PBP 2007 Fini

We get directions to the train station. First to Combourg, twelve kms away, then I dunno…maybe I scoffed at a mere twelve km because they directed us instead to Rennes, thirty km away—just follow the canal. Great, I've never been to Rennes! C'mon Nikolai—wha? Nikolai hikes up his pant leg to show me some braces or bandages attached to his tendons. The doctor told him that if he's careful, they won't have to cut too much… "No more than 10km/h," he tells me. It's going to be a long 30km.

We're starting to climb back up toward Bécherel, so I must've missed the canal. I remember seeing it on the way down—how nice and clean it looked, swollen with rainwater. We check with some locals, head back, find the canal and proceed south on the tow-path—If we're going to ride 10km/hr, a tow-path will be perfect. At a bridge we confirm with more locals. Rennes? They tell us we should follow N137. I thought "N"s, or national roads, were no good for cycling? They insist otherwise. We find another couple gathering something from the roadside—hazelnuts! I've never seen this before! They also send us to the N137.

"Man I hope Nickolai doesn't blow out a tendon," I'm thinking as we climb a steep hill. He's obsessed with finding a way to call Lazar. Why? Hass Lazar even finished yet? It's only Thursday. At the village on the hill we take a break at an Artisan Boulanger to pick up a loaf of some special coarse-grained bread recommended by the proprietress, and a couple of coffee-flavored éclairs, recommended by my sweet tooth. Nickolai and I agree they are out of this world, so we go back to the store to tell her, "tres magnifique!"

The weather is great, a fresh breeze is blowing, our tummies are happy—it's going to be a great ride to Rennes, even if it takes three hours. If we can find N137, so far no luck. Ah, there it is! But it sure doesn't look suitable for bikes. Oh well, let's go. Sure enough the first car that sees us on the entrance ramp blows his horn, waves us off, and pulls over. I guess we're in for a scolding, and sure enough he tells us that bikes are not permitted on the "N", but far from scolding he's fascinated, gets out a big fancy Nikon and wants to take our picture!