The week started off with a steep ascent into the mountains above Aix-les-Bains, an ascent that I hadn’t imagined we would be foolish enough to try during only our second day of biking. But being assured by everyone that there was no way to reach Lyon without avoiding this mountain pass, we didn’t have much choice. We biked around to the other side of the lake to start the climb up the mountainside. Although I had been happy with myself the day before to have made it up every steep hill, this challenge proved too much for me. I was obliged to push quite a bit of the way, which proved just as strenuous for my arms and shoulders as the biking had been for my legs. I was very proud of Stéphane, however. Although he stopped several times to wait for me, he managed to make it to the top of the mountain without once getting off his bike to push. Many miles later and much the worse for wear, we arrived at the summit of the mountain, where we set up our tent for the night. One good point about being at the top of a mountain is that, even if you have to work very hard to get there, once you succeed, you have a spectacular view. We were content as we watched the setting sun over the lake and the valley below.
As a special treat, Stéphane’s brother Jérôme drove to the site where we had set up camp for the night and brought hamburgers to grill over our campfire. We turned on some music and enjoyed the evening with him and Belou and Julien, Stéphane’s friend and cousin who had planned on biking with us for the first few days of our voyage.
The second good thing about being at the peak of a mountain is that you have nowhere to go but down. Which we did very happily the next morning. Miles and miles of effortless descent down a winding mountain road. I watched the forest trees pass by with an immense pleasure.
The rest of the day was a bit more difficult. We were still in the Alps and had a lot of mountains ahead of us to climb; however, nothing like the day before, so for that, I was very thankful.
We arrived at Stéphane’s father’s that evening, in the town of Bourgoin-Jailleu, where he had a hearty meal waiting for us. After the efforts of the day, it was good to have a hot meal and a cold shower waiting for you.
We spent the rest of the week visiting with his father and finishing the packing and storage of our belongings. Julien and Belou both left during the week. As we watched Belou, who left last, pedal down the street towards the train station, I felt an unexpected surge of sadness. Almost as if it was the last friend we would see for a while…