KIWI RIDER 09 2018 VOL.2 | Page 86

All the cyclists seemed over retirement age, it was during the week, so I guess younger riders were at work. Riding is clearly a lifelong passion for these old boys, either that or all the bloody hills ages the hell out of them I stopped for gas and drinking water in Bielsa, on the Pyrenees lower slopes. Pressing on, there was a short mountain climb, a couple of cool switchbacks, some epic Pyrenean views and straight in to the Bielsa tunnel through the Alps and in to France. It’s a decent tunnel, about 3km long and climbs 200 metres as it heads north and exits into France at over 1800 metres altitude. The descent was a fantastic series of switchbacks down to very lush woodlands and picturesque villages – very different to the Spanish side. At Arreau I turned from the D929 and headed up over the Col d’Aspin mountain pass. In this area a lot of the passes are used for the Tour de France cycle race with frequent road painting and signage to proudly advertise the fact. I constantly passed riders grinding up these 15 to 20km climbs and admired their grit and stupidity in equal measure – after all, the motorcycle has been around for well over a hundred years, but this little fact 86 KIWI RIDER seems to have escaped them. Another thing that was interesting was that all the cyclists seemed over retirement age, it was during the week, so I guess younger riders were at work. Riding is clearly a lifelong passion for these old boys, either that or all the bloody hills ages the hell out of them! It was about this time that my GPS crapped out completely, which was a bit of a bastard because it was almost dark and getting to crunch time for my B&B destination. The old French villages are real rabbit warrens with very little signage. I gave up looking for the road I wanted and stopped at a pharmacy for directions, the only place open. Thankfully one lady spoke a little English... and I was close by my destination. A quick 2km ride up an unmarked road on my map and I found the place – phew. No sooner had I stopped than Phil, the B&B owner, thrust a beer into my hand. I’ve never appreciated a beer so much in my life. A long days riding in full gear and 30 plus degree temps does that to you.