Today I plot a route South and East of where we had been randonnée-ing before: from Col du Joncin, where we had previously seen people picnicking while driving to Villefranche Sur Saone, then North to Le Briberat, then South to Le Chatoux, before returning to the start. A total route of 6.5 km with an overall elevation change of 145m.
We park just in the parking lot above the picnic site, which is just across the Highway D116 from the yellow Col de Joncin randonnée signpost. Although we could easily just start up the hill behind the parking lot, I walk to the signpost to have an "official" start point. Then I walk back up to the parking lot. Colin sighs but indulges me.
We head North towards Le Briberat. Right away, we get some really nice views of the countryside. Soon, the official randonnée path goes up a switchback, barely visibly marked with a yellow "turn right" flag painted on a rock to the right side of the path.
We follow the path up the turnoff, but we don't get far before the path disintegrates so much we just give up and go back to the gravel road. We make a judgement call, and decide to follow the gravel road instead of the official randonnée path. According to the map, we will have two opportunities to connect back to the official route to the Le Briberat signpost.
The first opportunity is really thin, super steep, and rocky, so we keep on the road a little longer. The second looks great, so we head up.
Although, not far up the hill we see a very curious sign. I only understand one word on it... I'll let you guess which one. My dictionary tells me that "caniveaux béton" means "concrete gutters." That is not helpful at all. I don't see any kind of gutters anywhere.
The road heads uphill until we meet up with the other end of the overgrown path we were supposed to take earlier. It looks as equally (not) tempting from this end as it did from the other end. It practically engulfed by the woods. I assume most people do what we did and take the gravel road.
The path is nice and easy. Soon we find ourselves at the Le Briberat randonnée signpost. We turn left and head up the hill a little towards Bois Chai, to see if we can improve on the views. We soon realize we can't, so we return back to the signpost to head towards Source des Anes. Based on the map, we assume we will be heading downhill now, but the path takes us along the crest, then up some more to the summit of the hill ahead. We alternate between great viewpoints and more killer hills upwards.
At the top, I am surprised there is a picnic site. We rest, guzzle our water, and enjoy the views. There is even a map-board telling us which cities we can see in the distance. We can identify Villefranche-sur-Saone. The board tells us Lyon is in the far distance, and we imagine we can see it, but we probably can't.
The path starts to head downhill, and it looks very similar to hikes we have been on in our home province in BC, Canada. Roots pop out from the dirt trail, making sure we watch our footing.
We reach a fork in the trail, but three separate randonnée flags are painted onto a tree, telling us to take the left fork. We get treated to one more spectacular view before the downhill trail starts getting really serious.
Even though we choose each step carefully, we slip and slide our way down the incredibly steep trail. We knock loose rocks down on each other as we try to find stable footholds. My muscles tense up, waiting for a fall, as I baby-step my way down. It goes on and on, getting worse and worse. I know my leg muscles are going to be annoyed with me tomorrow.
Standing at the bottom, looking back at the rocky mess of a path we just descended (at right in the photo below), I notice we have come to a junction with another path (on the left in the photo below). It is flat and level, bright and airy. It also has a big "X" on it, signalling "don't go this way." I am totally reminded at the scene in some classic animated movie, where the character can't decide between taking the really bright cheerful easy-looking path to the left and the totally dark and sinister path to the right. Of course, they take the fork to the right and end up in big trouble. This type of faulty decision-making is why movie-goers yell at the screen in theatres. (For the life of me, I can't remember which movie this scene is from, so if you do, please let me know in the comments).
As we stand there in the little clearing at the junction, joking around about movie tropes, we hear what sounds like a vehicle motor revving somewhere quite close to us. There is no way a car would be coming through any of these paths! Could it be motorbikes? They would have to be crazy to.... um yep... here they come! Right down the path we had just walked. They pass us and pause on the track, perhaps to make sure they still have all their limbs. Then zoom off ahead of us. We feel fortunate to have finished our descent before the bikes arrived.
Soon afterwards, the path gets flat, clear, and straight. Now THIS would be a nice path for a bike ride. I think of the motorbikers and wonder if they originally thought their whole route would be more like this, then simply got stuck on an unexpected rocky portion, or whether they were daredevils who knew this route would be massively rocky. The nice level path continues through the woods, then skirts them on one side so we can again get some great views (and a cool breeze!)
Just as we step back into the trees, the path forks, but fortunately, we are at the Source des Anes yellow randonnée signpost (see far right of the photo below), which points us in the direction of Fontaine des Anes (the right-hand fork). I look around to see whether there is an actual "source" here... I tell Colin that I saw on the map that something should be here. He eyes me sideways, "Are you sure you sure it was a map? Are you sure it wasn't... nothing?" I want to pout, but it's too funny, and besides, he might be right: I can't seem to find anything like a spring here anyway. We head down the path.
Several little geckos scurry out of our way. I don't get any photos today, but I'll include a couple photos I took on other walks so you can see the geckos. We've been seeing them on many of our walks.
Two hundred metres later we encounter the Fontaine des Anes randonnée signpost, which also has no fountain. I try for anes (donkeys), but come up empty on that too. The signpost directs us downhill on the path immediately next to it. Looking out over the countryside, we are spellbound. Looking down the steep steep rocky trail ahead of us, we are perplexed. This is going to be difficult and slow-going.
As we near the bottom of the hill, we again hear the roaring of engines. I look behind us nervously: are those motorbikers somehow following us down? The path is not very wide. I don't want to be on it when motorbikes roar past us. One little slip, and they could take us both down in a spectacular crash. Although there is a barbed wire fence about a foot and a half off the trail, I tell Colin there is enough room for us to get up on the high bank, and he follows my lead. It turns out the motorbikers from before were not following us down the hill... it is two completely different crazy off-roaders heading UP the hill. The four-wheeler handles the rough trail all right, but the motor bike is skidding around on the loose rocks, fishtailing his way up behind his friend.
At the bottom of the hill, we exit out onto Highway D116. The Le Chatoux randonnée signpost is on the other side of the highway, near the city sign announcing Le Chatoux. I realize that we are very close to the restaurant Le Relais du Parasoir that I have been eyeing every time we drive into Villefranche Sur Saone. Its parking lot always seems full, which is surprising considering there is not much else up in this area. I have concluded it must be a good restaurant. Plus, they welcome motards. Yep, that's what they call them. After watching the crazy bikers we saw today, I tend to agree.
Word of the day: motard
(mɔtaʀ 
)
Translations
masculine noun
- (utilisateur, sportif, adepte)
biker, motorbike rider
- (= policier)
motorcycle cop
⇒Il s'est fait arrêter par un motard pour excès de vitesse.
He was stopped for speeding by a motorcycle cop.
The randonnée signpost seems to point us down the highway, which is disappointing. Then I spy a middle-aged man on the shoulder of the highway, puffing his way towards us, dripping in sweat. He must be doing the same randonnée as us, just in the opposite direction. We wave a "Bonjour," and he heads towards the Le Chatoux randonnée signpost as we head down the highway. Considering how hot and tired he looks, I hope he is not heading up the hill we just descended. Maybe he is rewarding himself with a trip to the restaurant! I don't see where he ends up, as we lose visibility heading down the path away from him.
Just around the curve in the highway, there is a rocky path dropping away to the left. With a mailbox at its head, it seems like a driveway. However, we are happy to see two "X"s on the back of the traffic sign, along with a trail marker pointing us left. This is indeed the randonnée trail. We don't have to walk on the highway after all!
We indeed pass a house on the left, then the trail continues onward, degrading into barely more than a set of tire tracks as it enters a light woods. Hurray for shade!! The path along this portion is actually quite scenic, as it pops in and out of the trees to reveal fields and hillsides. There is even a small frog pond, teeming with croaking frogs.
Almost suddenly, we are back at the Col du Joncin randonnée signpost, and I look up across the highway towards the parking lot where our little caminnette has waited so patiently to take us back to the gite. A sign proclaims "Bonne Route," and I have to agree. This has been one of my favorite randonnées.
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