A WORK IN PROGRESS

This year I returned to magical Fontainebleau. I searched for a specific spot, hidden beneath the cloak of the forest's ferns and rocks It's not a difficult route to climb nor is it famous. But it represented a journey and a special time years ago in my life.

I heard about the #worthridingto stories, and this trip instantly came to mind.

I went back on my Resolution, taking 2.5 days to ride the 600km from Brighton and back. Carrying just essential things to live, sleep, climb, and a camera to record my journey.

Reflection in train window. Sunset. I left Brighton with an impressive sunset. ‘A Fond Farewell’ came into mind.

Good light on the ferry for sunset. I coudn't really sleep much.

 

Started off at 0.5, but the nuturing, warming fleece of the golden sunrise soon enveloped me.

I was long past my ETA to get to Font because I had quite a few delays mainly due to some routing errors i.e. paths plotted that didn't exist in real life at all.

I arrived at this gliding school at 8pm. My route took me past it to the left, which looked like a nice winding bridleway but in reality it was a dead end at an A road.

I made the decision to head to the nearest cheapo motel and left early again the next morning.

Arrived! This is at the start of one of the many fire road routes that criss-cross the forest. You can ride around these but to get to the rocks you must divert into the woods where the paths become sandy, needing larger than 30mm tyres to ride along.

I was revelling in the journey I had the previous day, forgetting that I didn't actually know where I specifically needed to get to in the forest.

Looking at my photos from the years before, little did they help to guide me towards to fabled spot that was #worthridingto.

I headed onwards into the woods, feeling pretty hopeless as I struggled to ride in the deep sand, and allowed myself to ander freely.

I don't know how this happened but I made it. Some deep feeling guided me to this point, chruning through the forest trails like the insides of a vast, ancient green figure.

I stumbled along and felt silly carrying my road bike up and over rocks. It was past the point of even trying to ride them. I took my SPDs off long before then and clambered as best as I could in my bouldering shoes.

Morning / Evening from my bivvi spot. Along the banks of the River Seine, I felt comfortable here, but felt the urge to keep moving as soon as I awoke at 5:30am.