Day 4 -- St. Emilion to Limeuil

Guess what? My prayer worked!

It poured down rain last night, and I don’t mean just a light rain. It poured! Complete with huge winds and a smatter of thunder and lightning. The wind blew so hard, the huge marquee tent, which stands over 15 feet high came crashing down with pour Lockey sleeping under it. Lockey is a starving student from Australia, tall and very lean with an open friendly smile and wicked sense of humor. He is doing this tour with his best friend Cam, also a rock star cyclist, who showed up last night with his favorite road bike sans a seat. Turns out his bike seat got left in a hotel room somewhere between Australia and France.

After breakfast we got our route map for the day’s ride. I learned two things today: first, if the route map is longer than 2 pages, I’m in trouble, and second, ignore the total mileage noted at the top of the first page and concentrate on the topographic map instead. It is truly a better gauge for how I will feel at the end of the day. Today’s topo has a couple of 150 meter climbs in the first half and ends the day with a steady bell shaped climb to Limeuil.  

Today’s ride is the longest of the tour, 110kms (69 miles.) Lowell and I discuss our options as Isabelle (his bike) is still missing. With a little prodding from the crew, he decides to abandon hope that Isabelle will be found in time to be unpacked and ridden for this tour so he will buy another bike. I am relieved. Andrew, our crew chief and owner of Wide Open Road, drives us to Bergerac to hunt for a new bike. Isabelle, a meticulously maintained sexy black T-Mobile Giant OCR with hot pink details, is replaced by a heavy garish yellow Taiwanese knock-off, its only redeeming features the official “Tour de France” product stickers plastered all over the tubes. No TdF rider would be caught dead in a testosterone-induced joy ride on this bike.

Lowell was not happy. No emotional attachment; it was simply a cheap replacement of two wheels. He doesn’t like the bike, and is undoubtedly insulted that cycling shoes for his size 13 feet have to be custom ordered because evidently French feet don’t grow that large, so he succumbs to using pedal cages and tennis shoes. He told me, in no uncertain terms, he was not riding up l’Alpe d’Huez with tennis shoes on his feet. Selfishly, I’m still relieved I don’t have to ride alone any longer.

We have lunch at Chateau Montbazallic and feast on a spread of local delicacies from the market -- sausage, cheeses, wine and crisp green salad dressed in homemade balsamic vinaigrette and fresh French bread. For those with room for dessert, its apple, strawberry and custard tarts. Chateau Montbazallic is an ancient medieval castle turned vineyard and known for award winning white and red varietals.

Our resting spot today is one of the most beautiful villages in France (we learned there are 24 such villages throughout the country.) The campground is next to the Dordogne river and is a wide-open respite shaded by two large ancient Roman bridges. Several of us opt to sit in the river after the ride to cool off. It was around 90 degrees F today.

Several of us hiked off to town for dinner and members of the crew joined us. We found a small restaurant that Lowell has been to before, which started a tour tradition. Very good with names and faces, Lowell always remembered the shop and restaurant servers from past trips and when he saw the owner of the restaurant, he said “Soivinger moi?” (Remember me?) She did and the two of them struck up a very friendly conversation as if they were lifelong friends.

I opt for a light pizza with jambon et fromage (ham and cheese) and a salad. Wine flows like water, as it is always included with the cost of the meal. We all enjoy our meal, talk about the highlights of the tour and trek back to camp in the pitch-black night.