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Rando Cyclo, Sars Poteries, 5 June 2005

by Nick Devonport

Racked with guilt about extending the five-day Sars Poteries break to a week, I hurriedly undertook a couple of large and noticeable projects around the house including painting the garage which had stood in all its grey breeze-block glory for seventeen years.  After knocking together a bike shed into the bargain, my conscience was eased and the 18:15 Speedferries fast craft had me on French soil before you could say knife.

Anyway, there I was, hurtling down the N44 towards Riqueval, where I knew of a canal museum that I had flagged for a visit last year.  Regular readers will know of my enthusiasm for the French canal system and this seemed to be a good opportunity to tick a box on my "Fifty Things To Do Before I Die" list.  Many tourist attractions are indicated on the Autoroutes by large brown signs but I am normally in too much of a rush to catch the ferry home to divert off the motorway to explore them.  On this occasion, however, the Musée du Touage Souterrain de Riqueval was my destination and proved well worth the detour, despite the worsening weather as I headed south on the N44 with the rain hammering on the camper.

The Canal du Nord passes through a 5km tunnel near Riqueval on its way to (or from, depending where you're standing) St Quentin.  Ventilation in the tunnel is inadequate and fumes from the diesel-engined barges can asphyxiate crews - and have done so.  The solution was to install an 8km chain on the floor of the canal and use an electric tug to tow up to ten barges at a time in line astern through the tunnel.  The barge pulls itself through by the chain using electric motors and pulleys, taking its power from an overhead catenary like a trolleybus.  The exhibition is located in one of the first barges, Ampere 1, now located in the grounds of the tourist information centre and is a fascinating place to visit.  There is a very good video (en Anglais s'il vous plait) in the Maison du Pays de Vermandois, named after an ancient tribe that used to run the area.

Monday night was spent at Camping l'Escaut at Honnecourt, right next to the Canal de St Quentin.  The sound track to the night was the slow lazy thump of huge marine diesels powering the enormous barges through the lock, only yards from my head.  Next morning I cut North and East on the arrow-straight D932 towards Felleries via Landrecies and Avesnes, arriving around teatime on the Tuesday.  Millions of Euros are still being spent on the roads around here and a new roundabout had appeared at Beugnies, which tested my reactions and the Sherpa brakes to the limit.  "Bugger me, who put that there?"

I was the first of the British contingent to arrive and set up the van in 'our' corner.  The theme that some of us had planned was to be the NSU Quickly and I had found an S23 on eBay.  (Dave Beare was bringing his 1957 model and Ian McGregor has hoped to bring his machine but had to settle for the James Comet again as the Quickly wasn't quite ready for the road.)  Our corner had been reserved for us, which is just as well as it's a bit tricky to get one wagon into a circle!  The peace and tranquillity of Camping la Boisellerie as the sun began its descent over what I have to admit is now a very scruffy Sherpa had to be experienced to be believed.  It would soon be shattered by the arrival of scores of Rando Cyclo participants and non-combatant hangers-on leaving plumes of two-stroke exhaust in their wakes but, for now, all was quiet.

Dave Casper rolled into town the next day, bringing with him his Honda Dream 50.  Enjoying a beer or three and a good chin wag, we noticed Christian, the site manager, putting bollards and plastic tape through the middle of le coin Anglais.  He explained that the traffic for the boot fair on Sunday would be coming through the site and parking on the football field behind us.  Bloody marvellous.  I've seen some of the local driving and, not wishing the camper to look any scruffier, I had to pack everything up and move a few yards to safety.  Not a happy bunny!

Over the next day or so the rest of Team GB drifted in: Messrs Beare (NSU Quickly), Burton (Suzuki M12), Goodwin (Mobylette AV32), Lawson (VSX 2200), McGregor (James Comet), Lipscomb (Mobylette NT40 and included in the listings as a Frenchman), Norton (Sun Autocycle), Redding (Honda PC50 and Apollo clip-on), Spencer (Mini-Motor), Western (Puch Monza) and a brace of Witchards (VSX 5000 and Mobylette AV89).  A stranger rolled into town on Friday, a Dutch reporter on La Voix du Nord, the local rag.  He had us lined up for a photo call and interviewed us individually about the bikes and the hobby.  Publication day on Saturday saw a stampede to the Felleries newsagent who was at a loss to understand the sudden interest in local culture.  Paul Witchard made Page Seven pin-up.

The Saturday trip to the military surplus store yielded very little in the way of machines despite the fact that we'd beaten the Bromfiets Brigade to it.  A few spares were procured but the useful stuff was notably absent.  They still haven't got the H-van running and the Vespa Triporteur which has my name on it is, as ever, little more that a rolling shell.  For the ride back to the camp Rod and I swapped bikes as he used to own my S23 and his Monza looked like an interesting machine.  It went like a rocket but he declined my offer to resume ownership of the Quickly with a resounding "Not Bloody Likely".  The evening barbecue doesn't get any better but is something you have to do, isn't it?  There's always the chance of spotting the delectable Celine, the object of so many desires for so many of us.

Large quantities of local vin rouge ensured a good night's sleep and the hardy ones were up early on the Sunday for a trawl round the boot fair in the street.  There were a few bargains and I spotted Alan Spencer failing to knock even a centime off a very ornate chain guard for a project back home.  Still a bargain at €3, I reckoned.  Over to Sars Poteries square for the show 'n' shine and a stroll round the autojumble.  One of the Brits (no names, no pack drill) succumbed to a mid-fifties Mobylette with a lovely twin exhaust pipe and the arrival of Michel Humbert in his newly-restored Vitrex Riboud microcar caused a stir.

We sat down for the buffet lunch and had our fortunes told about wearing helmets and riding safely.  This year we were shepherded round the 60km route in an attempt to cut down accidents and keep the stragglers in line.  There were to be no arrows painted on the road so we had to pay attention!  The prize moped, a Laverda 4-stroke in need of a wipe over with an oily rag and some new cables, went to a Dutch guy.

Out on the road the decision to provide an escort proved to be a wise one as the roads were very greasy with rain following a long dry spell making for treacherous conditions on some stretches.  Five riders took tumbles with varying degrees of seriousness, one Dutch lady landing up in hospital with a seriously damaged knee.  We wish her a speedy recovery.  What had started out as a nice Jawa scooter arrived at the half way stop - a ridiculously small bar with too few staff and too long a queue - with an impressive series of scratches as a result of careless riding by its lunatic French owner.  Despite the dangers, the route was well planned and passed through the forest near Eppe Sauvage up near the Belgian border.  This is lovely green cyclemotoring country and all the more enjoyable if said cyclemotoring is done in sympathetic company.

Passing through Hestrud, a stopping point in past years, we saw another casualty of the road conditions as one of the autojumblers had put his lorry through the front wall of the Mairie.  No-one was seriously hurt in this accident but the driver spent a night in the care of the Gendarmes while things were sorted out.

With almost everyone back at the Salle des Fêtes after the run, I noticed a folding Italian Plico moped on offer by the roadside.  I initially resisted the temptation but could hear it calling to me softly from outside.  Being weak-willed, I ended up crossing the palm of the owner and gave it a good home.  After completing the deal and missing most of the prize-giving I returned to the hall to find Dave Casper on the stage clutching a prize for 15 years of attendance (so 10 years count for bugger all, apparently!) and John Lipscomb (he of dual nationality according to the list) providing translation services as the usual translator had accompanied one of the casualties to hospital.  He made a decent fist of it, so to speak, but we will welcome back the more decorative regular on June 11, 2006!

We got the spanners out back at the camping in a race to see who could get their new machines going first.  The Mobylette won and proved to be an excellent buy.  A small tune was played on the Plico but it clearly needed more than field engineering and as I write this it's with my agricultural expert for attention to the 22cc chainsaw engine spark generator.  Third place went to the Laverda which needed some serious TLC on the carburettor front and failed to light up.

In conclusion, a good weekend?  Much like the Curate's Egg, really.  Despite the casualty list, Sars Poteries 2005 was run on as good a course as any in recent years and the company and bikes really made the trip worthwhile.

Next year?  Definitely.

First published, August 2005

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