French TET Day 2

Tonight we'll wild camp, though we didn't know it yet.
On the subject of camping, my mattress has 'air' in its name, which suggests soft, but I'd definitely not describe it as such (Plank).  it works pretty well with the 'mummy' sleeping bag and at least I fit both. Jason and I both heard the other snoring during the night, which speaks ... erm,  volumes for the kit.

We were up at 8, cold, and having luke warm showers.  Wearing all my clothes again I mounted the bike like the Michelin Man.   We picked a hilly, sweeping road to take us back to the TET via Carcassonne.

Great views along the way with vineyards and farmlands stretching as far as you can see. The further we travelled the warmer the weather got.

Carcassonne was chosen as they had a Yamaha dealer and Jason wanted the WRR clutch checking. We arrived at 12:15 just 15mins into their 2hr lunch break. (Lazy bastards)  Fortunately  that gave us time check the bikes over. The WRR was checked and corrected for a power issue and Jason found the source of the odd noise on my DRZ! It was the bash plate resonating, not the gear box or anything more sinister!  Honestly, I could have hugged him - he said he'd fuck my gear box up if I did, so I left it there and removed the bash plate instead.

Clutch couldn't be fixed, but lever was adjusted, advice was given, new goggles purchased and we were off.

The next hour and half we travelled along some of the tet and up some French Col's (mountain passes)
The roads were tiny the views stunning.

Stopping for fuel and supplies at a Carrefour supermarche in 'Saint Paul de fenouilett' we agreed to ride south along the tet route until the sun was setting.  The next couple of hours were adventure biking bliss. 

We were almost at the Spanish border as the shadows grew longer and we started looking for somewhere to camp. It was late, we were in a remote wilderness and wild camping was the easiest option. Finding a spot just outside a national park about 800m above sea level we setup camp.
Now it should be noted that I hate mosquitoes, Indeed i am allergic to thier bite, so it was with great delight and relief that I watched Jason, the Mosquitoe equivalent of an English buffet, setup camp in a 'wife beater' vest and shorts. ( Thanks pal!)
Tonight's sport was killing insects feasting on our blood.

From our campsite vantage point we cooked, ate, watched the sun set and then star gazed in the clear unpolluted alpine skies. All the while talking about where the next few days would lead...