The “DUE” series is symbolic. It’s an invention, a good excuse, a perfect justification.
It’s the beginning of the longer rides that will mutiply as the summer comes. It’s the time to get the bodies re-acclimatised to riding more than 200kms day after day. To test new kit, new accessories and new bike set-ups in real-world conditions. Essential experimentation before the big events like Born To Ride, the TCR or North Cap 4000 that Matthieu and Sophie have in their Audax agendas.
It’s the time for old friends to reunite and assume their roles – like Gregory – chief joker of the pack. Sophie, a recent recruit to the long distance world, begins the journey in the role of ‘stagaire’, in search of the refinement long distance requires, like the balance between a fully-loaded bike and multiple days with substantial elevation. She’ll finish the ride converted to ‘Ninja’ status.
It’s a great excuse to link the Café du Cycliste hubs, to bring to the foreign posts a bit of our French DNA. After having exported the gallic flair to London last year, it’s time to hit the road to Mallorca.
The wind. More specifically the headwind. It was inevitable. The wind is the biggest joker when it’s in your face. It takes pleasure in doing its best to stop you going in whatever direction you point your wheels.
The continental route plotted from Nice forms a big circular arc to Barcelona where the ferry awaits. The big question from the start was whether the wind would be on our side. Answer : no.
We did our best to avoid and fight the gale force winds predicted by Météo France with pizza stops and chocolate eclairs. Friends from Arles came to lend a wheel to follow to get us to the Camargue. But the wind never stops, even when we reach the bumps and humps that must be overcome to pass through into Spain.
Each evening we find a shelter, a hotel, a bench. And there is always a bar to celebrate another day accomplished and to numb any small pains resulting from the time in the sadldle.
The road passes beneath our wheels, the local customs change, the décor evolves, the language becomes strange and the jokes come thick and fast.
Sunrises blur into sunsets, colours explode, the night is intoxicating and its kilometres are like a suspension. All the ingredients are there and they are an essential to maintain motivation and build memories.
Arriving in Barcelona it is all smiles, especially as we get an escort by Sami Sauri. It marks a new stage in the journey. The long days on the fastest roads and the cycle paths are finished, to be replaced with the small steep byways of The Island. Before boarding the ferry, finding a bar to celebrate the end of the Continental Leg comes as second nature.
From the map of the Island we had decided to disembark at Alcúdia in the north east so we could take the entire length of the north coast, pass over Sa Calobra and link together the smaller seaside Cols on the way to Palma.
At 4am the port is deserted. We take out our bivvies for a few hours extra sleep before breakfast and the attack on the second part of our journey to Café du Cycliste in Palma.
When the Island wakes, we understand better its topography. It’s full of cyclists; they are everywhere. Their preferred style is definitely on the performance side and so our bike-packing set-up and pace stands out like a sore thumb.
We sense a few mocking smiles and a few cyclists completely ignore us. But once the road rises up things change completely. When the hard roads begin we receive the approval of everyone, enquiries on what we are doing and sometimes incomprehension at our ability to climb at their pace whilst fully loaded.
Sa Calobra. The nickname of the Col del Reis is like some sort of exclamation ! Which is appropriate. Everything is bigger. The view is amazing. The hairpins are totally beautiful. The way the road loops itself on the mountainside is, frankly, extravagant. The number of cyclists is almost haunting.
For us that is fine. We’ve ridden the hard days to get to this col and we feel good to be here. We wanted to stay and camp in the cove but it’s a safe haven for tourists. So it’s back up the climb to find a village off the beaten track.
On The Island it’s important to know how to share the space with the other visitors. It would be stupid to think this jewel in the Mediterranean could be kept a secret. You have to divert your attention from the tourist cars and find the places where they are few and far between, where you can instead enjoy the sumtouous curves of the smaller (but perfectly laid) roads. Take the time at lunch to observe, to discover Plan B is quite often a much better option than Plan A. After one day of experimenting we found what we came searching for – a different way of existing and enjoying the road and The Island. Another rhythm.
And so we rolled into Palma at a slower pace. The final sequence was perfect : the rolling coastal route, the flat roads lined with palm trees, the smiles of the tourists and the warm welcome at Café du Cycliste was an ideal ending to this particular 1,000km escapade. The restaurants, the bars, the friendships.
The season has begun.
Footnotes: Photography : Matthieu Lifschitz & Sophie Gateau
