I felt much better this morning having aired my disgruntled complaints to the universe last night and despite the rain set off in significantly better humour.
The cycle down to Pamplona was a breeze and the Camino from Zuriain is brilliant for the bike. They have laid a broad concrete swathe along the side of the river and although this may destroy the knees and hips of the pedestrians its great for the bike. Pamplona too is a very bike friendly city and I followed a bike route all the way through the town. It was lunch time while I was there and everything was closed so I decided to forgo my shopping trip until Logroño.
Heading out of the town I wasted a lot of time around Cizur Menor trying to find a survivable route that wasn’t the A12 motorway. I eventually gave up and followed the Camino from Cizur Minor. It was a little rough but nothing I couldn’t handle, even the 16%/ 18% climbs on rough stone track just outside of Zariquiegui didn’t phase me, it wasn’t till another kilometre passed that the problems started. It was already 16:30 but I wasn’t feeling any pressure in making Punte La Renia before dark. What I didn’t count on was the mud, I think there is a story about a war or at least battles being lost because of mud Waterloo, Okinawa being two that come to mind.
The worst part was three kilometres in length, which took me four hours. The first hour I pushed the bike, cleaning the mud from the brakes and mud flaps as it jammed, but as this was ever few steps it was pointless as I spent more time freeing the wheels than moving. Then as night began to fall I realised that I was not getting anywhere, so I removed my panniers and first carried the bike, then the rear bags, then the front bags so I ended up covering the distance five times. As time went on my stages grew shorter and shorter.,I didn’t expect to meet anyone but still didn’t want to be too far from each of my caches.
The Refugio in Ponte La Renia was long closed by the time I first crested the hill at 21:00.
Cleaning the brakes as best I could and fitting all my panniers, I headed down the other side in blind hope that there would not be the same mud there.
Luckily there wasn’t, though this particular descent is adventurous during the day,at night it was quite exciting, a mixture of off-piste skiing, speedway racing and downhill scree riding – in the dark. The bike took it all in its stride and I eventually made it to a farm road, turned left and stopped cartoon like abruptly. I was hub deep in more mud, this more liquid than the last clay/ stone mixture, so I was pushing uphill again.
There is a point where you are going fast enough that you dont get bogged down and I did my best to maintain this velocity. Eventually cresting the hill before the next town the surface improved enough for me to try cycling. Sadly the mud that coated the chain was full of small stones which very quickly forced the chain off the rear sprocket, luckily I could free wheel into Uterga and soon had tarmac under my wheels again but the bike was in serious need of attention.
There were two Alberges in my guide but both were closed, so I found a street light,cleaned my chain as best I could and tried to rejoin it, but for some reason it wasn’t wanting to play fair. After twenty frustrating minutes I headed back up into Uterga and asked a young lad where I could sleep.
He led me to an open room with a bunk bed, shower and loo – there was even a heater. I though I was in heaven. There was no chance to clean the bike at this hour so I headed upto the bar I had passed earlier. This turned out to be a Private club, but as long as there was someone else there I could stay, so I had a beer (well earned I though) a packet of crisps, a packet of nuts and some sugary crap, this was to be dinner.
I watched the news, dried out and had a couple of glasses of wine. I was just about to head for a shower when Jesus offered me a couple of Prawns fried in Olive oil and Garlic. I was gratefully adding a couple to a saucer when the rest of the group decided to invite me to dinner, which I accepted with about as much surprise as delight. One bloke who was quite a character spoke some English and I had various chats with various members of the group in very bad Spanish mixed with French and some translations from the character.
Jesus (far left) is a mechanic, there is a song, book or play in those four words and I forget about the rest. I liked him the most, no bullshit and fun.
It was quite some contrast to be eating with these people only an hour or so after having been in a situation that took all my determination to resolve. I was happy with the prawns but they forced some fish stew on me and no matter what I did I could not have a smaller portion. It wasn’t bad, but the spi5rits of the fish swam around my stomach until morning.
My alarm first went off at 08:30 I refilled my water bottle and went back to bed. The bed was just warm enough to make me want to stay and the bike such a problem that I didn’t get out of bed till 10:30. I spent the next three hours cleaning the bike, anxious not to get water in my hub seals and stumped as to how I would get the mud from between the brakes.
These pictures are far from the bike in its worst condition, the wheels are just free enough to move. This is how I descended the hill without any chain. I finally left at 13:30 having stewed the chain in olive oil and re-adjusting the bottom bracket as for some illogical reason the chain was shorter and no matter what I did, I could not close the clasp. Jesus the mechanic joined me for a while, but after 10min in the rain he left.
The bike ran well and it was only 20min before I was in Punte La Renia. I seriously thought about spending the night at the Refugio, the idea of the log fire a great attraction, but there was a large group of Spanish weekender’s who arrived just before me and I left them to it. The Spanish are great but they talk a lot and very loudly, this coupled with the Camino fervour would have ruined the log fire experience for me and anyway it wasn’t a good days cycle.
I was cold when I arrived in Estella, I had recognised not one bit of the route as its has changed a lot in the last years and I was on the road not the Camino as I had been in summer. I stopped at the first junction in town, I have a good spacial memory and remember much of the places I have already been so its easy to find the Refugio, I did consider whether I would go to the parochial place instead and by all accounts it is a better stay but in the end I went to the place I knew and despite its considerable drawbacks (no elephant, no jungle, no joke) I enjoyed my stay.
I didn’t sleep much last night and I didn’t eat all day so when I found the open supermarket I went to town. The oyster mushrooms were outstanding quality and I had a whole packet fried with challots, garlic, excellent but cheap Jambon and enough olive oil to float the Titanic. It was not only a huge meal but an excellent one however after not eating all day the challots had me farting embarrassingly large quantities of gas all night – I suspect to the distress of my room mates, though nobody said anything, on reflection perhaps they couldn’t as they were too busy gasping for air.
These guys appear to be leaving a trail of crumbs that for some mysterious reason an articulated lorry is following.
Bed by 22:00 was ok, I listened to an Artimis foul audio book until I slept, or dozed. I didn’t have a good nights sleep at all and by 06:40 after being awake for an hour I decided to get up. The reggae at 7am was too much, thankfully it was Bob Marley but still 7am and at volume. It felt to me as I was in a daze and leaving a party at 4am, nearly sober and with the clarity of thought that comes when you know you are relying on yourself to get your arse home.
The Hungarians were up first, a nice couple, we three had breakfast together while the Spainsh weekender’s got themselves out of bed. There was one big guy amongst them who I felt sorry for, he had been limping around all evening, overweight, out of shape and in pain with every step.
I’ve no idea what has made the news outside of Spain, but the weather here has been Biblical. The flooding in Tenerife, the snow and the winds are unheard of. I’ve been lucky, resting days that I’ve thought its been too rough and making dashes when its been lighter.
