Saint-Hilaire-du-Harcouët

Day 24 of our 2017 European rides was the day that almost destroyed the peloton. We awoke to black skies and a deluge of freezing rain.. The headwind had strengthened overnight to a force 10 gale. And then the bad weather arrived.

It was hard to maintain pelotonic enthusiasm when we all knew full well just how big a challenge lay ahead. Not only was the weather abysmal, but this was going to be the longest distance of the entire ride. We began by donning every piece of wet weather gear we could find and still looking for more. I tried to cheer the team by promising them that the rain would soon stop (knowing all along that it was predicted to get even worse).

We headed out in low spirits and were soon wobbling our way up a succession of hills. The rain started to penetrate every weak point in my wet weather armoury. The hills kept going. The pedals kept spinning. Carol's battery started to fail. Things were not looking great. And they weren't.

The temperature plummeted as we passed a roadside temperature gauge, 9C and dropping. The hot days of two short weeks ago were nothing more than a distant memory. Somehow we kept battling along for 25 km or so until we found refuge in a small village coffee shop. The owner seemed excited to see us, even though we were dropping water all over his tables and floor. The chocolat chaud was certainly welcome, so we each drank two cups. This boosted the local economy and our spirits, until we emerged and discovered that the weather had gotten even worse. It was positively awful.The rain was continual and the skies as black as coal. This was not the delightful summer cycling we had come so far to spend our kid's inheritances on.

At least the roads were quiet, or they were until we found ourselves riding along a busy highway with huge trucks barrelling past at 100 kph or more and splashing even more water on us. Surely people our age should be content with nothing more adventurous than a game of barefoot bowls ? Don't you believe it. In a strange way we were all loving the experience. You never really know what you are able to do, until you are put to the limit and this was certainly true today.

To our relief we finally turned off the road onto the Voie Vert cycle path and joined a lovely old rail trail which would take us all the way to our destination at St Hilaire. In fine conditions this would have been a breeze, but the torrential rain had converted the entire path to soft black mud.

After 30 km or so we were all completely covered in the muck. Each time we stopped we laughed as we compared who had collected the most muck on themselves, their bikes and their panniers. By this time the hard going had succeeded in draining Carol's battery completely. Surely things couldn't possibly get any worse ? Unfortunately they did.

A short distance further along we found that Bob had turned around and was heading back in the opposite direction. At first I thought that his ancient mind had cracked completely and that he was trying to ride back to his home at Cockatoo, however he managed to yell that he had lost the GPS from his bike and was looking for it. I reluctantly U turned and headed back with him. After a kilometre or so I had to accept that I was near exhaustion and could not go back any further. In addition, the rain had washed old sunscreen from my helmet into my eyes. They were stinging so badly I could barely see. This really was a ride of biblically bad proportions.

I once again U turned and tried to ride towards the destination. We had seen no sign of the missing GPS. Tears were running down my face as I struggled to force the bike through the quagmire. The distance seemed never ending, but finally our group collected on the edge of St Hilaire and looked for our hotel. The mud had destroyed our brakes and the conditions had (almost) destroyed us. But not quite.

When we found the hotel the owner kindly provided us with a garden hose so that we could hose each other off in the main street. And that's what we did, leaving a stream of muddy water flowing down the gutter. This provided huge merriment to the local teenagers coming home from school. We were cold, we were filthy, we were tired but in a very real way we were really happy. We had done something together that few people our age could have done. It was not the way the original script had been written, but it was what we had been given. In the years ahead I am sure we will all cherish that day we suffered and prevailed.

After we had all showered and cleaned up ourselves we enjoyed one of the best meals of the entire ride. It was absolutely superb. Yes, really, really delicious. And the weather forecast for tomorrow ? Yep,rain, rain and more rain.

And yes, Bob's GPS is still lost somewhere along the trail.Read more