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Un aller pour  l’Authion. Ça promet !

A trip to Authion. It promises !

Let's go. We take the gang on board for a day as high as it is sensational, heading towards the Authion summit.

The ride promises some surprises, we'll tell you everything . No taboo between us, sworn sworn, the code of honor of Massacan is thus made.

Well on the other hand, we like to make crates of them.

Be careful, this will go very quickly:

7:25 a.m.: It starts directly on the WhatsApp group…A message from Antoine; finally a picture…his bike chain…no longer on the bike…

7:35 a.m.: Suspense… Matthieu, Thomas, Tonio and myself (Luce) are already on the station platform. We buy coffee and pastries for the whole colony. We watch out of the corner of our eyes to see if the bad student decides to show up.

7:40 a.m.: Antoine finally arrives! Bike repaired and arms raised. “You really are a black cat Antoine” “We didn’t believe it anymore!”

7:44 a.m.: Zou, we’re boarding the train of wonders.

The bikes are hung next to each other. Never before have so manyPaulas together: Blue, pink, white, more white and pink! We are almost moved but above all super excited about the day ahead.

9:15 a.m.: We arrive at Breil-sur-Roya, departure from which can be described as a very nice climb. On the program, a very generous little D+ up to the summit of Authion. Attention we are telling you about our favorite of the region. A day to feast your eyes and eyes, at the gates of Mercantour.

9:16 a.m.: Shouldn't we have a little coffee at the station before hitting the slopes? Coffees for everyone and a few syrups to quench our thirst.

9:29 a.m.: It’s gone! We take the road towards the Col de Brouis then we turn right to get closer to the mountain. The bitumen turns into a path; It's starting to be interesting.

From then on I lost sense of time. First bouts of fatigue for some who are more accustomed to the Bordeaux hills.

We pass around a few sweets. We fill the cans at the last fountain. And above all, we don't miss the opportunity to take some sensational photos at the corner of a bend or on a big rock.

So far it's a good laugh, it's sweating in the sun and it's showing its hair...

12:30 p.m.: We have made good progress but the best part remains ahead of us. At the crossroads of the four paths we decide to attack our snack. A strategic place to take a variation of the climb, admire the view and above all rest at the small forest refuge.

Everyone spreads out and unwraps their sandwich: Thomas on the low wall leaning against the beam and questioning his life choices, Tonio and Antoine at the table under the shelter and Matthieu and me on the roof, legs in the void, mouths full.

1:12 p.m.: It starts again as best it can in the clouds. From the bright sunshine of the departure photos, we slide towards an opaque fog and a k-way please.

In the mist, a herd of sheep comes down from the hill in front of us. Behind them, their guardians; two wet and shaggy patous who blend into the decor. We do not seem to disturb them and continue our ascent.

The view is blocked. I pass on the wonders and waaa it's beautiful, amazing even if there must be a few jokes that resonate.

At the end of the path, the bitumen. Two choices are available to us: to the right to go up to the summit (that's the goal) or to the left, shortened with a slight downward slope. It pisses against a tree, bites into a bar; Give me a candy!

OK, let's go ? This will be option one, we go up of course.

It's the first time for Tom and Antoine, they absolutely have to go to the top!

The higher you go, the more you see... nothing, nothing.

Hey, are you there?

Some people are pissed about it but out of solidarity we will keep their names quiet. We will just say that for one of us the questions about life choices are all the more relevant…

Finally, we are all there, at the summit of Authion. One last little bit to go to the fort for Matt, Antoine and Luce; click, a souvenir photo!


It's time to start the descent as a nice heavy cold rain falls on us.

After a few turns, we reach the Col de Turini to shelter in a café.

We're not the only ones looking for shelter. We are already soaked after barely 6 terminals of descent.

We lay out our clothes and off we go for 1, 2, 3 rounds of coffee, chocolate, soda and pancakes!

Thomas, our Bordeaux resident who is rather negatively challenged as soon as things climb for too long, decides to break his PEL to buy two very kitsch sweatshirts for himself and his son in a shop for rally-loving tourists just to have a souvenir of this day epic.

Ah, someone whispers in my ear that not at all but that in fact his loaves were seriously curdling and that the 10 sheets of paper towel stolen from the restaurant toilets would probably not be enough to ensure a descent for a time that was not very comfortable . So in war as well as in war, Tom looked like a Michelin bibendum but he was very warm.

An hour passes but not the rain.

Another tour, the last.

Then it's good, it's time to go. Tonio takes out the credit card like a lord...beep, beep, it doesn't go through! That's done.

Come on guys, let's go! We don't take off our rain jacket, we're not crazy.

Descent to the house; a bit of road and hop we join a track in our top 3 at the end of the ride. But instead of going down happily at full speed Antoine finds the good idea to hit his rim (trying to show off) and cause what we call a nice slow puncture, on the side.

Improvised mechanics workshop on the way. Matt pulls out all the stops; a pretty Chrome Industries Tech Pouch with the little tools that go well.

Everyone watches over the damaged wheel and some pose on the path. Which also makes for great photos, because yeah we like to collect memories.

It looks good, fingers crossed and we get back on the track. A long descent and a few quick stops to re-inflate the damaged wheel made us make an exceptional decision (given the circumstances): jump on the Escarène train to return to Nice city.

A first for the club, true!

On the station platform, a new workshop is being organized with lighting of a fuse to plug the hole... it will last along the English promenade.

After a busy day, the bikes are hung once again on the train and our wet asses rest on the folding seats. At the Terminus, some meet to share a last pitcher of red and a plate at the Bistrot. Thomas lives again. We had an epic day

Health...but not feet!


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