#32 - A trip down memory lane and a hike up the river
Bucky’s 6-day hike along the River Loire
Winter is coming to end (at least officially), so now’s the perfect time to revisit some past outdoor adventures before preparing for future ones.
In 2019, I biked and hiked over 700 km (450 miles) along the River Loire in France. Bucky joined me for a 130 km (81 miles) section. Here is what I wrote about it at the time.
Day 1
I wake up before my alarm, notice my anxiety spike as I’m taking breakfast. We drive to the train station early and I force myself to calm down. It’s Bucky’s first time in a train and I won’t add to his stress. He climbs in easily, but seems to regret his decision when the motor starts. He shakes, pants, looks around with wild eyes… Is it fair for me to put him through this? Even if he’ll love the hiking? The second train offers a much smoother and quieter ride and Bucky starts to settle.
We climb off in Roanne. Bucky shakes off the stress and we start walking the 10 km to Villerest and tonight’s campground. Beyond that I’m not too sure about mileage or campsites. There’s no official trail along the river Loire here, I’ll have to map our own itinerary. I’m delighted by the knowledge that I’ve never been here before. Despite living along the Loire for about 30 years, I’ve never seen it this far upstream. At the campsite, I plead laziness and get half a mobilhome to avoid the rain. It seems like a splendid idea until someone gets the other half. The units are completely separated but we can hear the slightest noise and feel each step the person takes on the other side of the wall. Bucky does not like it. He growls at the slightest disturbance for a few hours before he calms down. We enjoy the last rays of the sun watching Peacock moths hang out on to the dam’s lichen-covered guardrail.
Today: 16.5 km (10 miles)
Day 2
Today we start by following a local trail along the Loire, or rather the almost lake created by the dam. Bucky trots, then stops every 10 seconds to smell the bushes. I walk slowly and continuously. The difference in pace is frustrating, the leash inevitable because of all the rabbits and cattle around. We make due. Local dogs come greet Bucky while their owners scream at them. The trail goes up a hill and down and up again. I’m out of breath and feeling foolish. Why did I assume the trail would be flat without looking closely at the maps? Another surprise, we’re road-walking half the time despite being on an official trail. At 11 I decide I’ve had enough. We need to cover 30 km to the next campsite (stealth camping is illegal here) and if I’m going to road-walk anyway, it might as well be flat. I make my own itinerary. We pass pastures with horses, donkeys and mostly cattle, seeing more birds of prey than we see cars. Bucky is being a champ. He’s a little scared of a lot of things, but manages his stress well, even bridges and cattle rushing to the fence to greet us.
At camp I feed the dog, set his mat where he naps while I pitch the tent. By 9 pm I’m ready to rest, but Bucky is on high alert, ready to jump towards the weird noises surrounding the tent. I’m on high alert too -in case he decides to tear a hole in the tent (again)- until I close all tent doors and Bucky manages to calm down.
Today: 31.5 km (19.5 miles)
Day 3
As I set off my pack seems light, my limbs ache just enough to remind me of yesterday’s effort and Bucky -though his back legs seemed slightly stiff upon waking up- is strutting along like we spent yesterday on the couch. Everything is fine. Except I’m struggling to remember why I’m doing this, why I want to be out here for another 2 weeks. I enjoy it, but I enjoy sitting on a couch doing nothing as well and that kind of slowing down seems to be more scarcely available these days. I spend the whole morning in a daze of sleep deprivation. The dirt trail is easy and then it’s gone. We follow the road, walking in the tall grass when a car passes by. In Feurs I end up at the train station. I am done. I feel guilty for resting this early and skipping a few miles, and yet as I wait for the train, Bucky snoozing at my feet, I know resting in a hotel room will make a difference. I eat, shower, resupply, write and Bucky naps, naps, naps.
Today: 17 km (10.5 miles)
Day 4
We enjoy a slow morning in the hotel room. By 8 am I’m ready to move, even if Bucky is not in a rush. He can’t talk but those eyes speak loudly. Outside we’re greeted by stormy clouds, a strong wind and temperatures too close to freezing for the month of May. Oh well, at least it’s not raining. We walk through town, on pavement, being barked at by dozens of dogs... the usual routine. And then we reach a magical place. A flat dirt trail! The wind is calmer here, in the trees, with an old quarry turned lake on my left and the river Loire on my right. Bucky is calm, stopping every so often to smell the bushes. It’s not raining and I even catch a glimpse of blue sky. I love it I love it I love it. This moment is why I’m here, and I let the scene sink into my skin. Every single second of it.
Like all moments, it passes. After road-walking through a residential area, I desperately search for a place to take a break from the wind and cold. Oh right, it’s Sunday. Everything is closed here on Sundays. We stop at a bakery. We take a break on the sunny train platform, and still we’re walking on pavement. My legs are in pain. We finally reach the campground, a small patch of green bordered by trees in the middle wheat fields. I don’t know if it’s the mice droppings, the dilapidated caravans and washrooms, or the men staring at me while I walk to the office, but it screams bad vibes to me. I ask for information, but internally I’m already planning to leave. We turn back to the road and the howling wind. My legs burn. I worry I’m pushing Bucky too hard, even if he’s trotting along just fine. After another 5 km we make it to another hotel. So much for backpacking.
Today: 32 km (20 miles)
Day 5
We set off after 9, late for us. Within 10 minutes Bucky sits and refuses to move forward. What is it? Are you legs hurting? I don’t see you limping. Did you want another nap at the hotel or do you just want to switch sidewalks? He stops again, and again. Each time I convince him to move again. Each time I question whether I’m pushing him too hard. We reach the river after an hour of urban hiking. A sharp pain in my body and I start spiralling about my own well-being for a while. By the time it fades and I focus back on Bucky, he’s trotting along just fine.
The trail climbs into the forest, soft light hitting my face through the tender green leaves. I meet a local who tells me I’m walking on retired railroad tracks. The trail is smooth and easy, it feels like a gift walking here. And then the trees disappear on the right, giving way to a low stone wall. We’re at the edge of the cliff, with the River Loire running a 100 feet below. Les Gorges de la Loire, they are stunning. The clouds shift quickly and play with the light. This is worth it. The 450 km by bike and the 100 km by foot are worth it for this very moment. We reach the Grangent dam soon after, and then I huff and puff up a steep trail until we reach a castle. From there it’s only an hour to the rented house where my parents will be joining us and we will mostly rest for the next 4 days.
Today: 16 km (10 miles)
Day 6
Bucky feels at home right away in this quiet house. He barely moves during the night, I sleep well and wake up at 5:38 am. The sun quickly warms up the air as we start hiking. Today’s problem is: I’ve done a poor job or resupplying and I’m almost out of food. I hate the lightheaded and sluggish feeling that comes with not eating enough. I finish the last of my snacks and trip on a piece of bramble that somehow rips into the back of my knee. The next village has an open bakery. I come out with a piece of bread, more chocolate pastries than I asked for and the deep satisfaction that comes with fulfilling one of my basic needs. After the village we continue on a dirt trail that climbs down 200 meters to the River Loire which we finally see today after over 4 hours. Finally, in Aurec-sur-Loire we find a park, and zone out on the grass for about 2 hours. There is time for us to push further before my parents pick us up. I just don’t want to. I like the ability to just exist without overthinking, something that only comes to me when I’ve pushed my body hard enough. Bucky rolls around in the grass and then lounges, no longer restless after 130 km.
Today: 17 km (10.5 miles)
Bucky’s hike ends here. After a few days of rest, walks and museum visits my parents drive off with him, while I continue walking for four days, spending more time hanging out with dogs than I would have expected.
Happy hiking!