The Via Allier from Langogne to Clermont: a route far from the tourists

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We'd been bored on the bike along the Garonne lateral canal cycle route. Too flat, too easy, not enough scenery. We were looking for a more athletic challenge for our next holiday. Since we now lived in Avignon, we could widen our search a little. We had several criteria for our next bike trip. We wanted climbing, beautiful scenery, access by train, cooler weather and few tourists. You might think we were too demanding, but the beauty of bike travel is that there are as many variables as there are cyclists.

We set our sights on a section of the Via Allier. 455 kilometres long, from Langogne to Nevers, it follows the river of the same name via Clermont-Ferrand. It runs along the Clermont–Nîmes railway, with stations scattered along the route, offering quick escape routes if there's a problem. As for gear, our bikes have changed since last year, as our Hoprider 900s were stolen. We're riding a Kona Rove gravel bike in a magnificent burgundy and a Decathlon Touring 520 designed for long-distance travel. The trailer is still the Chariot Cross Alaska, in which Clémence is perfectly at home. We use it as a pushchair every day, so she's completely used to it.

We leave Avignon on Saturday late afternoon in 40-degree heat. The road to Lozère via Bagnols-sur-Cèze is hard going with a toddler. It's twisty and winding, with very few straight stretches. After three and a half hours on the road, we reach Langogne in the early evening. To our great surprise, it's cold for the season, barely 18 degrees.

We find our accommodation, the Modest'Inn – GR 70, which welcomes walkers on the Stevenson Trail. We eat at the table with a little band of friends in the middle of a long hike. Clémence works her charm with her cute little smiles as always, and Christelle, our host, warns us about a detail we hadn't considered.

It's 6 degrees at 8 in the morning, very cold for the season. Of course we've packed warm clothes, but not winter clothes. Kindly, she brings us one of her old jumpers that has shrunk drastically in the wash. We treasure it.

Day 1

When it's time to leave, it is indeed very cold. We wrap up warm but regret it almost immediately, as the first climb greets us with 7% for 2 kilometres. But this is no time to complain; it's exactly what we came for! We take off a few layers and set off again up the climb to Pradelles. After 8 kilometres in just under an hour, we stop to visit and eat.

Lozère is the least populated and least dense department in France, but also the highest. That explains the incredible beauty of the high plateaus we can already see. We've only just started and the scenery is immediately sublime. Taking photos, we even wonder whether we're marvelling because we've spent too long away from nature. But no: Lozère is a little hidden treasure.

Pradelles is a very cute little village perched on a cliffside. It's on the route taken by Robert Louis Stevenson with his donkey, so it's very popular with hikers. In fact, the "Stevenson quest", as people call it, sometimes seems absurd to us. Why would you want to walk the same route as a man, however famous, who passed this way in 1879? And with a donkey? The practice puzzles us, but the walkers are so nice and friendly that we wouldn't dream of questioning them. Everyone finds happiness where they can.

After a small meal in a brasserie, we get back on our bicycles for a long descent to Chapeauroux. We settle into the Hôtel Beauséjour, an old building that has nothing to envy France's finest hotels. Admittedly the place is a little old-fashioned, but the owner, Diane, is very warm and does her best to keep this family business alive. The dining room has a breathtaking view of the railway viaduct, and the passing trains are stunning. She tells us the place is even more beautiful in winter under snow, and we take her word for it.

Where we slept: Maison Beauséjour.

Day 2

This is where things get serious. After a breakfast that's poor value for money, we start with the climb up the Mont Mouillé pass, a volcanic outcrop of 8 kilometres at 6% with sections at 17%. We climb slowly, very slowly, but at our own pace, which gets us to the top after 1 hour 10 of effort. The little one is having a blast at the back, singing "Go Daddy, go Daddy!" or "Go Mummy, go Mummy!" depending on who's pulling her trailer.

In Alleyras we stop for lunch on a little terrace. A family has set up their own outdoor space to welcome passers-by with a cold drink or a coffee. You can even eat your own food there, which we're very happy to do. The place is also a B&B, but our wheels are expected elsewhere tonight. After a little photo session in this thoroughly picturesque village, we head north again.

The gradient we'd been warned about doesn't scare us, but the state of the road makes the climb very hard. It's a sandy track covered in stones. Every passing car trails a very unpleasant cloud of dust. Cassandre is doing the climb with the trailer and she's clearly having a tough time. Fortunately, round a bend, the village of Saint-Privat-d'Allier appears. Nestled on the hillside, it offers a magnificent view of the valley below, with the Allier flowing peacefully and the Paris–Nîmes railway line.

It's also a hikers' village, and our refuge for the night, La Cabourne, is full of them. The place looks like a big holiday camp, with its dormitories, its big dining hall and all the facilities designed for travellers. In true Stevenson style, there's even a little meadow where donkeys can sleep. A family arrives with a stubborn donkey, which amuses us a little, but we go over to help them carry some fallen bags.

The gîte is very friendly, everyone melts at the sight of Clémence and we spend an excellent evening in the canteen chatting about everything and nothing with our neighbours. Everyone goes to bed early, though, as we all have ground to cover tomorrow.

Day 3

After an excellent night, we make a little pit stop to satisfy Clémence's new passion: apricots. We buy a few pastries and freewheel gently down the 15-kilometre descent to the hamlet of Prades. Its bridge is magnificent and shelters a little beach that comes at just the right time, as it's hot that morning. This little slice of paradise is exactly what we came looking for along the Allier: calm and precious moments in unspoilt nature.