been a bit too predictable to jump on the Eurostar or get a flight straight back to London, so I chose a more convoluted approach.

The aim of my weekend away at the end of September was not just to get from London to Paris by bicycle, but I had also wanted to take in as many sights as possible while in Northern France.

So, at 9am I scooted from my youth hostel in Porte de Pantin, across to Gare du Nord and took a train towards the Compiegne area. I was back in the Picardy region but this was a very pleasant side to the region.

This area is a popular getaway for the bustling Parisians. I got off the train at Longueuil Sainte-Marie, just ahead of the Foret de Compiegne.

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It was a fairly sleepy town with a pleasant river running through and forested tracks. I did quite a few circuits of the village in order to find the road to La Croix St Ouen. Soon I bumped into a local who seemed very happy to help me out. It was an old "Marcel" type who was trundling along from the bakers on his bicycle. With a baguette, under his arm, riding an old sit-up-and-beg bike which he pedalled through his heels, wearing a beret and an old jacket, I wondered if I'd stepped into a timewalk of by-gone days in France. I could've sworn he had a string of onions around his neck under his jacket !

Given that the guy wouldn't have been much under 70 years of age he was incredibly spritely in the way he spoke. Again, as with other folk I had met in the provinces he was very surprised and almost flattered that an outsider was in his town touring around.

I'd been trying to get to Pierrefonds, and my initial question had been to ask him the way to the D85 towards La Croix St Ouen. "You don't want to take the road - not with all these tossers that are gonna knock you off," he said. "No, follow me - I'll show you a really beautiful ride along the side of the river, where the birds sing and there are cute rabbits. You can even get little views of the castles around here. And right at the end of the ride there's a pretty little bridge to go over."


"You see," he continued, "You're in the most important part of France, and I know everything there is to know round here. I was born and raised here, and I don't know anywhere else - I don't need to ! Follow me !" He was lively and enthusiastic, but not a psycho so I obliged and followed him.

In the 3 mile ride that I did with the old boy I was given a brief history of the local area and a quick low down of all the best places to visit around. Judging by the ecstasy he displayed when talking about the castle of Pierrefonds it was apparent that that was the number one place to visit.
"But take it easy," he said, as he bid me good bye. "It's a good 15km to Pierrefonds. It could be a long day !"
"I'll be careful", I replied. I didn't want to give him a heart attack by telling him where I was really hoping to get to. (Amiens).

The ride to Pierrefonds was beautiful. I could see why he was excited about me going there. Compiegne forest is idyllic, and provides lots of possibilities for off-road biking. All the trails are waymarked as well. The sun, shone and there were hardly any cars. It was great. The terrain was fairly easy too, apart from a mini climb up to St Jean des Bois.

"Marcel" was definitely right about Pierrefonds castle. It was a very imposing august piece of military architecture which dates back to the Middle Ages.

I stopped, along with a whole load of tourists, to marvel at its sheer size. The way it suddenly surges into view as you approach the village is so impressive that you can't help but stop and stare.

That was the high point of the day as far as scenery went.

I then pushed on back through the forest to reach the town of Compiegne itself. I could have stopped and looked at a bit more of the town, but I didn't. There's a very nice town hall and castle there too, but I didn't stop. Too much spinning around the outskirts of towns looking for the road I was after meant I wasted a bit of time and was keen to make progress Northwards. Still, I was glad to have made the circular detour around the Compiegne Forest. It was definitely worth the trip.

The road back up to Amiens took me through the Picardy region. This department of the Somme is quite undulating. As well as fields, there are a few military cemeteries reflecting its war-time past.
The road may have had a desolate feel it, but it was more interesting than say the road to Gisors, as it undulated constantly and twisted through various small quaint villages - Rollot, Montdidier, Moreeuil, Boves.

Also the wind was behind me, which made a lot of difference. I could have taken the quieter D26 through Ailly sur Noye. But really the more principal D935 was very quiet on this sunny Saturday afternoon. In fact I saw a number of club cyclists along this road. So it seemed like this was the place to be.

From Mondidier onwards - around 18 miles from Amiens I could see a tall tower and a church steeple over the hills in the distance. Could that really have been Amiens ? I hoped it was, as it was good to have something concrete to aim for. In fact, this proved to be true as I reached the main suburban road that led to Amiens city centre. My bike ride ended right in front of Amiens train station - next to this tower. Well, I had been wanting something concrete to aim for - that's exactly what I got !

In the distance the tower had been a guiding light - a star to follow, an expectation of making it through the end of a long journey.

Once past the initial celebration of achieving the goal, it then became apparent what an architectural monstrosity the Perret Tower really is ! This ugly ode to concrete makes for a stark contrast to the beauty and intricacy of the world heritage site of Amiens cathedral.

I had around 2 hours to kill before catching my train to Calais. So I used the time to stroll around, and have a well deserved quiche, cake and beer. Apart from the Tour Perret, this town was quite pleasing to the eye. There was even an affluent feel to the place. I could have fallen asleep in the park quite comfortably, but I decided to do that on my train journey.

Once in Calais, I felt a real sense of achievement that I'd it made it round Northern France. There may not be the breathtaking sights of the high mountains characteristic of the Alps or the Pyrenees while out cycling, but Northern France is definitely worth a bike trip as there are still lots of other sights to see.

Paris in the Autumn

Paris in the Spring may be a beautiful time of year with the wide array of bright colours from flowers and blossom, bright sunshine, birds singing, love in the air.....and all that.

But I just love Paris in the Autumn. Ok, maybe I'm biased - Autumn is my favourite season.

The day after my arrival in Paris (on my recent cycling trip there) I spent the time just strolling around my favourite places in Paris, digging the scene and feeling glad to be alive.
Here are a few picture memories.

Cyclo Cross - The Story So Far

It's only just the end of September but I've already done half a dozen cyclo cross races. What's strange about it is that my 'cross bike hasn't seen any mud !

It's fair enough that I started my cyclo cross season in August, so not much dirt expected then. But the first few London Cyclo Cross League rounds have taken place in bright sunshine and even summer temperatures.

You were more likely to need suncream than warming embrocation cream on your legs !

The league has not been going too badly as yet. I haven't won any rounds - unlike last year, but my performances have been solid. For the first 3 rounds we've done so far, I've finished second in two rounds, and third in another. However, once Nicky Hughes (Activ Cycles) and Katharine Mason (Sussex Nomads) arrive we will be battling for third - so my position will probably slip. I don't mind too much, as it's all meant to be abit of fun for the winter months. Well, that's when winter eventually arrives !

photo by Andy Waterman: http://andywaterman.blogspot.com/

2Wheel Chick goes to Paris

As the weather forecast for last weekend was looking really positive I made a last minute dot com decision to go on a mini cycling trip to France.

I'd originally had a mega plan to do La Route des Grandes Alpes, but then thought against it for logistical reasons. But hey, riding in France doesn't always have to be about the high mountains.

For all the times that I've been cycling in France I had never ridden in or to Paris. It's something I've always wanted to do, and getting there can't be that difficult once you've crossed the channel.

So that's what I did last weekend.

Leaving London

Actually, my journey started on Wednesday night when I rode my pannier laden bike from my office in Westminster and across the way to Victoria Station.

I boarded the 7.47pm from Victoria to Newhaven Harbour. When I arrived there at around quarter past nine the place looked a real ghost town. Not a lot happening, no one in the streets. I could see the port, but I had to go around in circles a bit to find the ticket office.

Boarding the ferry was a pretty straight forward affair. All 10 foot passengers plus 5 trucks, 2 cars 3 transits boarded the frigate. There would be no mad scramble for the best seats on the 10.30pm crossing for Dieppe !

We promptly boarded the ferry and I found a spot where I could curl up and go to sleep.

Once in Dieppe, at around 4am (local time) I rode across town to my hotel. The road out of the port was cold, lonely and pretty hilly. In the darkness, I was able to adjust my eyes so visibility was not a problem. There were hardly any oncoming vehicles so there were no scary instances of getting dazzled.

I took the main circular road (La Rocade) to get to the Formule 1 hotel, but I believe there was a shorter route on quieter roads. At that time of night I couldn't be bothered to try and find it though, and it wasn't as if I would be caught up in sprawling traffic at half 4 in the morning !

Once I arrived in my hotel I was relieved to get my head down and rest. The 5 mile ride into town had been pretty much uphill and I was quite tired. Hopefully I'd have a bit more energy the next day to make the 100+mile trip to Paris.

I kept my bicycle in my room, which the receptionist was happy to let me do. He had suggested I leave the bike outside as it would be safe. I replied by saying I would rather not leave my bike outside all night. "But let's face it," he said, "night time has finished !" He had a point I suppose.


Normandy and Picardy


The 1 hour time difference meant that sun rise was at almost 8am. I didn't leave the hotel until after 9 o'clock.

Dieppe is an old town, with nothing special to see, but as port towns go it was quite pleasant. It was certainly a more cheerful place than Newhaven.

The sun shone brightly, even if it was a little cool. The rush hour traffic could hardly be called rush hour. Traffic was light and orderly. Very soon I was on the minor departmental roads heading down towards St Saen (Normandy). There were hardly any vehicles along this road. I think I counted 6 cars along the 20 mile stretch ! The architecture was pleasant - mainly wood panelled bungalows that had windows adorned with flower beds.
The terrain was very easy - flat with very gentle undulations. I didn't care to ride particularly quickly. With 9kg of panniers to move along on my heavy cyclo cross bike and my unsylph-like frame, there would be no rushing on this journey !

Anyway, my friend Rachel wouldn't be home until evening, so I had all day to get to Paris !

St Saen was a quaint Normandy village. When I arrived, there was alot of activity as it was market day, and all the locals were out to meet and greet each other - exchange stories about life and the universe while getting their kilo of butter.

I proved to be a bit of a novelty as they could see I wasn't from round there and they seemed quite flattered that I'd stopped in their town. In fact that seemed to be a bit of a recurring theme on my trip.

After a croissant aux amandes I pressed on towards Buchy, where the architecture and the terrain began to change. There were more two/three storey brick houses that had balconies and window boxes. The roads even began to climb uphill a little. But still, it was nothing that required the granny ring.

I then passed through towns that ended in Andelle - Croisy sur Andelle, Perrier sur Andelle. Things were quite scenic here. I lost a bit of time when I missed a turning for Lyons La Foret and had to go back on myself. It was a bit irritating as I ended up climbing back up the lovely descent I'd just done. Then after that the road up to Lyon La Foret was a 4 mile climb. In fact, that was the main climb of the day.

The scenery around here was beautiful, and I imagine it's one of the local areas where cyclists go. There were also various trails through the forest, so probably alot of off-road stuff goes on here too.

I also noted the town of Lyons La Foret to be quite a sought after place to live. It's got a very old feel to it, with some parts having preserved it's original 17th century architecture. It's that part of Normandy where the houses are decked out in period decor, some even with thatched roofs and oak beam exteriors to give it that extra historic feel - then topped up with a satellite dish on the roof !

The area of Andelle, Bray and Lyons La Foret is definitely a pleasant area to spend a bit of time and stop at a country cafe.

I was keen to make progress on my journey so pushed on further south towards Etrepagny. After Lyon La Foret, fortunately the road went downhill. Unfortunately, so did the scenery.

La Neuve Grange and Etrepagny were grey dismal towns that complemented the non-descript, flat windswept landscape. This area was rather like Flanders but without the bergs or Trappist beers - just combine harvesters and municipal housing. I even passed through a place called Doudeauville, which I thought might be an inland version of that swanky Deauville place by the sea.
But it wasn't - just ordinary folks hanging around the streets with not alot to do.

I then headed on to Gisors, which, scenery-wise was the only saving grace on this section of the journey.

Here, I had my afternoon snack before taking the road to Marines.
This was another boring trek across flat roads. Also the traffic was a bit heavier now, with a few trucks and transit vans passing. I was looking forward to getting away from these unpicturesque plains of the Picardie region, and heading into the Parisien region.

I could have taken the more picturesque lanes that followed the railway line, and then cut down through to Marines. However, I became impatient and eager to reach Paris sooner, so I took the faster D915 road. I soon regretted this as it was a soul destroying ride into a head wind, with lots of transit vans and trucks. Fortunately, most of these vehicles were travelling in the opposite direction. I suppose, with it being around 5pm commercial traffic was moving away from the city rather than going towards it. Also, with the higher density of traffic I figured that I must be on the edge of the Parisian region. Well, I was in Ile de France - the outer 'burbs of the Paris area. At this moment I turned down a road that took me due South - the D53. This was such a relief as suddenly the wind was no longer against me and I was no longer constrained to riding at 10 miles an hour !


The Route into Paris


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Uh oh, I then hit a problem when, this road took me to a fast national road, which was banned to cyclists. How annoying was that. I was only about 25miles from Paris. I could smell it, I could even taste it, but I couldn't make the link to get there. What a heart-sink moment. A local club cyclist stopped to assist, and gave me directions on how to get across.

It involved going back on my self to some small villages - Gouzangrez, Us, Ableiges, Montgeroult and then through to Pontoise. That meant I would then have had a really tedious couple of hours of riding a couple of miles, then studying the maps as I picked my way through the various suburbs - places like St Germain en Laye, Maisons Lafitte and La Defense. Ok, these places do look nice on sunny days like this, but it was around 6pm now and the sun was going in - I was getting a bit fed up of turning the pedals and I was just looking forward to putting my feet up in a Parisian Cafe - regardless of the fact that I my panniers and high visibility day-glo jacket were somewhat lacking in Parisian chic !

The guy, Patrice, was a friendly chap who was originally from Guadeloupe. He'd been out and done his regular 100km club run so was quite willing to twiddle his way back to Pontoise with me. I was feeling a little irritated and the idea of having to ride my heavy bike and panniers at even semi club run pace over rolling hills didn't sound that appealing. So I just politely thanked him for his offer and told him I'd be able to manage myself.

My ride to Paris officially ended at Pontoise - about 20miles out from the Arc de Triomphe. The next time I do this ride (which I most certainly will do next summer) I will make sure I ride right through the Parisian Western suburbs as the limited exposure I had to these places gave me a flavour of how picturesque these areas are.

The neighbourhoods were very green, with woods and rivers nearby. The architecture was old and had character. Alot of those houses had nicely painted fronts with window boxes full of fresh colourful flowers. The pavements were very neat and the folks walking down the streets were turned out in their Sunday best, even though it was only Thursday early evening - and of course some had the obligatory poodle ! This is definitely the area for the so called "BCBG" (bon chic, bon genre) - the French sloane rangers !

And of course, the rolling hills and green spaces also seemed to be a haunt for the club cyclist. I saw quite a few of them round here. All in various hues of sponsored kit, and all very polite in the way they acknowledged me.


Arrival in Paris


I caught the train into St Lazare station. My next mission was to make the short ride across to Porte Maillot, where my friend Rachel lives. It was almost 8pm and it was beginning to get dark.

There was a real bustle in the streets as people were either making their way home from work, or were on their way out for the evening.
Coming out straight onto Boulevard Haussmann was a real baptism of fire, in terms of riding around Paris. I had to dodge round shoppers, tourists, and of course the numerous scooters, buses and taxis. Motorists don't really use indicators when driving around Paris. There seems to be no etiquette about which lane you travel in either. You might be in the left hand lane, but that doesn't mean you won't be turning right ! And as for junctions, you need to use all 7 senses !
I was just glad to be lit up brighter than a Christmas tree.

Despite the chaos in the traffic, I was just glad to be there riding through central Paris. It was such a buzz.
From Boulevard Haussmann, I made a left turn into rue de la Boetie. This was a long but narrow road (in contrast to the wide boulevard). There were lots of small boutiques, which got posher as I neared rue Faubourg St Honore and eventually Champs Elysees. There were lots of swanky black 4 x 4's pulling up and picking up beautiful or important people to go "Somewhere".

The traffic on Champs Elysees was moving but it was cramped and there were zillions of traffic lights. So when we did eventually get the green light, there was a massive surge for 25 metres to the next set of traffic lights. As I had to accelerate with the motorists, it made for quite a bumpy ride as I rolled over the cobbles. I now have even greater admiration for the pro cyclists who speed up and down this road 10 times at the end of the Tour de France every year. Drivers on the Champs have a real knack of being able to fit their cars in spaces you wouldn't think a car would fit. But then again, they seem quite blase about scratches or dents on the car bodywork as well.

At the top of Champs Elysees I stopped and photographed the majestic Arc de Triomphe in all it's glory, with the 12 avenues radiating out from it in all directions. Immediately, I was back on my bike, whizzing around this fairground of a roundabout, and down to Porte Maillot. By half past 8 I was in Rachel's flat enjoying a celebratory meal with her and Yves.

I'd had a great day out in the saddle. I had done just over 100miles in wall to wall sunshine. It had been beautiful all day. That was something I'd always wanted to do. Now I know it can be done quite easily, I imagine I will probably do this a few more times.

Which bike, which way - Decisions, Decisions

So the summer cycling season is finishing, and I'm beginning to think about what cycling I'll be doing next year - which will also dictate what cycling I do over the winter months.

Cyclo cross is a no brainer item to put on the agenda since I enjoy cross, and it's the best way to jazz up a cold winter afternoon - especially as the days get shorter.

But what else ? What will I do, which bike will I ride ??
I've had two solid road racing seasons, which will give me good grounding for a decent run for next year (hopefully).

Let's look around though and see the calendar - there are lots of cyclosportives to be done. In fact on the European scene, it's taken almost as seriously as road races when you consider all the various series and ranking events they have.

There's the mountain biking - the national series events, Merida events and all the various enduros - Sleepless in the Saddle, Dusk til Dawn, 24 hour Mayhem etc.

Of course we mustn't forget track cycling which is quite prominent in my neck of the woods.

The latest I heard is that there are a few BMX tracks also near me, and a thriving racing scene too.

Conversely, I could forget about all competitive cycling and just do cycle touring, and gather material/photos for "that book I've always wanted to write".

Of course, I could just do everything and have fun - but then I become a master of nothing (which I already have a tendency to do).

This summer I've done road racing, track cycling, a few cyclosportives, even a couple of mountain biking events, then with cyclo cross starting earlier I've ended up doing a bit of that too.

Basically I love doing stuff on two wheels. I'm a two wheel tart that wants to play the cycling discipline field. I don't want to commit to any one discipline exclusively. I suppose road racing is my old faithful, longstanding friend - but sometimes I get a bit annoyed with it and storm off and go and pick up one of my other bikes for a day and have fun elsewhere.

Even in cycle sport though, a point comes when you get a bit old to be riding around in various events. You have to decide to settle down with one (or maybe two) and ditch the rest.

I don't think I can decide now. I'll make the most of this part of the season where you just wind down from the very competitive stuff and enjoy yourself.
Let me just have a bit more fun before I make a plan.

Bring on the Cross

It's that time again - road racing is winding down, nights are drawing in sooner, weather's getting a little cooler and my legs start itching to get off the Tarmac.

Dig out the knobblies, dust down last year's mud, kick off those uncomfortable road cleats, don the spd's (or the egg beaters), and bring on the Cross.

'Cos cyclo cross is back !

*******************“Everyone behind the line – I will set you off in the next 30 seconds” calls out the commissaire as he looks at his watch. The riders at the front jockey for position with their bikes on the front grid. They are held back by an imaginary gate that they will burst through on hearing the whistle. Other riders wait patiently, feet on pedals, ready to push off and begin their race. It may be cold, but the sun is out, as are many spectators. Some are carrying drinks, spare wheels, or even spare bikes. Some, keen to record the action have cameras. Others just want to cheer on their local heroes. To the onlooker this seems a very peculiar sight in the middle of the school playing field on a Sunday afternoon. But it’s nothing to get alarmed over. This is cyclo-cross.

The whistle goes, and they’re off. The herd of cyclists charge off at full speed around the field, only to screech on the brakes after a few hundred metres in order to negotiate a steep drop-off - the first of various obstacles along the course. The stronger riders pull away at a ferocious pace and the field becomes strung out, as riders roll along at various speeds. As the race continues competitors will have to steer their way around many more obstacles, including sharp z-bends, planks, steep uphill banks, or even a sandpit. The spectators watch avidly as the lead rider completes the first lap of the muddy terrain.

Although panting and sweating, he is still focused on working to the maximum during the 60 minute race. His movement is the epitome of agility as man and bike move in leaps and bounds around the 2 mile (approx) course. The rest of the field plug their way round the course at various levels of pace and skill. Spectators cheer and goad the muddy riders while watching mini battles develop within the race. After one hour they applaud avidly as the winners cross the finish-line, with just enough energy to do victory salutes.***************

These were my first impressions when I first watched a cyclo cross race, and that was what started my interest in having a go.
Sadly, I don't float along the field with any form of agility or skill, but I have lots of fun when I do a cyclo cross race. I have definitely improved since the first season that I did it, and it has helped my bike handling skills on the road.
But most of all, it has kept me in trim during those cold sluggish months and it has helped to stave off any bouts of SAD.

Bring on the Cross !

Hog Hill - What a Beast !!

So after all the discussions, steering groups and debates, as well as the bull-dozing and temporary hitches in order to rescue a colony of newts, we've now got a replacement to the beloved Eastway cycle circuit.

Eastway may have been tucked away in a run-down part of East London, in proximity to a traveller's colony, but it was the place where lots of cyclists including Jenny Copnall and Bradley Wiggins would've cut their teeth in cycle racing. When it was closed in 2006 to make way for construction of the 2012 Olympics stadium, the London Cycling Community was saddened by this loss and worried about how cycle sport could develop when such a key facility was missing.

So when the Redbridge Cycle Centre (aka known as Hog Hill) was officially opened for regular racing in mid August people were pleased to know that we finally had a replacement cycle circuit. The brand new facility complete with shower and changing area, cafe, meeting rooms and bike hire met everyone's approval.

The actual circuit, however might not have brought about the same reaction from the riders.

I finally got to try out the circuit last weekend for the London Criterium Champs. I suppose I should have had an idea of what the course would be like, if nothing else by the name. Hog Hill surely can't mean it's gonna be pan flat !

The warm up alone, sent my heart rate through the roof. The circuit twists and turns and goes up and down. The exposed area made for some strong cross winds which really put your cornering skills to the test. Note, this is particularly challenging if you ride with deep section wheel rims.

After around 800m of twists and turns you reach a section where you can go quite fast in a straight line. However, over to your left you can see the road rising up sharply to reach the start/finish line. "Oh my God do I really have to go up there ??!!" you ask yourself. And the Man above, he say "Yes"! So alas, up you grind. The gradient is around 7% - not too bad, but there's an ugly head wind to contend with.

As you get used to the slog the road curves to the right and becomes a sharp 10%, then up to 12% - just as your quads are burning, and the density of the crowds is at it's thickest ! You then heave yourself over the start/finish line to begin the next lap.

When we did the London Criterium Champs our women's race had to complete the circuit 15 times. That was tough. within a couple of laps alot of us just wanted to pack up and go home. The steady rain definitely dampened our spirits.

With a small but quality field of 19 riders I knew my work would be cut out for me, and I would not be getting much shelter for the next hour !

Within the first lap the field had shattered. It was a really demoralising moment, and after 2 laps I wanted to ride off the circuit and back to the car. Instead of a peloton there were just fragments of twos, threes and fours - even a couple of lone riders. Thankfully I wasn't alone. I found company in the shape of Lisa from TriSportNews. Having someone to ride with made a difference, but going up the hill was a real struggle. I could definitely feel the superfluous adipose tissue as I struggled to keep up with Lisa on the climbs. With my extra pounds of flesh and her super light bike I think I deduced I was having to shift twice as much weight as her !

Somehow on the last couple of laps I managed to find some energy from deep within - either somewhere that I hadn't already dug into, or some place where nothing had previously existed.

To my surprise, I managed to haul myself up the hill and across the finish line ahead of Lisa. Considering how tough it had been for us, we were both glad to have finished the race in points scoring positions, and at least we had stayed in, where a many people had packed in.

Susan, from Maldon and District Cycling Club had been pleased with her race and tried to sound reassuring by saying "Give it 3 races here and you'll find it's not bad at all." At the time, my first thought was - "You must be bloody joking if you think I'll be back here again." But now, with a bit of distance and after some recovery time I don't think it's such a bad idea to return to the Hog Hill Circuit. It'll harden the London riders and make us tough enough to cope with any circuit that gets thrown at us in future.

So yes, I'll be back - I'm not sure you'll catch me saying it's not a beast though !

Top 2 photos by Julene and Kevin Knox
Other photos by Sylvain Garde, aka Patron Choufflard