The P(l)ains of Zaragoza

Our day off in Barcelona amounted to an exploration of the works of Anonini Gaudi including La Sagrada Familia as well as his house which is situated in a beautiful little park where we spent hours relaxing under the shade of the local trees enjoying the breeze and a rest to our very tired legs. The rest of our day in Barcelona seemed to consist solely of riding the bus turistic around the city as we were simply too tired to get off at any of the interesting sites, including the home of FC Barcelona...

As it turned out we were a day early to Barcelona, had we stayed we might have taken part of the celebration of Barca´s victory in Rome over Manchester United and danced in the streets until all hours of the night...but...as is usually the case the fates had other plans for us.

Our departure from our beachside campsite outside of Barcelona was marred by the first injury of our trip. Allen, while riding down a boardwalk near the beach, got his front tire stuck in between the boards, forward momentum did not stop with the tire however, and Nathan watched as Allen hurtled headlong into the railing fearing a broken neck or worse, a fall to the beach...No such fate was in the cards for Allen, however, who using his Aikido skills was able to break his fall and not his neck! So instead of escaping Barcelona with a hangover from celebrating Barca´s victory, we escaped with a few scrapes and a sore knee. Still, when Barca´s victory was complete the air around our campsite literally exploded in celebration.

Barcelona to our campsite in Cunit was a tough climb along the water´s edge but we ate well that night, home cooked spaghetti and meatballs over our camp stove and slept well outside of earshot of the rushing highway. From Cunit, however, we experienced the hardest day yet where we climbed for over fifty miles on three good knees! Nearing the end of the day, around 8pm, we rolled into a town that shall hereafter be known simply as Aguadiente and found that they had nowhere for us to sleep and that the next town was another fifteen kilometeres. Allen, simply unable to continue spinning his pedal on one good leg looked at Nathan and told him to go and order him a shot of the strongest stuff in the village. Two shots of homebrewed Aguadiente shots later the two were again climbing. Nearing the crest of the hill, now in the darkness, Nathan shouted out that over the crest of the hill the sun was shining, the roads were all down hill, and the wind would be at our backs...the land of milk and honey...AND IT WAS! (This is no joke people, it happened just like this) We crested the hill, the sun hit our faces and down we coasted into the sunset. As the sun disappeared one beacon of light was left, a light set atop the steeple of the church in Las Borges Blanques, a light calling out to all weary travelers! A man with a dog guided us to the hostel, the hostel woman guided us to the best food of the trip and simply put, once we hit the crest of that hill, everything was OK!

The next morning, Allen decided that his knee needed time to heal and so having located the train station and a bar to wait in, Allen and Nathan parted ways and Nathan continued riding.

The ride from Las Borges Blanques was HOT, a series of sun drenched backroads up onto mesetas across and down again and Nathan went through 6 liters of water until stopping at a gas station to refuel...Nathan looked up and saw the way onto the mesa, what turned out to be a Grapevine like, hour and a half climb in the heat, that was rewarded by an eight mile cruz downhill. The mesa wasn´t entirely a mesa and included more ups and downs and Nathan started to understand what if felt like to be a windshield as he was pelted with local insects until he finally arrived at the last town in the middle of nowhere, the name of which has been forgotten to time!

Rising the next day Nathan endured what was to be his last day of solo riding into Zaragoza! Another hot day, the hottest of the trip led Nathan to stop at the turist office in Zaragoza, whcih was easy to find as it was right next to the spires of the local basilica which he had been riding towards for most of the morning as they were visible from miles away! The tourist people told Nathan that Logroño, where Nathan and Allen were to meet, was still two days ride away, Nathan didn´t believe them until he checked the internet, and found out that not only was Logroño two days ride, but that Allen was actually IN Zaragoza! Nathan went to the hostel, got the last bed, which was a blessing and a curse given the loud group next door, and woke a now beardless Allen from a dead sleep! Reunited, the two enjoyed a music filled Saturday night in Zaragoza and stayed up much too late!

The P(l)ains of Zaragoza are very simply HOT AND WINDY, and rather than our typical 10 to 15 miles per hour average speed, we made 6mph yelling headlong into the wind that blew in our faces all day no matter whcih direction we turned, when we yelled, the wind yelled louder...when we cussed, the wind cussed louder, and after only 43miles the wind won! We crept into Funstinaña and were rewareded for our effort by a loud ovation of applause from the town (literally)!

Finally able to battle the wind, we made 69 miles the next day into a still blowing wind to Logroño where we awoke simply unable to continue riding after an exhausting 100 miles. We are in the last throws of a day off in Logroño where we spent the day sleeping and at the HydroThereapy Institute of Logroño. Tomorrow Burgos!