Home Again, Carrying the Journey With Us
October 30 in the United States
☁️ 16 °C
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[The last post]
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It’s 3:47 Friday morning. Jet lag probably has something to do with that.
I am lying on the couch in the dark, wrapped in a blanket and looking through the window toward our screened porch. The red glow of the LED lights and a single candle on the floor provide just enough light to make everything feel warm and familiar.
After nearly 60 days of moving from place to place, sleeping in unfamiliar beds, and wondering what would be waiting around the next corner, I can feel the comfort of home settling around me.
The end of a long journey always brings mixed emotions. Lisa and I sometimes call it the “vacation blues,” although that does not completely describe it. There is sadness in knowing that the daily adventure has ended, relief in returning to the familiar, and excitement about seeing the people we missed. There is also the strange feeling that part of us is still somewhere out there, pedaling down a quiet road in Portugal, climbing a mountain in Spain, sharing a meal in France, or laughing with friends in Belgium.
In a few hours, Lisa will wake up and the sun will rise. I know we will walk around the neighborhood and inspect our yard, looking closely at nearly every plant. We will check the garden, notice what changed while we were away, and slowly absorb the feeling of being home. We are excited to see old friends and especially to spend time with Sebastian again.
Home was already welcoming us back. Randy and Sally had placed a wonderful “Welcome Home Jim & Lisa” sign in the yard, and Sebastian had left fresh flowers on our dining room table. Our friend Pat had also come over the night before to charge the Honda’s dead battery, then returned the next morning to make sure it started.
As Lisa put it, “Wow! We really are loved.”
That may be the best description of coming home.
During conversations with our Warmshowers hosts, people often asked what Iowa City is like and what we love about living there. It never took them long to understand how deeply we care about our home, our friends, our family, and our community. We value living in a place that emphasizes friendship, education, openness, kindness, acceptance, and taking care of one another. Those values feel even more important after traveling through places where public spaces are shared, bicycles are treated as transportation, and most people seem willing to allow others to live their lives with respect and dignity.
We came home hopeful, although also a little uneasy about the direction of our country. Travel continually reminds us that most people want many of the same basic things: safety, healthcare, education, security, meaningful relationships, and the freedom to live without fear. Most people we met were not focused on greed, power, or accumulating more and more. They were interested in sharing a meal, telling a story, listening to ours, and making sure we felt welcome.
When I asked Lisa which single moment best represented the journey, she could not choose one. Every day brought something new: changing scenery, difficult climbs, unfamiliar faces, old friends, animals staring at us from fields, and people along the road whose eyes met ours for a moment before we exchanged an illuminating smile.
That may be the answer. The journey was not one great moment. It was thousands of small ones.
For Lisa, some of the happiest and most present moments came in the mountains, beside the ocean blowholes, and during the unconventional sections of our route. Those were often the roads I worried might make her cry. Instead, she saw them as gifts. She felt that I had chosen them because I understood her adventurous spirit and knew they would excite her.
There were quieter gifts too. Sometimes Lisa would come out of the shower to find that I had opened a bottle of wine and poured a glass for her. It was a small gesture, repeated several times during the trip, that made her feel especially loved.
For me, the happiest moments often came in the countryside, especially in the mountains. There is something meditative about finding the rhythm of the pedals, feeling the cool air on your face, and allowing the road to pull you forward. Cycling requires enough attention that your mind cannot wander too far. You have to find the route, stay hydrated and fed, watch the road, and keep yourself and the person you love safe. As Lisa described it, there simply is not room to think about much else.
That sense of presence is one of the things we already miss most.
We also miss the changing scenery, meeting new people, and beginning each day with two very important questions: What is around the next corner and what are we going to eat?
Nearly 60 days together also reminded us how fortunate we are to genuinely enjoy each other’s company. We joked that we were probably never more than 100 yards apart during the entire trip. Even at the airport, when Lisa suggested that I use the restroom while she waited with the oversized luggage, I said we should just go together.
“Oh, you miss me already?” she asked.
We planned routes and meals together, repeated silly phrases until they became part of our private language, and found quiet places where we could sit, look at the scenery, laugh, and simply enjoy being together.
Lisa said she feels grateful that she had the patience to wait for someone with whom she wants to spend her entire life. She appreciates how our different characteristics fit together: my planning and concern for safety, our shared love of friends, and especially our sense of adventure. To her, every road, reunion, accommodation, and unexpected turn felt like a small gift and another date that she could cherish.
Jos once told us that what we have together is rare and special. We do not necessarily think of ourselves that way, although perhaps these posts allowed our friends to see something that we experience every day.
Kindness became another continuing theme of the journey.
There was the wrong turn down a private-looking lane in that could easily have ended with someone yelling at us. Instead, it ended with coffee, conversation, and stories shared beside a beautiful little pond.
There was the woman near the top of a mountain who made sandwiches for us when there was no other food available. We could not communicate very well, yet kindness did not require a shared language.
There were hosts who prepared special dishes, showed us their neighborhoods, shared stories from their own travels, and listened carefully to ours. There were evenings without televisions or phones competing for attention. The phones came out only when someone wanted to share a photograph. The rest of the time was simply people talking, laughing, listening, and being together.
We already miss Aude in the Pyrenees, Feyyaz and Arielle in Charleville-Mézières, and the many new friends who welcomed us along the way. We miss Jos running to the bakery for special treats and traveling to another town to bring home the best fish soup I have ever eaten. We miss Peter and Kristein and the warmth of B&B Molmento.
Lisa especially remembers the pride, generosity, and thoughtfulness Kristein puts into breakfast. It feels as though she puts part of herself into every detail of the meal and the entire Molmento experience. It is more than a place to sleep. It feels like returning to family.
Saying goodbye to people like these was the most emotionally difficult part of the trip for Lisa. Every reunion eventually required another departure.
The most physically difficult part for her may have been carrying our bicycle boxes through airports and train stations. Those boxes became heavier with every hallway, elevator, platform, and curb. I would probably agree. We were happier climbing mountains on bicycles than wrestling 23.7-kilogram (52.2-pound) cardboard boxes through an airport.
For me, the most difficult riding day was probably the long, gray, flat ride from Saint-Dizier to Varennes-en-Argonne. We faced a persistent headwind, and I was dealing with what felt like a mild cold or an allergic reaction to our previous apartment. We were incredibly fortunate with the weather during the entire journey. Had we experienced days of heavy rain, the trip would have been much harder.
There are parts of touring we are happy to leave behind. Lisa will not miss wearing dirty clothes or waking during the night with legs so achy that they threatened to buckle when she tried to stand. We will both appreciate sleeping in the same bed for more than one night, knowing what the pillow will feel like, and not carrying that small daily concern about whether we will make it to our next destination.
Returning home creates its own kind of culture shock. When I open the closet, I wonder why I own so many clothes after living for two months with only what fit on a bicycle. At the grocery store, I find myself thinking about what we will need for the entire week. On tour, we rarely planned food beyond the next day or day and a half.
Lisa recognizes that comfortable things can be nice, although she no longer feels that we need so many of them. People cared for us even when we were dirty, tired, and probably did not smell particularly good. What mattered was having an open mind, love, compassion, and sometimes a few words in another language that could make someone smile.
The trip also reinforced how comfortable and respectful cycling can feel in other parts of the world. Over 2,552 miles, we experienced only one angry honk, and that one may have been partially my fault. We did not encounter walkers or dog owners angrily telling us that we did not belong on a trail. Most people simply shared the available space and respected one another’s right to be there.
That is not a complicated political philosophy. It is a belief that communities work best when people recognize that the world belongs to all of us, not only to whoever has the largest vehicle, the most money, or the loudest voice.
Lisa returned from the journey wanting to slow down and genuinely offer more of herself to other people. Travel teaches us to accept discomfort, allow ourselves to be vulnerable, try another language even when we might get it wrong, and remain open to possibilities we could never plan. That vulnerability often makes other people more comfortable too, creating opportunities for conversations, friendships, and unexpected acts of generosity.
Books, television, and photographs can teach us about places. They cannot completely recreate the feeling of standing there, uncertain and exposed, and discovering that a stranger wants to help.
Photographs also fall short. They cannot capture the scale of a mountain, the depth of a valley, or the feeling of light moving across a landscape. Our stories cannot fully reproduce the warmth of a smile, the sincerity of someone’s welcome, or the joy of realizing that a new friendship has just begun.
We still feel compelled to try.
Our friend Doug became part of the adventure in a particularly meaningful way. He drove us from Iowa City to Chicago at the beginning of the trip and returned nearly two months later to bring us home, something he has now done for several of our journeys.
When Doug arrived to take us to the airport, Lisa felt that unmistakable sense of, “It’s time.” Months of planning were suddenly becoming reality. His genuine excitement made it feel as though he was part of the adventure too.
He continued to be part of it by following our FindPenguins posts each morning. When we returned, he remembered details such as the fishing and the Hemingway statue and asked thoughtful questions about what we had experienced. He even joked that he would need to find a new morning routine now that there would no longer be a new post waiting for him.
When he met us at O’Hare, Lisa could see both pride in what we had accomplished and perhaps a little relief that we had returned safely. Driving friends and their enormous bicycle boxes between Iowa City and Chicago is no small favor, yet Doug never makes a production out of helping. He has a gentle way of making people feel seen and heard, often through a simple comment, a book, something he has learned, a hug, or a smile. He keeps it simple and never asks for anything in return.
His friendship provides a bridge between home and adventure, and his support helps make these journeys possible.
We are also grateful to everyone who traveled with us in less visible ways. Thank you to the people who shared advice and stories before we left, followed our FindPenguins posts, left comments, worried about us, encouraged us, hosted us, fed us, guided us, smiled as we passed, or simply wondered where we might be that day.
Lisa said that even though our friends and readers were not physically beside us, she carried them in her heart and mind. When she felt afraid, she remembered stories people had shared, and those stories gave her courage. When she felt excited, she imagined telling someone about the experience or wondered whether they had once done something similar.
Travel is one of the best investments we can make in ourselves. It develops curiosity, patience, humility, trust, and compassion in ways that are difficult to measure. The memories continue working inside us long after the trip has ended.
That is also why we believe people should not wait too long to take the journey they have been dreaming about. Traveling earlier gives you more years to remember it, more time to let it influence you, and perhaps enough energy to climb the hill, carry the bicycle, explore the ruined tower, test the playground slide, or take the strange road just to see where it leads.
Plan the next adventure. Go see the world. Try the language. Accept the invitation. Sit down for the coffee. Take the wrong turn occasionally.
You will probably discover that most people want to be seen, heard, accepted, and treated with kindness. They want to share their stories and hear yours. They want friendship, security, love, and a safe place for the people they care about.
Now it is after 3:47 in the morning. Home is quiet, and the next adventure feels far away. Soon the sun will rise, Lisa will wake up, and we will walk through our neighborhood together. We will see friends, spend time with Sebastian, inspect every plant in the yard, prepare our bicycles for whatever comes next, and gradually settle back into our lives.
We are sad that the journey is over and grateful that it happened.
We carried everything we needed on our bicycles.
We returned home carrying much more.Read more
By the Numbers: 59 Days & 2,552 Miles.
October 30 in Belgium
☀️ 14 °C
Before we write our final post about what this journey meant to us, we thought we would reduce nearly two months of bicycle travel to a collection of numbers. Some were carefully recorded, some are reasonable estimates, and others came from a highly questionable roadside accounting system.
The Big Numbers:
- 59 days in Europe
- 52 riding days
- 7 complete rest days (some did not feel like rest as we were traveling or walking a lot)
- 2,552 miles ridden
- 179,191 ft of climbing
That climbing equals almost 34 vertical miles, or roughly six trips from sea level to the summit of Mount Everest.
We averaged 49.1 miles per riding day, with an average of 3,446 feet of climbing. Overall, we climbed about 70 feet for every mile we traveled.
My spreadsheet predicted 180,105 feet of climbing. The final number was only 914 feet lower, meaning the prediction was off by about 1.5%.
My mileage prediction of 2,537 was also remarkably close to our final total of 2,552 miles. Only 0.59% off the mark! Apparently, spending weeks studying maps and spreadsheets occasionally pays off.
The Long and Short of It
Our longest and biggest climbing day was the ride from Lisbon to Caldas da Rainha:
- 70.58 miles
- 6,791 feet of climbing
Our shortest riding day was only 2.65 miles. That was the day we rented a car in Pau, drove approximately six and a half hours to Niort, returned the car, and then rode to our Warmshowers hosts.
Even a car-transfer day apparently required a little bicycling.
Four Countries by Bicycle
Portugal: 593.69 miles, 57,117 feet of climbing, 14 overnights
Spain: 754.66 miles, 59,516 feet of climbing, 16 overnights
France: 1,004.71 miles, 53,100 feet of climbing, 19 overnights
Belgium: 198.79 miles, 5,758 feet of climbing, 7 overnights
That gave us four countries traveled by bicycle and three international borders crossed on two wheels.
The United States makes five countries involved in the journey. Denmark makes six if changing planes in Copenhagen earns us another flag.
Planes, Trains, Automobiles, Shuttles, and Tiny Ferries
2 international air journeys
4 individual flights
2 Copenhagen airport transfers
3 car legs: Iowa City to Chicago, Pau to Niort, and Chicago back to Iowa City
1 train journey: Mol to Brussels Airport, using two trains
2 Brussels airport shuttles
2 tiny hand-operated ferries, which we pulled across the water using a chain while bringing our bicycles along
Keeping the Bicycles Alive
4 flat tires
I had three flats. Two were caused by rose thorns, and one came from a wood screw.
Lisa had one flat caused by a small piece of metal.
We also had:
1 broken rear derailleur cable
0 other significant bicycle repairs
0 riding crashes
1 bicycle-box crash, when the boxes fell from the luggage cart at Brussels Airport after hitting a crack while trying to get to the hotel shuttle.
After 2,552 miles, our only crash involved stationary bicycles sealed inside cardboard boxes.
Beds, Hosts, and Friends
41 nights in hotels, apartments, Airbnbs, and bed-and-breakfasts
14 Warmshowers stays or nights
5 nights with friends or hosts
6 old friends revisited
2 Warmshowers reunions: Aude, and Feyyaz and Arielle
We also made new friends through every Warmshowers visit, along with cyclists and other people we met along the road.
Some of the best encounters could never have been scheduled, especially the wrong turn in Soulaines-Dhuys that led us to Jean-Claude and Emmanuel, coffee beside their pond, stories shared through a translation app, a postcard, homemade honey, and a couple of big hugs.
Walking Around Europe (tracked by Lisa’s Garmin watch)
Total steps: 410,0075
Estimated miles walked: 182 miles
Most steps in one day: 16,411
We also took well over 1,000 photographs and created more than 55 FindPenguins posts.
How We Fueled the Journey
These figures are less precise, although extensive research was conducted:
About 30 baguettes
Bottles of wine sampled: still under investigation, although probably a few too many to remember accurately
About 20 cheeses
About 18 Belgian beers
About 14 bowls or baskets of fries
About 15 or 16 homemade meals shared with hosts
About 10 grocery-store dinners
About 10 restaurant dinners
4 kebabs (we are admitting)
Approximately 30 small laundry loads
We did not eat as many fries, cheeses, or kebabs as originally planned. This may be the trip’s greatest statistical failure.
The Highly Unofficial Numbers
321 churches photographed
14 war memorials photographed or visited
About 5 castles properly explored
About 57 tractors photographed for Nathan
1,327 dogs that barked at us
3 dogs that chased us
6 or 7 playgrounds tested
12 times we said, “It’s going to burn off!”
11½ times it actually burned off
1 wrong turn that led to something truly wonderful
The number of donkeys and small horses spotted remains under investigation.
We attempted somewhere between five and eight languages, depending on whether pointing, smiling, and holding up a phone translator qualify as speaking.
The numbers measure the length, height, and occasional absurdity of the journey. They cannot measure the kindness we received, the friendships renewed, the meals shared, or how often an ordinary day turned into something we will remember for the rest of our lives.Read more
Bike Boxes, Black Licorice, and Home at Last
October 29 in the United States
☀️ 20 °C
Day 59: Diegem, Belgium → Iowa City, Iowa
This was it, our final day of travel.
We woke around 5:30 a.m. and caught the 6:45 shuttle from our hotel to Brussels Airport. Everything went surprisingly smoothly. Both bicycle boxes weighed exactly 23.7 kilograms (52.2 pounds), which was just over the stated limit, although no one seemed concerned. Check-in was faster than usual, and the man who weighed our boxes had done some bicycle touring himself. It is always reassuring when the person handling your bicycles understands what is inside those enormous cardboard boxes.
We wheeled them to the oversized-baggage area, where another exceptionally friendly employee helped us send them on their way. One thing we have noticed at airports outside the United States is how much less yelling there seems to be from security personnel. The calmer atmosphere removes a surprising amount of stress from the process.
Security went smoothly, although I was pulled aside so they could swab my palms and shoes, presumably for traces of explosives or drugs. I had used the hotel’s automatic shoe buffer on my tennis shoes the night before, so I briefly wondered what mysterious chemicals might now be detected. Yikes! Fortunately, my shoes and I were cleared for travel.
The flight from Brussels to Copenhagen was so smooth and uneventful that I barely remember it. We spent some time walking around the Copenhagen airport, and I bought a little salty black licorice, a traditional Danish treat. We also nibbled on snacks that had been traveling in our panniers for weeks and ate some of the homemade bread we still had from B&B Molmento.
Then came the usual commotion of loading a huge airplane for the nearly nine-hour flight to Chicago. I am still amazed by how many people cough and sneeze in crowded lines without covering their mouths. Did we learn nothing from COVID?
In keeping with tradition, I was seated directly in front of a five- or six-year-old boy who spent much of the flight pushing his feet into the back of my seat and tapping enthusiastically on his entertainment screen. At one point, he and his mother were playing a game together and pushing hard enough that I finally turned around and politely asked them to stop. Someone nearby also had possibly the worst body odor I have ever encountered. Together, these provided perfect preparation for nine hours in a confined metal tube.
Lisa and I tried to stand up and walk around every hour and a half. We watched a few movies, although I do not think I slept at all. My jet-lag research suggested staying awake until we reached home, sleeping through the night, and getting plenty of sunshine the following day. It sounded like an excellent plan at the time.
Everything with SAS went smoothly, as did immigration and customs in Chicago. We even arrived ahead of schedule, and our oversized bicycle boxes appeared remarkably quickly.
Doug was still about an hour from O’Hare when we landed, which gave us time to clear customs, remove the bicycles from their boxes, reassemble them, and fold the cardboard for recycling. By the time he arrived, everything was ready to load into the car. It may have been our smoothest international arrival yet.
Having a friend like Doug is something we never take for granted. He drove us to Chicago at the beginning of the trip, returned to pick us up nearly two months later, and has done the same for several of our other adventures. An airport run between Iowa City and Chicago is not a small favor. It is a long drive, made even longer by traffic and two tired travelers with bicycles and piles of luggage. His generosity allows our adventures to begin and end with the comfort of seeing a good friend.
Traffic was heavy around O’Hare, although it gradually improved as we approached Iowa. I intended to stay awake for the entire 3¼-hour drive home. I made it about two hours before falling asleep. Somehow, as usually happens, I woke just as we were nearing home. Perhaps the body simply knows.
When we pulled into the driveway, a wonderful sign from Randy and Sally was waiting in the yard:
Welcome Home Jim & Lisa!
Our touring bicycles stood beside it under the red glow of the porch lights. After nearly two months and 2,552 miles, they were home too.
We wandered through the house for a while, looking at familiar things through the haze of exhaustion and jet lag. Everything felt exactly the same and slightly unfamiliar at the same time. We were too tired to absorb it fully, although it was comforting simply to be there.
By about 10:30 p.m., we were in our own bed. Tomorrow would bring groceries, voting, unpacking, catching up with friends, finishing our FindPenguins posts, and beginning the slow process of adjusting to ordinary life again.
For tonight, it was enough to be home.Read more
Molmento, 💗, and a Farewell to Mol
October 28 in Belgium
🌙 10 °C
Day 58: Mol → Diegem (Train and staging day)
We had a wonderful night of sleep at B&B Molmento and decided to enjoy a late breakfast at 9:00. In Molmento fashion, Peter and Kristein did absolutely spoiled us.
The table was filled with homemade bread, cheese from Postel Abbey, special meats, fresh fruit, muesli, homemade yogurt and jams, orange juice, coffee, and scrambled eggs from their own chickens served with bacon. Peter had also made homemade speculoos, the traditional Belgian caramelized biscuit flavored with cinnamon and other warm spices.
There was enough bread, meat, and cheese to make sandwiches for later, which would become our lunch on the train from Mol to Brussels Airport.
We sat around the table talking with Kristein for another hour or two. Conversation with Peter and Kristein always comes easily, and the time always feels too short. Every visit reminds us how fortunate we were to meet them and how much their friendship has come to mean to us. There are some people that enrich your life simply by being themselves. The map says we’re worlds apart, and the clock says we don’t talk every single day, yet somehow, we feel as close as the porch light across the street.
Eventually, the bicycle boxes could no longer be ignored. We finished organizing and weighing everything, with each box coming in at around 23 kilograms (51 pounds). We cleaned up our room, made sure nothing had been left behind, and then took a short walk to visit Marleen and Theo.
We first met Marleen and Theo in 2017 when they entered a restaurant with a group that needed a larger table. Lisa and I gave up our table near the fireplace so they could sit together, and Theo then helped us understand the menu.
That small act began another friendship.
Theo later came to watch me race at the Cyclocross Masters World Championships. During another visit, he helped carry our giant bicycle boxes in his car to the train station. Unfortunately, Theo was not home this time, although we enjoyed a short visit with Marleen and were happy to see her again.
After walking back to Molmento, it was time to begin the complicated process of moving two people, two giant bicycle boxes, and the rest of our luggage to the station.
Peter carefully loaded one bicycle box at a time into his small Citroën C3 and made separate trips to the Mol train station. It was quite a sight watching each enormous cardboard box slide flat into such a small car. Somehow, Peter made it work.
From Mol, we had a smooth train ride and transfer to Brussels Airport. We ate the sandwiches we had prepared at breakfast and watched the Belgian countryside pass outside the windows. The autumn colors were still changing, and bicycles seemed to be everywhere. At many intersections and stations, they were lined up against fences and guardrails, another reminder of how naturally bicycles fit into daily life here.
I also caught myself looking for tractors through the window simply out of habit. Sorry, Nathan. No tractor pictures today.
When we reached Brussels Airport, we learned that our hotel shuttle would not arrive for nearly two hours. We tried to use the public buses, but after locating the correct stops and maneuvering our boxes into position, the drivers declined to take us with our oversized luggage.
Waiting for the shuttle became our only realistic option.
Fortunately, the temperature was pleasant. As the sun began to set, we could look across Brussels and even see the Atomium in the distance. It was not the airport transfer we had imagined, although it was difficult to complain too much about one final Belgian sunset.
Once the shuttle delivered us to the Thon Hotel in Diegem, we began searching for a suitable final meal. After a 25-minute walk and a stop at Lidl for breakfast supplies and extra tape for the bicycle boxes, we found the perfect little pizza restaurant.
We had been craving pizza for several days, so the decision was easy. Then Lisa noticed that the restaurant also served Belgian fries. How could we possibly spend our last night in Belgium without ordering one more basket?
Pizza and Belgian fries made an excellent combination. We topped it all off with a Tripel Karmeliet, which was the first Belgian beer we tasted during our first visit to Brussels nearly ten years ago. It seemed like the perfect beer to complete the circle.
We returned to the hotel with full stomachs, reinforced bicycle boxes, and everything staged for our morning departure. The airport shuttle will collect us at about 6:35 a.m.
It is always difficult to leave Mol. The first time we said goodbye, we were not certain whether we would ever return. Each visit brings that same question. Is this the last time?
We truly hope it is not.
Peter, Kristein, Jos, Marleen, Theo, and our other friends in Mol have made this town feel like much more than another stop on our travels. They have become part of our Belgian family. Every visit feels too short, and every goodbye leaves us wishing we had allowed ourselves just a little more time.
We hope there will be another return to Mol, and next time, we hope to stay longer.Read more
Bells, Bikes, and a Song Above Mol
October 27 in Belgium
☁️ 18 °C
Day 57: Exploring Mol (28 miles / 330 ft. of climbing)
This was one of our so-called rest days, although “preparation day” would probably be more accurate. Our plans were to visit the Tuesday market in Mol, find a few souvenirs for friends at home, enjoy one final ride, and eventually make our way to B&B Molmento to pack the bicycles for tomorrow’s train ride toward the airport.
Peter had already picked up two bicycle boxes from a local bike shop. Knowing the boxes were waiting for us was a tremendous relief. Finding suitable boxes at the end of a trip can become an adventure of its own, and this was one scramble we were happy to avoid.
At about 8:30, we joined Jos for a wonderful Belgian breakfast of meats, cheeses, bakery treats, orange juice, coffee, and pistolets. A pistolet is a small, round Belgian bread roll with a crisp crust and a light, airy center. We also had Greek yogurt with blueberries and Belgian cassonade, a soft brown sugar with a rich caramel flavor. Unlike typical American brown sugar, which is usually white sugar mixed with molasses, Belgian varieties may be made with candy syrup or caramelized sugar.
During dinner the previous evening, Jos had told us about visiting the tower of the Sint-Pieter en Pauwelkerk in the center of Mol. High inside the tower is a carillon, an enormous musical instrument played through a keyboard connected to bells. Jos knows people at the tourism office and also knows Jasper Depraetere, Mol’s young municipal carillonneur. A few phone calls later, we had an invitation to meet Jasper at the tower entrance at 10:40.
Jasper proudly led Jos, Lisa, and me through the tower museum and up the narrow stairs toward the top. The 55-meter (180-foot) tower contains five floors of exhibits related to the church, tower, and carillon. We saw old rooms, historical relics, and the secure place where important documents and valuables belonging to Mol were once stored.
At the top, we stepped outside for a beautiful view across Mol and the surrounding Belgian countryside. We then met the real star of the tower, a carillon of 49 bells weighing more than 16,500 kilograms (36,400 pounds).
A carillon is played from a wooden keyboard using the hands and feet. The performer presses large wooden batons with loosely closed fists while using pedals to control the heavier bells. It requires strength, timing, and a surprising amount of physical coordination. Watching Jasper play made it clear that this was not simply ringing bells. It was playing the entire tower as a musical instrument.
Jasper became only the third person to hold this position in Mol. He studied carillon and music education at LUCA School of Arts in Leuven and now teaches at the Royal Carillon School in Mechelen, where students come from Belgium and around the world.
He asked whether there was a particular song we would like to hear. After thinking for a moment, we chose the Irish folk song “Down by the Salley Gardens.” The song holds several memories for us. Monica and Simon’s daughter, Liesl sang it a cappella at our wedding two years ago, and during last year’s journey through Japan, a Japanese couple played it for us at their guesthouse.
Jasper played it once while we stood beside him in the tower. Before we descended, he told us to find a quiet place near the market and listen for it again.
Back on the ground, Jos led us to a peaceful spot with a clear view of the tower. A few moments later, the bells began carrying our song across Mol. Standing below the tower with Lisa and Jos, listening to a song that has followed us through our wedding, Japan, and now Belgium, was incredibly special.
From there, we walked through the Tuesday market. The air smelled of sausages and other foods cooking, and the square was filled with colorful stands and shoppers. We did plenty of looking and smelling, although not much actual shopping. In fact, we bought nothing. We did run into Jos’s sister, which gave us another nice and unexpected meeting.
Our next stop was Jos’s shoe shop. He always creates a special display in the front window, and naturally we had to stop for a picture among the shoes, pumpkins, straw bales, and his “Swedish Clog Street” sign.
Earlier that morning, we had looked at the Wilfried Peeters cycling route around Mol. Peeters, a Mol native, raced professionally from 1986 through 2001 and became known as a specialist in the cobbled classics. He won Gent-Wevelgem, finished second and third at Paris-Roubaix, and later became a longtime team director.
Jos created a 77-kilometer (48-mile) route in his honor, divided into loops of 47 kilometers (29 miles) and 30 kilometers (19 miles). With bike packing still ahead of us, the 30-kilometer (19-mile) loop sounded perfect.
The route gave us one more chance to enjoy the area around Mol. We rode past a mixture of Belgian homes, followed the canal, visited a beautiful windmill, and enjoyed the changing autumn leaves. After stopping to purchase a special beer to bring home, we added a short detour to Zilvermeer.
Zilvermeer holds its own memories for us because it was where I raced years ago. We sat beside the water and ate the sandwich Jos prepared for us. Then we explored the park, and even tested some of the impressive playground slides. Apparently, a final rest-day ride still requires a little playground research.
From Zilvermeer, we continued to B&B Molmento where Peter and Kristein were waiting for us. It was a homecoming we were anxious about but also cherishing. After a few hugs and stories, the moment we had been avoiding finally arrived. We removed the pedals, turned the handlebars, carefully arranged the bags, and packed the bicycles into their boxes. After nearly two months of carrying us across Europe, our bikes were officially finished with their journey.
By the time everything was packed and we had relaxed for a little while, it was nearly 7:00 and time for dinner with Jos, Peter, and Kristein.
For our final dinner together, we could not resist Vlaams stoofvlees met frieten, Flemish beef stew slowly cooked with Belgian beer and served with fries. The bowl of frieten seemed to be bottomless, which was perfectly fine with us. We enjoyed the meal, the friendly waiter, and the restaurant owner, who treated us to a couple of drinks on the house.
Dessert was a beautiful chocolate mousse for Lisa and me. Afterward, we took the short walk through the cool night air back to B&B Molmento with Peter and Kristein. A wonderful night we didn’t want to end.
Our preparation day somehow became much more than packing and errands. It gave us one final bicycle ride, a tower full of bells, our song floating across Mol, time with people who have become family, and another collection of memories we never could have planned ourselves.Read more
TravelerGreat trip, Great people, Great days full of adventures... more then 54 days long..... Br@vo Lisa and Jim..... Tot wederzien... jos
The Final Miles to Our Friends in Mol.
October 26 in Belgium
☁️ 13 °C
Day 56: Oude-Heverlee → Mol (49 miles / 750 ft. of climbing)
There can be something distracting about knowing it is the last full riding day of a tour. Part of your mind starts looking backward (or forward) before the day is even finished. This day still deserved our full attention.
After today, we have another day in Mol and then a half day before taking the train to Diegem near the airport, but this was our final long ride from one destination to another. We woke with mixed feelings, grateful for everything behind us and excited about the friends waiting ahead.
We enjoyed a nice breakfast with Lieven. Hanne had already left for work in Brussels on her new e-bike. Before we departed, Lieven helped reorganize the first half of our route. My original plan would have kept us close to a busy highway, and his local knowledge gave us a much more enjoyable way into Leuven.
As we approached the city, the paths filled with cyclists and walkers. Leuven’s large university population gives it a youthful energy, and bicycles seemed to flow in every direction. We were not going to rush through our final riding day, so we stopped to admire the architecture, take pictures, and enjoy the busy city atmosphere.
Once again, we were lucky to have a tailwind. We passed changing leaves, canals, farms, and quiet stretches of countryside as we made our way north toward Mol.
Throughout the ride, we kept joking about all the possible “lasts.”
“That might be the last donkey we see.”
“Maybe this is the last tractor picture for Nathan.”
“Could this be our last gravel section?”
You never really know which one will be the last until it is already behind you.
It is hard to think back to the beginning of this journey in Portugal, when the days were hot and the landscape looked completely different. Pintxos in Spain, the Camino, and of course the big climbs in the Pyrenees. Those early miles now seem like part of another trip. We are glad we kept this record on FindPenguins. We will enjoy looking back through the stories, sorting through the photographs, and choosing our favorite moments from the journey.
As we approached Mol, everything became more and more familiar. We rode through town, passed Jos’s shoe shop, and continued along roads we remembered toward Sluis Mol. With every mile, it felt less like we were arriving at another destination and more like we were returning home. “I wonder if Peter road this” became even more funny as we got closer.
Naturally, we stopped at one of our favorite places, Café ’t Voske, which roughly translates as “The Little Fox.” We discovered this cozy café during our first visit to Mol, and it is exactly our kind of place. We ordered a couple of Belgian beers and a platter of cheese, salami, pickled onions, pickles, and mustard.
Then we received a wonderful surprise. Kristein walked into the café. She and her husband, Peter, own the B&B Momento, where we will be staying tomorrow night. We have known them for nearly ten years, and they have become dear friends.
Kristein and Lisa always joke before our visits about how much we are looking forward to the reunion hugs from them. When she appeared, we finally got that long-awaited hug and enjoyed catching up for a while. Some friendships begin with a simple reservation or chance meeting and gradually become something much closer to family.
Eventually, it was time to continue to Jos’s house.
Our friendship with Jos began during our 2017 visit to Mol, when we came here for me to race the Cyclocross Masters World Championships. We noticed some cycling decorations in the window of his shoe shop and decided to walk inside.
Jos thought he recognized Lisa from a photograph he had taken at the Tour of California. The woman in the picture was not Lisa after all, but the mistaken identity started a conversation. Before long, we were drinking espresso and talking about cycling. A short time later, Jos was standing in the pit with Lisa during my cyclocross race.
That serendipitous visit to a shoe shop began a friendship that has lasted nearly ten years.
Jos has attended more than 50 road cycling world championships and is well known throughout the cycling world. He knows professional riders, race officials, and many of the people working behind the scenes. His friendships with Greg LeMond and the late Minnesota motocross champion Donny Schmit were especially meaningful to him. This year, he even spent some of the final laps of the World Championships in the lead car.
None of that is something Jos boasts about. He is simply kind, humble, generous, and always willing to help. It is fun to spot him in the background of a cycling photograph or catch a quick glimpse of him on television, quietly standing near the center of the action.
After we received a warm welcome at Jos’s house, we cleaned up and enjoyed what may have been the best fish soup I have ever tasted. Later, we went out for a pasta dinner before returning to the house for more stories and conversation.
With the time change and darkness arriving so early, we were all tired. By about 10:00, we headed to bed.
Our final full riding day did not feel entirely like an ending. The changing leaves, bustling streets of Leuven, bicycle traffic, canals, and countryside slowly gave way to familiar roads. Those roads led us to big hugs and friends who have become more like family.
Mol was not simply the end of today’s route. It felt like coming home.Read more
Cyclocross Touring Before the CX Race
October 25 in Belgium
☀️ 13 °C
Day 55: Wemmel to Overijse to Oude-Heverlee (28 miles / 1,600 ft.)
Today we headed toward one of the major destinations of our trip, the cyclocross race in Overijse.
I fell in love with cyclocross many years ago after stumbling across it while channel surfing. The sport developed in Europe during the early 1900s as a way for road cyclists to train through the winter. Riders race across grass, mud, sand, steep hills, cobbles, and barriers that sometimes require them to jump off and carry their bicycles. Belgium has turned it into something close to a national winter sport, with thousands of spectators gathering in cold, wet weather to eat frites, drink beer, and cheer for their favorite racers.
We planned to leave Luc and Manou’s house around 10:00 for the 18-mile ride through Brussels to Overijse. Less than a third of a mile from their house, I picked up a screw and had a flat tire. It wasn’t an ideal beginning, but we quickly changed the tube and were back on our way.
Even on a Sunday, navigating through Brussels felt a little like a cyclocross race. After riding through the heart of the city and past the monumental arches of Cinquantenaire Park, our route became increasingly adventurous. We entered the forest on rough trails, carried our loaded bicycles over trees knocked down during the recent windstorm, followed a little singletrack, and eventually bounced down a slick cobbled road toward Overijse.
We laughed about how appropriate it was to ride our own little cyclocross course on the way to watch a real one. The miles clicked away more slowly than expected, but we reached the race about when we had planned, just in time to watch the junior women finish.
Our first priority was some traditional Belgian cyclocross food: frites and a beer. Then we wandered around the course, scouting different hills, turns, and obstacles where we might watch the elite races. Conditions were nearly perfect for cyclocross, with slightly slick ground, chilly wind, and occasional sunshine breaking through the clouds.
We were lucky enough to run into Belgian racer Laurens Sweeck, whom we had met previously in the United States. We had also met his mother, and we happened to see her at the race as well. It was especially nice that they remembered us. We snapped a few more photographs with some of our favorite racers and spent the afternoon enjoying the action and atmosphere.
Around 4:30, we left the race and began the ride to our final Warmshowers hosts in Oude-Heverlee. After about an hour of pedaling, we arrived at the home of Hanne and Lieven.
We were their first guests through Warmshowers, and they gave us a wonderful welcome. They had recently purchased a large old Belgian farmhouse and were excited about their plans to renovate it. Lisa and I enjoyed hot showers before joining them in the family room for snacks, cold drinks, and conversation.
We shared stories about our travels and some of the unusual places we have stayed along the way. Then we moved to the dining room for one of the best meals of our entire trip: Belgian beef stew with frites. Known here as stoofvlees, it was rich, tender, comforting, and absolutely delicious. Lisa and I immediately began discussing how we could make it part of our Christmas tradition at home.
Dessert was vanilla ice cream topped with melted dark chocolate. Simple and perfect.
With the clocks changing overnight and everyone feeling tired, we headed to bed earlier than usual. Hanne would be leaving around 7:30 the next morning to commute to her job in Brussels on her new e-bike.
A flat tire, downed trees, singletrack, slick cobbles, Belgian frites, professional cyclocross, and another warm welcome from people we had never met before. It would be difficult to design a more perfect Belgian day.Read more
A Broken Cable, a Lost Paradise, and Good Friends
October 24 in Belgium
☁️ 12 °C
Day 54: Rest Day in Wemmel
We had a wonderfully slow morning, staying in our private little loft until nearly 10:00. It felt good not to pack our bags, rush through breakfast, or worry about reaching another destination. We enjoyed a casual breakfast and more good conversation with Luc and Manou.
Before beginning our adventure for the day, I decided to take care of a little bicycle maintenance. Just as I shifted Lisa’s right lever to work on her chain, the shifting cable broke. If it had to happen, this was the perfect place. I had a spare cable, and with Luc’s help and access to all the proper tools, we had everything repaired surprisingly quickly. Better in the garage on a rest day than somewhere along the road!
Around noon, we headed to the Botanic Garden Meise. With more wind and rain in the forecast, it was an ideal destination. We could explore the enormous outdoor gardens when the weather cooperated and escape into the greenhouses and other buildings whenever the rain returned.
We enjoyed lunch together at a restaurant in the middle of the garden and then continued exploring. The grounds cover two former castle estates, with Bouchout Castle sitting beautifully beside the water and autumn colors filling the surrounding landscape.
One of the highlights was the Plant Palace, a massive complex of 15 connected greenhouses covering nearly an acre. Walking through it felt like traveling around the world as we moved from tropical rainforest to desert, savanna, Mediterranean, mangrove, and misty cloud-forest climates. Each doorway seemed to transport us somewhere completely different.
We also visited the special exhibition “Paradise Lost?” about Alphonse Balat, the Belgian architect known for combining glass, iron, light, and plants. Balat served as architect to King Leopold II, designed the famous Royal Greenhouses of Laeken, and helped inspire the work of Victor Horta. His historic glasshouse at Meise was one of his earliest major projects and helped shape the spectacular conservatories that followed.
We stayed at the gardens until nearly closing time, then made a quick stop at a Proxy grocery store for Belgian chocolates and a few Belgian beers to sample. We returned home around 6:30, relaxed for a while, and then enjoyed another wonderful dinner together, this time spaghetti Bolognese.
Dinner ended with our own little Belgian chocolate tasting. We also listened to some of Manou’s music. She has sung with a gospel group for about four years and had a recording session scheduled for the following day.
It was an absolutely perfect and relaxing rest day, made even better by the company. Conversation with Luc and Manou always feels natural, interesting, and easy. I told Lisa that if Luc lived closer to Iowa City, I’m certain he would be a regular member of our coffee group. We would gladly see both of them much more often if only an ocean didn’t separate us.
Some friendships begin in unexpected ways. Ours began with a free walking tour of Brussels nine years ago, and we are very grateful it never ended.Read more
Racing the Storm to Brussels
October 23 in Belgium
🌧 10 °C
Day 53: Namur to Wemmel (53 miles / 3,100 ft.)
The forecast called for rain and winds approaching 50 mph, so we set the alarm for 7:00 and were rolling by 7:45. Morning traffic hissed across the wet pavement while low clouds whipped through the still-dark sky. The howling wind gave everything the ominous feeling of a major storm approaching.
The race was on. We bundled up against the chilly air, but a long climb out of Namur quickly had us warming up. Fortunately, the wind was mostly at our backs. A light rain was falling but quickly cleared up and the sun occasionally tried to break through the clouds, giving us a beautiful sunrise over our right shoulders.
There was a feeling of urgency all morning. Most of our pictures were taken while riding or during quick nature breaks. We wanted to reach Brussels, navigate the city, and arrive at Luc and Manou’s home in Wemmel before the serious wind and rain arrived.
The miles were clicking off quickly, especially when the tailwind pushed us along at nearly 20 mph. Whenever the route turned, however, the crosswind reminded us how powerful the storm was becoming and occasionally threatened to blow us off the road.
Fortunately, Belgium has an impressive cycling network. Nearly every road seemed to have either a bicycle lane or a separate path, including some beautiful trails covered with autumn leaves. Even Brussels was surprisingly easy to navigate by bicycle, and we made our way through the city without too much confusion or stress.
About two miles from our destination, we spotted the giant silver spheres of the Atomium. We couldn’t resist navigating over for a few celebratory photographs. Built for the 1958 Brussels World’s Fair, the Atomium represents an iron crystal magnified billions of times.
Brussels has always been the symbolic endpoint of this tour, so standing beneath the Atomium felt like a major moment. We still have two more riding days, one to watch the cyclocross race in Overijse and another to Mol to visit friends we first met in 2017, but we had successfully ridden from Lisbon to Brussels!
Luc is also part of our 2017 story. Before our first trip to Europe, I discovered a wonderful program called Brussels Greeters. Visitors complete a survey describing what they would like to see, and local volunteers who love their city can choose to lead them on a free personal tour.
Luc selected our request and spent about four hours showing us Brussels on our very first day in Belgium. A volunteer tour guide became a friend, and nine years later, we were now racing a storm to reach his home.
We arrived around 12:15 after making only a few quick stops and eating nothing more than a few pieces of candy. We had covered 53 loaded miles and climbed 3,100 feet in just four and a half hours, including navigating Brussels and stopping at the Atomium. We had beaten the storm, and we were both pretty proud of what we had accomplished especially when the rain started to fall shortly after our arrival.
Luc and Manou welcomed us warmly. We secured the bicycles in their shed and showered while Manou finished her trip to the grocery store. When she returned, we sat down together and warmed ourselves with piping-hot bowls of fresh vegetable soup. That was followed by fresh tomatoes, mozzarella, charcuterie, and baguette.
We ate, talked, caught up on each other’s lives, and looked out over their beautiful garden while hearing about their projects around the house. After coffee, Lisa and I disappeared for a long and much-needed nap.
By evening, the wind and rain outside had become treacherous. At times it was genuinely frightening as the storm rattled the house and shook the surrounding trees. Listening to it from the warmth and safety of their home made us realize just how close we had cut it. We kept talking about how lucky and relieved we were to have pushed hard and arrived before the worst of it.
For dinner, Manou prepared a classic Belgian comfort dish called chicons au gratin. Endives were wrapped in ham, covered with a creamy white sauce and melted cheese, then baked in the oven and served with mashed potatoes. It was exactly the right meal for a wild autumn night.
As usual, the conversation carried us late into the evening. Suddenly it was nearly 11:00, and we all agreed it was time for bed. Tomorrow is a rest day, giving us more time together and a chance to explore a little of their home area, visit a few parks, and continue the conversation.Read more
Saxophones, Citadels, and Cyclocross Weather
October 22 in Belgium
☀️ 13 °C
Day 52: Givet, France to Namur, Belgium (43 miles / 1,250 ft.)
As we approached Belgium, it seemed only appropriate that we were also approaching some serious cyclocross weather. The forecast called for chilly temperatures, drizzle, and strengthening winds. We wanted an early start and hoped to reach Namur before the weather became too unpleasant.
The morning didn’t look quite as threatening as expected, so we spent a little time circling through Givet and taking a final look at the town. Only about three miles of France remained before we crossed into Belgium.
The change was almost immediate. French stone and stucco gave way to the red and brown brick homes so common in Belgium, many with steep slate roofs, decorative brickwork, large windows, and carefully maintained gardens, roads, and cycle paths. It was subtle, but we could tell we had entered another country.
Most of today’s route followed the Meuse River on Belgium’s RAVeL bicycle network. The Meuse is a natural river, but locks and dams have made it navigable for commercial boats, so long sections feel almost like a canal. For centuries, it has served as an important transportation and industrial corridor connecting France, Belgium, and the Netherlands. For us, it provided a beautiful, mostly flat path north through the narrow valley.
We were especially excited to return to Dinant, which we had visited during our 2018 tour. That time we approached from the north during spring. Today we arrived from the south, surrounded by changing autumn leaves. We remembered the massive cliffs rising beside the river and the impressive homes along the water, but we still couldn’t resist stopping for more photographs.
The grand houses and villas along this stretch reflect the prosperity the Meuse brought through trade, industry, and tourism. Many were built during the 19th and early 20th centuries, when wealthy families wanted homes overlooking the river and its dramatic cliffs.
Dinant is squeezed into an impossibly narrow space between the Meuse and a towering wall of rock. Its onion-domed church sits beneath the citadel, making one of the most recognizable scenes in Belgium. The city is also the birthplace of Adolphe Sax, inventor of the saxophone. The colorful saxophones lining the Charles de Gaulle Bridge honor him and help explain why the instrument appears everywhere around town. We stopped for a few pictures, including a recreation of one we had taken in 2018.
From Dinant, we continued north beside the Meuse toward Namur. The valley remained beautiful, with cliffs, fall colors, large riverside homes, small villages, and boats moving quietly along the water.
Upon reaching Namur, we headed directly for its massive citadel, sitting high above the meeting point of the Meuse and Sambre rivers. We rode the steep cobbled climbs and explored the pathways overlooking the city. The effort was worth it for the sweeping views, although by then it was nearly 2:30 and we still hadn’t eaten lunch.
We searched for a comfortable place out of the wind, but while meandering through one of my little sightseeing routes, we realized we were less than a mile from our lodging. We checked in and finally ate our chicken-and-rice sandwich in the warmth of the apartment.
After some rest, we prepared to walk around the city. Just as we were ready to leave around 5:00, the rain began, so we waited another half hour. It was still drizzling when we ventured out, but we enjoyed a nice tour through the old center, visited a few historic buildings, found some quiet little pubs for sampling Belgian beers (thanks Guthardt for the recommendations!) , and finished the evening with pizza.
Tomorrow could be interesting. We have received several weather warnings, with some parks closing because of expected winds approaching 50 mph and serious rain arriving during the afternoon. Our plan is to leave around sunrise, or perhaps a little before, and ride approximately 55 miles to Luc and Manou’s home in Wemmel. The route will also require us to navigate Brussels.
We hope to arrive before 1:00 p.m. and beat the worst of the storm. If the morning weather is already miserable, our apartment is conveniently located directly across from the train station. For once, we have a Plan B waiting right outside the door.Read more
Eight Cheeses and 300 Meters of Belgium 🇧🇪
October 21 in France
☁️ 10 °C
Day 51: Charleville-Mézières to Givet, France (57 miles / 1,700 ft.)
We had perhaps the most comfortable night’s sleep of our entire trip at Feyyaz and Arielle’s home. Perfect beds, perfect temperature, and wonderful hospitality. There is something comforting about reconnecting with old friends.
We woke to a beautiful breakfast featuring Turkish coffee, as Feyyaz is Turkish, soft-boiled eggs served in little egg cups, warm croissants, and toasted baguettes. I even had a little more success using the special tool to cut the tops off our eggs! We dipped buttered toast sprinkled with smoked salt and pepper into the soft yolks. Delicious!
One new discovery was toasted baguette with honey, goat cheese, and black pepper. What a perfect combination! Although croissants are practically a symbol of France, their ancestor, the kipferl, came from Austria. The crescent-shaped pastry eventually made its way to France, where French bakers transformed it into the buttery, flaky croissant we know today. Another little cultural lesson over breakfast!
Before leaving, we drove to the local fromagerie, or cheese shop. We selected two special cheeses, one made with sheep’s milk and the other with cow’s milk, and Arielle generously bought us a little wheel of goat cheese.
Today also marked a couple of important milestones. First, this is officially my longest (duriation) bicycle tour ever, surpassing the 50-day, 3,500-mile ride across the United States that Pat and I completed in 1991. Second, we set a new personal record for the amount of cheese carried on a bicycle tour: EIGHT different cheeses! Well, make that seven. One didn’t survive the journey and had developed some rather suspicious mold. For the record books, we also managed to ride nearly two hours before our first bathroom break. Quite a day for personal achievements!
We packed our bags and rolled out around 10:15, heading north toward Givet. The forecast wasn’t encouraging, with temperatures around 49°F and drizzle turning into steady rain. Great weather for Belgian cyclocross, but not quite as enjoyable when touring with loaded bicycles!
We chose the shorter route, following much of the beautiful Meuse River along the Voie Verte Trans-Ardennes, a former railway and riverside cycling route winding through the Ardennes. The river twisted through steep, forested hills, passing little villages, old stone houses, and churches tucked into the valley. Even in the rain, the autumn colors were beautiful. We enjoyed the smell of fallen leaves and wood smoke drifting from fireplaces as people warmed their homes.
As we approached Givet, the weather improved just enough to tempt us away from the river. We climbed into the hills to a wooden observation tower overlooking the Meuse Valley and the limestone countryside known as the Calestienne. It was a rocky little detour, but the views made it worthwhile. We even crossed into Belgium for about 300 meters before returning to France. We’re not counting that as officially leaving France just yet!
Givet is an interesting little border town, nearly surrounded by Belgium, with the Meuse River flowing directly through its center. Towering above the town is the impressive Fort de Charlemont, a fortress begun in the 1550s under Emperor Charles V. Its strategic position made Givet an important military stronghold for centuries, and the fortifications were later strengthened under Louis XIV’s famous military engineer, Vauban.
We followed one of my little self-designed sightseeing loops through Givet, admiring the churches, old streets, and fortress high above the river. Getting around was a little chaotic because the main bridge was under construction, disrupting the normal traffic patterns.
Since we were already wet, we decided to get our grocery shopping done before checking into our apartment. We stopped at NETTO and loaded up with a rotisserie chicken, microwave rice, a sweet potato, and a bag of salad. Then, around 3:30, we finally settled into our beautiful, clean apartment and enjoyed one of the best dinners we’ve made on this trip, or maybe on any bicycle trip!
Now we’re winding down, catching up on FindPenguins, and preparing to tackle our rather impressive cheese collection. Perhaps a little chocolate to finish the evening.
Tomorrow we head to Namur, Belgium. We stayed there with a Warmshowers host back in 2018, but unfortunately they’re busy this time, so we’ve booked an apartment. We’re looking forward to returning to a familiar city and finally making our official departure from France!Read more
Eight Years Later
October 20 in France
🌧 12 °C
Day 50: Varennes-en-Argonne to Charleville-Mézières (60 miles / 3,000 ft.)
After a good night’s sleep, we woke to a beautiful sunrise behind the church outside our hotel window. Breakfast in the room was our usual bread, honey, yogurt, and muesli. Unfortunately, there was no kettle, so our instant coffee was made with water from the hot tap. Not exactly café quality!
As I carried our bags downstairs, Madeleine greeted me and offered Lisa and me a proper cup of coffee. We joined her for a nice conversation before leaving. Originally from Belgium, she dreams of visiting the United States someday, especially New York and Texas, where she hopes to try line dancing.
We were a little anxious about the day. Sixty miles separated us from Feyyaz and Arielle in Charleville-Mézières, and the weather forecast did not look promising. They had been our second Warmshowers hosts ever when we stayed with them in 2018. We still remembered their warm welcome, a warm, welcoming hug, the slow-roasted chicken, and the four-minute soft-boiled egg at breakfast. It came with a special little tool for opening the shell, which I somehow used to explode the egg across their beautiful white tablecloth. Eight years later, we were finally going back!
The weather turned out better than expected. We rode through rolling green countryside filled with farms, cows, and beautiful views, with mostly just a light drizzle. The cows seemed nearly as curious about us as the people we passed. They would stop chewing and stare, apparently wondering what two brightly dressed Americans were doing pedaling through their fields.
World War I memorials continued to appear along our route, reminders that this peaceful countryside was once part of a devastating battlefield. Eventually, we joined the Voie Verte Sud-Ardennes, a 110-kilometer greenway following waterways and quiet countryside across the southern Ardennes. Near Pont-à-Bar, it connected with the canal trail and gave us miles of smooth, nearly traffic-free riding beside the Canal des Ardennes and toward the Meuse.
We stopped for a picnic in the drizzle, watching an unusually excited group of cows crowd around while a farmer delivered their lunch. Apparently, food creates the same enthusiasm in French cows as it does in touring cyclists.
Once in the city, we meandered past a few sights and through a park where enormous murals had been painted across stacked shipping containers. Charleville and Mézières were once separate towns before being joined in 1966. The older Mézières grew as a fortified medieval settlement, while Charleville was founded in the early 1600s and became known for its elegant Place Ducale.
Before heading to our hosts, we found a quiet little pub tucked down an alleyway and celebrated making it through the day with a cold drink.
Feyyaz and Arielle greeted us as warmly as they had eight years earlier. We started with tea and cookies, followed by hot showers and clean laundry. Then came an apéritif of champagne and crackers before dinner. The main dish was a wonderfully creamy combination of potatoes, cheese, and ham that we will definitely be getting the recipe for, accompanied by a fresh lettuce salad.
Dessert was a delicious crumble made with mirabelles, the small, sweet golden plums grown throughout northeastern France. They are sometimes grown in the United States, but fresh mirabelles are much harder to find.
We spent the evening sharing stories and looking at photographs of Feyyaz’s beautiful carpentry work. He is retired now, like me, but keeps busy helping people modify furniture and creating his own woodworking masterpieces. Dinner ended with a small glass of homemade alcohol dating from 1980.
Once again, the only problem was that the time together felt far too short. Fortunately, we still had breakfast and a quick visit to the cheese shop planned for the morning. Eight years had passed, but the warmth of the welcome had not changed at all.Read more
Gray Roads and Heavy History
October 19 in France
☁️ 14 °C
Day 49: Saint-Dizier to Varennes-en-Argonne (62 miles / 3150 ft.)
There are days that feel like work. For me, parts of today certainly did, although we were still enjoying the balance of riding and adventuring.
I had a rough night in what seemed like an extremely dusty apartment. I took allergy medicine, wrapped my down jacket around the pillow, and slept inside my sleeping bag. The morning brought more gray skies, chilly temperatures, and a 7 to 11 mph headwind. Even the pavement seemed to be holding onto our tires, and the road felt like one long gradual climb.
Still, we pushed on through quiet villages, forests, and farmland. We stopped to photograph old churches, something that somehow never gets old, and visited the haunting ruins of Trois-Fontaines Abbey. Founded in 1118, it was the first daughter abbey of Clairvaux and once housed a large Cistercian community. Today, its roofless stone walls rise among the trees like something from another world.
As we continued into the Argonne, the history became heavier. This forested region saw years of brutal fighting during World War I and became the site of the massive Meuse-Argonne Offensive in 1918. We stopped at the solemn Aux Morts de l’Argonne memorial, surrounded by autumn trees and gray skies that seemed appropriate for the setting.
In Varennes-en-Argonne, the Pennsylvania State Memorial honors Pennsylvania troops who fought in France and helped liberate the town in 1918. Built in 1927, it stands above the Aire Valley as another reminder of the strong connection between this quiet corner of France and the United States.
Varennes is also famous for a completely different moment in French history. In June 1791, King Louis XVI, Marie Antoinette, and their family fled Paris in disguise, hoping to reach loyal royalist forces near Montmédy. The king was recognized after stopping in Sainte-Ménehould, and word was sent ahead. The royal carriage was stopped in Varennes, and the family was returned to Paris. The failed escape destroyed much of the remaining trust in the monarchy and helped set the stage for Louis XVI’s execution in 1793.
Our hotel, Le Grand Monarque, was already operating as a post station at the time. Supporters of the king waited there for the royal family, but the carriage was stopped only about 200 meters away. Had they reached the hotel and their waiting escorts, French history might have unfolded very differently.
When we arrived, the hotel owner, Alexandre, greeted us with genuine excitement. He helped carry our belongings upstairs and was clearly very proud of the historic hotel he and his wife operate. His warm welcome immediately made us feel at home.
After settling in and warming ourselves with hot showers, we ventured to Carrefour Express for supplies and then found a kebab and fast-food shop near the hotel. The owner was excited to prepare our dinner and took great pride in presenting the food to us. Cheeseburgers, french fries, and a couple of Belgian beers were exactly what our cold and hungry bodies needed.
While eating, we had a sweet interaction with four young French teenagers who were curious about where we came from and what we were doing. They practiced their English, we used our translator when needed, and somehow the conversation worked. It is those small, unexpected connections that make a trip like this so special.
Tomorrow brings something else special. We will reunite with Feyyaz and Arielle, Warmshowers hosts we first stayed with in 2018, in Charleville-Mézières. After a gray and difficult day, that gives us plenty to look forward to.Read more
A Perfect Wrong Turn!
October 18 in France
🌧 10 °C
Day 48: Bar-sur-Aube to Saint-Dizier (45 miles / 1,700 ft.)
We were up around 7:30, knowing it would be a chilly morning with rain forecast for later in the day. Our plan was to request an early check-in in Saint-Dizier and hopefully beat the 3:00 rain.
Dark skies and heavy gray clouds looked ominous when we rolled out around 9:00. It was about 42 degrees, so we bundled up with shoe covers, stocking caps under our helmets, and rain jackets to block the cold wind.
What we had not done was look at the route profile. Almost immediately, we began climbing about 600 feet and were soon sweating beneath all those carefully selected layers. We climbed into the low clouds and damp air, then stopped on the plateau to strip some of everything back off. The first ten miles became a routine of putting on clothes, removing clothes, and trying to decide what season it was.
One of our favorite weather predictions is, “It’s going to burn off!” As we settled into a rhythm, the sky actually began looking a little more promising.
The rolling hills, farms, and herds of cattle reminded us a bit of Wisconsin. Then we reached Soulaines-Dhuys, one of those towns I had marked on the map with “Explore!” We wandered past the church, community gardens, little waterways, and narrow lanes.
Then I spotted a beautiful tractor. I have been photographing tractors for Blake’s friend Nathan in Indiana, so I stopped to take a picture while Lisa rode ahead and turned down the wrong lane. When she saw two men sitting behind a beautiful house covered in vines turning red for autumn, she sheepishly said, “Désolée” (“Sorry”). I think that was what made them laugh.
They said something in French, and we explained that we spoke very little French, which led to more laughter and our usual mixture of gestures, scattered words, and translation apps.
Their names were Jean-Claude and Emmanuel. They invited us behind the house to see their little pond and then asked if we would like coffee. We were supposedly in a hurry to beat the rain, but some invitations are too good to refuse.
Jean-Claude is an automobile designer and operates an Airbnb from the property. Emmanuel is a dairy farmer who owns more than forty tractors. He and Nathan would probably become immediate friends!
The conversation eventually drifted toward politics when they asked about our president. Despite the language barrier, we found plenty of common ground. The world seems to have more than enough craziness, while friendship, kindness, and peaceful country living make considerably more sense.
Wrong turns do not always end this well. Instead of being told we were trespassing, we were invited in for coffee and conversation. As we prepared to leave, Jean-Claude gave us a postcard from his Airbnb as a souvenir. Then he ran back inside and returned with a large jar of his homemade honey.
There was nothing left to do but give them both enormous hugs and say, “Merci beaucoup! Au revoir!” What an unexpected gift from a wrong turn down a little lane in France.
We continued north through farmland and forests toward Lac du Der-Chantecoq, another enormous reservoir built to regulate the Marne River and help protect communities downstream from flooding. A multisport event was underway, with people running, mountain biking, and canoeing.
Naturally, we stopped to explore. The Church of Champaubert stands alone beside the reservoir, preserved when the surrounding village was cleared during the lake’s construction. With the clouds darkening, I kept joking that we were playing with fire, or more accurately, playing with rain.
While sightseeing in another town, we finally felt the first drops. We were about eight miles from Saint-Dizier, so it was time to hightail it. We followed the canal through light drizzle, pushing against an 8 mph headwind and a steady 1 percent uphill grade.
We reached our apartment at 2:05, a little damp but safely ahead of the heavier drizzle. It was still drizzling when we ventured out around 5:00 for a short walk and dinner supplies.
Saint-Dizier sits along the Marne River and has a long history of metalworking and iron foundries. The reports of unrest in Paris sounded chaotic, but out here among the farms and smaller towns, it all felt very far away and had no effect on our travels.
Dinner was leftover pasta carried from last night, a fresh baguette, and a canelé, the small fluted pastry made famous in Bordeaux. This one was not quite as wonderful as our first, but it still satisfied the sweet tooth.
The laundry is finished, tomorrow’s weather looks better, and we are relaxing in our cozy apartment before an early night.
Tomorrow will also be a big day for our friend Blake, whom we hosted through Warmshowers two years ago. He will finish his journey from the northernmost point of Japan to the southernmost point. We are sure he must have mixed feelings about completing such an incredible adventure and returning home to Indiana.
Blake’s Instagram:
https://www.instagram.com/desolation.pedals?cpl…
Blake’s YouTube channel:
https://youtube.com/@desolation.pedals?si=CkkDy…Read more
Headwinds, Lac d’Orient, and fancy desserts!
October 17 in France
⛅ 13 °C
Day 47: Troyes to Bar-sur-Aube (50 miles / 1365 ft.)
We were on the road a little after 9:00, beginning with a short roll through Troyes before following the canal out of the city. The morning was chilly, with an 11 mph headwind from the north. Occasionally the sun broke through the gray fall clouds and gave us a little warmth.
We made a brief stop at a Saturday market and grabbed a fresh apple before continuing toward Lac d’Orient. The lake is part of the Grands Lacs de Champagne, a system of large artificial reservoirs created to regulate the Seine and Aube rivers and reduce flooding downstream toward Paris. The water appeared very low, possibly because the reservoirs are gradually lowered during the year to make room for winter rain.
The headwind eventually climbed to nearly 18 mph, but luckily our winding route through the Forêt d’Orient would not leave us riding directly into it all day. Later turns brought some relief and even the feeling of a tailwind.
It was simply a nice day of autumn riding. We enjoyed the changing leaves and talked about how much the countryside smelled like Iowa. There was freshly turned soil in the fields and wood smoke in the air, probably from people heating their homes for the first time this fall.
We stopped for lunch beside Lac Amance at Dienville. When planning the route months ago, I had marked the beach with the hopeful note “swim?” Standing there bundled in our cold-weather clothing, with the wind blowing across the low water, that suggestion seemed pretty funny.
From Dienville, we followed the Aube River valley toward Bar-sur-Aube. I designed one of my usual little tours through town, following the water, looking at the half-timbered houses, and conveniently guiding us past Carrefour Express for pasta supplies.
After settling into our room and cleaning up, I waxed the bicycle chains while Lisa prepared dinner. We headed out to follow the small bronze triangles embedded in the streets. After enjoying the Templar route in Troyes, we couldn’t resist following Bar-sur-Aube’s three-kilometer heritage walk at sunset. The markers led us past old houses, churches, waterways, and reminders of the town’s medieval past. Bar-sur-Aube was once an important stop during the famous Champagne trade fairs, although today it feels much quieter, with quite a few empty storefronts.
Of course, the route also took us past a beautiful boulangerie-pâtisserie. We were unable to resist, so we bought one sweet for dessert tonight and another for tomorrow. We were very proud of our restraint.
Tomorrow should be a shorter day of about 45 miles, but the forecast calls for temperatures in the low 40s, another headwind, and rain later in the day. Hopefully, we can beat the rain!Read more
Troyes, France
October 16 in France
⛅ 21 °C
Rest Day! Let the photos speak to our fabulous walking tour of the medieval Troyes.
Troyes, the historic capital of Champagne, is famous for its colorful half-timbered houses, narrow medieval streets, beautiful stained glass, and numerous old churches. Its city center is even shaped like a champagne cork! Once an important center for medieval trade fairs, Troyes is also closely connected to the history of the Knights Templar.
https://www.instagram.com/reel/Dej692moPGo/?xto…Read more
Fog, Vineyards, and Unexpected Cheering
October 15 in France
⛅ 21 °C
Day 45: Auxerre to Troyes (63 miles / 3,100 ft.)
Another beautiful morning! Fog had settled into the Yonne River valley, so we spent about thirty minutes riding around Auxerre and admiring its enormous cathedral and church towers rising through the mist. As the fog lifted from the river and sunshine began breaking through, the entire city felt a little mystical.
We climbed out of the valley and could look back at Auxerre slowly disappearing beneath the clouds. We were now pedaling toward a well-deserved rest day in Troyes.
The riding through the countryside was magnificent, with warm sunshine and long, gradual climbs into the Chablis wine country. Chablis is part of northern Burgundy and is famous for white wine made from Chardonnay grapes. The region’s limestone-rich soil helps give the wine its crisp, dry, mineral character.
We passed vineyards, large wine-production facilities, and several châteaux. Farmers were busy replacing fence posts, tying vines, and preparing the fields for next year’s harvest. Beyond the grapes, this is also farming country, with wheat, barley, and rapeseed among the common crops.
In Ervy-le-Châtel, we had another one of those “What are the odds?” moments. A short pilgrimage path climbed about 200 meters over steep grass and gravel toward the massive church at the top of the hill. At the exact moment we turned onto it, a group of about twenty teenagers on a field trip did the same.
They kindly stepped aside and cheered as we rode the loaded bikes up the hill. We made it to within about ten meters of the top, where three steps finally forced us to stop and lift the bikes over. At the top, one boy told me in English, “You are so good at that.” As we left, the entire group shouted every English farewell they knew. “Goodbye!” “Have a good day!” It was a wonderful little encounter.
We found a boulangerie-pâtisserie and bought a chicken and hard-boiled egg sandwich on a baguette. Naturally, we also needed dessert. I chose a chocolate éclair filled with chocolate cream, while Lisa went with a pain au chocolat.
About three miles later, we found the perfect picnic table in the quiet village of Chamblin. The park was surrounded by London plane trees, the tall trees commonly planted in perfectly straight rows along French roads, canals, and village squares. Their broad canopies provide wonderful shade, and their mottled bark makes them easy to recognize.
From there, it was more smooth riding all the way into Troyes. Our loft apartment had an incredible view of the Cathédrale Saint-Pierre-et-Saint-Paul. Construction of the cathedral stretched across roughly four centuries, but only one of its two planned towers was ever completed.
Before checking in, we made a video call to Yuki in Japan to wish her a happy birthday and show her some of Troyes. After resting for a while, we took a long evening stroll among the city’s colorful half-timbered houses and narrow streets.
We eventually found a pizza place beside the river and settled in for pizza, a few drinks, and finally a taste of the crisp, dry Chablis from the vineyards we had ridden through earlier. Then it was back to our loft for a homemade cheese board and a relaxing evening looking out over the cathedral.
Tomorrow, we rest!
https://www.instagram.com/reel/DejZBozNJA6/?srt…Read more
2,000 Miles, Two Dog Chases, and a Farmyard Escape
October 14 in France
🌙 16 °C
Day 44: Gien to Auxerre (66 miles / 3,550 ft.)
We enjoyed breakfast in our own little house in Gien, with toast, yogurt, muesli, and coffee. We were on the road around 9 a.m., greeted by a beautiful sunrise over the Loire River. Unlike yesterday’s relatively flat ride, today we would be heading into the hills, with nearly 3,500 feet of climbing.
The countryside was beautiful, with rolling hills, small villages, and plenty of churches to photograph. The clouds made for some dramatic pictures, especially against the old stone buildings.
Near Saint-Firmin-sur-Loire, we came across the impressive Pont-Canal de Briare, a bridge that actually carries a canal over the Loire River! Completed in 1896, this remarkable engineering project stretches more than 600 meters across the river. It’s quite a sight, especially when you consider that boats travel across it instead of cars.
Then, in Briare, a minor miracle occurred. We found an open post office and finally mailed our postcards! Apparently, it is possible to buy international stamps in France after all.
We continued through the countryside, stopping occasionally for pictures of churches and interesting buildings. In Saint-Fargeau, we came across an enormous château with a fascinating mix of medieval and Renaissance architecture. Parts of the castle date back to the 10th century, and its impressive red-brick walls and towers are quite a sight. Unfortunately, we couldn’t get inside, but that didn’t bother us. We often enjoy these magnificent buildings just as much from the outside.
By the time we reached Mézilles, we were ready for lunch and on the lookout for a French boulangerie. We found a wonderful little bakery and picked up a premade sandwich and a sweet treat for dessert to share. Even better, we found a quiet, secluded spot for a picnic.
Then things got interesting.
One of my creative routes took us down a gravel road that gradually became narrower and narrower. Eventually, we crossed a creek and somehow ended up in the middle of a private farmyard. The gates were closed, chickens were running around, and two large barking dogs were making it very clear that we weren’t welcome. Lisa was particularly concerned that a farmer might appear and release the dogs on us.
Fortunately, no farmer appeared, and Lisa managed to find an escape route through the farmyard and directly on route. We got ourselves and the bicycles out without becoming dog food.
I should mention that this was our SECOND dog encounter of the day. Earlier, two large dogs had chased us down the road. Luckily, I was armed with my trusty water bottle and managed to deliver two direct shots to the face, one for each dog. Both finally decided we weren’t worth the trouble.
In Toucy, near the church, we reached another milestone: 2,000 miles since leaving Lisbon! Naturally, we had to stop for our traditional mileage photograph, using our hands to make the numbers while carefully positioning Lisa’s camera. After several attempts, we got the shot.
From there, we continued north through more rolling farmland and little villages, including one with a rather interesting name. I’ll let the photograph tell that story.
Finally, we rolled into Auxerre, and what a beautiful town! Situated along the Yonne River, Auxerre has a wonderful historic center filled with half-timbered houses, narrow streets, and impressive churches. We settled into our apartment right in the center of town and took a short walk to explore.
This is also Burgundy wine country, with the famous vineyards of Chablis just to the northeast. The region is especially known for its dry white wines made from Chardonnay grapes, although our evening was more about food and relaxation than wine tasting.
Dinner was simple and perfect after a long day: premade lasagna, salad, and, of course, a cheeseboard and a few other snacks. Afterward, we wandered through the old town again, taking pictures of the beautiful buildings illuminated at night.
Then it was early to bed. Another adventure awaits tomorrow!Read more
No Stamps, No Hills, No Problem
October 13 in France
☁️ 18 °C
Day 43: Orléans to Gien (57 miles / 910 ft.)
We slept in and enjoyed a simple breakfast in our Airbnb: coffee, our favorite little premade waffles with honey, rice pudding, and the last of the lemon cake Angélique had sent with us. Then came the morning workout of maneuvering two bicycles down three flights of stairs.
Before leaving Orléans, we wrote a few postcards. France may be the easiest country in the world in which to buy a postcard and the hardest place to find an international stamp. We tried several towns and multiple businesses displaying the postal symbol, but no luck. Lisa even stood in line at what she thought was a post office before realizing it might have been a bank. At this rate, we may beat the postcards home and have to hand-deliver them ourselves.
This would be our flattest riding day of the tour as we followed the Loire upstream toward Gien. Enormous clouds filled the sky, looking magnificent and vaguely threatening, while a 10 mph tailwind pushed us along at nearly 19 mph.
We stopped at a large sandbar and wandered along the river looking for glass and other little treasures, finding one small piece of green river glass. Later, as we crossed toward Châteauneuf-sur-Loire, rain was falling behind us and downriver to our left, while our route to the right looked clear. We chose optimism but took shelter beneath the umbrellas of a café that also sold lottery tickets and displayed a postal symbol while, naturally, selling no international stamps. Coffee and a croissant seemed like fair rent for our dry seats.
About thirty minutes later the rain let up, and we continued through small Loire villages, stopping for churches, châteaux, and anything else that caught our attention.
In Germigny-des-Prés, we stopped at a tiny church built in 806, one of the oldest in France. Inside is a rare mosaic from the time of Charlemagne.
At Saint-Benoît-sur-Loire we visited Fleury Abbey. The monastery dates to the seventh century and became an important center of learning during the Carolingian era, although the beautiful Romanesque basilica standing today was built mainly during the 11th and 12th centuries.
Then we reached Sully-sur-Loire and one of the most beautiful châteaux either of us has ever seen. The 14th-century fortress rises directly from its moat, with round towers and a perfect reflection beneath those enormous clouds. We circled through town several times, bought sandwich supplies at Carrefour Express, and found a bench overlooking the château for another memorable picnic.
With about 19 miles remaining, the tailwind continued doing its generous work. We rolled into Gien around 3:30 and stopped at a shop selling local products. The wonderfully helpful young man introduced us to an aged Crottin de Chavignol, a small goat cheese from the nearby Sancerre area. As it matures, it becomes firmer, drier, sharper, and much stronger in flavor but without the smell. This one definitely had personality.
We also selected two locally brewed beers and a jar of raw lavender honey. The honey was produced by an 80-year-old beekeeper who is nearing the end of his honey-making days, so we felt especially fortunate to carry one of his jars away with us.
After groceries and a short tour of Gien, with its old stone bridge, church, and brick château overlooking the Loire, we checked into a house with several rentable bedrooms, shared facilities, and massive lavender plants growing outside in the garden. Just as it happened once in Japan, traveling in the quiet season worked in our favor. Nobody else had booked a room, so we had the entire house to ourselves.
We walked back into town for the sunset and evening lights, then satisfied our craving for Indian food by sharing a dish at Namaste, only a few blocks from our house. Back in our temporary private mansion, we assembled our own French cheese platter with the strong, dry Chavignol, a firm nutty cheese, and a creamy blue, and finished with a little chocolate.
Two rides of more than 60 miles are waiting for us before our next rest day. The forecast looks good, our postcard stamps remain elusive, and the Loire continues to lead us east.Read more
Love the amazing lights, interesting scenery & your smiling faces. Lola has been in hospital with breathing problems but is now home. Colder & rainy. Guardians up 2-1. Game tonight unless it rains. [Mommy C.]
Rewinding a Day in the Loire Valley.
October 12 in France
☁️ 19 °C
Day 42: Amboise to Orléans (67 miles / 1680 ft.)
Right now, I’m lying in bed in our Airbnb with the fan blowing over us as Lisa falls asleep beside me. Our legs are tired from nearly 70 miles of riding and another 10,000 steps exploring Orléans, so tonight’s story seems best told backward.
Just before crawling into bed, we walked home through an incredibly quiet and peaceful city. It was after 10:00, but we never felt unsafe. The cathedral dark against the silver sky, the streets were nearly empty, and Orléans felt calm enough to belong entirely to us.
Before that came another memorable evening around a WS dinner table.
Petra and Sébastien had originally agreed to host us through Warmshowers. Unfortunately, after five years and five tours, I made a rookie mistake and also reserved a nonrefundable Airbnb for the same night. We decided to use the room but asked if they would still like to meet for dinner. Thankfully, they did.
Petra is originally from the Czech Republic and teaches English, primarily to adults. Sébastien works for the département, an administrative area somewhat comparable to a county, specializing in mapping and public planning.
We began in the kitchen with a sweet wine, then moved to the dining room for Georgian eggplant rolls filled with walnut paste and a fresh salad. The main course included rice and little pastry parcels filled with spinach, ricotta, and cilantro. Then, because this is France, out came three cheeses with bread and red wine, including Sébastien’s favorite, Comté.
The conversation continued until nearly 10:00, when we began our 30-minute walk back to the Airbnb.
Before dinner, we had checked into our apartment, showered, rested, and caught up on FindPenguins. We had arrived earlier than expected because this had been one of our fastest and smoothest days of the entire trip.
A gentle six-mile-per-hour cross-tailwind helped us click off more than 40 miles before noon. After that, it was mostly smooth sailing into Orléans.
Rewind a little farther and you’ll find us searching a small town for lunch. We navigated to the local boulangerie-pâtisserie, only to discover it was closed. A little more searching led us to a grocery store, where I found a savory crêpe filled with ham and soft cheese. Lisa picked a chicken sandwich, and we shared olives and potato chips before getting back to business.
Before lunch came mile after mile beside the Loire. The route passed Chaumont-sur-Loire, Blois, Beaugency, and Meung-sur-Loire, with château walls, church towers, old stone bridges, and villages appearing along the river. Large birds gathered in the shallows and on the sandbars, occasionally lifting into the air as we approached. We also passed local cyclists and a few other bicycle tourists following the Loire.
The early morning may have been the most beautiful part. We initially rode above the river, watching the rising sun filter through layers of clouds and illuminate the valley below. Eventually, the route descended to the water, where the broad Loire, islands, wetlands, and autumn colors guided us toward Orléans.
Now rewind all the way to 6:45 this morning, one of our earliest wake-up times of the entire trip.
As we prepared to go upstairs, the garage door was open and we said goodbye to Rose as she left for school. Then we joined Anthony, Angélique, and Louis for scrambled eggs, toast, leftover lemon cake, and delicious Egyptian coffee.
There were more stories around the table before Anthony left for his 40-minute motorcycle ride to work. A little later, Angélique took Louis to school. She returned, we finished preparing the bikes, and at about 8:40 we rolled away from another wonderful Warmshowers family.
And that is how we ended up here, another beautiful day along the Loire running backward through my mind.Read more
Châteaux, Chain Earrings, and New Friends
October 11 in France
☁️ 17 °C
Day 41: Chinon to Amboise (57 miles / 1760 ft.)
The Loire Valley is magnificent!
Our morning began by carefully finagling the loaded bicycles down the narrow staircase from our tiny apartment. Once that mission was accomplished, we rolled out of Chinon and into one of those nearly picture-perfect days of riding.
The route followed the river valley before climbing into the nearby hills, giving us views across vineyards, changing leaves, caves carved into the limestone walls, and château after château. We passed Château d’Ussé, continued along the Loire through Villandry, and shared the route with a handful of other touring cyclists. It is a quieter time in the valley, but we certainly weren’t alone.
Early in the day, we passed another touring cyclist while we were “hightailing it” and didn’t stop to talk. His name was Xabi, originally from the Basque Country but now living in Barcelona. We figured that was probably the last we would see of him.
When we reached Tours, we discovered professional team trucks and preparations for Paris–Tours, one of France’s famous one-day bicycle races. If we had planned better, Tours might have made an exciting overnight stop, but at least we took a few pictures beside the trucks and soaked up a little of the atmosphere.
We explored a bit more of the city, including the impressive Saint-Gatien Cathedral, and then crossed paths with Xabi again. This time he was riding with Jules, a young French cyclist he had met along the way.
The four of us stopped beside the American Monument fountain, which honors the American Expeditionary Forces’ Services of Supply based in Tours during World War I. We made sandwiches, drank a couple of unusual Dr Peppers, and traded cycling and travel stories.
Before parting, we noticed that both men had pierced ears, so we gave each of them a pair of the earrings I make from bicycle chains. They immediately put them on, which made the gift even more fun.
From Tours, we pushed east toward Amboise, sometimes beside the Loire and sometimes wandering inland on one of my patented zigzagging routes. Despite our creative navigation, the riding remained beautiful through vineyards, small villages, and quiet roads.
By the time we reached Amboise, Xabi and Jules had beaten us there and were enjoying beers below the Château d’Amboise. Inside the château’s Chapel of Saint-Hubert is the site traditionally identified as Leonardo da Vinci’s tomb. We joined them for another round of stories, then Xabi stayed with us for one more cold drink before we finally continued to our Warmshowers hosts.
Anthony and Angélique welcomed us with a tour of the house and an amazing private basement suite with a bedroom, shower, refrigerator, laundry, and all the privacy we could possibly need. After getting cleaned up, we went upstairs and played with their three-year-old son, Louis, before sitting down to dinner with the family.
In true French style, dinner unfolded slowly. We began with sardines wrapped around green olives and served on toothpicks. The main course was what we all decided to call potato pie, covered with a delicate pastry crust that Angélique had decorated with the outline of a leaf. Next came salad with vinaigrette, followed by bread and two cheeses, goat cheese and Roquefort.
For dessert, I had a baked apple, while Lisa had a baked pear, both glazed with sugar and served alongside Angélique’s homemade lemon cake.
Their 16-year-old daughter, Rose, joined us and did a wonderful job practicing her English. We spent the evening hearing about the family’s bicycling, sailing, and travels through South America. Most amazing was Anthony’s four-year adventure across South America, which included canoeing alone on the Amazon. Every time we think our bicycle trip sounds adventurous, we meet another Warmshowers host who raises the bar considerably!
Once again, we looked at the clock and discovered it was after 11:00. Exhausted but very happy, we headed downstairs to our private little apartment for a good night’s sleep.
Tomorrow brings a big ride to Orléans, but tonight we fell asleep thinking about another beautiful day filled with châteaux, autumn colors, chance encounters, bicycle-chain earrings, and the kind of connections that make touring so special.Read more
The Loire Valley: Three Years Late, Right on Time!
October 10 in France
⛅ 13 °C
Day 40: Angers to Chinon (65 miles / 2,235 feet)
What a magnificent day in the Loire Valley!
After a wonderful night with Benoît and Angelica, we began the next morning with yogurt, bread, a delicious green rhubarb spread, and freshly ground Ethiopian coffee. We chatted about puzzles and looked at a retro stand up video arcade game Benoît had built himself. Once again, we found it difficult to stop talking and leave, but around 10:00 we finally rolled into the cool, sunny morning.
Our tired legs had us considering two possibilities: a shorter 45-mile route or the full 65-mile version. We wouldn’t need to decide until Saumur, so we started riding and waited to see what the day brought.
Apparently, a great night with Warmshowers hosts was exactly what we needed. We were cruising along at nearly 15 miles per hour, following the Loire through changing leaves, quiet villages, harvested vineyards, and long stretches of riverside trail with another self propelled boat crossing. We hoped to reach the Saturday market in Saumur, but a nice conversation with an English couple delayed us. By the time we arrived, the market was winding down, but the conversation had been worth it. We have seen plenty of markets, but we don’t always get to meet interesting people along the trail.
We found a narrow savory pastry that was something like pizza and shared a piece of pudding-like cake. We have no idea what either one was called, but they filled us up! Then we climbed to the Château de Saumur, the former palace of the Dukes of Anjou, for beautiful panoramic views over the city and the broad Loire River.
By then, the riding had been so enjoyable that the decision was easy: we were taking the longer route.
That carried us inland to the Royal Abbey of Fontevraud. We didn’t have the best view without stopping for a full visit, but it was still impressive knowing that this enormous abbey was founded in 1101 and became the burial place of Henry II, Eleanor of Aquitaine, and Richard the Lionheart.
After Fontevraud, we descended toward the river valley again through one of the most unusual landscapes we have ridden. The hillsides were filled with entrances to caves and old underground galleries carved into the region’s soft, pale tuffeau limestone. Over the centuries, these spaces have become homes, workshops, mushroom farms, and naturally cool wine cellars. We even rode through a few of the passages ourselves.
Sometimes we feel a little guilty that we don’t stop and explore every château, church, cave, and historic town. Are we missing something? Maybe, but then we remind ourselves that riding is not simply how we travel between the attractions. For us, the riding is the attraction. We experience a place through its roads, rivers, hills, weather, conversations, smells, and constantly changing scenery. That is what we love.
We followed the Vienne River toward Chinon, stopping for groceries before squeezing ourselves and all our gear up a very steep staircase to our tiny efficiency apartment. In France, the ground floor is zero, but after 65 miles, the first floor can still feel like the fifth!
Dinner was simple and perfect: lasagna, bread, olives, three different cheeses, and, naturally, a bottle of Chinon red wine. We caught up on FindPenguins and Warmshowers reviews, then decided our legs had earned an evening without another walk. We will hopefully explore Chinon by bicycle tomorrow morning, when the streets are quiet.
This ride felt especially meaningful because we were supposed to be here in 2023. Less than 24 hours before that trip, Lisa crashed and fractured her pelvis, and everything had to be canceled. Now, three years later, we are finally riding this route together.
The grapes have been harvested, the leaves are changing, the air is cooler, and most of the tourists have gone home. We may have arrived three years late, but somehow it feels like we are exactly on time.Read more
Angers: Cold Winds and a Warm Welcome
October 9 in France
☁️ 17 °C
Day 39: Bressuire to Angers (69 miles / 2500 ft.)
For me, it was not the best night of sleep. Our somewhat janky Airbnb felt old and dusty, my eyes were scratchy, and I finally took a Zyrtec in the middle of the night. Maybe it was allergies, or perhaps I was fighting off a cold.
I was also a little stressed. Our expected Warmshowers hosts in Angers, with whom we had communicated well before the trip, told us they would not be home until 8:15 p.m., after dark. Following some back-and-forth messages, we agreed it would be better to make other arrangements.
Fortunately, the alternative request connected us with Benoît and Angelica. In hindsight, that change was a blessing.
Both Lisa’s legs and mine were unusually sore. Maybe it was the six-hour car ride two days earlier, the previous day’s relentless headwind, the colder weather, or simply the accumulated miles. Whatever the reason, we both agreed that riding felt difficult.
We rolled away from Bressuire beneath gray skies, passing the medieval remains of its château. Built on a rocky promontory, it once had three defensive walls and dozens of towers. Its old stone gateway provided an appropriately dramatic beginning to our ride north.
Much of the day felt more like business than sightseeing. We pushed into the cold wind, concentrating on moving forward and dreaming about a warm room and a relaxing evening with our new hosts.
As we moved from the Bocage Bressuirais into Anjou, the landscape gradually changed. The thick hedgerows and pastures gave way to more open farmland and then rows of grapevines. Near the Layon Valley, vineyards stretched across the rolling hills, their leaves beginning to show autumn colors.
The most impressive landmark was Château de Brissac rising above the vineyards. Known as the “Giant of the Loire Valley,” it is the tallest château in France, with seven floors and more than 200 rooms. Even beneath the dark sky, it was an incredible sight.
The final approach to Angers carried us across the broad Loire at Les Ponts-de-Cé. We stopped beside the monument to Dumnacus, an ancient leader of the Andecavi people who once lived in this region. From the bridge, the wide river and its islands made it clear that we had finally reached the Loire Valley.
We arrived in Angers around 4:30 p.m., just in time for the evening rush. Students were leaving school, people were finishing work, buses and trams moved through the streets, and bicycles and scooters seemed to appear from every direction.
The changing bike lanes, tram tracks, one-way streets, and signs warning of a €150 fine for riding in certain areas made navigating feel like a puzzle in which every piece was the same color.
We jostled around long enough to see a few of the city’s large churches, including Saint-Joseph, and rode through the busy center. As the ominous sky began to sprinkle, we decided we had experienced enough urban confusion and headed toward Benoît and Angelica’s home.
For the umpteenth time, Warmshowers gave us exactly what we needed.
Benoît and Angelica were still finishing their remote work, but they welcomed us inside, showed us the shower and our wonderfully clean, dust-free room, and brought us water and glasses. Lisa and I both sighed with relief. I stretched out for a little while, while Lisa somehow found the energy to catch up on a little work.
Once they finished working, we gathered for snacks and Ch’ti, a northern French bière de garde with a little Belgian character. A slideshow of their travels played across the television, showing Japan, Colombia, and several bicycle trips. Naturally, every photograph led to another question, story, or shared memory.
Dinner began with salad and French shepherd’s pie, accompanied by one of their favorite red wines.
Then came the cheese platter!
Seven different cheeses were arranged before us, including both Benoît’s and Angelica’s favorites. Angelica joked that although she comes from Normandy, a region famous for cheese, her favorite comes from the Swiss mountains. Practically a traitor!
As always, the longer we talked, the more common ground we discovered: our love for our sons, travel, kindness, food, humor, puzzles, and owning different bicycles for different purposes. Their commuter bikes were only the beginning.
For dessert, we shared canelés from a bakery where Lisa and I had stopped earlier. These small pastries have a dark, caramelized shell surrounding a soft, custardy rum and vanilla center. They may now be my favorite dessert in the world. Benoît and Angelica made them even better by adding vanilla ice cream.
We sat around the table for nearly three hours, talking, laughing, and learning from one another. As the evening wound down, they offered tea or coffee. I chose decaf, but by then both Lisa’s eyelids and mine were drooping.
The day had begun with poor sleep, sore legs, uncertainty, gray skies, and cold wind. It ended in a clean, comfortable home with delicious food, laughter, and two more people we felt fortunate to meet.
Their cute white cat also made us feel welcome by snuggling against us on the couch while slowly claiming more and more space, as if its real goal was to push us onto the floor.
Once again, Warmshowers turned a difficult day into a wonderful one.Read more
A Ferry, a Headwind, and a Classic Blunder
October 8 in France
🌙 13 °C
Day 38: Niort to Bressuire (60 miles / 3,800 ft.)
It was a slow-moving morning, beginning with breakfast alongside Thomas. We had bread, marmalade, honey, yogurt, and coffee, our now-familiar French breakfast. The yogurt was made from sheep’s milk, a first for us, and it was delicious.
After breakfast, we lingered over more conversation with Thomas, including a few more musical ideas for us to explore. Eventually, we said goodbye and rode to the Niort market.
We wandered among the cheese, produce, bread, and other local specialties in search of tomatoes, honey, and our favorite cheese from the night before, Cendré de Niort. The creamy goat cheese is aged on a chestnut leaf and was definitely worth tracking down. Once our bags were a little heavier, we finally pointed the bikes toward Bressuire.
We had 60 miles and nearly 3,800 feet of climbing ahead of us. The morning temperature was around 49 degrees, and a stiff wind quickly established itself as the day’s nagging little enemy.
Despite the chill, the early riding along the winding Sèvre Niortaise was beautiful. I also had a surprise planned for Lisa: a tiny self-service ferry near Sciecq. When we arrived, the ferry was waiting on the opposite bank, so we pulled a chain to bring it across, rolled our loaded bicycles aboard, and then used another chain to pull ourselves across the river.
It was something neither of us had ever done before, which always makes a bicycle tour more fun. It was even a little romantic, just the two of us hauling ourselves across the quiet river toward a ruined château.
On the opposite bank stood Château de Mursay. The château became the home of the poet and soldier Agrippa d’Aubigné during the late 1500s. His granddaughter, Françoise d’Aubigné, spent her early childhood there before later becoming Madame de Maintenon and the secret wife of King Louis XIV. Today, the remaining stone walls form a peaceful garden of ruins beside the river.
From Mursay, we left the flatter Niort plain and entered the Gâtine poitevine. The landscape changed into rolling farmland, pastures, small woods, ponds, and fields divided by thick hedgerows. It looked gentle compared with the Pyrenees, but the constant short climbs gradually added up.
That was my classic blunder for the day. I assumed that leaving the Pyrenees meant we were in for an easier ride. Instead, we found rolling hills, stiff legs from the previous days, and a chilly headwind that seemed determined to stay with us all afternoon.
Our route carried us through Champdeniers, Saint-Marc-la-Lande, and Mazières-en-Gâtine before twisting through the medieval town of Parthenay. From there, we joined La Vélidéale, following an old railway line north toward Bressuire.
The former tracks have been converted into a long, peaceful greenway through the Gâtine and Bocage bressuirais. The gradual railway grades were certainly easier than the surrounding roads, although even the trail had more climbing than we expected. We passed old stations, wooded cuttings, farms, pastures, and the occasional opening with views across the rolling countryside.
Above us, the sky was brilliant blue with puffy white clouds, but the photographs did not show how cold it felt. With the wind, colder temperatures it seemed at least ten degrees colder.
We finally rolled into Bressuire around 5:00 p.m., tired but happy to be there. We wandered around town taking pictures, visited a grocery store for supplies, and then found our Airbnb.
Unfortunately, the advertised shared kitchen would not be available to us until 8:15. The accommodations were not quite what we expected, but we made do. Eventually, we abandoned our original dinner plans, picked up a pizza and French fries, and ate in our room.
It may not have been the easy post-Pyrenees day I had imagined, but it was still another beautiful one. We explored a lively market, crossed a river by pulling our own ferry, visited a château, followed an old railway, and watched an entirely different region of France unfold around us.
Not bad for a day that began with a classic blunder.Read more
6 Hour Drive for 6 Cheeses
October 7 in France
🌧 17 °C
Day 37: Lescar to Niort (6-hour drive / 3-mile ride)
Lisa and Isabelle woke early to practice yoga while Jean-Michel and I prepared breakfast. We shared more stories over coffee before facing the unfortunate truth: it was raining, and we had a rental car waiting at the Pau airport.
Jean-Michel generously offered to drive us and our bicycles there. We gladly accepted, loaded everything into his van, and avoided beginning the day with a wet ride. At the airport, we unloaded the bikes, took them apart, and somehow squeezed them and all our gear into the rental car.
Then came the six-hour drive to Niort.
Vincent and Frédérique, our Warmshowers hosts near Espelette, had recommended several beautiful towns along the way. We had great intentions, but the rain, our late start, and our decision to avoid toll roads made the drive longer than expected. The smaller roads gave us a closer look at the countryside of southwestern France, but there would be no sightseeing stops today. Those towns will have to wait for another trip.
Driving for six hours was surprisingly more tiring and stressful than riding through the Pyrenees!
Right on cue, the skies brightened as we approached Niort. We easily found the rental-car return, and an employee came outside with two coffees while we unloaded the car and reassembled our bicycles. That felt like exceptionally good service!
Before riding to our Warmshowers home, we stopped for a celebratory cold drink and watched a different part of France unfold around us. The mountains were gone, the landscape was flatter, and we had suddenly entered another chapter of the trip.
Thomas soon messaged to say he was home and ready for us. We took our time riding the three miles to the house, doing a little sightseeing and stretching legs that had spent far too long folded inside a small car.
Thomas greeted us, and Bénédicte returned home soon afterward. While our laundry was finishing, Thomas mapped out a walking tour of Niort’s old town. Lisa and I spent about an hour and 20 minutes exploring the historic center and the area around the Sèvre Niortaise. Niort’s massive twin-towered medieval keep rises near the river, and the city serves as a gateway to the waterways and green landscapes of the Marais Poitevin.
When we returned, their 11-year-old son, Guilhem, was home from school and his after-school juggling activity. Naturally, we needed a short juggling demonstration before dinner.
The meal began with sweet melon from southern France, followed by ratatouille, rice, and Bordeaux red wine. Then came the grand finale: six cheeses made from sheep, goat, and cow’s milk from different regions of France.
We nibbled our way around the platter, discussing the flavors, textures, and which ones melted most beautifully in our mouths. Thomas, Lisa, and I agreed that our favorite was the local Cendré de Niort, a raw goat’s-milk cheese with an ash-covered rind that is aged on a chestnut leaf. It was creamy, soft, and perfect spread across a piece of bread.
Guilhem’s English teacher knew he had American visitors, so he had been assigned to learn some new English words from us. We settled on cantaloupe, zucchini, and Strider, the brand of balance bike without pedals that he first learned to ride. It seemed like an appropriate word to learn from two visiting cyclists!
We also found plenty of similarities between Guilhem and Sebastian, including their interests in music, Playmobil, One Piece, and Astérix and Obélix.
Bénédicte left before the cheese course because she was singing in a concert, and Guilhem eventually went to another room to finish his homework. That left Thomas, Lisa, and me around the table doing what Warmshowers people seem to do best: discussing the differences and similarities between our countries, lifestyles, religion, and a little politics, but not too much.
Thomas also gave us a fascinating introduction to electronic music. After leaving a job he had held for 20 years, he is now searching for his next position while volunteering at a radio station, researching musicians, and studying trends in electronic music. We discussed Tortoise, the experimental Chicago band that mixes elements of rock, jazz, dub, and electronic music. We did not listen to anything that night, but Thomas gave us plenty of new musical ideas to explore later.
Once again, the conversation and friendly banter were so enjoyable that time disappeared. When we finally checked the clock, it was approaching 11:00.
It had been another fabulously interesting day. The six-hour drive may have been more exhausting than climbing mountains, but it ended exactly as we hoped: with wonderful food, new musical ideas, laughter, and another family we felt fortunate to meet.Read more
Traveler
Welcome home!
TravelerThanks for sharing your trip with us. Some of the routes you cycled, are now on our bucket list 😊
TravelerEinde van alweer een groot avontuur voor mijn twee Amerikaanse vrienden. Terug thuis in Iowa. Geniet nu van de twee laatste maanden van 2026... en veel plezier en geluk in 2027. :: jos #BjørnvanZweden