Baaaaa

On our way down from the Mt Ventoux last week, as we appraoched the end of the ride in Bédoin, we noticed that there were a whole bunch of people lining the sides of the road. We couldn't tell what they were up to, but they were obviously waiting for something.

It was clear they weren't there to cheer us on, mostly because they were looking at us with a sort of quizzical look. We soon figured out that the look was one of, "they don't know what they're headed for, do they?"

As we rounded a corner we could hear cowbells. Since they were placed on donkeys and sheep, are they still cowbells?

Anyway, apparently the sheep have to be moved to various grazing sites. We just happened to be on the route of one of those, uh, cattle drives. Taking the wise course, we pulled off to the side of the road to let everything pass. It didn't matter, they swarmed around us anyway. They didn't knock us over and they certainly weren't going to trample us. But they sure made a racket. The herd must have been a half mile long, and one side of the street to the other.

It was weird feeling how much heat the mass of sheep generated--you could feel the warmth rising up as they passed, and smell it (ugh).

After they passed, we continued on the way to the hotel. We were able to backtrack the route the sheep took by their tell-tale. . . um. . . signs. Fortunately it wasn't raining. In 2006 I rode in the rain on the top of the Col d'Aubisque in the Pyrenees. It's big-time sheep country and they wander freely, including all over the roads. That day the sheep doo, mixed with the rain, made a nice green spray that flew onto, into, and all over everything.