An Attempt to Train for RAGBRAI

Ben and I determined our bicycles were looking pretty poorly used sitting in their lonely corner so we decided to take them out on Saturday, May 16. It was a beautiful day, hardly a cloud in the sky, despite the threat of rain during the week. Before heading out, Ben and I picked a bike route to take out of Toulouse, there are quite a few to choose from, once you find a good map. We chose the way which follows the Garonne. The Garonne is Toulouse's river, where many people like to sit and watch and enjoy the parks that are around it.When we set out, I figured this would be easy as pie just meandering through the crowds of people and being aware of traffic, just as long as we stuck to the bike path. But since it was a nice day EVERYONE was out. It seemed the whole city of Toulouse decided it was time to see the river and its splendors. So we crept along on our bikes, dodging a baby carriage, laughing teens and a elderly couple taking a stroll. It was all fine, it just seemed hectic and not as relaxing as I figured it would be. Finally, we broke free of the "downtown" rush next to the river and were on the edges of Toulouse. The path still was a little busy, but not as packed as the downtown part was. On this part of the path there were several people doing as we were, taking a ride on their bikes in a fairly leisurely manner. But there was also a few joggers, walkers and people just enjoying the scenery.
The ride only took a few minutes and we were at the Blagnac bridge (Pont de Blagnac). We crossed it to see what the trail looked liked on the other side (for we didn't really have a plan once we got to the bridge). It looked too muddy for our trusty road bikes, so we rode back across the bridge and decided to take a paved trail that lead through some countryside, hoping somehow that it would get to Cornebarrieu, our initial destination. It lead quite a ways, probably two to three miles long, it lead past a horse farm, with girls and their horses training fiercely at their jumps, and at the end a few companies we had not heard of. We began to follow other bicyclists and found ourselves at the edge of a park, with a couple mile lake next to it. The paths were too rocky (yet again) to continue with our bikes, but there were water skiers and wake boarders training on a ski-lift/pulling device on the water. They practiced jumps and turns as well as how to get off the water with a lot of momentum. Ben and I stood captivated for a little while, thus giving our legs and our arms a rest from our bikes.
"Are you tired?" Ben asked as he turned from the entertainment.
"Nope, I'm up for riding a bit more."
"Sounds good, cause it seems as if we'll have to back track to get to Pont de Blagnac yet again." I nodded my head and we headed back the way we had come.
Once back at the bridge, we crossed it yet again and found that a bike trail we could follow was on the road, headed toward Ben's work. We took it and soon found some more decent, road bike paths. One even had two lanes, just as the cars did. This two lane bike path led us straight (or nearly so) to Ben's work. It seemed a reasonable journey, one that could easily be taken to work. Ben thought so too. Later, Ben had to take those paths because the car was in the shop. But our destination wasn't quite reached. So we found our way through a maze of not so busy roads to the round-a-bouts we take to Cornebarrieu, still following our trusty bike path. Our bike path remained a good one straight up to the outskirts of Cornebarrieu. We decided to rest yet again for the heat was getting to us. After we finished resting, we quickly jumped on our bikes again, taking the trail back the way we came. It seemed faster to get back to Toulouse, than getting to Cornebarrieu, but I suppose that is because we knew exactly where we were headed and which paths to take. We soon were back at our apartment, exhausted and hot, but happy that our bike ride would qualify for training.
Toulouse is a pretty good place for a bike, the city has many bike paths. The only thing that makes riding to one destination or another slightly difficult is that the bike paths seem to break off now and again. With this is mind, it is still a good place to ride, especially if you know your destination. We had a pleasant time and would have done it many times over if we had the time and the good weather to allow us to. So rent a bike and ride through Toulouse!

From the Seaside of Collioure to the Bridge in Millau

The weekend was expected and planned to be busy, but what better way to start a busy weekend but to spend it near the beach? The beaches we headed to were in Collioure, France, a small, quaint Mediterranean town. It was a cool, sunny Saturday (May 9) that we found ourselves in when we arrived in Collioure. When entering the town we figured parking would be easy to find. It was, at least by following the GPS. The unfortunate part was that we ended up on a slightly inclined hill above Collioure's main sights. But nevertheless once we were out of the car we were taking pictures from our hill position of the castle and the sea which lay below it. We were directly above the sea and could just barely pick out the white sails of a sailboat. We explored the cliffs we were near, walking in either direction. In one direction there were large cement gun batteries extremely similar to those we saw on Normandy beach. I thought they possibly could be German ones, but Ben doubted it. He thought there was no reason for the Germans to come that far south (as Collioure is about 15 miles from the Spanish border). Since it was such a nice day we figured we should walk around a bit, to see what views we could see from our rocky, cliff side. So we found our way down the hill, headed more towards the sea. The path was well worn though we doubted it was technically legal for any of us tourists to walk there. But the views were postcard perfect, to use a logical, pointed cliche. The sea was crystal clear and there was just a slight fog on it. The wind just brushed by you, giving the scene whimsical flair. As we continued on our walk, we found that we were near a former military base, for their training tools (jumps, monkey bars, those low branches to crawl under) were still available to possibly be used. Soon after passing the tools we found a tank just standing by, declaring what used to be there. Besides finding out exactly where we were, there was also some information about Collioure's past posted next to the path. It stated that Collioure used to be a fishing village as well as what sort of fish they caught and what there focus was now. Our time in nature was soon over, for we found ourselves back at the parking lot. It was time to find the middle of town.

The middle of Collioure was bustling with tourists and locals alike, it was also full of many tourist shops and places to eat. One could find themselves a new swimsuit just by peaking into any of the various shops. For it seemed every shop that had clothing of any sort would also have a display of swimming suits. We left the hustle and bustle of the town for the docks. It was a touch quieter there. We basked in the sun, admiring the various sailboats that had found themselves an anchoring point nearby. The Royal Castle was in front of us, looming above the water and the town, seeming to still threaten power and strength. We each thought of what we would do if we could live in such a place as Collioure. Ben declared he have a sailboat and we all could enjoy the water while on the water. I thought it would be nice just to have a home there. Viewing the sea everyday, and having a beach just a few steps away. It all seemed quite nice. Amy thought it would be pleasant as well. After sitting for a time, we decided it was best we got a better look around. So we headed to the castle. Once we entered it, we found that the castle had had many face-lifts due to the many occupants of it. It was first used by the Catalan Lords defending their territory, than it was taken by the Spanish, who added a few elements that the Lords had left out. Then finally the French took over, completely fortifying the castle as to not let it be taken again. When we explored the castle we found it quite worn in places, for there were quite a few tunnels to get from point A to point B. These tunnels were dirt now, I assumed that they might have had stone at one point in history, but I'm sure it had either been taken or lost as the years went by. But as we got further and further into the castle it seemed better taken care of. The inner courtyard was beautiful, still a dirt floor, but strong, aged stone was around us, each building showed its age, but still stood dignified and well kept. The ramparts of the castle were fun to explore. Each side gave a new view, either of the hills nearby or the sea below or the town, bursting full of people. The rooms of the castle were somewhat disappointing, having some rather unusual exhibits. One exhibit was of an artist who must have taken inspiration from Collioure, like so many other artists and the chapel, which I had hoped would have similar furnishings to one of the periods of the castle unfortunately held advertisements for an apartment complex going up nearby. But despite these diminishing features, the castle was worth a peak, if only to imagine yourself as one of its occupants, ruling with a powerful hand. After peaking at the castle, we decided to check out the local church which was perched at the edge of the sea, much like the castle, but closer to the elements. The church was called Notre-Dame des Anges or Our Lady of the Angels, it is rather unusual compared to the other churches one sees while visiting France, for it does not have as many stained glass windows. It can't of course, because it is so close to the sea and other elements, they surely would be lost the minute they were put in. So the church was filled with huge altars, one in each chapel and one at the front. Which was golden and extremely ornate. When we looked at it I could not even pick out every single detail. I'm sure we all missed something important. But, despite the church's brooding, overwhelming atmosphere, it was nice and silent. Seeming away from everything else. We all sat, taking it all in. We had one more thing on our list of things to do in Collioure, and that was to see its 14th century windmill, guarding a hill on the other side of the bay from the church. Walking quickly, we noticed hangings on the various walls we passed. We were on part of the Path of Fauvism, which displays prints from the various artists who were inspired by Collioure's romantic setting. I unfortunately did not see any prints by Matisse, which was the whole reason I even thought of going on the Path. But we had bigger fish to fry and we were upon the next path which lead to the awesome windmill a top of a hill. This path lead through a cactus garden, its cacti growing freely, then we passed what we thought might been a chapel, now neglected. We finally reached the stone windmill after several strides through a grove of trees. It was a fascinating windmill, standing boldly on its hill. But we were tired and headed back down, on the way down we spotted what appeared to be olive trees, not bearing any of its goodness and were safely back to our starting point. Our time in Collioure was short, but worth the visit. It was neat to know one could still find a quaint seaside town to enjoy the sun.

On Sunday, May 10 we headed on what we expected to be a short ride to Millau, a town near Albi. But the GPS had something else in mind. We spent a good 2 hours roaming the beautiful French countryside in search of a marvel of the modern world. Even though it was annoying, it was nice to see the rolling, green hills, Ben and I realized we missed the countryside more than we thought. We stopped once to take a few pictures. We saw no farmers in the fields, but we knew they had been there. For rolls of hay were laying on their sides next to the edge of the respective fields. After we viewed and enjoyed the countryside, we finally came upon the town we were heading for, Millau. It was larger than I had expected, which was good, for we hadn't eaten lunch yet. So we stopped for a bite to eat a a very busy brasserie. Our table was next to a pair of very talkative Germans who recommended to us sights that they thought we best see, including a French Grand Canyon. We just shook our heads, knowing we did not have time for that. After our delicious meal, we headed straight for the bridge. Looking for all the signs we could. We easily found the boutique which laid just under the bridge, a perfect place to take a few pictures, we did, each posing in our turn. The bridge is an amazing feat of wire and concrete, taller than the Eiffel Tower, but built by the same company. It lays magestically on the Tarn river valley. It is so amazing that words cannot describe its beauty and only a picture, as you can see can even capture its futuristic lines and height. Another interesting fact about it is, that it connects southern France and Northern Spain to Paris. We were all glad to see such splendor and importance while in France. After taking our photographs, we headed back home, again through the winding, twisting, beautiful roads that had lead us to our destination.