Autour du Luberon

I just returned from a ten day vacation in France. Most of the trip was spent in Provence; with a few days tagged on the end in Paris. This was not a pack-up-your-bike-and-climb-the-Pyrenees sort of vacation, but rather a sight-see-with-your-family-eat-lots-of-fromage-drink-lots-of-wine vacation.

While staying in Provence, I found a day where I could tell my fellow vacationers were running out of steam for exploring the many wonderful small villages of the Luberon. I seized this opportunity and decided to rent a bike from Cyclix in Cavaillon. My plan was to ride from Cavaillon and follow the Autour du Luberon toward our rental house in Bonnieux, continue toward Apt and then retrace my steps. Being the designated (by my ability to drive a manual transmission well) driver of the trip, I’ve driven a lot of the roads already and felt confident in my ability to not get totally lost. My wife, for good measure and figuring my RoadID would be of little use, wrote a note for me to keep on my person which basically said “my name is Jason, I’m an American, I do not speak french. Please call this number in case of an emergency.”

After setting up my rented Cannondale Synapse and doing something amazingly wrong to the settings on the cyclometer, I was on my way. The Autour du Luberon includes two routes: Flèche Blanche and Flèche Ocre Orangè. From my knowledge of cycling French (or I guess, in this case, just cycling), I know that Flèche means arrow. The white arrows head to Apt, the orange to Lourmarin. The entire loop is 236km; I was planning for 90km. First thing you realize is that the arrows are not consistent at every turn. After a few missteps, I figured the best way to get on course was to just follow the road signs to the next town on the route.

The route started in Cavaillon, which is a more like a small city. It travels through flat, uninteresting roads until you reach glorious French country side.

The first town of note I passed through was Maubec. Some how I entered the town from the wrong side. This only meant that I had to do the cobbled climb in the center of town twice.

Head out of town, you turn down a narrow road and follow the arrows toward Oppède-le-Vieux.

Grapes or Olives?

Roads for bikes

The climb which took me to Oppède was certainly one of the more difficult on the route. My ego would not allow me to make use of the small ring of my triple – opting instead for the poor ratio provided by the middle. The temps were climbing (reaching 28 degree Celsius. Which, is somewhere between 32 and 212 American degrees.) and my steady diet of French fats and alcohol were showing its affect on my ability to go uphill.

Next stop was Mènerbes. I had to employ some cyclocross skills to get around some French machinery.

Traffic Jam

Following the arrows, I briefly lost the plot in Mènerbes and ended up at this vista point (the high peak in the distance is the Giant of Provence – Mt. Ventoux.)

Mt. Ventoux beckons

Riding in the south of France is not entirely different than any other cycling I do. My nods and waves are replaced by Bon Jour‘s and attempts to avoid making offensive hand gestures (I’m curious what the other cyclotourists thought of my Belgie Threshcolors and Lion of Flanders.)

I make my way through Lacoste and to our rental in Bonnieux. Kiss the wife, fill my bottles, eat some pastries and I’m off for some additional K’s before turning around and returning to Cavillion. My plan was hit the Utile in town to grab a coke. My plan was foiled by the French and their sensible work schedules/extended lunch breaks. It wasn’t until I reached Mènerbes again was I able to practice my Je veux être un Coca. The sweet nectar has a quick effect and I’m back to enthusiastically Bon Jouring everyone I see.