Day 538
Those pretty orange/red/scarlet hills
Tom had a plan for today. To beat our record for the most climbing in one day. Never mind that we had achieved our previous record of 6,400 feet in a 90-mile day over rolling hills with a cool coastal wind to help us along and with the added bonus of meeting up with our Route 101 gang at the end. Today we had it hot and big hills and a wild camp to look forward too. Still, I agreed, and at ridiculous o'clock we were off uphill! The first 1,000 feet was pretty easy. The sun hadn’t quite got up and the road was nicely graded. The next big climb of just under 3,000 feet was tougher but the views and friendly waves and banter from the locals helped us along.
I foolishly pushed on past a small town with the chance to buy a cool bottle or two of soda. I have never been one for fizzy carbonated drinks but they are now my fuel of choice for cycling in hot weather. Fortunately, a few miles on we past a small shop, it was closed but owners took pity on me and I was soon clutching several bottles of carbonated fuel. Thanking all the powers that be we sat in the shade and quenched our thirst. Off again.
The views were just as mind boggling as the previous few days. We were so happy we had chosen to come this way, rather than ride the busy but flatter coastal route. Few tourists do, and it’s understandable as to drive this road takes a level of skill, strong nerves and probably a bit of a death wish! There were few vehicles on the road, locals on small motorbikes, a few pick up trucks heavily laden with a random range of cargo, from people, the odd horse, a few cows, wood and water. Seeing a horse calmly standing upright in the back of a pickup is quite something. There were plenty of buses and delivery trucks and over the past few days we have come to recognise the drivers and they us, those guys deserve a medal, and danger money!
On we went, we sat and ate our lunch overlooking a massive canyon. I was wearing clean cycle kit after 4 days in the same sweat stained clothes and it was great to be clean. Not for long as I managed to tip tuna, sweetcorn and tomato with a lovely coating of Mayo all over my top and shorts. Ah well, it makes a change from sweat!
We had one more big climb to do, 2,500 feet over 6 miles. The sun was fully up now and the temperature was well into the 30s. I began to doubt I could do this and even Tom ‘the wonder horse’ was looking doubtful. First though we had a 6 mile downhill. Normally a chance to gain some easy miles and just relax and enjoy the view. Not on the 23, the road was still full of potholes and rockfalls, and of course a few sections of road had disappeared just to add to the fun. We also had to watch out for the usual assortment of animals that wander about, I just managed to avoid a pig as it sauntered across the road clearly indifferent to my approach.
Finally, here it was, a couple more hours of climbing and we would pretty much have our target in the bag. At first it was steep and fiercely hot, if this continued, I wouldn’t cope. Then a slight breeze appeared from nowhere, it came and went but it helped so much. The gradient eased, occasionally we had some shade, we started to believe we might do this. The views continued to inspire as we climbed and painfully slowly, we made our way to the top. Finally, 3 hours after we started this hill, and 8 hours after we set off, we were at the top. The view was majestic, we bought more soda and sat and celebrated. Neither of us quite believed we’d done it! A quick check on the Garmin confirmed we hadn’t quite so off we went, and picked up the final 600 feet to smash our record, and we could begin to search for where we would sleep. Darkness was approaching before we found somewhere to camp, but the fickle finger of fate was with us and rewarded us with a hidden grotto complete with a plunge pool to swim and clean up in!
In the morning it was another early start, no, not to beat our record, never again, but to find a TV so we could watch Inglaterra vs Francia. We left the mountains behind and entered a rain forest. Stunning birds, wild flowers and a moth as big as a dinner plate! We rode by a vast river with most of our side of the road actually collapsed in it. We made it in time for the match but the fickle finger was not with us today. The referee was blind, that bloke should have had a red card, our lads played their hearts out, (OK, well in the second half), heart-broken we went to the restaurant to drown our sorrows. Tomorrow we head for the coast, our hearts sore, but with a family reunion fast approaching and over two weeks off the bikes, we can’t wait!
