Month: August 2015

After a hostel-prepared breakfast, I headed up to visit the church at the top of the hill. Thanks to Adrien’s tour the night before, I identified this church as one of several places to visit during the day before I left Lyon. The hostel agreed I could leave my fully-loaded bike until the afternoon, so I didn’t have to bike up The Hill.

Historically, whenever a crisis threatens Lyon, the people of Lyon pray to St. Mary, and promise when she averts the crisis they’ll build a church. They built Our Lady of Fourviere Basilica in response to her protection of the city during the Franco-Prussian War. The ruins of a Roman theatre rest outside the basilica.

After the basilica, I found myself atop the city. A tram quickly brought me back to the heart of the city, and I wandered my way to the Musee Des Beaux-Arts. No particular piece struck me, just a general reminder that Lyon holds a very strong Christian heritage, reflected in much of the art in the museum.

I still needed a map of France, so I pulled up bookstores on my GPS, and headed to the two closest. In France bookstores don’t generally carry maps, and I regularly see that regions of a country have local information, but not the larger picture or other regions. On the way to the third bookstore, I stopped in a tobacco shop for a SIM for the phone, but the micro-format my phone uses meant more directions to another store, which I fail to find. I still need to convert my remaining Swiss francs to Euros, but delayed due to terrible exchange rates. I did pull more cash from an ATM; even with high adoption of credit cards in France, cash is still king.

With everything visited or attempted, I headed back up to the hostel. As I made the final turn to the hostel, I passed a shop which looked like a bookstore / newsstand, and picked up a national and regional map of France. From there I headed out of Lyon.

I could see the cycle path on the GPS, but no signage along the road. I made the usual slow process out of town. After 10 km I went for my banana to find the key to my hostel room in my handle bar bag. Not adding 20 km to my day to take the key back; I wonder how that will work out.

The Rhone finally having carved out a decent valley, most of the day avoided elevation change. While I had cycle lane for most of the day, not until 20 km out of Lyon did I have my own path, and not until 33 km out of town did I find the first sign for the cycle path I followed. But thereafter the paths followed back roads and dedicated cycle path.  All day I had a slight tailwind and a gradual downward slope. I’m finally following a cycle path in the right direction.

While not actively seeking castles today, I ran across a ruin on one side of the river, and this (closed) castle on my side. Tomorrow I’ve identified a few locations that might be interesting on my way into Valence.

As I approached the town with the planned end-of-day campground 50 km from Lyon, I considered jumping forward to the next campground an additional 10 km. Then I realized. I don’t have anywhere I have to be. I have to be in Dublin Sept. 30, and I’d like to visit a friend in Pau, which has to be after Sept. 1.

For the first time in a long time, I have no agenda but cycling and visiting castles. I stopped. Max warned me that pricing for the campgrounds ahead varied wildly, so I knew to confirm the price before settling in, but $9 meant ending cycling for the day. Back to camping on the side of a river instead of a lake.

I spent part of the evening poring over my new maps, gaining a better perspective on France, and lining things up with cycle paths in France. From Avignon I will likely leave the Rhone, and head towards Nimes and Montpelier, and then along the coast for a while.

The aftermath of the rain lingers on. Last night raging winds blustered through the campground most of the night. I worried about rain, even with clear skies, but the morning brought cold weather, not rain. Took longer than usual to break camp, as the temptation to snuggle in my sleeping bag won out. In leaving camp I made the classic mistake of not refilling my water, but realized within 20′ of the campground.

Still with no paper map of France, I puzzled out the course of the Rhone and the cycle path, with the cycle path being 140 km to Lyon, and the GPS clocking in at 70 km. I like a cycle path almost as much as the next guy, but have more traffic tolerance than EV 17, and less tolerance for 2x the distance. I cut across the mountains, holding mostly to smaller roads. I tolerate mountain climbing better in mornings as well; downhill at the end of the day suits me just fine. Hills and detailed mapping across multiple small roads and intersections made early progress slow. 

Today I found only one castle/chateaux/ruin today – inaccessible.

The first time this trip I’ve forced my way into a major city without a cycle path, the last 10 km outside of town provided more traffic than I wanted until the outskirts of Lyon, where cycle path lead me into the city. With no nearby camping, and the first hostel full, they redirected me to a second hostel, “up the hill”. Ouch.

They required me to renew my IYH membership, but I’ve been meaning to do that anyway.

Back in June I’d messaged Adrien, a kayaker from Lyon I met several years ago at a kayaking event. I heard back from him on Monday, and with some back and forth messaging over the past few days, managed to meet up with him this evening. He gave me a tour off the town, and we went out for dinner at a salmon restaurant downtown. It was great to catch up with Adrien again. He’s going to find himself a regular tour guide at this rate; only a few weeks ago he hosted another local NC kayaker.

Every so often I hear snide comments about the French, and my experience does not bear those comments out. My secret perhaps? First, the magic of being a cycle tourist. But also not asking people if they speak English and acting like an American. Instead, asking if they speak a little English, and starting with, “I’m sorry, I only speak English”. Makes the world of difference.

After a final gear reconciliation and general repacking, Andrew headed to the train station, and I headed to the Rhone. Andrew and I followed EuroVelo 17 part way around the lake, and I plan to follow EV17 down to the Mediterranean. I reviewed the map before I left the hostel, and realized EV17 doesn’t directly follow the Rhone. I’ve grown accustomed to the Donau, as well as the Aare and Wutach, with a cycle path generally alongside the river. The cycle path for the Rhone did not, which bodes poorly. I spent a lot of the day with a mountain pass visible in front of me off in the distance, while climbing up and down the sides of mountains.

As I headed out of town, I turned around. A clicking noise in the bottom bracket started a few days ago, and given Geneva’s expense, planned to wait until France to have someone figure out what’s going on. I realized it could be a few days until a major city, and if something is being damaged I should at least find out what. A bike shop took a quick look, and said it’s likely a bearing in the pedal or bottom bracket, but that everything appears tight, so it should be ok. They were too busy to be able to work on it today, so I headed out, at least having done the due diligence. I’ve tried all sorts of things to narrow down the issue, and ways to to stock the metronome-like clicking. Today I finally found one thing to mitigate the noise – going full-tilt. The harder I pedal, the less noise. Could be spending more time moving faster.

The challenge of leaving Geneva by EV17 was eclipsed by the challenges of following EV17, and the difficulty of EV 17 itself. I spent almost an hour getting truly out of Geneva, and EV1 proved quite difficult. The first 60 km today took most of the day. Roads don’t directly follow the Rhone in many cases (a good indicator of how mountainous the region), and between he climbing and trying to be sure I didn’t lose the route I grew frustrated. In those circumstances the tailwind didn’t help much.

I intended to visit Fort L’Ecluse, but that meant routing to the other side of the Rhone on a very busy highway for a long way. I passed up the opportunity, but had lunch across the river with a scenic view. The fort looked more like a WWII fortress, so I’m glad I didn’t add the distance.

It wasn’t until about 3:30 pm that I arrived at a long flat section on a canal, and made more rapid progress, reaching my third and final planned campground about 4:30 pm. With the next campground 30 km away, I was tempted to stop for the day. But a tailwind and the potential for a long flat run temped me away. I still had energy and daylight.

Withing the first 5 km I realized I made a mistake. The first 60 km took more from me than I thought. The rest stop sapped much of my energy, and the road changed back to aggressive climbing. 

5 km later the road changed back to flat, and I started to pick up my pace. As I crossed a tributary and looked back over my shoulder …

I skidded to a stop. After a few pictures, I reviewed the GPS, with the only actual paths up kilometers back, and seemingly over the top of the mountain. I reversed course, and started looking for a more direct path up from below. Finding one, I locked up my bike, grabbed my flashlight, and began my hike up. Unfortunately signs marked the site private and closed, and I spent … a while … determining that the barriers in place showed that they meant it, which aso meant backing up to find the main trail would likely also be fruitless. A Google search shows the castle is part of Chartreuse de Pierre-Châtel, a 14th century monastery.

Not far from there I found my campground. The last campground in Switzerland was $24, plus $5 for four hours of Wi-Fi. This campground in France? $5 with wi-fi. A bit of an aberration even so, as I’m in the middle of nowhere about halfway to Lyon, but a welcome change. About eight tries later we got my Wi-Fi working; while I’m used to my command of spoken French slowing me down, the French method of writing letters meant multiple attempts at Registration to figure out the written differences in some of the characters

While my odometer reset on me today, last indications were roughly 130 km, a new distance record.

All of this room in my tent…

Waking in Lausanne, Andrew wandered off for coffee while I packed up the tent. The GPS showed 60 km to Geneva, plus the usual variation for sights, sites, and trying to re-find the cycle path.

We planned to follow Cycle Path 1, to stay off the major roads and increase the odds of Andrew’s survival. CP 1 should also follow the lake, which means it’s flat. We then continued to spend a lot of the day planning to follow CP1, with varying degrees of success. 

Our first unexpected castle/chateux today was pretty on the outside, but not open to the public.

We both enjoyed the next castle in Morges. An unfortunate explosion in the 19th century destroyed much of the interior, and the chateaux now serves are four separate museums: tin soldiers, gendarmerie, World War II in Switzerland, and a cannon display. Also a scale ship model. 

The remainder of the day we worked our way around the lake, with CP1 dropping us down to each town, and then back up the site of the mountain to keep us off major roads, until the next town. By mid-afternoon we mostly had a lock on CP1 and stuck with it. Mostly pleasant countryside cycling with occasional side of highway (with a cycle lane) more intense interludes.

Upon arrival at the hostel, I checked the kitchen for my poor, lost utensils, and found my fork. The spoon, sadly, nowhere to be seen. I also found that the kitchen, while having pots and plates, has no shared silverware. To the person with my spoon, take care of it; it’s likely traveled farther than you.

We picked up Andrew’s gear stored at the train station and dropped off Andrew’s rental bike, caught dinner at a local pub, and returned to the hostel. Much of the rest of the evening we reorganized gear between Andrew and myself, made sure I had all of the jars of peanut butter and nut bars, swapped out some gear, and gave Andrew a few miscellaneous things to carry home.

200 km around Lac du Leman, Andrew’s vacation of trekking in the Alps and cycling comes to an end; mine begins a new chapter in France. I next head to Lyon, down the Rhone to the Mediterranean and Montpelier, over to Narbonne and Carcassonne, then up to Toulouse, Pau, Bordeux, and then a ferry to Ireland.

All, of course, subject to change.

Untangling ourselves from the tent, Andrew and I packed up (with Andrew carrying the extra peanut butter) and headed out. Finding the local supermarket proved more challenging and one-directional than planned, but eventually we headed up, ominous weather notwithstanding, but still well-supplied with peanut butter and nut bars.

With the revised revised plan to cycle entirely around Lac du Leman, we expected to follow the shore of the lake (as it should be flat), and if that proved too monotonous, head a bit up into the mountains. The cycle paths appeared to stop at the border between France and Switzerland, which I attributed to the difference in mapping between countries. Instead, the lack of indicated cycle paths mostly derived from: a) a lack of cycle paths, and b) steep hills. The two slowed our progress, and working to stay off major roads on many mountain minor roads meant frequent navigational checks, and roads got worse before they finally started to improve when we crossed back into Switzerland and crossed back onto real cycle path.

Coming around the end of the lake, Chateux de Chillon sits on a small island, guarding a critical pass into Italy. After the excessive tourists in Yvoire, I wondered how touristic the chateaux would be. While near the end Swiss scouts and Chinese tourists swarmed us, trapping us at the top of the single-wide stairs, the day was inside tolerable norms. I had not expected much, but the chateaux mostly retained the original form (mangled by the course of history), and while they had defined a path through the castle, we could mostly wander as we wished. Two thumbs up.

The question remained whether we could finish the day’s ride to Lausanne. Coming full circle we returned to the campground in Lausanne I left only a few days ago. Availing ourselves of the free public transport, after a lot of searching we found a restaurant in town that satisified all the requirements for dinner. I had some dish that made of lamb and plums which surprised me – I truly enjoyed it.

Still hoping to find my fork and spoon. Found a fork along the way today.

After a morning of reviewing tourist information and local maps, I headed to the train station, to read my book while I waited.

Success! Andrew met me in front of the station, and we walked around the station to the bike store. An hour outside the train station refitting the bike, swapping around gear, and figuring out what to do with the two jars of peanut butter and 17 nut bars Marnie sent along with Andrew, and we set off.

Except for my propensity on the way out of the city to select one-way streets, no issues on the way out of Geneva. We found a tower during the day, with a sign saying that nearby someone would let us in, but never found them. The next stop, the city of Yvoire, which I found in a tourist brochure as being a medieval city, was jam-packed with tourists, and we couldn’t even visit the chateux.

Being Sunday, we encountered difficulties finding an open supermarket, but we picked up enough to last through the day. Then, inclement weather threatening, I picked up the pace as we raced to the campground, rain intermittently showering us. Once we were at the campground, the rain of course stopped.

In cooking dinner, I realized I’d left my fork and spoon at the hostel last night after washing them. I’m bummed. I’m not normally sentimental, but like only a few other items, they have toured with me every trip. I also had started to think that I was done leaving gear strewn randomly across Europe. And, of course, now I don’t have a spoon or fork. I ate my pasta with the knife, reminding me of an old rhyme:
I eat my peas with honey;
I’ve done it all my life.
It makes the peas taste funny,
but keeps them on my knife.

We made good progress today – 50 km. I initially planned to tour all the way around Lac du Leman, but since decided the distance around the lake too far for the time available. The GPS shows Chateux de Chillon (our next stop tomorrow) is only 35 km, and only 75 km from here to Lausanne, the next stop along the way. Geneve only sits 60 km from Lausanne, and I’ve made that ride, making the trip from here a reasonable ride of 135 km in two days. The weather forecasts vary wildly; we just need the weather to be vaguely reasonable.

After dinner we wandered about, passed up a putt-putt course, and found the local beach, as well as the rain, now drizzling at saturation level. Hopefully that will pull the rain out of the system. To bed once we figure out how to put two people in a two-person tent.

Just realized I just made reservations at the same hostel I stayed at in Geneva for the 18th, the night before Andrew heads out. There’s the remote chance my spoon and fork will still be there. Fingers crossed.

And super powers. Still waiting.

I sleep better in a tent. After waking several times in the night, I headed down for breakfast and figuring out the day. Browsing the ‘Net for tourist info in Geneva provided a rough tourist agenda and route, as well as having some cyclist tasks of my own. Returning to the room Bill (an Australlian cyclist I met yesterday and introduced to OSMAnd+) was just waking up, but snapped to when I let him know he has 12 minutes before breakfast ended.

The Plaine de Plainpalais had an open-air flea market, which I caught early enough vendors were still setting up.

I walked to the Parc du Bastion nearby, and the Reformation Wall within. From there another short walk to St. Pierre Cathedral, plain even by Presbyterian standards, and hard to photograph surrounded by other tall buildings. Down hill I visited the Jet d’Eau (visible from all over the city, and even on the cycle in), a fountain in the harbor inspired by a water line break. In front of the fountain I also found the Flower Clock, a tourist attraction I wondered the location.

Having run through my immediate list, I headed to Tourist Information for a map of cycle routes, and directions to a camping store. The identified camping store turned out to be a bicycle shop – a error in translation. Near yet another Tourist Information, I asked again, leading me back to the Plaine de Plainpalais.That camping store closed earlier at 12:30 pm on Saturdays. I decided to take a different route back, and found another camping store a block down the street. Serendipity.

Within, the store had the fuel, but out of stock; they only had the demo. Concerned the demo fuel might be used, they offered a $1 discount. I’d shaken the fuel for quantity, but who am I to argue a discount? I had expected the fuel to be quite expensive, but at $5 I was more than happy. Still concerned, the salesman took the fuel to a restaurant next door to weigh it just in case. The Swiss, what can you do? I asked about sil-nylon dry bags, and the saleman helpfully directed me to yet another store, back on the other side of Plaine de Plainpalais.

My panniers are not water-proof. I line them with lightweight trash bags, and when the bags tear up I replace them. That process fails only rarely, even in sustained downpour. I carry a spare set of trash bags, which I can also use to cover the panniers externally. That setup weighs considerably lighter than full-on waterproof panniers, and cheaper. More maintenance, but also more repairable.

As I move out of tourist season in Europe, I’m going to see more and more rain, as the on-and-off rain the past four days can attest. I’m feeling more conservative, so picked up one sil-nylon bag for my pannier that holds clothes, and another smaller one to replace the decaying dry bag on my down sleeping bag. These should serve as a middle-ground, balancing weight and risk.

Having completed everything on my immediate tourist and cyclist lists, I headed to the CERN super collider. Located well outside of town, I arrived to find the display closed for renovation until 2016. I wandered about a bit, but not much to see. Still, what better way to end up with super-powers than wandering outside of a super collider display that’s under construction? Fingers crossed.

Next to the United Nations building on the other side of town, and closed, missing the opening time by about five minutes. Still worth it. Super powers. Still waiting.

Tomorrow begins a brand new day.

Rain woke me a couple of times during the night, and I woke to rain in the morning. I ate breakfast, and pondered how the day should go. The rain from the day before soaked my cycling clothes, unimproved from the rain all night. Two days out from when I needed to be in Geneva but only 60 km, I could wait and hope the weather improved; I had until noon to check out. I could adopt Carsten’s suggestion and take a boat, with another option the train. Then I dithered about, waiting to see what might change. The forecast called for rain today, and tomorrow as well. The rain eventually stopped, but still threatened with occasional sprinkles.

I finally decided I’d been trying too long to get to Geneva on time; waiting in Lusanne another day left me one day to get there. Funny that I fretted about how to get to Geneva, 60 km away, in a day, when I went from Vienna to Brasov and back in 24 hours. Perhaps I didn’t want to repeat the experience? I packed everything up, including my dry inside but soaking wet outside tent, and other wet articles, and headed out of the campground north for the harbor.

You know, the weather’s looking better.

I don’t really want to take a  boat to Geneva; this is a bike trip.

If it starts to rain, the path to Geneva has bus stops and other places to hide.

And buses. And trains. And boats. And campgrounds. 

The route is on a lake, so flat. I can do 60 km standing on my head at this point.

I turned the bike around, and headed to Geneva. I pushed hard; the weather still threatening.

Wait, what’s that? A decoy.

If I slowed down, the rain would sprinkle me as a reminder. If I sped up, I could barely get to sunshine. By the end of the day I could see the rain on the other side of the lake, paralleling my path but slightly behind. I rolled into Geneva around 2pm, still dry.

Shortly thereafter I readily found the hostel, which seemed an easier and drier choice than the campground 5 km outside of town. After settling in, I binged on free, fast Internet access for the first time in many days, and then headed out for dinner and recon. I found the main train station near the hostel, where I’m to meet Andrew, and the bike rental shop where we need to pick up his bike. I updated the GPS and sent Andrew reference photos. On the way to the train station I also passed a couple of supermarkets.

I also reviewed cycle paths near Geneva, and still wonder why they end shortly after moving further counter-clockwise around Lake Geneva. I’ve got the Swiss Mobility App (which has all the cycle paths) but hopefully I can get a cycle map tomorrow at Tourist Information. The hostel costs more than my usual daily “budget”, but at least breakfast is included. Besides the usual touristy stuff to visit, I’ll update my groceries, and hopefully pick up more fuel for the stove, finally running low. I don’t have an agenda for Andrew besides “cycle”; we’ll figure it out.

I’ve made it to Geneva. Hard to believe I’m actually here, after heading this way for so long. I’m looking forward to wandering about in Geneva tomorrow, secure that I have nowhere to go. I’m looking forward to cycling with Andrew. I’m looking forward to resuming a path with no deadlines for a while. I’m looking forward to visiting with my (former) coworker in France. I’m looking forward to cycling in Ireland. I’m looking forward to coming home, and seeing family and friends. I’m looking forward to whatever life brings next.

I can’t think of a better place to watch meteors that laying in a field on a crystal clear night in the Swiss mountains. Up way too late, telling myself, “just one more meteor”, I finally feel asleep watching the sky through the door of my tent.

That said, I didn’t sleep all that well, and decamped by 9 am. A very rapid descent into Yverdon followed by taking cycle path 5/22 to Lausanne. When the path forked, I followed 22, as Max warned via email that Path 5 wandered all over the place through fields. 22 being an alternate local route didn’t wander as much, but took a straighter, closer to the mountains, up and down approach. I eventually broke away from 22 to find a supermarket, and then just followed whatever road lead down towards Lausanne.

With a hostel in Lausanne, I thought I’d change things up a bit, but as the hostel was a) full, and b) $50-$70, I’m camped again on a lake at the campground only a few blocks away. Arriving before lunch, I set up camp, ate lunch, and headed into town. Lausanne gives all visitors free public transport, so I grabbed a bus to city center to visit the local churches and museum.

Sitting on the shore of the lake, I finally found an open hotspot. The last few places offering free wi-fi (including the free Lausanne public wi-fi), require registration, where a code is sent via SMS to your local phone number. Not having a local phone number, and only SMS via Google Voice once I have Internet access, makes registering for most free wi-fi (including my go to standard – McDonalds) impossible.

Poor connectivity meant I could just barely message Marnie. Off in the distance, I could see a storm rolling in across Lac Leman. With the first real crack of thunder, a pigeon crapped on my head.

Washing my shirt and head in a local fountain, I found I wasn’t the only person to have encountered that problem. Fortunately my hi-tech wool t-shirt really does provide warmth when wrung dry. The storm continued to roll in, and I retreated to Tourist Information. Winds ripped limbs from branches and pushes waste bins down the street, with the driving rains soaking  the passersby for over an hour, leaving me wondering about the campsite.

When I expect bad weather, I’m super-vigilant about setting up the tent, and leave the gear sealed up. Given that when I set the tent up I had clear skies and scorching weather, I’d left everything spread out in the tent to let the heat bake out any moisture. Little I could do from the other side of town, so I went ahead and grabbed dinner, and then headed back. The winds abated, but rain continued to fall. My shirt, mostly dried by that point, back to damp again as I walked back.

Back at the campground the tent at least still standing, but covered with leaves, and broken off limbs. I unzipped the tent, to find everything absolutely and completely dry. I love this tent.

Today started slow and casual, with no intent but drifting further down the lake shore. I reached Neuchatel in short order, with an unimpressive chateux. While rummaging through their tourist information, I found a “Cycling and E-Biking Paradise” brochure, with maps of various cycle paths, and the path “In the land of the fairies, you quietly follow an easy pathway along the course of the Areuse – perfect for families”, however that path ends where I would start, and leads up into the Alps. Follow a cycle path backwards into the mountains?

Calculation showed I was going to arrive at my target campground today around 2 pm, and then spend the day swimming in the lake and reading, the exact same thing I’d done the day before. Cycling a long day towards Geneva appeals to me, but then I’m in Geneva. My destination for so long, and I no longer want to get there.

I spent a while on the GPS and map making sure I could find a path back out from the source of the Areuse (instead of reversing my course). As the path follows the Areuse from Boutry to the source in Fleurier, I knew I’d have to climb up to get out of the valley at the end, and then hopefully a single gradient back down. From Fleurier, the second third of today’s excursion to St. Croix looked reasonable, and then switchbacks for a very long way. The switchbacks daunted me for a while, until I realized that what goes up must eventually come down. The result would be exactly where I’d planned to end for the day anyway, with a more interesting day of cycling.

The path in Boudry led me directly to a chateaux, now a wine museum. The museum didn’t open until 2 pm, but I at least enjoyed the ambiance with lunch in the courtyard.

With the lake elevation of 450 meters, a climb to get to the end of the trail, and then a climb to get to the head of the trail, the day could well be challenging. Today I had the elevation profile as a guide.

Upon reaching Flourier, the road to St. Croix followed another river upstream – more climbing. In the end, that road entailed significantly more climbing, as St. Croix stands at the top of a pass leading from Switzerland to France.

Exhilarated by the climb, I now had but to drop from St. Croix all the way back down to my starting elevation at the lake, 50 km of regularly steep climbing converted to 18 km of down. Concerned about the rapidity of that descent (given no guard rails), I put on my rain jacket and hood, and extended them as a drogue chute to help slow my descent. The jacket worked perfectly; between that and a lot of braking, I barely held my speed around 35 km as I came screaming down off the mountains.

In the end I selected a campground still 6 km up in the mountains instead of returning to the lake. Cheaper as expected, and will start tomorrow off with a rapid descent to the lake before beginning another climb to Lausanne. While not speaking any English, arranging one night with the campground host resolved with no difficulty. He also brought me fruit from his orchard.

Tonight is the first night in a very long time I’m in a campground with no cyclists. I passed a number of cyclists on the way up to Fleurier, but apparently none crazy enough to go all the way up to St. Croix. The description of that path could have included things like, “If your brakes fail, you will plunge off the side of a mountain” and “you will pass mountain goats that look tired”. I climbed 700 meters today (plus at least another 200 meters after losing the elevation from descents), and then came back down, just because I could. Awesome day.