July 26: My cousin James and I would stand on the dock at our cottage assessing whether the wind was strong enough to be boardsailing. We were adept enough that without a strong wind, it just wasn’t challenging enough to justify rigging up and going out; we needed sustained whitecaps. And so, this morning, I found myself considering a trip over Mt. Ventoux, a very well-known stage of the Tour de France and the tallest mountain in this vicinity.
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he issue is that the mistral has been blowing for the last 3 days. I would guess that the average speed is 35 to 40 km/hr and the gusts more like 60 km/hr. Being on the north side of the village, my little apartment (toward the right edge of the village in this picture) has been taking its’ full force. Cracks around the front door have been howling, and it’s impossible to open any of the windows for fear of them smashing against the wall. I’m told that the belfry of the church is made of wrought iron so it is easier for the wind to pass through, although that may be a story for gullible tourists…
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he top of Ventoux is open and exposed. There’s nowhere to hide and the prospect of being on a motorcycle in a 60 km/hr cross-wind less than thrilling. So I elected a trip to the north of the mountain, through the Ouveze and Toulourenc river valleys. It’s wonderfully scenic country, with many towns suspended in unlikely places. (This picture is of Brantes, with Mt. Ventoux in the background.)
Since I still have 3 days remaining, I will continue to figuratively stand on the end of the dock and consider my options while watching the whitecaps in my wine. For now though, it’s just too windy.