Friday 22 June 2018

The Gates of Hell


This was to be my first outing on my bike - fully loaded. I wanted to get some idea of what I really needed to carry and how I might find space for it all, fully expecting to need to travel lighter. I only expected to be away for couple of nights, confident I would have left several essentials behind.

It had taken quite some time to actually get everything together - some of the inner-bags arrived early on the day of departure. So many other things had been scheduled during the week and worst of all I accidentally confirmed 3 appointments for the Thursday. As it was, I had to cancel my regular french class on the Friday otherwise I wouldn't have left at all. Even then I spent all of Friday morning packing and repacking bags, strapping bags on the bike - multiple times - until I was eventually ready to go. By then, it was well past lunchtime.

The torrent (on a good day)
Although the trip was ostensibly about the medieval frescoes decorating 8 religious buildings between Saulgé and Saint-Savin along La Gartempe, while researching the route I spotted a label on Google maps saying "Les portes d'Enfer" or "The Gates of Hell" - I couldn't very well pass that one by. So the trip started at the very gates of hell and would end with the heavenly host hoisting me on-high (perhaps).

Anyways, this was my first target, approached by a circuitous route via Lessac, Availles-Limouzine, Adriers and on toward Lathus-Saint-Rémy. Only a couple of route checks were necessary and as I approached La Gartempe, sure enough there were signs for the "Gates" or le "Roc". The maps suggested there was a path from the road to the "roches" which I hoped I could tackle on the bike but it turned out the path was a genuine footpath. For a mini-detour, I checked out the Centre de Plein Air (CPA), Lathus just upstream - a complex of buildings encircled by school buses and many, many cars. Evidently a popular outdoor pursuits centre; kayaking slalom gates were strung out across the river just for starters. Everyone must have been indoors having lunch, not a soul was about, so I just back-tracked to the bridge, parked up, removing the tank-bag with its "convenient" shoulder-strap and set out to take the path to "hell".
Looking down from one of the Gates

On one side of the bridge there were a few pebbled parking spots - empty when I arrived - with a few information boards describing the local flora and fauna. At the entrance to the path, one sign enthusiastically announced the imposing rocks down stream that turned the river into a "torrent" now named the "Gates of Hell". Sounded exciting!

It didn't take long to realise even proper dirt-bikes could not have tackled the path: up and down granite steps, clamber over exposed roots, and worse later on. It also didn't take long to discover that my tank-bag was seriously over-weight: apart from the tank magnets it had a heavy bike lock, all my electronic gear and sundry other bike bits. At least the full water bottles would be useful. The heat of the afternoon was starting to tell.

It seemed to take forever before the river began to look less than serene; a few large boulders caused some turbulence but soon the breeze rustling the leaves got drowned out by tumbling water. The sound of the torrents announced themselves before coming into view round a bend in the river and for a length of 100m or so, the brown water tumbled and cascaded every which way until my progress was halted by a series of towering granite monoliths. The path had run its course to be replaced by an almost sheer rock wall; not difficult, though stepping up the huge boulders with a too-heavy satchel in extreme heat and a jacket on was too much. I didn't even have the good sense to replace heavy, hot bike-boots with a regular pair of shoes. The bag and jacket got ditched at the bottom of the rock wall and wielding my trusty camera I clambered over and up the rocks until I reached the top of one side of the "Gates", the other across the river, with a massive rock between them. As you can see in the photo, the river has calmed down by this stage and pretty soon reverted to its serene flow disappearing into the distance.
Libellule

On top of the rocks were several pitons holding short chains, used perhaps for abseiling or maybe climbing a couple of chimneys dropping down to the river (I had seen images of rock climbing back at the CPA). The torrents did not look that scarey but then I suppose, this was almost summer time - with winter or spring rains feeding the river, I could imagine raging white-water making this part of the river pretty demanding. Back at the start, by the bridge, there were many wires crossing the river which I later discovered held canoe gates and one of the signs indicated this was an international competition venue - check out this video!

Having descended again to beside the noisy water, there were several bright blue dragonflies or libellule doing their thing, dancing in the air and chasing each other in between rest-stops on the sun-warmed granite or tall grasses dipping into the still water at the rivers edge. By now the tourist hordes were arriving - after their feasting presumably; I hadn't expected that - it didn't take many people to make the place feel crowded.

Mind, I don't think I will be coming back with a canoe in tow, at least not destined for this part of the river; too challenging for me even on a calm day like today.


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