Titanium at Condrieu.

Ars-sur-Formans to Tournon sur Rhone
95 miles/152.8kms
1480m of ascent
Average speed 17.2 mph

Our hotel had filled up as we were going to bed and breakfast could have been a bit of a ramé, but the jolly priest in charge of the forty young teenagers was evidently in control. He even found time to wave a blessing over our group as we sat in the hotel foyer -much to the annoyance of some of the agnostics amongst us.
It was sunny and bright but luckily there was a cool wind blowing mainly from behind us as we set off. The mornings cycle was over 60 miles and consisted of long sweeping descents on smooth tarmac and quiet roads, with long steady ascents. Spring in full swing in the Saonne valley and lush grass on the plateau we crossed as we headed to the Rhone. We passed through Beaujolais country and the terraced valleys filled with vines. The air was full of the smell of Oilseed rape in bloom, Jays, Kites and even a swarm of bees. The roads were quiet except around the outskirts of Lyon, and we only had one route finding problem so most of the group were happy. The hardest climb of the day was the last before lunch and it fractured the group for the first time. Luckily the descent to the lunch stop above Condrieu was magnificent so we all had smiles on our faces when we pulled in to the lay-by where Russ was waiting with the usual sandwich fillings. The view over Condrieu and the Rhone beyond was beautiful and typically French with vineyards and poplars as far as the eye could see.
The afternoon was a perfect complement to the mornings efforts. 40 miles on flat roads down the Rhone valley to Tournon. Dave Cook took the front after a few miles and despite the headwind pushed us along at 24 to 28 mph for about 30 miles. I was lucky to be able to hold his wheel at no. 3 in the chain but stood no chance of getting to the front to do a share of the work. The boys behind got cut off at a busy road junction then an unfortunate red traffic light and struggled to close the gap. Some didn't but Chris Batch was there to take the last sprint of the day at Tournon. Simon Flack was puce (from rage at being dropped and from the effort he had put in trying unsuccessfully to bridge the gap) as we sat down for a drink in the central square. It took a swift Demi to cool him down and get him smiling again.

A higher class of hotel which we have used before awaited. A wonderful French Restaurant and local Rhone wines helped our dissection of the days activities. My legs know that I have been cycling for the past two days. Roll on day three...