Bromptomaniac

In 2021 I cycled the Lot River to its confluence with the Garonne, starting in Conques. This time I’m going upstream — all the way to the source. A warm-up, of sorts, for the Loire adventure ahead.

Day 1 – Prudhomat to Coursavy

Today there was no train to take or plane to catch. I started from the doorstep of our house and pedaled southeast towards the Lot River.
The ride would have been ordinary if not for the fact that I’d barely cycled since last October, and the few rides I did manage were rather short. So when a long and quite steep climb appeared, I struggled. By the time that 15-kilometer stretch came to an end, my legs were spent — and I had only cycled 30 out of 80 planned kilometers. After that, even though the road went mostly downhill, I could barely push myself to pedal. I did push Greengo, my bike, uphill on a few occasions, which felt like a fair compromise between dignity and survival.
In terms of what I saw along the way: a string of small villages, many of them starting with “Saint”, but nothing that particularly stood out. I finished in a hamlet of just a few houses and a campsite. The camping was excellent: right on the river — the Lot, that is — every pitch had electricity and a table, there were chairs to sit and watch the river go by, and hammocks to stretch out in. And it wasn’t too busy.
I’ll see how my legs behave tomorrow, but it should be an easier day — all along the river, no big climbs to worry about.

79 km — distance cycled
85.1 kg — my weight at the start of the trip (fingers crossed that number will drop)
3 — French departments crossed, or rather skimmed, along the way

Day 2 – Coursavy to Saint-Geniez-d’Olt

First night in the tent since last July. Predictably, I had trouble falling asleep — and to add insult to injury, it was colder than expected or wished. Result: a practically sleepless night. Nothing new, and hopefully I’ll find my rhythm in a few days.

I left the campsite around 9:30. It was a nice one, by the way — unusually well-equipped, with tables, chairs, and hammocks at almost every pitch, plus unlimited hot water in the showers.

Riding upstream, the river gradually narrowed until an electric dam widened it into a lake, then it narrowed again beyond. Along the way, several villages carried d’Olt in their name. I initially thought it might be an anagram of Lot — and it turns out it essentially is. Olt is the old Occitan name for the river Lot, which the French gradually transformed into its current form. There was the Château de Calmont d’Olt, belonging to the same family who built the château next to which our house sits. Both chateau were built sometime in XII-XIII centuries.

I passed a couple of villages that are listed among the Most Beautiful Villages of France, and the gorges of the Lot were gorgeous.

As I’d hoped, no major climbing today — or so it seemed until the last dozen kilometers. It was hard going by the end, and it wasn’t my legs that suffered most. My butt took the brunt of it. A few days to settle in, and it should calm down.

Today in numbers:

75 km — distance cycled

1045 — the earliest named member of the de Calmont d’Olt family appears in genealogical records