Yesterday, first 160k since 2017. Not as much climbing as then but >1000 metes all the same. Lots of flat & wind so climbing would have prolly been easier on the quads. Aimed for a gorge in Lorraine, the Vallée des Éclusiers, which is threaded by flight of ~10 disused locks that used to carry the Rhine/Marne canal up through ~40 metres in ~3 km. It was replaced by an inclined plane in 1969. The climb is no great shakes but coming down again is fun if you can avoid the after-lunch strollers.
(NB guardian orc upper left.)
Return via La Petite Pierre:
(old pic)
...whereafter sprinted to catch favourite patisserie before it shut, failed but picked up a pain chocolat in a bakery. This interesting beastie was parked outside:
The owner, inside, was around 70 and built like a brick shithouse. Pushing 52/23 on that he'd have to be - I popped an ACL on a similar gear in 1986. Carlen was a local bike builder who smoked too much and died of throat cancer in the 1990s. This one is from the early 90s. I bought our daughter a bike at his place in 1985: looking at the shop and the workshop behind it he wasn't building frames any more but just buying bits and assembling them.
Other high spot: I had my lovely wee J1 with its 70-300 (ish) equiv zoom along so I stopped beside a lake to snap a heron in the shallows. Lifting the camera out of the HB bag the strap caught on the bell: heron buggered off.
Got home utterly knackered. Hard to believe that on PBP we did 200k before breakfast and thought nothing of it. MrsT keeps telling me I'm not young any more, which delights me no end.
ETA just remembered that there was a regular Porscherie (from the French for pigsty) of old Stuttgarter Volkswagens abroad, all pumping out reek and trying to outdo each other for racket. The arseholes should stay their side of the border, where they'd probably be done for poisoning the forest.