Monday, 12 January 2009

12/1: Another touring cyclist!

I'd been told there was a bike shop in Garrucha, so I hatched a crazy plan to get up at five am, pack everything up, but leave the bags in the tent, and then ride around until the shop opened. Too many early starts in the past few days meant that when the alarm went off, I did not. I ended up sleeping in until seven and it felt good.

As I left for my run, I noticed a loaded touring bike set up next to a tent. How exciting! They might even be able to help me fix my bike, alleviating the need to go to Garrucha. I ate breakfast and packed up a bit before going over and introducing myself. His name was Berner, hailing from Germany (but we spoke in English) and he'd been in the touring business for quite some time now. He has what I regard as an idyllic lifestyle. He works all summer in the mountains in a 'hiking chateau' kind of thing, putting hikers up for the night and cooking their meals and all that kind of jazz. It's hard work – sixteen hour days are common – but it means he gets to spend six months of the year riding his bike around! He rides this old clunker that he's done several hundred thousand kms on. Pretty much everything is held together by wire, duct tape and prayers, including the frame, which broke in half when he was in Bolivia. A true bush mechanic if I've ever seen one, he didn't give up and reinforced it with a length of pipe and hose clamps. He's been pretty much everywhere in the southern hemisphere (where it's warm in winter), including Australia and a few years ago, did a four year long tour from Alaska to Argentina, bisecting the Americas essentially.

It was really fascinating to talk to him and he was glad to mentor me a little bit. After looking at the rack, he tut tutted a little bit, and said it was designed poorly. I hadn't really noticed, but the very bottom of the rack, where most of the stress is placed, is about half the thickness of the rest of the thing. Because of that weakness, it had started to bend quite alarmingly, and that no doubt contributed to the screw flying off into the ether. He managed to straighten it out for me using, of all things, a chain tool and a bit of elbow grease. Then I just scavenged a screw from another part of the rack, where it doesn't really matter, and it was as good as new!

The puncture didn't take long to fix either, so I was ready to go by about ten, but didn't end up leaving until twelve thirty because it was so enjoyable chatting to Berner. I was trying to get him to ride off with me, because we were going the same way for a bit, but he had some shopping to do, and said he wouldn't be able to keep up with me anyway hehe. He was planning on going inland a bit, up into the mountains, where he feels most at home, and visiting 'Little Hollywood' (where a lot of Spaghetti Westerns were filmed – it's more Texan than Texas apparently) as well as this enormous solar array, which is apparently the biggest in Europe (and maybe the world). In retrospect, I kind of wish I had gone with him or at least in the same direction. It would've been really cool visiting those places. Probably would've been pretty cold though, so maybe I made the right choice sticking to the coast.

This'll probably be one of the last tours he does (at least that's what he says now, but I reckon he'll keep going for a while yet). I'm not sure how old he is, probably early sixties, but he's got a lot of problems with his joints now, and he doesn't tolerate the cold as well as he used to. It's great that he's willing to pass on all the wisdom he's gleaned over the years, I really learnt a lot from meeting him. To give you an example, the first thing I did after saying goodbye and leaving the campsite was visit a hardware store, where I picked up some spare bolts for the rack and a spool of wire. Now if it happens again, I'll be able to fix it myself, or at least get it working well enough to limp to the next bike shop.

I had an easy day on the cards – there was no way I'd be able to catch up to the itinerary, so I decided to just stop at a campsite halfway between Mojacar (where I was) and Adra (where I was supposed to get to today). There was one in the Cabo de Gato National park, and one in Almeria, the next big city, both about 80km away, so I didn't have to get very far. It was already one pm by the time I actually started riding though, so speed was of the essence.

The weather was fabulous with gorgeous blue skies and lots of sun. I soon stripped off all but one layer, wishing I had enough time to go for a swim in the very inviting ocean next to the road. It was quite a tough route with lots of hills to test how well my legs had recovered from their overeagerness the day before. I did allright for the first forty kms and then encountering a strong headwind and a protracted climb, hit a bit of a rough patch. Food was what I needed, but I didn't really have anything accessible, so I went into a service station and bought a loaf of crappy 'white death' bread. With copious amounts of jam, it wasn't too bad, so I sat there and ate the whole loaf, pretty unconcerned about the fact that I only had ninety minutes of daylight left, and a while to go yet.

I couldn't decide which campground to go to. The one in the Cabo de Gato nature park looked closer, but the route was complicated and took me back the way I'd come a tad. Berner had recommended it though, so I went there anyway, navigating largely by feel. It ended up being quite a bit further than I'd expected. There was a sign for the campground a few towns after the service station, which informed me that it was only 18km away. I found that quite amusing, because normally the signs only appear when the establishment is less than a km away. Quite astute of it really to know where I wanted to go that far in advance!

The sun seemed to hang in the sky for a lot longer than usual, and I was very thankful for that. I haven't really been paying attention to exactly when sunset is, but I didn't need to put my lights on until twenty to seven, which is a huge improvement compared to when I started the tour. Back then it used to get dark shortly before six and sunrise was at 8:30, so I've basically got an extra hour of riding time now. Still, it wasn't enough to get me to the campsite before it got really dark, and the last five km or so were in pitch blackness. I had all my lights on, so I'm sure other cars had no trouble seeing me, but my headlight is next to useless, so I could barely see the white line in front of me. It made it a bit hairy going down some of the descents, but in spite of that, I didn't hold off at all and barely used the brakes.

It was a relief to finally find the campground. It was 7:30 by the time I got there, and I was really tired. I felt like going to sleep straight away, but I had to go for my run first, which actually turned out to be really enjoyable. For the first time in Spain, I could actually look up and see the stars. Normally light pollution or smog blocks them out pretty effectively, but out in the parc natural there was none of that. As well as the stars, I had a brilliant full moon to gaze at. It was really quite transfixing.

Back at the campsite, I again felt like just going to sleep, but there was free internet access and I felt like I should log on and let everyone know I was still alive. Camping is fantastic and I enjoy it a lot more than staying in Pensions, but internet access is scarce or more accurately, available, but at ridiculously high prices (5 euros an hour is the best deal I've seen).

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