Spanish Pyrenees/Pass between Spain and France




He was probably in his mid twenties and he was traveling fast. He had a big smile on his face and his hair was streaming behind him in the wind that his downhill run was creating. As he passed me he turned and shouted Allez! Allez!, which, pronounced Allay! Allay!, is the classic cyclists’ word of encouragement and camaraderie. I managed to grunt out a half-hearted responsive Allez to him, but just barely—and only one. You see I was on my bicycle on the cusp of the hardest part of the uphill climb to the col (summit) from which he was descending, the col de Peyresourde, one of the famous cols traversed often by the Tour de France. Brian and I had chosen our route from Barcelona to Brittany with one purpose being to cross one or more of these famous cols and that is what we were doing.

Looking back from the top of the Col de Peyresourde

As the young smiling rider passed me I once again faced the profound question—Why am I doing this? The day was warm, the climb had already been long and grueling and I had far to go to reach the top. I had chosen this route, paid money to fly to Barcelona, and was taking time I could spend in other ways, and all to face what was one of several torturous days in the Pyrenees. My encourager was in his twenties, I am facing 64 years old at my next birthday. He was free of any gear besides his bike, and I was carrying all the gear I would need for three weeks cycling. He was fit and trim and I was only hoping to get somewhere close to that as the days would proceed. I was hurting and he was smiling. Why am I doing this?

French Countryside
Fast forward now to two weeks later. It is a perfect autumn day and Brian and I are cycling along the south bank of the Loire River. The river itself is not visible most of the time, but farms and fields and forests are all around us, and the colors of autumn are beginning to show. There is a slight breeze at my back and the skies are brilliant blue and the air crisp but not cold. There is no pain and no torturous path awaiting me, all day will be like this. And with this day my earlier question is answered. With this day the earlier climb makes sense, and with this day the whole comes into focus.

And that focus is not simply that the idyllic days make up for the painful ones, or that it is worth enduring the hardship as a necessary adjunct to the pleasant, but rather it is that the different parts that make the whole so rich. At the end of the trip some of the suffering will fade and the reality of having made it to the top—and on for weeks longer—will be as rewarding a memory as the recollections of the tranquil days nearly effortlessly cycling through the fields of France. The views from the top of high passes to the valleys below will be as memorable as the vast fields of sunflowers and corn drying in the fading sunlight. The easy and the hard, the beautiful and the not so beautiful, the verdant and the dry, the suffering and the pleasure, it is all part of the journey, and all together it makes the trip so much richer.

Brian Enjoys a French Snack

And that is like life, and particularly the life of the believer. It is the whole which, when seen as part of the journey of faith, makes it so rich. It is the hard and the easy, the painful and the pleasurable, all together, when seen as part of God’s call and God’s path, that form a collage of beauty and worth. It is the cross and the crown that come as a package, that together make up the stuff of the abundant life that Jesus said he came to bring. And it is the recognition of this that causes us to keep on in our journey of faith—and even pray for the strength for more, even to plan another trip over new mountains and through new meadows…

French B & B

I have just returned to Greensboro for a week before heading off to Albania next thursday. Difficulties in accessing computers in France prevented reports from the road on the cycle trip referred to here, but here is a bit of what happened on the road from Barcelona to London.....

Fields, Forests and Farms of South-West France


French Castle Turned B&B