In the morning, we woke up and packed up for the transfer to Jausiers. La Girandole did a wonderful breakfast again (the best breakfasts we had in France). We packed the car and Keith took the wheel.
As was the case yesterday, we began with an eye-watering descent
down the Izoard. The morning air was cool and invigorating- perfect,
actually. Zooming through all the little hameaux to the bottom of the
hill, this time we turned right to head towards Guillestre on the
D902. Passing a dramatic hump next to the road called l'Ange Gardien,
it was basically downhill the 30+ kilometers from the gite to
Guillestre through the Combe du Queyras and the Guil valley. Cyclists
were out in force, more than we had seen at any other point in the
trip, and all of them riding uphill from Guillestre towards Col de
l'Izoard. One of them was an obviously professional cyclist being
motorpaced uphill at an impressive clip.
The D902 skirts around the edge of Guillestre and begins the ascent of the Col de Vars. I had noticed that my rear tire was quite thin as far as rubber was concerned, and decided to go into Guillestre to buy a tire. Kirk and Keith figured it was a good time to switch off driving and went into centre ville with me to help me find a tire. At the tourist office in the center of downtown, Keith got directions to a nearby bike shop. Guillestre was a bustling community with a lively business district. Leaving Keith and Kirk to sort out the bikes and the car, I went in search of a tire. I got a little lost trying to find the bike shop and found more fascinating medieval back streets. Correcting my error, I found the bike shop and entered.
It was actually a general sporting goods store with a bike shop within. My French was about to be put to the test, since I was on my own while Keith and Kirk dealt with the car and bikes. The young man working at the counter was baffled by my bad French- not helped by the fact that I could not remember the word for "tire" (pneu). I beckoned him outside and pointed to my tire, saying "je voudrais un" hopefully. He looked at me, said "look" and went back inside. I followed him in, trying to look inquisitive about what he wanted me to look at. He again said "look" and stepped away, having done his duty towards me.
I pondered for a moment and was soon relieved when a neat and tidy older man in an apron stepped out of the repair area of the shop. The name "Luc" was on his apron. Hmmm. "Desirez-vous un pneu?" he asked. "Oui, oui, un pneu" I replied. He considered me for a moment and pointed to some racing tires on the wall which had been in plain sight, right next to the youngster, all along. "Vingt-trois?" he inquired with a raised eyebrow. "Non, vingt-huit" was my answer. "Vingt-huit?" he asked, pronouncing it correctly (I had said "veng-wheat" rather than "veng-tweet"). I agreed, he pursed his lips in the traditional Gallic bike mechanic way and went into the back room. He came out with a Michelin Tracer 700 x 28 tire. It was fine. "Combien?" I asked, relieved and not a little proud at having made it this far. "Douze Euros" (12 Euros, about $11.50 in US dollars- a good deal). I shelled out the cash, went out front and changed the tire, all the while greatly enjoying the market square where the shop was located. The closest thing we have in St. Paul to something like this are the farmer's markets; a French market day is different, as much social occasion as shopping. Throwing the old tire in a nearby trash can, I went back up the street to the tourist office where Kirk and Keith were considering sending out the St. Bernards.
Back on the road, we climbed up out of
Guillestre back to the D902 and turned towards the Col de Vars.
Guillestre appears to be in a sort of bowl in spectacular mountains,
and the climb was initially fairly steep. There were many good
vantage points overlooking the town and the valley, so the ride was
very pleasant. We went through some woods and then over a sort of
shoulder on the mountain into the Vars region proper. There were a
number of towns with the name "Vars" in them, with the grade
moderating a bit. Judy had gone ahead when I went into Guillestre and
Keith was riding quickly, so I was pretty much to myself. There was a
fairly strong wind flowing down into the valley which was troublesome
at times. Above the towns, the road entered a pine forest which gave
way to Alpine meadow and rock gardens. It was really quite charming
terrain in many ways. Near the top was another Refuge Napoleon. I
met up with Kirk, Judy and Keith at the top. We snapped pictures, had
an Orangina at a little shop at the summit, and then shot down the
road into the Ubaye valley towards Jausiers.
Between the Col de Vars and Jausiers, the valley was pretty
and serene. We passed what looked for all the world like a medieval
fortress flying a French flag- not the modern French tricolor but the
flag of the French royalty. From the Internet, I later identified
that this was la Redoute de Berwick. I half expected to see
knights mount their chargers and come after us with lances at the
ready and pennants flying. I haven't been able to determine when it
was first built, but it appears to have been rebuilt in the first two
decades of the 1700s by Berwick as a primary defense of the Ubaye
valley. A few kilometers later, we passed the Fort de Tournoux
without noticing- a pity as it is apparently spectacular, poised above
the Ubaye valley.
We joined the D900 and rode into Jausiers, which initially appeared to mainly be a crossroads as the main part of the old town center was out of sight. Thanks to a handy signpost we were able to find our gite, la Mexicaine, easily. Keith, Judy and I rode into the gravel driveway and saw a large square brick building with a large porch. Mme. Helen-Marie Orru greeted us with great warmth, got us drinks on the porch and sorted out our rooms. Kirk, Keith and I had a great suite with three beds and bath, with neat skylight windows to let in the crisp air and enabling us to look out at the Ubaye Valley. Mme seemed acquainted with bicyclists and filled us in about the unique features of the Ubaye valley and its seven cols. Our stay with the very charming Orrus was to be an adventure in regionalism- including their accents.
We had actually gotten in pretty early in the
afternoon, so Kirk and Keith decided that they would ride on to the Col de Restefond
and the Col de la Bonnette since it was only 25 kilometers or so.
Having ridden 69 km/43 miles, knowing that tomorrow would be a 175
km/100+ mile ride into Nice and remembering my last 100+ mile day in
the Alps, I opted out of the side trip. Kirk and Keith spent the best
part of two hours grinding up these two legendary cols, riding around
the "hat" at the top before descending back into Jausiers. According
to people they met at the summit, one of them being an older gentleman
handing out cherries, the road down the south side of La Bonnette was
"bad." Both were quite pleased with their adventure when they got
home, and both of them had together ridden the highest cols of the
trip- the Agnel and la Bonnette. I was a little jealous, I had to
admit.
In the meantime, Judy and I drove into Barcelonnette, had a very pleasant lunch, and scouted around town. The ville is obviously a vacation destination and derives much of its income from people on holiday. Unlike many such places, Barcelonnette does so with grace and good humor. I bought a roll of film for a very reasonable price, had a very nice omelette and frites, and enjoyed wandering the side streets and back streets of the centre ville. The tchotchkas appeared to be of better quality than is usually the case in tourist towns.
One of the joys of staying in gites is that the hosts can proudly introduce their regions to their guests. Alain and Helene-Marie were delighted to present us with poulet a la Provencale, polenta, cucumbers in a mustard dressing, salad, regional cheeses (kept in a neat screened box so the flies don't get all over them, unlike anywhere else in France we went) and ice cream. I'm not sure that the latter is a specialty of the Ubaye, but it was delicious. The Orrus were genial, unabashed regionalists who would rather live in Jausiers than anywhere else on Earth. Mme made a concerted effort to get our names right- including christening Kirk "Capitaine Kirk" as a way to remember his name. This reminded Kirk of his ROTC days...
There were two more regional specialties to be had, however: genepy liqueur and sugar cubes in (basically) pure grain alcohol flavored with genepy. The liqueur was delicious, somewhat reminiscent of aquavit but sweeter and meant to be sipped, and the sugar cubes were spooned out of the liqueur and popped into your mouth. Wow! It was a dramatic, fiery experience. I was the only one who went for that. Genepy is a regional herb, which Alain climbs up the mountains to harvest for the liqueurs, which he makes himself. Artisan-made genepy liqueurs were available in a maison de artisannat between Jausiers and Barcelonnette.
After a walk into downtown Jausiers in the evening, crossing the Ubaye and walking around the business district, we retired to our rooms and slept the sleep of the just. The mountain air worked its magic once again.
43.15 miles (69.04 km) in 3:27:28.