After about a decade of never getting around to it, I went for a cycling trip. These were the logistical considerations.

The rough shape of it was a weeklong picnic across France, starting in Geneva and ending in San Sebastián, during which the only plan was to ride for as much or little as pleasure requested–it’s vacation, after all. I built the route mainly around a few central stages in the Lot valley along the Chemin de St-Jacques, which I knew somewhat from a walk in 2019. I planned each stage before I began the trip, starting and stopping at booked rooms, screened to allow for late check-in. Not conceptualizing the trip as a feat of strength meant I was happy to wear what might pass as civilian clothes–hiking shorts and a merino polo–I guess some people wear that to work. In the same vein, or, more accurately, on a ridiculous whim, I bought a rather beautiful waxed canvas bag for the trip. It clashed with my dorky top tube bag, which I previously used on my road bike, somewhat under protest, and even dorkier electronics-filled cockpit.

I overdid it with the maintenance stuff. I brought a half-full bottle of wet lube, two tubes, a pump, levers, a big multitool with chain breaker, a knife, two quick links, and four replacement brake pads. Of all these, I used only the lube (after a rainy day, thinking, this will save weight!). Most of this stuff went on the top tube; the rest went under the saddle.

Other excesses: a second pair of bibs and a second pair of socks. Below my baggies I wore some unremarkable bibs. I had had a problem with some saddle soreness a year before around the Mont Blanc (admittedly on a different saddle and different bike, wearing a backpack), and I was determined to avoid it happening here. So I brought a second pair of bibs, which I never touched. I also never touched my backup pair of socks. I was able to do my laundry satisfactorily every night, and there was no need.

Off the bike, that is, for dinner, sightseeing, and, on late mornings, breakfast, I had another polo, a pair of boxers, a pair of rather stylish shorts, and sandals, which I transported tied under the canvas bag. I also had an emergency quick-dry towel, an emergency rain layer (not quite waterproof–but I had the forecast on my side), and an emergency pair of swim trunks. I was happy with my off-the-bike kit. (I slept in the boxers.)

The heaviest two things I brought were a power bank and a tub of chamois cream. The last started about two-thirds full, but I reached just about the end of it by the time I made it to Spain. (From the butt’s perspective, things went downhill on day 1, and it was a slow climb back the rest of the week. Every day was better than the last. But each day I applied chamois cream to the skin and, by day four or so, the bibs, as well. This led to a little bit of seepthrough in the hiking shorts–which, in my defense, generally looked terrible for seemingly no reason at all–no contamination was too minor to appear as a giant smudge–with the result that it wasn’t clear what was peri-chamois and what was just road grit and sweat. Or so I told myself.) I wouldn’t forego either of these.

The luggage and the bicycle, with bottles empty, weighed about 20 kg before I started the trip. I was surprised how heavy the thing felt when climbing.

The bicycle itself is my daily driver. It’s a Surly Cross Check I bought about a year ago from a guy here in Zürich who had bought it (and kitted it out) for commuting but hated the toe overlap. So much the better for me. I love toe overlap.

I would not spec out this build on a new bicycle, but maybe that’s because I’m a moron–it is great. Among its many money-no-object commuting luxuries are a completely okay dynamo hub with lighting, and high-coverage, glossy metal fenders. It’s running v-brakes (awesome) and a Shimano 2×11 drivetrain with truly old-school amounts of gearing overlap (perplexing). I haven’t gotten to snipping off the dork disk. It has a giant, monstrous rear rack, which I hate, fixed to eyelets near the dropouts with some ugly, crazy adapter plate. It’s got a very serviceable saddle that on dogmatic grounds I would have rejected at the shop, but, now on the bike, it’s clearly great. I’ve gradually warmed to its chopped-down narrow flat bar, which, along with a medium-length, nondescript stem, sits on top of about six inches of spacers. And it’s got like 40 mm Schwalbe Marathon Plus e-bike tires on it. I think each tire weighs > 950 g. They rule–they could ride through a cactus garden–and are heavy as hell. I also have a bell that I use to produce a chime of unpredictable strength, making me come across as too stealthy or extremely rude, judging by the reactions its ring seems to generate.

I didn’t do much to it for the trip. I took off the kickstand as a token concession to weightsaving. And I spent what felt like a fortune on a Sinewave Revolution charger, which is nevertheless a truly amazing and ugly piece of valuable kit, even if I can’t imagine a nice way to mount it. I also put on a computer mount and two King cages–ordinarily unnecessary with my 7 km commute. So basically nothing added to the bike. And whatever dork factor I reduced by taking away the kickstand–possibly less than none–I multiplied times ten with the computer and a zip-tied-on USB charger.

To do it again, I’d skip the duplicate clothes, lose one tube, forget the brake pads, and bring a smaller pump. It’d be nice to go without the top tube bag. I bring the knees up pretty close to the frame, and I was always bumping it, it wasn’t staying vertical that well, and anyway my rear brake cable is routed on the top of the top tube (though, with the foresight of the previous owner, the exposed run along the top tube is covered with something like a teflon sleeve). I’d ordinarily be tempted to ride with a burrito bag or something like that because at the very least I could stash electronics for charging by the Revolution; I also used to ride with my own home-brewed one and found it not annoying at all. But with the trigger shifters, brake levers, and the narrow bar, there’s a pretty dense net of cables right in front of the bar and very little room for such a bag.

(for more coverage of “france 2023”, see here.)