dimanche, juillet 11, 2010

Velo, vers l'eau...(11/7)


Routing: (Geneva / Chene-Bougeries / Chene-Bourg / Gaillard / Annemasse / Vetraz-Monthoux / Cranves-Sales / Viuz-en-Sallaz / St Jeoire / Mieussy / Flerier / Les Gets / Morzine)
Yet another wonderful but tough journey, and in this occasion an energy-consuming but eco-friendly means to participate in a cycling trip along the trail of Tour de France. Stage 8 of this year's tournament kicked start the first mountainous routing near the Switzerland border in the Rhone-Alps region, where I could viably follow the itinerary and ride on the route from Geneva centre. In order to stay way ahead of the players, I started my journey early in the Sunday morning. With my heavily basic and lo-fi city bike (or proclaimed by somebody as a 'classic' bicycle), the journey commenced smoothly, and with an expectation to climb up the mountain, I tried to keep my pace at a stable and manageable manner to attempt my 5-hr anticipated ride and reach the summit before 13h. The scenery along the road was magnificently like an extended moving painting in real terms. I started to catch some other audience practitioners from Vetraz-Monthoux area. The jerseys other cyclists wore coloured the path and since a very long time I finally felt a sense of recognition about cycling, and then scattered cycling partners started to joined me to challenge the sloppy journey from Mieussy. As a joyful event, residence of the region tried their different means to show respect to the mountain climbers. Gardening red and white flowers were used to make decorative maillot a pois rouges along the roadside, in addition to other bicycle-related slogans and messages. The yellow messages on the slope illustrated the French style of cheers and notions. Supporters arrived and set their beings with caravans, sun-bath towel, umbrellas, ringing bells, picnic tables etc. on both sides of the route, and every time when cyclists passed by them, a whole-heartedly expression of appreciation was given to the sportsmen, and then the spirit of Tour de France was passed to the next level on the slope.
The very sunny weather heated up the road, and it was a tough up-moving exercise for all the amateurs. I struggled much to raise my every level of altitude from the basic step, but a collective move became much of a motivation for cyclists and people with a bike on the way to carry on the hardship and perhaps still a self-esteemed glory-to-be. With my additional loading of the SLR camera, the unbearable lightness of being viewed by Kundera became a gorgeous flying move perceived by me. I added my weight to the reversed gravity and at the end of the tunnel, it was totally beautiful being on the summit. My parents called upon a stay on the top of the summit, and this was a metaphorical existence I have therefore breathed and sensed.
The French way of propaganda in the sports activities is lovely. A publicity parade hosted by the lane-long ad-wrapped vehicle troop commercialised the tournament in a receptive manner, and the freebies intensified the festive mood of the audience. Subsequent with the accidents occurred in the first half of the race, the champion arrived at Morzine at around 16h, and joined with the clamps and the praises, the day ended gracefully. The passion I found from the spectators in front of the TV report session lifted me a wind-breaking ride back to Geneva.

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