Day 22: The Finish

Santiago do Caceres to Praia da Luz // Miles 82 Ascent: 5100 Feet

With hugs and well wishes from our hotel proprietor, we set off on our last day. It was downhill from the hotel to our route, then it was up and down over the next 82 miles. I was very emotional because I had learned during the night that Jackie, my daughter-in-law, had gone into labor. It was a month early. I hadn’t slept. I was worried about her, worried about the baby, and upset that I would miss our granddaughter’s arrival. My only option was to focus on finishing the ride and trust that everything was going to be fine. We rode most of the day together, spreading apart on the climbs but joining back together at the SAG stops. We had every type of climb imaginable today, long, gradual ones that stretched for miles snaking back and forth up the mountain, short, steep ones, the steepest being 20% grade that required getting out of the saddle the entire way, and one that had some of both, long stretches of gradual climbing with a short descent followed by a long and steep climb. The hard work helped me maintain my focus on good technique, the crazy Portuguese drivers required that I pay close attention to traffic, and the rough roads made me stay alert to pot holes, especially on the descents. I can understand now why Europe produces such good road cyclists. Riding this terrain in this environment definitely makes you stronger. We had a nice tailwind and got to Praia da Luz earlier than we expected. James led us through the cobblestoned streets to the center of the village where his family and friends were waiting. They cheered us in when we arrived. It was an emotional finish. I was physically and mentally tired and I was relieved to have made it safely across the 1,600 miles. I needed to get some news about Jackie, Drew and the yet-to-arrive baby. And, frankly, I needed some time alone to pull myself together.

Praia da Luz is a stunningly beautiful resort town on the coast of the Atlantic Ocean. James owns a condominium, and he had reserved some condos in his complex for the rest of us. After hugs, fist bumps and photos, I got on my bike and rode up more hills to get to the condo, carried in my bike and gear, got on the WiFi and headed straight for the shower, knowing that was one place I could be alone for a while. Before leaving for dinner I got the wonderful news that Margaret McCain Patterson had arrived and mother and baby were both fine. That evening we celebrated both an ending and a beginning, the accomplishment a challenging three week bicycle trip across Europe and the birth of a healthy granddaughter. It is a day I will never forget.

Day 21: A Wonderful Portuguese Experience

Evora to Santiago do Caceum Miles: 66 Ascent: 3000 Feet

What a day. We left Evora on cobblestone streets until we reached the country. The entire route was on country roads, initially passing large pastures of cattle and sheep, but after we passed the first SAG stop, the landscape changed. The rest of the day we road through wooded fields of trees. In some places there were cattle grazing, but mostly we rode through forests of cork oak trees on both sides of the road. The cork is harvested from the bark of the tree, and all along the route bark had been removed from the trees. The trees were labeled with words and numbers that were meaningless to me. I read this evening that the process of removing the bark is called extraction. It is done by hand and a good extractor can remove the bark without damaging the tree. The first extraction is considered low quality and is used for floors and shoes. It is the second or third extraction that is used for wine and champagne stoppers. It takes nine to thirteen years between extractions on a tree. This area of Portugal produces nearly half of the cork produced world wide. In addition to the cork forests we rode by plots of bamboo and in a couple places the farmers were harvesting it by hand.

After the first SAG stop, I rode the rest of the day alone. Our ride ends tomorrow and I tried to take in as much of the Portuguese countryside into my memory photo book as I could. I stopped frequently for pictures, but I wanted to remember the emotions I was feeling today. I am really tired but also deeply happy to have had this experience. Again, today, we did a lot of climbing. The last 15 miles involved 13 miles of climbing to get to the town. I’m hoping that means tomorrow morning we will be going downhill at the start. Most of the hotels we have stayed in have been very nice and in the center of town to allow for sight seeing in the early evening. Today, my Garmin read “end of route” when I got to the edge of town. I made a left turn ( because that was my only option) and rode up a steep hill (one of many climbs today). At the top of the hill was a sign that read “Diolinda Restauranr” and in small print underneath “Rooms”. I parked my bike and walked through the beads that served as a door. What an amazing experience we are having here. The proprietor speaks no English and she does the cooking. After we had all arrived and got checked into our rooms (we occupy 5 of the 8 rooms she has) she made us a fabulous lunch served with cold beer. Such great fun to see this side of Portuguese life. Tomorrow we finish. 82 miles and 5,000 feet of hills to the southern tip of Portugal and the Atlantic Ocean. The forecast is for sun and cooler temperatures as we get closer to the ocean.

Day 20: Adios, Espana. Ola, Portugal.

Badajoz, Spain to Evora, Portugal Miles: 63 // Ascent: 3818

Knowing there would be a time change when we entered Portugal, we lingered a bit over breakfast this morning, sharing memories about our ride across the US. When we finally left, we rode together and the route to get out of town was easy. At 3.1 miles James shouted “stopping”, and we all followed suit. Then he announced, “You are now in Portugal”. No passport check, no border patrol, not even a “Welcome to Pure Portugal” sign to alert travelers they had entered a different country. On the shoulder of the road, someone had drawn a white chalk line with the word “Espana“ and a heart on the east side of the line and the word ”Portugal” with what appeared to be a face with its tongue sticking out on the west side of the line. That’s as official as it gets.

We rode together for the first 15 miles, and it became apparent quickly that Portugal is a very hilly country. We had long, rolling climbs the entire day. We are in a very rural area. The fields are large and the grass is golden brown. Cattle, goats, sheep and pigs greeted us along the route. The iconic white, terracotta roofed villages on the hilltops could be seen from miles away, as if they were challenging us to make the climb. We rode through olive groves and by vineyards as we went from village to village. From time to time I caught a whiff of thyme. Portugal is a beautiful country.

Because we each climb at a different pace, after the first SAG stop I rode the rest of the day alone. Our destination was Evora, and the song “Elvira” by the Oak Ridge Boys keep going through my head to the rhythm of my cadence. The heat and hills took a toll on my legs. The last 15 miles were hard. By the time I reached Elvira (Evora) the temperature was 97. Evora has very narrow, winding cobblestone streets that are not as wide as an alley. My Garmin (and I) got confused and we couldn’t locate the hotel. I stopped to use Google maps on my phone, but as soon as I stopped sweat streamed into my eyes. If the Portuguese people on the street knew English, I am certain I added some new words to their vocabulary today. Thanks to Google, I did finally locate the hotel. James was already there, and handed me a bottle of chilled, sparkling water. It was a gorgeous ride, but I was glad to be done for the day. We are in the south of Portugal, about 70 miles east of Lisbon. We continue heading south and west tomorrow. The forecast is for sunny, very hot weather. Just two more days to our goal!

Day 19: Last day in Spain

Caceres to Badajoz Miles: 56 // Ascent: 1654 feet

The forecast was for heat and bright sun, so we were pleased when we left the hotel under cloudy skies. We rode as a group to navigate our way out of Caceres, then gradually broke into smaller groups. It was an easy riding day today and I rode most of it alone. We were in the Nevada-like countryside for quite a while, going over long, gradual climbs. James, our fastest rider, was way ahead of the rest of us, planning to get to Badajoz before the bike shops closed for the afternoon siesta. I came over a hill, and found him beside the road changing a flat (or puncture as he calls it, given that he is English). It was his second of the day. He used his last tube, only to discover it was defective, so I gave him two of mine, one for him to use and one for him to carry. Now we both needed to get to the bike shop. As I neared Badajoz, the landscape changed drastically, and large orchards of either oranges or apricots (I couldn’t tell which) lined both sides of the road. I made my way to the hotel after a couple miscues and checked into my room. I went through my normal routine, and then packed my dirty laundry and all three cycling kits into my helmet bag, which is doing double duty as a laundry bag, and headed to a laundromat. As a result I now have three clean kits for the last three days of riding. I’m getting excited about the finish. I have been impressed with how far ahead of us European countries seem to be in establishing sustainable energy practices. Every hotel we have stayed in in England, France and Spain has had water conserving toilets, motion sensors in the hallways to control lights, and on/off controls by every outlet. We have passed solar farms and wind farms, and many hybrid cars and motorcycles are on the roads. We have much to learn from them. On the other hand, I have been shocked by the number of people I’ve seen smoking, especially in Spain. One of the big surprises is that we hear American music wherever we are, at breakfast in the hotel, at gas stations, in restaurants. Entertainment must be one of our biggest exports. Most of the time it is American artists, but occasionally it is a Spanish artist singing an American song. Tomorrow we reach Portugal. We have a 63 mile day with over 3500 feet of climbing ahead. The forecast is for hot, sunny weather. Just three more days to reach the tip of Portugal. We need to stay focused.

Day 18: Is this Nevada?

Plasencia to Caceres // Miles: 52 Ascent 3017 Feet

After breakfast at the hotel, we set out for Caceres. It was an easy ride out of town, and then we were on a nice two lane highway with wide shoulder for the entire 52 miles. If yesterday was Kansas, today was Nevada. Dry desert grass, grazing cattle, short scrubby trees, and rugged mountains in the background surrounded me of both sides of the road we were on. The brown cattle blended into the grass, and only the tinkle of their cowbells distinguished them from the bales of straw that were scattered in the fields. From time to time, little lizards scurried across the road. The scenery was expansive and desolate. We started out together, but James, our fastest rider, had a flat early on, and then a second. We split apart, and I rode most of the day alone at a slow pace, conserving my energy. It was only 52 miles, but I knew the route involved climbing up and over mountain ridges the entire way. Most of the day was a slow climb, with a couple long steep hills that made it interesting. We skirted the edge of a huge reservoir, and when I stopped for photos I longed to jump in.

We are now in southern Spain and it is hot. I was tired the entire ride. Typically, when I arrive at the hotel and get checked in, I have a routine of putting all my electronic devices (headlamp, taillight, Garmin) on the charger to get ready for the next day. Then I take off my very sweaty bike clothes and shoes. I immediately wash my kit out in the sink and hang it out the window to dry. I wipe down my bike, stretch, and then hop into the shower. Not today. Today when I got to the room I took off my bike shoes and kit, fell across the bed, and slept for over an hour. My body and mind needed to recover. This is an amazing adventure. Experiencing Spain has been great fun. The food has been wonderful. I’ve been having cured meats and cheese for breakfast and tapas or paella for dinner. And bread. Lots of bread. The scenery is breathtaking. The road conditions have been smooth, and seeing the non tourist spots of this country has been priceless. The Spanish people have been gracious, and for the most part, the drivers are friendly to cyclists. I am glad we had a short day today. Tomorrow also is a short day, 50 miles and not as much climbing as we’ve been doing. Tomorrow we continue south to reach Badajoz, then Thursday we will angle southwest into Portugal. We plan to leave early to avoid the heat. The forecast if for 98 degrees and lots of sunshine.

Day 17: Riding the mountains

Salamanca to Plasensia // Miles: 85 Feet. 3858

What a tough day. Our biking culture isn’t in synch with the Spanish culture. Our hotel didn’t serve breakfast and no place close to our hotel opened until 10:00. The Spanish start their day mid morning, shut down everything in the afternoon, open again in the evening, and get into full swing around 10:00, just the time we head to bed to get ready for the next day.  Since nothing was open, we left the hotel on empty stomachs planning to stop on the road when we found someplace open for breakfast. The ride out of town was dicey, uneven brick paved streets and cobblestones and I had had no coffee. I was tense, which is a waste of energy. At mile ten our support crew had located a little cafe, out of town, so we stopped for breakfast. It was wonderful, but by the time we got on the road, it was going on 10:00, and we had 70 miles of mountains ahead. The scenery was stunning, the mountains were magnificent, and the heat was rising. By the time we reached the halfway point we had done four mountain passes and the temperature was 97. I was spent. We stopped for lunch at a beautiful mountainside cafe. I had no appetite, no legs, and 42 miles ahead. My spirits were low. I didn’t eat much. When we left the cafe I honestly wondered if I had it in me to finish, but as lunch kicked in I picked up the pace and started counting down the miles. I rode with Jed and we agreed to take turns pulling every mile since a headwind had picked up. At about 12 miles Jed said, “last climb of the day". I was dead. I completed the climb, and with 8 miles to go, I bonked. I had nothing left in the tank to get me home. I counted down the half miles until we got into town and we got to the hotel. I was completely exhausted. We saw the most speculative scenery today. We are in rural Spain. No tourist buses here. The first part of the ride was Kansas. Then it became iconic rural Spain, golden grass, herds of grazing cattle, and groves of vibrant green trees. That was followed by soaring, rugged mountains. And I saw it all from my bicycle. What a taxing but fulfilling day. Tomorrow is a short mileage day but a steep climbing day. I am not looking forward to that. Just five days of riding left to get to the southern tip of Portugal. I am ready to be done, but ironically, I don’t want it to end.

Day 16: Rolling along

Valladolid to Salamanca // Miles: 71 Feet: 2402

As we have progressed on our journey from England to Portugal, the longer we go the stronger we get. Seventy miles isn’t intimidating anymore. This was a good riding day. The climbs were gradual, the descents were wide and sloping, and much of the route was flat. I was thankful for that. The big fields and open space reminded me of riding through Kansas on the cross US trip, except that it is more rolling here. We left Valladolid as a group, but by mile 20 had already split up, so again I rode alone for most of the day. We continued our journey through the rural, remote area of Spain, not as beautiful as yesterday’s ride. I rode at a very steady pace all day, singing to myself to keep a constant rhythm. The miles flew by quickly. Before I knew it, I was entering Salamanca, called The Golden City because of it’s gold colored architecture in the city’s historic center. We rode through the Landmark public square to our hotel, showered quickly, and went to the square for lunch. The town is stunning, and after eating we did some sightseeing before heading back for a rest. At dinner this evening the town was full of tourists, musicians and entertainers and I could pick up on several different languages as People walked by. Tomorrow is a tough day of long mileage (84 miles) and lots of climbing. And now that we are getting further south, the temperature is rising. We are headed to Plasencia tomorrow, and the forecast there is 95 degrees. We hope to get an early start.

Day 15: Such beautiful light

Burgos to Valladolid //Miles 87. Feet 3566

We left Burgos later than usual because the hotel did not serve breakfast until 8:00. But what a breakfast it was, a vast array of meats, cheeses, breads, fruit, cereals, eggs, bacon, and sweet breads. I stuffed myself. It was an easy ride out of the city to a road that took us up into the mountains. I stopped for photos while the others rode on, and I rode alone for the rest of the day, except for the last 10 miles. It was a beautiful and, somewhat emotional, day for me. The landscape was beautiful. Rolling fields of grain that had been cut and baled as far as I could see. Stacks of bales dotted the fields as monuments to the hard work of the farmers. Fields of green and yellow sunflowers stretched on both sides of the road, breaking up the golden fields of cut grain. The early morning light was breathtaking, making the surrounding fields look like the work of an artist. I was moved by the beauty and solitude of it.

We are in the middle of a very remote area. There were no houses to be seen, just a two lane road and stunning rural Spain. Some of the villages I passed through were vibrant and prosperous. Others were desolate and poor. I climbed up a mountain at a hard but steady pace, then rode the ridge of the mountain top for miles, before making the descent into the valley. Hairpin turns winding down the mountainside with no guard rails reminded me that I have a fear of heights. I feathered my brakes to crawl down the mountain. This same scenario occurred four times over. Inching up and inching down. I was glad my riding friends were not with me to witness the terror of my mountain side descents. A few miles from town I caught up to the other riders and we rode into the city of Valladolid together. There is safety in numbers and our Garmins have been giving strange and incorrect information in the cities. I was glad when we reached our hotel. Tomorrow is a shorter, flatter day, and the forecast is for perfect weather. Chilly in the morning and high 70’s by the time we finish.

Day 14: Recovery Ride

Miranda de Ebro to Burgos //Miles 50. Feet 2267.

After yesterday’s tough day of climbs, we had a shorter, easier day today. Fifty miles and less than half the climbing of yesterday. We rode on a new two lane highway that had a very wide shoulder. The easy-to-navigate route was a welcome relief in spite of the heavy semi truck traffic. My legs were tired from yesterday’s tough workout, so I decided to focus on cadence, not speed. I wanted to loosen the tight muscles and break down the lactic acid by maintaining 82-85 rpm the entire route. I kept my legs spinning at a consistent speed whether going up or down an 8% grade hill or on the flat by singing the entire 50 miles. Average rpms at the end of the ride, 82! Mission accomplished.

We arrived in Burgos around noon, giving us time for lunch today and sightseeing. Burgos is the home of a magnificent French Gothic cathedral and the remains of the Castle of Burgos. Prehistoric remains dating to 2000BC have been located on the hill where the castle stands and historians believe the castle was constructed before 865 AD. Today the terracotta roofs of the city of Burgos spread in all directions from the hill on which the castle stands. Tomorrow is another big mileage day with significant climbs. The forecast is perfect, sunny and high of 70.

Day 13: Mountains and Valleys

Elgoibar to Miranda de Ebro // Miles 69 // Feet 4,961

Today was a tough day. Nearly 5,000 feet of climbing. James, the Englishman who is the trip organizer and the strongest rider in our group, set out alone. The rest of us stuck together for almost 35 miles. There was a lot of climbing in the first 20 miles and by the time we got to the first sag stop I was starving. Little did I know that the fun was just beginning. We had a climb of more than five miles over a mountain pass, with the grade jumping from 8% to 15% in a couple spots. It was hard. We noticed a couple of cycling team cars passing us on the way up and several motorcycle police were on the road. When we reached the summit, we talked (the best we could since no one among us knows Spanish and the man we were talking to did not speak English) to a man leaning on a road bike. We learned a cycling race for under 23 year olds and under was coming through in about 15 minutes. Cars of parents and support vehicles gathered in the parking lot near us to watch and cheer as the leaders and then the peloton came by. It was fun, and humbling to watch them race up the mountain knowing how we had struggled to get up that climb just minutes before.

After descending the mountain, we rode through the rolling, rural countryside, passing through small farming villages. The roads are narrow and when we ride through the old village streets we are practically within reach of the front doors of the homes. I was alone at some points and thought I had to have taken a wrong turn because it was so narrow. At about mile 47 we came into a village that was having a summer festival. The streets were blocked and people filled the streets. We walked our bikes through the maze of festival goers, then remounted for the final 21 miles. The next two sets of climbs began. The first on a two lane highway, snaking its way up the mountain. The road folded around the mountain like a ribbon. After reaching the top and half way down the descent, my Garmin instructed me to turn left off the descent and I began another climb, this time on a tiny country road. I rode alone climbing for miles, inching my way up the mountain, until I finally reached the top and started the next descent. I rode it down for miles, breaking when I exceeded 30 mph, through the picturesque countryside. The light on the golden wheat and yellow fields of sunflowers fields was exquisite.

I am so enjoying learning about the culture of each country and region that we are passing through. I am fascinated that the countries are as close as states in the US, but each has its culture, language and traditions. The Spanish culture is presenting a challenge for us. Most businesses close between noon and 2:00 or later. And many are closed for the month of August for holiday. Dinner is at 8:30 and most families don’t eat until 10:00 p.m. or later. After riding all day we typically arrive at the hotel around 3:00, when most things are closed, so we cannot get food. We ride all day on breakfast and little more, maybe a cereal or granola bar. The result is that we finish at 3:00 but do not eat dinner until 8:00 or later am starved by then. Tonight rather than wait for dinner we bought food in the hotel “cafeteria” that was open. For dinner I had two beers, a salami sandwich, and a bag of chips. Dinner of champions after riding 68 miles and climbing over 5,000 feet. We are about 162 miles north and slightly east of Madrid. We will be riding south west, gradually angling toward Portugal but won’t enter that country for another week. The forecast for tomorrow is promising, high 60’s and sunshine. We have a short day of only 50 miles, but the first 30 Miles is a long, gradual climb.

Day 12: Au Revoir, France. Hola, Espana!

Biarritz to Elgoibar //Miles 72 //Feet 3550

Today was almost surreal. We left the hotel, rode 17 miles, crossed a river, and James said, “Stop. We are now in Spain.” There was no immigration check and no sign indicating a border. The road signs were a different language. That was the only indication we had entered a different country.

We are in the Basque region of Spain, an area of of southern France and northern Spain between the Atlantic Ocean and the Pyrenees. This region does not speak Spanish. It has its own language known as Euskadi or Basque, its own culinary traditions, and its own culture. It is stunningly beautiful. Today I saw some of the most beautiful scenery I have seen in my entire life, and I saw it from my bicycle. The first 20 miles of the route were rolling hills, with the Pyrenees rising in the distance. At about mile 30, we rode into San Sabastian. The beauty was breathtaking. San Sabastian is a coastal town with beautiful beaches and stunning architecture. Today was a holiday, and there were people everywhere. The cycle path was crowded so we inched along dodging surfers, families, and other bikers. After riding several miles along the coast over major climbs and long descents, we started to angle inland, away from the ocean. The longest climb of the day was a five mile climb to a summit with amazing views of the ocean and surrounding countryside. We had a long descent with hairpin turns into the town where our hotel is tonight. What a glorious day. We won’t see the ocean again until we reach the Algarve in Portugal. We saw hundreds of cyclists today. I imagine it was because it was a holiday. Cycling clubs and groups of cyclists were out in full force today. It was fun to see the bright colors of their kits as they flew by. Cycling is such a part of the culture here. The forecast tomorrow looks promising. Overcast skies, but I think we will dodge the rain as we continue the trek through Spain.