King of the Road,Ventoux and bust!

So he's got his mojo back and after a huge gap he's going to tell you all about how I went up Mt Ventoux and came back down again in triumph. (Hi, sorry about that. Are you sure it was triumph?) You're forgiven and yes it was triumph. (Hmm, we shall see.)

It all started when Jack and I had a wee drink.  It was a lovely mango smoothie thingy, and, as you can see, we were fairly prostrated when we'd done - it was a big glass for little bears.









So I said, "I'm off for a wee ride on my bike. Up Mt Ventoux!" Well, there was some consternification, and cries of, "Are you sure?" and, "It's a long way for a wee bike." and stuff... "Boff!" as the French would say.

Ah, the smell of the open road, the singing of the tyres on tarmac, the funny signs people write on the road. (They do?) Yup, they do, well at least they do there.

 The road was steep.












And I saw some interesting sights.  This big man on his even bigger bike thought I was funny until I zoomed past him leaving him in a cloud of dust and exhaust fumes. Pah, peasants. (Heh, hang on a minute.  I ride my bike a lot and I don't like people who do that to me. Or bears for that matter.) Don't care, he shouldn't have smirked.

I like this sign - it says The only way is up but it says it backwards if you know what I mean, and what if you want to came back down, as I did?  Then the only way is down.  Then it would read "Is up, way, the only?" And of course then the answer is "It isn't."

Soon enough I reached the top, and my little bear bot was fairly throbbing after all the bumping on the road. So off I hopped and a kind personage took my photo as I was right on the tippy top of the mounting. 6,273ft up I was - that's 1912m for those of you who are metric - so I didn't run about too much as it was quite puff making.

Soon it was time to go, 'cos dinner beckoned down at the gite.

Most of the road was clear though sometimes there were some cars to avoid.

Here I am back at the bottom of the mounting. Can you see me?  I'm almost all the way over to the left of the picture - 'cor this is like spotting Sebastian.










I was whizzing along, not a care in the world, admiring the scenery when...................











I didn't see a big clump of lavender and next thing I was sailing over the handlebars.

There I lay, groaning and wondering where I was, when a kind somebody (Let's call him Alan) came along and said, "Hello bear what rare you doing there?"  What a STUPID question. I ask you.

Still, he picked my bike up and me and carry us gently back to the gite, where I got all bungaged up.

Then I got my ear bashed by Bearacht.  "There, I told you little bearie, nay crash hat and nay sense.  You'll be more careful next time."  Yeah, yeah yeah. Who need friends like that?  (Well you do, it may have been hard to hear, but better that it came from another bear and not me.)  Well, I aspose so.

There was a silver lining 'cos Ann and Jack got me some yummy cherries and a macaroon and I felt ever so much better afterwords.  I won't do that again in a hurry.


Hugs to all,

Jock