11/02/2023 Bikepacking Spain Day 86 : Air Brakes

Last night, I discovered that my thermarest had delaminated! Doh; after 2 weeks at the apartment, I could have ordered a new one… now it will be tough to get one on the African continent. I can only stay in Europe 3 more days because then the visa will expire… so gotta push on with the pad as it is (anyone coming to West Africa in the next couple months)?

I was happy to have slept in the cave, as I woke to a light drizzle outside - but totally dry inside the cave. After a week of sleeping only 3-4 hours per night due to mid-sleep coughing fits, I was also pleased to have slept a full 7 hours. I felt good in some ways (rested) but bad in other ways: That sore throat was ripping a new one, and I was coughing up little balls of hard stuff. No blood. The Garmin said the body battery was up to 30 (out of 100)… yesterday it hit 5, and then flatlined, as I guess their algorithm won’t permit lower than 5. This should set the stage for the day that was about to unfold. The first climb was paved and I stopped for a 5 minute coffee break in a surprisingly crowded shop. I could hear the old men saying “water will fall from the sky, you think, no?” I checked the weather, and 2 hours of rain predicted at 80% chance. Accumulation Janet and I would never have let a report like this stop us; we wait out days of 0.25” or more. Well, today caught me with my (rain) pants down, because once it began, it wouldn’t stop.

I had an idea to stick to the road… but I looked towards where the trail went and the mountains looked so pretty over there. After having passed the turnoff, I changed my mind and retraced my steps. At that very moment, a heavenly beam appeared from the sky. I took this as a sign that I had made the right decision. Things went well at first… but I would soon discover that the message from heaven had been trickery. Clearly, Lucifer had gotten his hands on a high powered automatic beam forming machine, luring me into this diabolical quagmire. Probably got it as a Kmart blue light special. The trail turned into not-a-trail, eventually petering out into bushes. As I carried my bike up the steep and muddy slope, it was evident that there had never been a trail here on the first place. I came to a barbed wire fence, but was grateful - a dirt road on the other side. A few miles and another barbed wire fence later, I was on pavement. All I had to deal with now was 20 MPH headwinds and a driving rain. How delighted I was to have this be the only challenge. I do not think that the author of this route has actually ridden this section.

I went to a town, and got to a grocery where you had to take an elevator to get between the street, the parking, and the underground store. I brought my bike to the store, and upon leaving, a couple with a shopping cart entered the elevator too. I asked if they were going up… they wanted to go down, but happily agreed to do some extra elevator miles with me. They asked about the trip, and I explained quickly. Then they said “And you came to Ubrique? Why? How do you like Ubrique?” I said, “obviously, I love it!” as I was exiting. The elderly woman smiled a smile that said she was thinking her town with the grocery store with an elevator was the shit.

Now it was time to follow the route some more. Fool me once, bikepacking… well the next part wasn’t too terrible as a route goes, except for the fact that the Wicked Wind of the West was in full force. Speed was predicted to be 20 mph with gusts up to 80 in the passes. The ride devolved into type 3 fun. Type 2 fun is the stuff that sucks while you are doing it, but is really fun to talk about with your friends over a beer. Type 3 fun is a euphemism for the other f word which bears an additional letter. It is never fun. I have been doing this long enough, though, that I kept negative thoughts out of my mind… and just focused on moving forward. If anything positive has come from my bikepacking adventures, it has to be the ability to put on blinders to get through a rough patch - be it daily life or hours of soul sucking mud.

I got to the tarmac, and abandoned the remainder of the route. It seemed intelligent - if I continue on trails, it will be more damage to the bike, and not fun. I’m here to enjoy the trip, not to be a slave to some route. Why is this always so hard to feel like a quitter? Luckily, as I viewed the hills where the trail was rambling, I was relieved to see that they weren’t as dramatic as the Sierra de la Grazalema I had just left. Fox and the Grapes.

That about wraps it up; I road burned to a hotel - after a quick 1 euro stop at the car wash. The hotel is 4 stars and was only $54 USD. I booked it from the parking lot lest they have any concerns about my bike…. I was sick to my stomach upon entering the room; quite a few heath maladies are starting to stack up. I decided to fill my water bottle with fresh water, and dumped it into the sink. It was browner than my dirty clothes wash! That was when I remembered having filled from a fountain that said “water not potable”. It was so dark with the rain and clouds that I didn’t see the color of the water - which cannot be purified by the UV light when it is that opaque. I took a cipro prophylactically. 🤞