-
Ed, I hope you have a wonderful time. Please keep us updated as to your progress.
-
Day Two.
That large inflatable mattress I've brought work a treat, woke up feeling nice and warm in the morning, with the tent enveloped in a pastel green light, I slowly packed everything away as I get dressed, the great thing about riding into the camp site at night is that you have absolutely no idea what the surrounding area look like.
I was not disappointed.
Jagged peak in all direction, trees look like tiny brunched up kales next to it, right at that moment I am glad that I decided to ride straight out of Santander instead of camping there, the morning would not been as lovely as this.
Riding through Northern Spain somehow remind me very much of England, it even smell like it after the rain last night, a bit disconcerting after the last time I was in Spain, I was riding through a desert.
I have no plan on where to stop next, the idea is to simply eat up the kilometres as much as possible, all I know is that I've carefully plan the route so it'll avoid large town/cities as they can be a complete pain in Spain.
Feeling a little deflated this morning due to the landscape (and climate) reminding me very much of England in the spring, this soon change as I head further toward Basque Country and seeing the mountains in front of me, the road start to get wider and smoother, because of the Autovia ahead of me, it remain lacking in other traffic as I ride alongside it.
You know, I’ve noticed just how late we (the UK) have gotten into this MAMIL games, it’s very obvious that they have been in this games for a very long time by their kits pre-date the Festina era, and sometime with matching bicycle that also follow the same era with a stupidly big chain set that only those with EPO can successfully propelled themselves up the mountains at 40km/h without breaking a sweat, they’re less douchbaggery compare to the UK, with bicycles that actually look like they're slightly well looked after with chain not being completely soaked in black tar, the sun-faded jersey that lost it’s fluro that hitting the coast like a storm here, and none of those club attitude of being better than anyone that may or may not have two wheels under them.
They're great fun to ride with, I think they endure me because I look like a fucking train coming up from behind and able to ride behind my slipstream, as one guy managed to slip the word “snowplough” when trying to converse with me in broken English, it doesn't matter really, in my experiences, body language count a lots, you'll know a genuine person by their body language before they open their sorry mouth.
30km in an hour, gotta be a record.
I found myself through a forest, pine trees started to show up, my favourite kind, following by my favourite scent from the pine itself, they’re intoxicating and I swallow every gulp of that fresh air, it felt warmer and drier, I noticed that there’s a small lake called the Embalse de Albina, it look fantastic with a cool light red sandy beach, it would be amazing to camp there, but with lack of food, and still too early, I pressed on.
It was getting hillier, but I was riding through valleys, great way of riding quickly, not so great when you realised that large town are usually on the valleys, cue lots of start/stopping trying to head to the correct route and carefully avoiding the Autovia.
After passing a handful of time, I notice it was getting late, there’s no chance of a camp site within the vicinity, best course of action is to simply book myself a room at the Hotel Ongi Etorri in Onati, €32 including breakfast is a steal.
Freshly showered, explore the town, couldn't find a restaurant that’s open (very odd), end up getting some food at a bar instead, ate too much and paid too little for the quantity, all I can remember about this town is the wonky church window.
http://ridewithgps.com/routes/5880056
5 Attachments
-
-
Nice one, Ed, keep them coming.
-
My homeland (L).
Although it's a very small town, Onati has a strong fixed gear scene. Every summer since 2012, it helds a track bike criterium, which is quite impressive to see and race. Not only because of the pave sections of some streets, but also because the people in the town live it as if the would be seeing the Tour of France.
Cool thread BTW, I'll be following it.
-
Day Three.
Staying in a hotel room enable you to get out of the building in no time, this may be the case had I not decided to unpack everything from the panniers and spree them all on the spare bed before falling asleep half clothed.
Might have a little too much to drink, Spanish bar are ridiculously cheap, lots of Sols to consumed.
Breakfast are a cyclist's dream, with yogurt, watermelon, coffee, croissant, ham, cheese, and bread (didn't eat those three), and pineapple juice, I was the only one there.
Left a little late at half 9, water filled, fruit packed, arm warmers and gilet on, was mildly chilly with those wooden musk in the air, left the quiet street of Onati directly toward a climb, those lovely switchback pine trees infested climb on a real smooth road, bit early for that especially with the load but it warm me up quickly, decent climb, a bit of descent, and then into a small forest road between Legazpi and Ormaiztegi, a lots of fun on a low trail bike being able to turn into corner later and quicker than usual.
Back on the main road that go alongside the motorway, riding through Beasain, there was a lots of railway tracks, I later learn it's a major railways town that exports it's production around the world, Europe, US, India, Africa, etc.
Spanish road are amazing, they actually do love their cyclists, mainly the sport side rather than the practical, they're much better at pressing the importance of giving cyclists a lots of room when overtaking, that night at a bar in Onati, I saw a government ads on the TV showing an animation of how to overtake cyclists properly, including actually slowing down as oppose to stepping on the accelerator, they also have a huge number of road sign demonstrating this too, as a result I felt really comfortable in Spain, the only time I got overtaken rudely twice was ironically, by two English drivers.
When I was drawing up the route, Google Streetview make light work of finding picturesque road that's worth going through, when in doubt, I simply check street view to see what it look like, whether it might be a worn down farm track, or a industrial route with a dead end not obvious in the map itself, sometime you're lucky if it was taken recently in high definition, that how I found the small country road through the forest, very quiet, lots of ramblers, and smooth road and almost no traffic between Legazpi and Ormaiztegi.
Reaching Tolosa after a nice gentle soothing ride on the valley, there’s a big climb ahead, the second one of the day, there was no switchback but a long continuous road, crossing the border from Basque Country to Navarre, even then there’s still more climbing to go, at that point, it start to drizzle, the rain does fall mainly in Spain.
It’s just my luck that it start to rain after I reach the top, thinking it’ll stop eventually, it start to get harder with icy rain hitting me on the descent, pulled over, put rain cape on, and grit my teeth riding without gloves, cursed the elusive DeFeet glove that magically disappear with such regularly.
Pulled over at a petrol station at 4pm, I notice that I'm not too far from the French border, only 35km, and there's only two big hill on the way, I figure that I should be able to make the Pyrenees pass before nightfall, after all, it been plain sailing since Santander on beautifully smooth road that made the 42mm tyres a little redundant for shock absorption.
It gotten a little darker when I reach the road to the Pyrenees, the surface was amazing, there was a lots of evidence of a mudslide happen recently, which may explain why the whole road have been resurfaced, it helped the climb providing enough grip on the narrow traffic-free road.
I notice bunkers near the climb, look like barrack for soldiers during WW2, reach to the top of the climb, went into a restaurant, had quiche, coffee and mounted the sodden bike into France, it was a great descent, even in the misty rain, it look fantastic.
France being a bit French, the road was unquestionably horrible.
Found camp site for €3.50 at Saint-Étienne-de-Baïgorry, it just turned dark, free wifi, town got pizza joint, ate, then slept soundly feeling the rain platter against the tent.
http://ridewithgps.com/routes/5880055
7/10 would.
7 Attachments
-
-
Day Four.
Have you ever woke up one morning and immediately recognising where you are? France, yes, it’s not the most exciting country in Europe, sometime a little bland, but extremely recognisable, much like how small town in England stood out easily with it’s pile of charities shops, WHSmithes and the big named express/mini/little supermarket that's a pound a penny at every fucking corner.
It’s humid, annoyingly humid, not surprisingly considering how wet it was yesterday, still the sun is shining, and I’m packing the bike to go back to Spain again, understanding why the French invented the whole balloon tyres nonsense in the first place, a nice jolly flats going through Saint-Jean-Pied-de-Port, taking the country ride to Esterencuby, quick coffee then head out for a jolly climbs of the Col Bagargui.
Fuck. Me.
I was freaking out, this is way too early, on the second day of the Pyrenees, already within 3km I’ve got off the bike for a breather, it’s only 10am, and it killed, 28/36 would be fine, not on a fucking touring bike.
Goddamnit.
I have 30km of climb to do, the road is a lots smaller and more akin to a farm road no more than the width of an old Ford Ka, imaging Ditching Beacon 10 time longer that doesn’t quit, no traffic which is great, I think.
10km in I’m riding on the ridge, the view was spectacular, and a strict reminder never to underestimate unknown climb that nobody talk about, and the reason why nobody talk about it because it’s fucking hard.
See the light brown cutting on the far left? that's where the first photo is taken.The view is amazing though, it’s nothing like I have seen before, especially how the road is unusually build, it seemed that the builder kept changing their mind whether to cut through, or go round it, I’m putting that in the archive to tackle it on a normal road bike.
40km down, lovely but extremely gentle descent, I prefer a gentle descent allowing more recovery time, because let fact it, I’m on a fucking touring bike (perhaps I should rename it to FTB for short instead of NFE?), had a coke, sandwich and lolly by the lake between the D18 and D19, the chalet doesn’t show up in the map oddly enough.
Refilled, time for a gentle climb through the forest, it’s tree protecting me from the direct sun really does help make it easier to concentrate, and the vegetation was enough to block what’s ahead of me, I really enjoyed that climb and it’s much more comfortable than the first half, the final descent is amazing, although fully aware that I’m only halfway through, it’s sickening that the further I descent, the more I have to climb again back into Spain.
Brake start to fade, not good.
At the bottom now, it’s 3pm and feeling a little beaten, I won’t lie that I’ve though about going a different way to avoid that climb after Larrau, it look a monster on paper.
The Port de Larrau is a unique climb in itself, while it’s a Tour de France climb, it was only been recently introduced in 1996, this is undoubtedly the hardest TdF climb I’ve done overall, first climb (Col d’Erroymendi) hit you at a whopping 17%, then it start to level out slowly, although it’s not much until the last 5km which average over 10%, brutal.
Then it begun, the last climb to the Port de Larrau, luckily not as difficult as the first part, it’s far from easy either.
Gotten quite foggy, I can’t see above the mountain, good call, I would have known that there’s a killer 13% grad right at the col, it was getting very cold going through the fog, the switchback is hard to master with the wind howling on your side, saw graffiti on the road, then something glorious happen, the sun broke through the fog as I reach the col, I can barely see ahead, yet the unmistakable orb of the sun shining by my side warmed me up nicely as the fog displace.
One thing to says about the Pyrenees is that the weather is almost never the same on either side, while it start to get foggy and cold on the French side, the Spanish side have gotten a little bit warmer.
Look at how smooth the road is, smooth!Smooth warm road again, I was looking forward to Spain, brake kept fading worryingly, and have to prepare earlier than a rim brakes, not good.
Great descent into the forest abet at a steady 55km/h, the dry warm air whisking away the sweat from my head, cooling me down without sending me into a shiver, it was half 4 and I’ve made it over, the satisfaction of completing a climb when you’re at your lowest ebbed is fantastic, not long ago I was already worn out at what I thought to be a lacklustre Pyrenees climb.
A small gentle climb, then a long descent into the village of Isaba where I’ll stay the night, completely worn out, I decided to stay at a hotel, great long shower, a walk in the village and dinner felt like a holiday, it’s beautiful little Narrave village enveloped by the surrounding mountain.
Oh the hotel is a “Bike Friendly” one, and actually have a work stand with all the tool, awesome.
Fixed the fading issues, turn out I adjusted the barrier too much on the brake not letting the pads auto adjust, leading to loss of power, fixed that and it’s back in action.
8/10 would bang.
http://ridewithgps.com/routes/5880048
10 Attachments
-
-
Day Five.
Had a great night sleep, I woke up feeling really really good with the sunrise shining through the window, did not made the mistake of unpacking all the shit from the panniers, although I did spend 10 minutes using the hair dryer to dry my sock, very important, socks tell people how serious you are.
After a light breakfast, I check over the bike, the cassette was loose, so tighten up the lockring, felt like it’s not getting tighter, bit worrying, I’m using a steel narrow lockring on an alu free hub body, not a good combo.
Hopefully it’ll hold on until I find a bike shop with a 11-32 cassette with a wider lockring.
I am looking forward to this day, I’m in a picturesque Spanish village, heading toward the Pyrenees again through a huge valley where a vast glaciers once reside on.
It was also crisp and dry this morning too, the further I go into the valley, the wider it get showing the scope of the old glacier, I can also see The Wall, where the road head straight into, then fork 90 degrees to the left to start the climb alongside the mountain, it was a textbook climb, long road with small switchback at each end, making light work of gaining attitudes.
The Wall.Halfway through the chain jump behind the cassette.
Feck.
It mean the lockring is loose again, got off, adjusted the cassette and tighten it with hand without removing the wheel, I just need to ride carefully.
The view of the valley, Isaba is hidden 20km away.The landscape changed, it gotten rockier, less vegetation, trees are sparse out, it’s like a different country straddled between Spain and France, it’s also almost white, the sun was quite bright that day judging how dredged my cap is.
The road straddle between the border of Spain and France for quite some time until France come into view after reaching the other side of the mountain, the weather look a lots better than a couple days ago, at that point, I did a quick search on the phone for the nearest bike shop and ride toward it.
The road is closed, apparently there’s an event for people going down the mountain on a longboard, the switchback is littered with hay to stop the poor sod from disappearing into the oblivion if they mistimed their corner.
It also mean I get to break the 60km/h barrier of my touring bike, with a dodgy lockring, I managed to get all the way down to Arette at 2pm, too early, but really don’t have much choice, but to pitch up for the night and go into the bike shop the next morning.
France being a bit French, they’re obviously closed on Sunday (I did check, while spending 10 minutes looking at a €10,000 LOOK masterpiece from the windows).
Pelforth is lovely.
6/10 would be great if the lockring didn’t fail and cut the ride in half.
http://ridewithgps.com/routes/5880047
9 Attachments
-
dancing james
atk
Tomo187
Glws
JB
Kidneys
deleted
Oliver Schick
Eejit
Samy
Thoma
madman
Midi
Backstop
mi7rennie
-
Post a reply
About
Santander to Perpignan - Tour Daily
Posted by
@edscoble
After staying at @Kati's place for the night, I packed everything on the bike that's now front heavy, have a flat white before heading to Waterloo to catch the fast train to Portsmouth, I was not the only one who's going on a tour, halfway to Portsmouth, there's a family who's going to France via ferry having a hard time with the station master trying desperately to convinced him that his trailer can be transformed into a much smaller item to be stow away in the cycle section without disturbing the Health and Safety lots, they're all on what resemblance, BSO, the dad is on an old Raleigh tourer that's too big for him hauling a huge trailer with everything they need, from tent to cooking equipment, they even have a small surfboard on top, dedicated.
His intention is to catch the ferry, then ride about 10 miles a day to each destination with his two sons and wife for a couple weeks before catching the ferry back to England, a kind of tour I wholeheartedly approved of.
Upon arriving at the ferry terminal, I was greet by a gaggle of kids on their overloaded bicycles in preparation for an adventure, I didn't asked much question other than the usual greeting, but I can tell by the group calamity that they're going to have a lots of fun.
Met three more groups, two couples touring Spain on their overloaded tourer (seeing a pattern?), and a German woman whom I spoke to at great length on the ferry learning of her tour, it's easier to get along with foreigner than my peers I've found, then a guy on a modern celeste Bianchi with two white Ortlieb panniers, and wearing full Bianchi kits, also heading to Spain, he took more clothes than I did, intended to B&B/hotel mostly.
The Ferry went without a hitch, dreadfully bored not being able to move around much, it very much stuck in the 90's, just how I remembered it when my family took an overnight to France in the 90's, swimming pool the size of a bathroom on the top desk reek of chlorine isn't helping, neither does the motorway style service station (admittedly not too bad if you stick to the surprisingly fresh salad only hand picked a couple weeks beforehand).
Saw my first hovercraft since the 90's while leaving Portsmouth, is the city even aware it's in the 21st Century? evidence suggest otherwise.
Slept on the floor as I couldn't afford a cabin, now seemed like a luxury notion after a night, although I did slept fairly well, walk around, consumed silly amount of food out of boredom (probably the only negative aspect of the ferry), luckily my ebook kept me going until we're near Santander, the desk is littered with people whom look very much at home by the seaside in Margate, just a severe lack of Tetley and seagull poo.
After arriving in Santander, we went into the hold to prepared our bicycles, everyone bid each other a farewell, the gaggle of kids would like to follow me to my destination, which is over 60km from the port, I hesitated as it just before 7pm, and sunset is at half 9, in the end I ditched them as quickly as possible to make my way to the camp site, feel very guilty for doing so but end up being very glad to, the only nearest one I can find within distance to where I'm going, just outside Santander that also allow me to catch up the missing day on the ferry, I stopped at a local supermarket to get some bread, cheese, ham and freshly baked doughnut that the Spanish love.
Foolishly I didn't quite check the route beforehand which result in I spending a huge amount of time climbing Puerto de Alisas realising it's one of the Vuelta climb after noticing the paints on the road, and the memorial near the top, it was getting colder, starting to drizzle, felt more like Yorkshire than Spain, but it was great to finally stretch my legs after 25 hours of wandering aimlessly in the ferry like a lost drug addict in High Street Kensington trying to bragged a free Ben's Cookies.
After arriving at the top of the climb feeling very miserable wishing I should have follow the German and the Bianchi to the camp site in Santander, nicely drenched in cold sweat and moisture, I quickly dry myself and put a rain cape, glove, and glasses on as the cloud finally engulfed the last ray of sunshine, pushing off onto the final descent that last 20km all the way to the camp site, still taking a while to get used to the disc brake being able to stop the loaded bicycle much quicker than I realised, braking very late before a corner is a skill I've yet to mastered after decades of rims braking (and skinny tyres I guess).
Arrived just after 10pm, pitched tent, blew mattress up, ate, pissed, showered and slept soundly.
http://ridewithgps.com/routes/5880050
4 Attachments