Life Behind Bars #16

On July 3, 2023July 3, 2023 By KBGearDaveIn Biking Stuff, On the Road2 Comments

June 26 – June 30, 2023

Sunday, June 25 (Day 96). We went into Bakewell with the goal of running along the Monsal Trail. It was going to be an out and back on a ‘rails to trails’ segment. As we passed a car park enroute to the trailhead, we noticed a couple pinning numbers on their shirts. We learned that a local run was set to go off in twenty minutes. “You can still register if you fancy a go!” We did fancy! £5 and £2.50 secured our entry into the Bakewell Pudding Fell Run and Fun Run. When I completed my entry form, one volunteer noted my USA address. “Ooh,” he said, “Now we’re an international event!”

Moments later, 213 locals and one American set off to climb the ridge above Bakewell. It was 6 1/2 miles of rough (at times muddy) single-track through the woods, ridge running with expansive views, and even a stream crossing. Sharon’s run included many of the same features on a slightly smaller scale.

We loved it! It was extremely well organized – and extremely nonchalant. People were handing over their pound notes to enter minutes before the start of the race. Easy as you please. No T-Shirts or medals to finishers, just some tasty Bakewell tarts from the race sponsor. My only complaint? They had trophies for the top male and female runners. No recognition for being the top American finisher!

It was great fun and gave us an excuse to enjoy a Cornish pasty and the fruit of a local microbrew. The exercise and food coma also gave us an excuse to laze around the rest of the day.

Monday, June 26 (Day 97). During our stay in the Peak District, we very much enjoyed time away from the bikes. It was fun – and painful – using different muscle groups. Now however it was time to head back south in the direction of London. The town of Derby lay in the right direction at an agreeable distance. For no other reason, we landed there at day’s end. It was nice enough with loads of pleasant bits. Empty store fronts and “To Let” signs littered the main streets. Many of the folks out and about also had a ‘worn around the edges’ look. England is not all quaint “move set” villages. It is filled with real people, living in real cities, facing real challenges – just like people everywhere.

The River Derwent followed us all the way from the Peaks District to Derby.

Tuesday, June 27 (Day 98). We set out to cover forty some miles today. We hadn’t gone half that, and we were looking to tap out. Cycling was lovely as ever. But, it was also a cold, moist day, with the wind coming from the wrong direction. Given our distance from London, and given that cycling into a city of twelve million is cycling suicide, we’ve planned to do the last bit by train. Knowing that we will at some point take that option, we see no need to flog ourselves. Here’s the funny thing – just when we had decided to cut short our day…England pulled in the welcome mat. There were no campgrounds nearby. OK! We looked at hotels, guiest houses, B&B’s – NO VACANCY! We tried and exhausted countless options. By the time we found lodging, we had covered our forty miles, and ended up in Leicester.

We did have fun along the way.

Wednesday, June 28 (Day 99). Leaving Leicester was a lengthy affair. We wound through back alleys, side roads, crossed parking lots and along sidewalks to avoid almost certain death on the car-centric city streets. In the city center, we ran into James and Sashi. In short order, they knew about our trip, and James was showing me holiday photos from a family visit in Antigua. Sashi was sharing with Sharon that he moved from Lisbon to Leicester from a desire for a larger Indian community. Cool guys and a fun chat.

“Fool me once…” right? Since the Brits apparently can’t abide our spontaneous style of travel, we buckled and made plans. We left Leicester with reservations in place for a Bed and Breakfast near Long Buckby. I will grudgingly concede that it was nice to know where we’d be at day’s end.

From the center of town we were able to pick up a bike trail, then a network of quiet lanes and small villages. After a bit of a down day yesterday, this was just fun.

Proof that you may have to grow old – you don’t have to grow up!

Stanford Hall was built in 1690 for Sir Roger Cave. In the 1890’s, an early aviation pioneer named Percy Pilcher built gliders there. He also built a powered flying machine that many historians believe would have been capable of flight. Unfortunately Percy died in an accident beforehe could try it. Curious little bit of history. Another interesting feature of Stanford Hall, is that the River Avon flows through the property. The village of Stanford on Avon is 30-ish miles from the somewhat more well known Stratford upon Avon.

Outside the grocery store in Long Buckby we met the Librarian! She had toured years ago, so we started the conversation with cycling. We quickly moved to life in this lovely, bustling community. Budget constraints had the library slated for closure. Folks were not ready to let that happen. So currently, forty some volunteers run the library. City funds allow them to buy a few books and hire one half-time staff member. Sad, but also inspiring! Way to go Long Buckby. We would have loved to spend more time here, but our home for the evening was an old farmhouse a few miles outside of town. Peaceful and perfect!

Thursday, June 29 (Day 100). Today we found a campground just outside of Banbury. Why Banbury you ask? We found a train from Banbury to Heathrow Airport that allows bicycles and has room for ours. Thus, this will be our last day of touring! Bittersweet to be sure. We thoroughly enjoy life “behind bars“ and will miss our nomadic life. We are also very eager for time with family, friends and our next adventure. With all that in mind – today was the perfect “last” day. One last bit of dodgy route suggestions, beautiful countryside and, as always, amazing, friendly people. I think today I’ll let the pictures do most of the talking.

Fellow cyclists on what they describe as a four day pub crawl bike tour. We found our people – on the last day!

Rolling into the campground I ran into Cliff. He’s the third generation looking after these grounds. He said the campground was closed for the weekend for a large private party on Saturday night. Since we were just looking for one night, we were welcome to stay! Not only that, we were invited down to for a beer later. Turns out the private party was a 75th birthday bash for James, Cliff’s father-in-law. We actually met four generations and were made to feel part of the family.

Friday, June 30 (Day 101). After a short ride back into Banbury, we caught our train. A short time later, we were dropped off near the airport hotel. We quickly found bike boxes, settled in to relax, and planned our tourist campaign in London. One notable event today. Three miles from the hotel, my rear rack broke! I’d say almost perfect timing for a gear failure like that. Zip ties brought us home. I’ll take that as a sign that our trip is rightly over.

I’ll give some London details and a final wrap-up next week. But for now, this seems like a good place to pause. So until next week from the States, cheers from London!

Life Behind Bars #15

On June 26, 2023June 26, 2023 By KBGearDaveIn Biking Stuff, On the Road2 Comments

June 18 – 24, 2023

Sunday, June 18 (Day 89). Imagine driving from Flagstaff to New York City. That’s basically the distance we’ve covered in the last 88 days. People say, “You must be in really good shape!” Thank you! Most days we do feel in good shape…for “biking.” We’ve lost some weight. We may have toned up a bit. But – I can’t say the whole body has gotten on board with the program. Seems like any movement other than cycling causes a great deal of grunting and groaning. So the forecast of heavy rain today was more than enough excuse to spend an extra day in Oxford doing as close to nothing as possible.

Monday, June 19 (Day 90). Sarah and Sharon first met in grade school in Neenah, Wisconsin. After high school their paths diverged, with Sarah landing in England. After a career and lifetime in London, she and Julian have settled an hour north of London. We set off from Oxford, and fifty beautiful, tailwind assisted miles later, we arrived at 35 Church Walk Lane.

If we were in a movie about American cyclists on an adventure in England, this is how Hollywood would have portrayed it. Sarah and Julian live in an idyllic little village, in a modern home with 300 year old bones. Their view is a broad, neatly trimmed park. Across the way a properly old church rests amid centuries old gravestones.

Sharon and Sarah had fun playing catch up, recalling people and events from their childhood together. Finally it was time for a pint at the village pub. With Sarah as our point of contact, we quickly fell in with the local cast of characters. I felt like we were in the English version of “Cheers.” Again, Hollywood could not have scripted a more perfect evening. It was magic!

Tuesday, June 20 (Day 91). Yesterday was catch-up day with the ladies taking a leisurely stroll down memory lane. Today, we got to know the Sarah and Julian of today. Sarah pursued a career in telecommunications. As such, it was fascinating to learn of her role dealing with the crisis of 9/11. At the time, almost all lines used for airline communication were routed through the World Trade Towers. When the buildings came down, crucial links were disrupted. As you can imagine it was rather important to be able to talk to airlines and airplanes! Sarah spent the day helping coordinate the effort to re-establish those critical links. For his part, Julian has had careers in both military and industry. I was blown away by mention of a true “007” moment during his military career. With classic British understatement, he passed it off as “interesting.”

We spent the day touring the area. We were shown beautiful and historic sites, and treated to excellent pub grub. Along the way, we had long conversations about life, politics, issues facing both our countries, work, travel, and on and on. We ended the day with another trip for pints at the Elwes Arms pub. Thank you both for being the perfect hosts.

Wednesday, June 21 (Day 92). The clock continues to tick. We have more to see and fewer days at our disposal. With the aid of local knowledge, we chose to spend the remainder of our time in the Peaks District. After our farewells, we rode to Kettering and caught a train north to Matlock. It is a beautiful town on the edge of the national park, but a bit frantic. We were happy to find a quiet spot along the River Derwent to enjoy a pint. With that important piece of work done, we retreated to our camp site in a closed campground. (We had permission and paid for the privilege.) From there, we planned our next few days. With the numbers of tourists and a weekend approaching, we realized we couldn’t do our usual seat of the pants non-plan.

Thursday, June 22 (Day 93). For the next several days we planned to get off our bikes and onto the local hills. We found both a campground and several trails near the village of Bakewell. Upon arrival we realized that this village deserved a thorough inspection. Along a side street at a seeming dead end, Hazel assured us that we could, in fact, cut through a nearby court yard. That brief exchange led to a longer conversation. Eventually, we ended up in Hazel and John’s living room, sipping prosecco and trading stories. Like many Brits we’ve met, they are seasoned travelers. John has visited, lived, and/or worked in fifty different countries. Hazel has a similar resume and (among other places) lived a year in India and thirteen years in Paris. In the space of three hours, we talked and laughed like old friends. These are absolutely the best moments. Thank you, Hazel and John!

We arrived back at camp to watch the spectacle that is Friday night in a UK campground. A steady stream of vehicles rolled in. The caravans and vans were normal size, unlike the bloated Mad Max behemoths we see in the States. Car campers were a different story. From out of each vehicle came giant, multi-room tents, tables, lounge chairs, portable grills, wind screens. It was a sight to behold.

Friday, June 23 (Day 94) We took our first stab at English walking in the village of Ashford-in-the-Water. We were pleased to learn that Ashford was not actually in the water, but so named because it was near the River Wye. Our walk took us over a ridge past grazing cows and sheep. After a few miles we dropped into the dale (a narrow river valley) and followed it back to Ashford. Thus, to quote the Bard, we walked “over hill, over dale.”

Saturday, June 24 (Day 95). We met James and Jane last summer in Central Turkey. A chance meeting in “Love Valley” led to an evening gathering of world travelers in Goreme. As so often seems to happen with fellow travelers, we formed fast friendships. Since then, we’ve kept in touch. So when we pitched up a short drive from their home in Sheffield, we naturally made plans to meet. They graciously picked us up with a full day plan in place to hike, picnic, pub, and chat.

We drove to the unique village of Eyam. During the plague in 1660-1665, death visited. In an incredible display of selflessness, the villagers voluntarily isolated in order to prevent the spread of the disease. Neighboring villages would leave food at a well in the countryside. Coins for payment would be left in a jug of vinegar to disinfect. Tragically, one-third of the residents would die, but the spread was checked.

James and Jane led us over hill and over dale, all the while offering up a running commentary. A Roman road here. Rock climbing there. The reservoir where the bouncing dam buster bomb was put to the test. And all around, expansive views of the countryside.

Our day with the Halls was a perfect end to this penultimate week here in England. We parted ways, grateful to have had this opportunity to connect, eager to follow their next adventure, and hopeful that our paths will cross again. We hope you’ve enjoyed this portion of the trip as much as we have. Until next week – Seize the Carp!

Life Behind Bars #14

On June 18, 2023June 27, 2023 By KBGearDaveIn Biking Stuff, On the Road4 Comments

June 11 – 17, 2023

Sunday, June 11 (Day 82). After the Eiffel tower, Mont-Saint-Michel is the most visited site in France. As a child I recall being amazed by pictures of this place in National Geographic. Today, we made the short ride from Avranches to visit for ourselves. From any distance, from any angle, it is visually stunning.

The story goes that in the early 900’s the Bishop of Avranche had a vision. He dreamed of a church on what was then just a rocky outcrop. Clearly, people got on board with the idea. Over centuries they constructed the magnificent structures that are Mont-Saint-Michel today. As with so much of antiquity, it is hard to fathom what they accomplished without modern tools.

After getting situated at the campground, we rode out to get a closer look. We quickly realized that while it is truly stunning from the outside, inside every square inch was given over to tourism and tourists. I understand it. I realize we were not “stuck in traffic” – we were traffic. As evidenced by the pictures, we joined the throngs of selfie taking tourists. Still, we quickly tired of shuffling along with the masses, shoulder to shoulder in the narrow streets. We didn’t stay long.

Back in the campground, we started chatting with our neighbor. Mark was a week into a solo, month long journey around France. Given his current trip, it was no surprise to find that from their base near London, he and his family had seen quite a bit of the world. As usual, we enjoyed sharing stories about travel and just – life. We peppered him with questions about his homeland in anticipation of our visit. He graciously offered loads of useful info.

Mark from Richmond. Home of Ted Lasso’s AFC Richmond. Real town – fictitious team.

Monday, June 12 (Day 83). On this flat stretch of coast, the lines between ocean and land were a bit blurred. Sky and ocean were the same gray. With the tide out, water was barely visible across vast mudflats. It was hard to say where “ocean” began and land ended. Even the headwinds seemed equal parts air and water.

We made quick work of the thirty miles to Saint-Malo. The weather cleared slightly and revealed this to be a perfect place to spend our last day in France. We got settled at the city campground and went for a walk. We found World War fortifications, ancient castles, and beautiful harbors. Our exploration built a powerful thirst, and – what are the chances? – we found someone selling beer and cider. From our comfy perch at the Cafe Cancalais, we watch life pass by on the street and out in the harbor.

Back in camp as the skyline disappeared in fog, Mark appeared out of the mist. He came bearing gifts of local fermented cider. What better excuse to stay up later than planned? We learned about house swapping, honeymoon hiking in Bolivia, and the story behind getting a £200/night penthouse suite in Japan for £20. Cheers Mark. Safe travels. Hope to see you in Flagstaff!

Tuesday, June 13 (Day 84). Saint Malo was founded in the 1st century by Celtic tribesmen. Then the Romans took their turn. Much later, it became the famous (infamous?) home to a fleet of corsairs – the French King’s private pirates. These pirates preyed on commercial shipping and brought tremendous wealth into Saint Malo. During WWII, allies believed the Nazis had stockpiled war material inside the city walls. Thus, eighty percent of the city was destroyed by aerial and naval bombardment. After the war, it was decided to meticulously rebuild the city as it had been – in all its medieval glory. That is the city visitors see today…well almost. In addition to the expensive handbags, jewelry, and art similar to what may have been available 400 years ago, today you can also find all manner of cheesy tourist tat.

After a turn around the old city, we settled in at a prime stretch of beach. Until it was time to board the ferry, we people watched. We reminisced about our trip so far. We dared to think ahead to a time off the bikes. Finally it was time to leave. We found our place on board and watched as France faded from view. Au revoir France – it has been a pleasure getting to know you.

Wednesday, June 14 (Day 85). We arrived in Portsmouth fully rested, ready to embrance another new country.

Welcome to England

Since arriving, we’ve been almost overwhelmed by friendly, helpful souls. The gentleman at the terminal entrance offered detailed route instructions. Minutes later a young lady, clearly on her way somewhere else, turned her bike around to make sure we knew where we were going. She arrived seconds before another gentleman asked if we needed guidance. Having won the right to assist by her earlier arrival, she went completely out of her way to lead us along slightly confusing bikepaths. Once we were in the clear, she wished us well and pedaled off. Another woman started chatting at a crosswalk. A lifetime ago she had cycle toured and was keen to share, and also learn about our trip. And so it went all day. Wonderful chats with random people whenever we stopped. We did not realize how much we’ve missed these interactions and conversations over the past three months. Except for a few notable exceptions, the language barrier has kept us rather isolated.

On the streets of Winchester. Brilliant musician with an interesting story.

Mark had prepared us for camping in the UK. Still, it was a shock. Wild camping, while always possible, is not allowed. Campgrounds are fewer, farther between, and much more expensive than on the Continent. So while the campground outside of Winchester was very nice, 33£ for a patch of grass was a bit of a shock.

Thursday, June 15 (Day 86). Today we experienced the England TV shows and movies had prepared us to believe we would find.

The challenge of two way traffic on single width country lanes

English icons: Thatch roof cottage and *(still working)* pay phone

Hills and headwinds made the ride today a challenge, especially to legs grown accustomed to the flat coast of northern France. We loved it. This country seems purpose built for cyclists. Beautiful countryside, streams, and charming villages were a joy to ride through. By far the highlight came later. Rupert and Rosie struck up a conversation while we were cooking dinner. Rupert had, among other things, cycle toured through the Himalayas and India. How is that even possible? He downplayed his epic trips with typical English understatement. Conversation wandered far and wide and too quickly time slipped away. As night settled they had a long walk home, and we needed to be off to bed.

Friday, June 16 (Day 87).

The earth had donned her mantle of brightest green; and shed her richest perfumes abroad. It was the prime and vigour of the year; all things were glad and flourishing.
Charles Dickens – Oliver Twist

Mr. Dickens perfectly described this portion of southern England. Not surprising, given that he was born in Portsmouth where our journey began.

Our arrival here coincided with a heat wave. Because of the heat we’d both run out of water earlier. Passing through town, I happened upon Julian and inquired if he could spare some water for a thirsty cyclist. As he led me into his yard, he asked with a grin, “Fancy some gin?” Actually, no – but thanks for asking. Instead, he filled my bottle with ice cold water from his fridge. Perfection! He insisted I drink up, then refilled the bottle. Then, in addition to the gift of a nice chat, he sent me on my way with two bottles of beer. Thank you Julian!

Julian’s Razor Back Amber Ale paired perfectly with my Mark and Spenser’s spaghetti

Saturday, June 17 (Day 88). You may have heard of Oxford University? It’s this little school that’s been around officially since 1214 (although teaching began in 1096). Yes, you read that right. Over 800 years ago, scholars began gathering in this little English town to impart knowledge. Richard spent two hours sharing stories from the fascinating history surrounding this university. Events and characters include bishops being burned alive, Bloody Mary, Henry the 8th, King James of biblical fame, Lawrence of Arabia, C.S. Lewis, J.R.R Tolkien, English Prime Ministers, Einstein, and even Hogwarts. Over a pint at a 16th century pub, we decided to extend our stay. That allowed us to spend the afternoon wandering, gawking, and soaking in the ambience.

Along the Thames

16th century pub. Also well known from the Inspector Morse tv series

The actual blackboard with Einstein’s explanation of a portion of his theory of relativity as a guest lecturer at Oxford. If my math is correct, what he actually proved is that 1+1 = 3.

One of the uni’s original purpose built structures. More famously, several scenes from Harry Potter were filmed here.

Thus ends another week “behind bars” filled with lovely people and places. We now face the daunting task of decided how best to fill our last two weeks. Check in next Sunday to see what we chose. Until then, STC!

Life Behind Bars #13

On June 11, 2023June 11, 2023 By KBGearDaveIn Biking Stuff, On the Road8 Comments

June 4 – 10, 2023

Sunday, June 4 (Day 75). Scars of World Wars run deep in northern France. After all, France hosted “the war to end all wars” just twenty some years before. Then Germany came calling again to unleash a fresh batch of horrors on the world. The Caen Memorial Museum provides an excellent overview of events leading up to and through the war. It offers both military insights as well as the atrocities visited upon civilians. Consider just one example of what a world under Hitler looked like. The man quoted felt totally justified in mass murder of innocent people because he’d been told “they” they were “the enemy.” Caution: this letter is graphic and disturbing.

The cost in lives and suffering to stop Hitler and his allies was immense. That letter also perfectly illustrates why that price had to be paid. As an aside, it is an abomination to hear almost identical verbage and ideas being espoused by politicians and their followers today. Clearly, the visit to the museum was a moving experience.

It was not entirely a somber day. Sharon enjoyed her exploration of Caen. She got to see the finish of the Liberte’ Half Marathon. We were reminded (again) of item #1 on our “Things we have to remember in France” list? Oh, that’s right! Everything is closed on Sunday. With no groceries available, we were fortunate to find an open restaurant. Of all things, an American themed restaurant, with gen-you-wine country music. Swell!

Monday, June 5 (Day 76). June 6th, 1944 Normany was the site of the largest amphibious assault in history. That was seventy-nine years ago. Ancient history to many, but in this place that history is alive. In every town there are plaques and memorials. We stopped to pay respects to a few of the fallen in one of the many war cemeteries.

Buildings present in old black and white photos are still standing today. All day, military aircraft made low passes along the beach. Eighty-year old military vehicles are buzzing about. As I write this, a WWII Willy’s Jeep just drove by, complete with men in period combat gear. There is something special about walking in the footsteps of history.

We took in this slice of history in a loop north from Caen to the English Channel, west past Sword, Juno and Gold Beaches. Finally we made a run south, with the wind, to end the day in Bayeaux.

Tuesday, June 6 (Day 77). History has judged Operation Overlord a success. On that fateful day seventy-nine years ago, it seems almost nothing went to plan. Landing craft were blown off course, or just blown up. Paratroopers were dropped miles from their objective. Enemy objectives did not have the decency to be where the Allies expected them to be. Perhaps that’s what makes the whole operation so impressive. In spite of the obstacles, on that day and in the days to follow, people just found a way to do what needed to be done.

Given what history teaches about plans, we set out this morning without one. We were simply determined to make the most of whatever came our way. Our first stop was at Port-en-Bessin. By chance we found our way to a memorial dedicated to British Commandos. A plaque on site spoke of their heroism and gave some of the details. I had no idea the enormity of what these men accomplished until I watched this video. (If you’d like, you can watch it here: https://youtu.be/6oX4zVpWhXA )

The day offered up other notable events. Twelve thousand white crosses mark the fallen at the American Cemetery above Omaha Beach. Even with all we’ve seen and read recently, this was somehow especially moving. Our visit happened to coincide with a ceremony featuring several WWII veterans. With a voice much younger than his 98 years, one veteran recounted his experiences. He held his closest friend in the military in his arms and watched him die on this very beach. He left them there to carry out his mission. There were not many dry eyes in the crowd.

Omaha Beach from the site of a German gun emplacement

We left humbled and grateful that so many people were willing to make the ultimate sacrifice to stop evil.

We ended the day in Isigny-sur-Mer. The campground was home to many of the re-enactors we’d seen driving around the Normandy beaches. It was also where we met kindred spirit Sarah from Wrexham (yes, that Wrexham!). It didn’t take long to realize this was not her first rodeo. Before a full time job and career caught up to her, she had traveled the world. Now she squeezes in a bike trip and travel during breaks from work. Great fun sharing stories and laughing. Happy travels Sarah. Hopefully our paths will cross again.

Wednesday, June 7 (Day 78). Nefarious dealings delayed our departure. As we often do, Sharon had left her phone in the bathroom to charge. When she went to collect it – gone! Someone had nicked it. We check the office, asked around a bit. Nothing. Not to be deterred, Sharon ID’d a group of likely phone thieves. She asked them directly if anyone had “found” a phone in the bathroom. Innocent shrugs all around. It seems likely that she rattled them, or a parent stepped up. Shortly after, one of the young men “found” Sharon’s “lost” phone. Don’t mess with Sharon. I’m just glad she’s my friend.

In spite of the late start, we made good progress with a tailwind for the first time in I can’t remember. We passed through Carenton. Somewhat notable for events involving Easy Company portrayed in “Band of Brothers.” Along the way we met a charming couple from Scotland. She 76. He 84. It is amazing all the places you can get to in 30+ years of bike touring. And they are still going strong. They are my new heros!

Beyond that, just another fun day taking in random sights on our way to a spot along the coast for the night.

It is only fitting that the Taylor family scratched their name into the wall of a church that has stood for centuries, survived the Hundred Year’s War, World Wars I & II. Well done buttwipes!! Suggestion for the future – ***Stay Home!***

Over the hills and through the woods thats how grandmother goes!

Thursday, June 8 (Day 79). We began by weaving through clusters of homes scattered along country lanes along the coast. By mid-day though it became apparent that Sharon’s scratchy throat was the start of something worse. We let Google show us the most direct route to Avranches.We’ll spend several nights here to allow both Sharon’s cold and impending bad weather to pass.

Sick or not, we still have to eat. We made our first stop at a proper creperie. The savory crepe introduced me to flavors I’ve never met. It was love at first bite! The dessert crepe had us both trying to lick our plate without looking obvious.

Friday, June 9 (Day 80). Our first impression of Avranches was…meh! The multiple lanes and heavy auto traffic was jarring. It was more like an American city than almost any place we’d been in France. A sightseeing run around town changed my opinion. I started my run at the General George Patton memorial. A few blocks away I stopped to gawk at still another centuries old cathedral (it doesn’t get old). In 1170, King Henry II encouraged (if not outright ordered) the murder of Thomas Becket. He was subsequently excommunicated. Here in Avranches, there is a paving stone where Henry II knelt in 1172 to receive absolution for his involvement (after he agreed to pay the appropriate amount. That’s how forgiveness works, right?). Near that paving stone, high school kids were playing cricket in a park. I stepped out of the way of a passing Tesla after admiring 1,000 year old Mont-st-Michel in the distance. Then ran past a modern football pitch and several clay courts belonging to a local tennis club. Ancient, old and modern all live side by side here in a pleasant mixture.

Saturday, June 10 (Day 81).

Not that we need an excuse to have a truly lazy day, but sickness and bad weather gave us an easy out. I went for a run and did an errand before the rain. Sharon made a trip to the local grocery. We read and listened to books. We did some laundry. We may work up the energy to take a nap. The women’s French Open Finals are today. All in all, a much appreciated rest day. Last year, we covered 3,000 miles in five and a half months. We just passed 2,000 miles in about half the time. True rest days have been rare this time around.

Last night we booked our ferry crossing from St. Malo to Portsmouth. That means after today, we have only three more days in France. As always, the end of our time in a country is bittersweet. We will always cherish our time here. At the same time, it is always exciting to move on to something new. So, that’s all the news fit to print. Until next time – STC!

Life Behind Bars #12

On June 4, 2023June 4, 2023 By KBGearDaveIn Biking Stuff, On the Road2 Comments

May 28 – June 3, 2023

Sunday, May 28 (Day 68). The poem “The Road Not Taken” has always resonated with me. Like many others, I thought it celebrated those who took the “road less traveled” and forged their own path through life. Nope! Turned out Frost was poking fun at a friend who could never decide which path to take on their hikes, then second-guessed his choice. I confess I felt a little crushed when I found out.

However, reading it as the author intended, I did find a little nugget. Having made the choice to follow one path, the narrator said, “Oh, I kept the first for another day! Yet knowing how way leads on to way, I doubted if I should ever come back.” That phrase has always struck me. Every day, we make choices between roads that “equally lay.” Choosing to travel one road means choosing not to travel another equally interesting road. And “Knowing how way leads on to way, I doubt that I shall ever come back.” It is highly unlikely we will ever pass this way again. So maybe, Frost’s message to his friend, and to us, was this…don’t regret roads you can not or have not taken. Celebrate the road road you’re on.

With that thought in mind, we celebrated the remainder of our rest day in La Rochelle. Like so much of Europe, a mix of ancient and modern exists side by side.

We did not regret the roads our train bypassed on the way to Tours. Within minutes of our 9:30pm arrival, we already felt a fondness for this new place. After a short ride, our bikes and bags were safely stowed. From our third floor perch, we watched night settle over the city.

Monday, May 29 (Day 69). Tours was meant to be just a jumping off point for a trip up the Loire River valley. The city wouldn’t let us leave. First, it was “to die for” items from a boulangerie / patisserie to supplement our usual breakfast of yogurt. Then, it was a hidden gem of a botanical garden, followed by cool neighborhoods and yet another stunning church. Lacking the tourist masses, Tours offered a comfortable, welcoming vibe that made us reluctant to move on.

But move on we did. The broad Loire River valley is famous for its magnificent chateaux. The wealth required to build and maintain these mansions is beyond comprehension. I think these folks were not just among the “1%” of their day. They may have been the original 1/10 of 1% -ers. We followed the river and rode the countryside to Chaumont-sur-Loire with plans to visit the Chateau Chaumont on Tuesday.

Passing through Amboise, we met a cycling family from Canada with two young children. We were fortunate to meet this impressive family again in the campground. Since I’m on a poetry kick this week, I’ll share some Robert Service.

There’s a race of men that don’t fit in, A race that can’t stay still; So they break the hearts of kith and kin and they roam the world at will. They range the field and they rove the flood, and they climb the mountain’s crest; Theirs is the curse of the gypsy blood, And they don’t know how to rest.
Robert Service

I thought of this poem after talking to Andres (Italian and Costa Rican) and Eve Marie (French Canadian). They have seriously roamed the world at will, and definitely have “the curse of the gypsy blood.” They have been everywhere! Recently their travels have included Dahlia (8) and Diego (2). Impressively, Dahlia already knows four languages and is more than holding her own bicycling on this family outing. We never cease being amazed at the lifestyle some people choose. Impressive!

Tuesday, May 30 (Day 70). Perhaps the most famous owner of the Chateau Chaumont was Catherine de Medici – Queen of France from 1547 to 1559. Nostradamus was one of her guests at this lavish estate. In an interesting twist, after the death of her husband, the King, Catherine forced his mistress to give her the Chateau de Chenonceau. The mistress had received that chateau as gift from Catherine’s husband. In exchange, the mistress received the Chateau Chaumont. You can’t make this stuff up. Some version of this Chateau has perched on this hilltop for 1,000 years.

As impressive as it was, we both were a bit put off. It is hard to appreciate the opulence and lavish lifestyle, given the abject poverty experienced by so many who lived in the Chateau’s shadow. It didn’t help that at one point, one of the owners moved 155 people from their homes near the chateau. He wanted to indulge his fantasy of having a sprawling English style garden. Those “nobodies” were simply in the way. So, all very interesting, but we decided one chateau was enough.

Wednesday, May 31 (Day 71).

In the last two and a half months, The thesaurus has been given a workout. I continue to run out of adjectives to describe our experience. You might not know it from many of our pictures, but not every day is filled with “stunning” or “magnificent!” Some days are just “nice” or “pleasant.” Today was such a day. We left the Loire River and made our way generally north. We enjoyed the scenery. We enjoyed people watching in the small towns and villages along the way. We enjoyed cycling over hills, through valleys, and along broad river bottoms. It was all very “nice.” We’re OK with that.

When we rolled into our home for the evening, Robert and Christina from Belgium were among the handful of people in the campground. We chatted long enough to feel comfortable asking to cool our beer in their freezer while we prepped dinner. To our surprise and delight, Robert came over to share some of their dinner with us. We feasted on delicious chicken, potatoes, and mushrooms. What a treat! And what a treat to wash it all down with icy cold Belgian beer. How appropriate.

Thursday, June 1 (Day 72). Today was a repeat of yesterday. Rolling hills, forests, and open countryside. We started a bit earlier than has been our habit, and covered twenty miles by 10:30am. Other than a mid-morning food stop, we kept pushing all day with our eyes on the clock. We were on a mission…to find reliable wifi.

For Flagstaff residents, 6:00am, June 1st has almost mythic status. All across town, people will rise early and sit with fingers hovering over keyboards, waiting for the clock to tick over to exactly 6:00am. At that precise moment, registration opens for the Imogene Pass Run. After a few years absence, we are resuming our annual pilgrimage to the land of majestic vistas and soul-crushing uphills. We checked and double-checked the time difference. At precisely 2:00pm, we were perched in a Super U grocery store poaching their wifi. By 6:13am, every one of the 1,500 spots had been taken. Happily, two of those spots belonged to us.

Snagging a coveted Imogene entry is excitement enough for one day. And, given that we’d already pushed hard for fifty miles, there was nothing left to do but secure a place in the local municipal campground. La Vie est Belle!

Friday, June 2 (Day 73). Definition: Hard Date. A fixed point in space and time that demands our presence at said point. We don’t like hard dates. Exhibit A. Several days ago we contacted a Warmshower host in Caen. Can he host us? Yes, but only Saturday and Sunday nights. A few days ago, that sounded fine. Suddenly, we had a hard date. We woke with the daunting prospect of two more fifty mile days against strong headwinds. This after already riding two long days against persistent headwinds. Making the decision to pass on the Warmshower opportunity was like flipping a switch. Suddenly a great weight had been lifted. We relaxed and began truly enjoying the day.

Based on the suggestion of a local cyclist, we took a longer, more picturesque route. We explored small villages. And even though we had set our sights on a town down the road, St Leonard du Bois seduced us with one of the more lovely settings for a campground. Be gone Evil Hard Dates!

Saturday, June 3 (Day 74). During our (OK, mostly Sharon’s) evening ritual of plotting a route, we hit a snag. Routes from here to Caen seem to be either direct and busy, or scenic and much farther. Remember the ticking clock? New plan. We spent the morning up the road in the lovely village of Saint-Ceneri-le-Gerei.

Next stop Alencon, and a train to Caen. I want to indulge my history passion, and what better place than the Normandy coast around the anniversary of D-Day. We want time to do justice in recalling the significant events that took place in this region. That was brought painfully home when we stopped by the Chateau Alencon. During WWII, the Chateau was used by the Gestapo as a place to store and torture members of the French resistance. These, and similar events ought not be forgotten.

These ancient buildings are just the visible reminders of times past. Real history is the stories of real people. People who lived, dreamed, strove, suffered, succeeded, and eventually passed into history. We are very much looking forward to learning more about the people and events in Normandy. Until next week…STC!

Life Behind (handle) Bars #11

On May 28, 2023May 30, 2023 By KBGearDaveIn Biking Stuff, On the Road5 Comments

May 21 – 27, 2023

Sunday, May 21 (Day 61). After twelve straight days of cycling, today was a much appreciated day of rest. Anne, Sharon and I each spent time doing our own thing. Then, we spent hours talking, sharing stories, and learning more about this fascinating couple. A decade ago, while their children were still young, Anne and Marcellin took a year sabbatical to travel around the world…literally around the world! They used public transport in each of the countries they visited. Their home is filled with intriguing photos from their journey. Anne even wrote a book about their adventure, which, alas, is in French. Fortunately, we had the author all to ourselves to hear about that trip, and many of their other travels first hand.

After talking to Anne and Marcellin, and sharing some of our own stories – it struck me. In the last few years we’ve met dozens of cyclists who have traveled to the corners of the globe. Missing from all their stories was any mention of dangerous or scary encounters. Instead, every traveler has their favorite stories about gifts of food and drink, invites into people’s homes, help with problems, and countless other acts of kindness and generosity. We can add our own experiences to the list. These are not fools unconcerned about safety, or Pollyanas blindly wishing away danger. From the “safety” of the living room, too many believe the worst about the world. I believe these collective experiences prove Aldous Huxley’s observation, “To travel is to discover that everyone is wrong about other countries.” And from Shirley Maclaine, “Fear makes strangers of those who would be friends.” I’ll let you draw your own conclusions. These are just a few random thoughts from a former strangers house in the south of France.

Monday, May 22 (Day 62). Being Monday, our world traveler friends had more mundane travel to accomplish. Anne to her high school teaching job and Marcellin to his engineering job with Airbus. We chose to travel on the #365 bus into Toulouse with a list of sights to see. They were worth seeing. The Garonne river front. A thousand year old altar in an even older church. The depiction on an altar of the bull that dragged an early martyr to his death. The street also named after that same bull. Narrow streets. Grand squares and promenades.

turn on your sound…

The day ended in true French fashion. Sharing a meal, wine, leftover champagne (thank you Jean Bernard and Celine!), a tiny glass of “calvados (sneaky, wicked Normandy home brew), and once again, stimulating conversation. The late hour at which we retired was proof of a good time had by all.

Tuesday, May 23 (Day 63). Anne and Marcellin are why we travel. Well, not them specifically, but people like them. They are curious about the world and curious about people. They have been the recipients of generosity and freely return the favor. Time spent with them, and people like them, is both relaxing and uplifting. Thus, while we were sad to pedal away, we were also re-energized and excited to be on the road again. Merci beaucoup!

In the interest of time, we chose an hour train ride to Auch to save a day of riding. Initially we thought of Auch only as the end of the train ride. Turned out to be much more than that.

A local woman approached us to say the locals despise this statue of the Three Muskateers. Interesting. She didn’t say why.

The train assist allowed us to reach the town of Condom. Yes, you read that correctly. Snicker away. The name is from ancient Gaullic and apparently means a market at a confuence of streams. We plan on seeing the town itself tomorrow. Today, we enjoyed the sunny warm weather in the Condom Campground.

Wednesday, May 24 (Day 64). After breakfast, narrow country lanes took us north to the Canal du Garonne. This canal is the prettier, younger sister of the Canal du Midi. One hundred plus year old Plane trees line the Canal. The trail alongside the canal is smooth pavement compared to the rough gravel along much of the Canal du Midi. Without much effort, we put fifty miles behind us.

Today we had no destination in mind. About the time we decided we were “done” a random campground appeared. We took a flyer and ended up at a farm/campground in amongst the pigs, goats, donkeys, and cows. The shower was bog-standard ancient caravan (in American English, a tiny shower in a tattered, old camp trailer). The couple who seemed to own the place were friendly enough. She walked us through knee-high grass to a spot next to the goat pen and disappeared. No registration. No money changed hands. It’s a lovely setting, just a bit odd.

Sharon hanging with her new goat friends.

Thursday, May 25 (Day 65). We entered our tent last night with plans to continue cycling toward Bordeaux. We left our tent this morning with train tickets to Bordeaux, and tickets to Tours tomorrow. Turns out the world is a big place. We travel slowly. And perhaps, more pertinent, the clock is tick – tick – ticking. It would be impossible to see even a fraction of what we’d like to see in the three -ish weeks we have left in France. Time to fast forward again.

Bordeaux is an elegant city, often called “Little Paris.” Locals scoff and suggest Paris should be called “Big Bordeaux!” It has the usual colorful history. Rome, Goths, Visigoths, France, England and a host of minor players all held power at one point or another. Bordeaux and all Acquitane were actually English territory for almost three hundred years. Thank you Eleanor d’ Acquitane. Look her up. She is a fascinating individual.

After our guided walking tour, Aussie Paul invited us for drinks. What a hoot! He is currently motorcycling around Europe (among other things) and was the source of one hilarious story after another. If we ever get Down Under, he has motorcycles and a sailboat he’s willing to share. Hmmmm.

Friday, May 26 (Day 66). We’ve been boasting about the French train system for weeks now. We were looking forward to another painless segment on our march north. Imagine our surprise at being booted off and left standing on the quai as the train pulled out of the station. We had arrived on time. We had our tickets. Our bikes, however, were not welcome! We had failed to book passage for our trusty steeds! Thus the stern “NOT possible!” as we were shown the door. Well – shoot!

This led to a very pleasant chat with the one english speaking ticket agent. She tried every combination of trains and destinations in the French rail system to get us north. All to no avail. We finally booked passage as far as La Rochelle. Then with a wink and conspiritorial whisper, she suggested we play dumb tourist and stay on the train beyond La Rochelle to our original destination.

We were tempted, and it probably would have worked. In the end, we played it straight and rolled off at La Rochelle. Less than a mile from the station, we added our tent to the dozen other cyclist tents in a fun municipal campground close to the Ocean Atlantique. So far, we’ve met Rose, a young lady from Holland on her 3rd solo cycling journey. Steph and Aaron from New Zealand are hard-core travelers. They have a deep well from which to draw stories. I’ll share just one. Having made a spur of the moment decision to buy a well loved and well-used Land Rover, they made the obvious decision to drive from Morocco to South Africa. I mean, what else would you do with a Land Rover? We’re looking forward to some adult beverages and more story time tomorrow night as well.

Saturday, May 27 (Day 67). One bad experience has not put us off train travel. With a slightly more careful eye for details, we think we’ve booked passage to Tours on Sunday afternoon. That means two days in La Rochelle. We spent our Saturday “rest day” exploring Ile de Re. The island is criss-crossed with cycle paths connecting charming (touristic) villages. It is a cyclists dream, especially for us without the weight of our gear.

Back at camp, our impromptu circle of new friends grew to include Muriel (France) and Roy (Ireland). The beer, stories, and laughter flowed freely into the evening. It was magic. I’ll say it again, it is what makes cycle touring so special. So, thank you Anne, Marcellin, Paul, Steph, Aaron, Rose, Roy, and Muriel for giving us the gift of your time and sharing your journey and stories. Until next week…STC!

Rose serenading Steph, Aaron and all the cyclists in our part of camp.

Life Behind Bars #10

On May 21, 2023May 23, 2023 By KBGearDaveIn Biking Stuff, On the Road8 Comments

May 14 – 20, 2023 (France)

Sunday, May 14 (Day 54). From 1309 to 1377 several popes moved their home from Rome to Avignon. This did not sit well with critics back in Italy who described Avignon as “Babylon”, as a place where the winter mistral winds blow bitterly, and as “a sewer where all the muck of the universe collects.” High praise indeed! It was also said that even the best of those popes were more concerned with power and earthly delights than in ministering to their earthly flock. Just one fascinating little morsel of history from this fascinating city.

Another Avignon fun fact: on Sunday almost everything is closed. With no baguettes or breakfast to be had, we crossed the Rhone and set out in search of food – and our next fascinating French town. Along the way, we crossed paths with two Austrian sisters. They were riding from their home on the way to complete the Camino de Santiago. Two years earlier the same trip had been cut short by an accident in Pamplona. The sisters and I laughed and talked. Meanwhile Sharon was sharing stories with a German couple on a two month trip…with their black lab! I understand people like their pets – but that is next level commitment. We have missed these interactions with other travelers, so this was a real treat.

Ever since our traumatic hail storm experience outside of Arles, we’ve been trying to run and hide from the rain. It caught up to us outside of Remoulins and tried to deliver another soaking. We were prepared this time. As soon as we realized what Rain was up to, we retreated to a comfy shelter! Score one for Dave and Sharon.

In Remoulins we heard about a unique bull fight scheduled to take place a few hours later. In this event, the matador doesn’t kill the bull. Rather, he attempts to grab tassels or balls affixed to the bulls horns. Sounds crazy! We were tempted, but we were hungry and tired and chose instead to head to camp. We treated ourselves to a tasty pizza at the campground restaurant. This was followed by a shower, stretching, planning, relaxing, and chatting with family. It was a good day!

Monday, May 15 (Day 55). The Pont du Gard offers a master class in Roman engineering. In ancient times, a thirty-one mile long aquaduct supplied water to the ancient Roman city of Nemausus, now known as Nimes. The Pont du Gard (Gard River Bridge) is the most visible remaining segment. The level of precision they achieved, on such a grand scale, with ancient tools – it almost defies belief. It certainly challenges the arrogant belief that because we have smart phones and can post selfies on social media, we are so much smarter than people 2,000 years ago.

Speaking of how smart we are…the story is told of a couple who rented a car in Las Vegas. They entered their destination in the GPS, and then blindly followed as the device took them farther and farther into the desert. Never questioning the computer’s guidance, they eventually got stuck crossing a sandy wash. Which is where searchers later recovered their bodies. That’s how computers are going to take over the world. No Terminators or nukes. They will simply foster total reliance (and trust) and then get us hopelessly lost.

I was reminded of this story as we once again made the mistake of blindly following Komoot (one of our map apps). It started by sending us down decent gravel roads along fields and past farms. OK. Then the roads got smaller and rougher. Can’t last long! We should have gotten suspicious when it directed us into a farmer’s barnyard where we received a hearty tongue lashing. We should have retreated, but you know the saying, if you find yourself in a hole – keep digging! At one point, we found ourselves dragging our bikes along rocky paths that would have made a mountain goat question his life choices. If I’m honest there might have been some thrown helmets and angry words as we questioned certain life choices. I believe the old saying is true. “Whatever doesn’t kill you can still suck!” No doubt Komoot (and Skynet) were mightily disappointed that we survived.

We, on the other hand, were quite happy to have survived and returned to the warm embrace of civiliation. We were happier still to find a well stocked grocery and a comfortable campground outside Quissac. Nothing like food, a shower, and protection from the wind to improve one’s outlook.

Tuesday, May 16 (Day 56). We’ve been on the road now for eight weeks. It would be unrealistic spectacular all the time. So we are not at all surprised that the last few days have been nice, but in many ways, unspectacular. That changed today. From Quissac to Ganges, we were treated to a nicely paved old railroad line. Dramatic mountains loomed above as we rode through agreeably picturesque villages. Leaving the rail line, we followed the Vie River before climbing onto a high plateau. We topped out at Mondardian with a storybook chateau perched high and master of all it surveyed.

The only blot on this otherwise spectacular day, was the presence of an angry headwind. Frequent gusts felt like someone pounding their fist on a table during an argument. It was wearying. It felt good to finally find some shelter at a campground near Blandas. Our neighbors, Jacques and Elsbeth were backpacking across this part of France. Our conversation with them brought the day to a perfect close.

Wednesday, May 17 (Day 57). We awoke to the sound of wind tearing at the trees in our campground. It was the sad sound of another long day of battle with the elements. Then serendipity struck! It took such concentration to stay upright and moving forward, that we missed a turn. When we stopped to get our bearings in Le Caylar, we realized our mistake. At that precise moment, Hubert introduced himself. After only a brief conversation, he insisted we join him for lunch.

What followed could only be described as magical. With practiced ease, he plied us with chamomille apertif, salads, leftovers, bread, cheese, home made jams, wine. He shared details about his annual festival devoted to sharing the joys of “slow travel.” Every year people come to share their stories of moving slowly through the world, on foot, by bicycle, following flocks of sheep, or working and walking around their gardens. Only later did we find out that Hubert and his festival are quite famous. We were honored to have been the recipients of his generosity. And to think, if we hadn’t taken a wrong turn…

While we were with Hubert, we also made the decision to stop beating our heads against a brick wall. The wind wasn’t going to change – so we did. With Hubert’s help, we plotted a more southerly route to take advantage of the wind. We are so glad we did. Hubert sent us through beautiful villages and along a high ridge with expansive views in all directions. We coasted downhill for miles at a time. Four days of incessant wind had taken a physical and mental toll on us. Hubert and a tailwind were exactly what we needed. We ended the day in a quiet spot along the d’Orb River.

Thursday, May 18 (Day 58). Today was a big day. We’ve been making our way toward Toulouse with the goal of meeting with Anne and Marcellin. Our desired time frame meant that we needed to cover fifty miles. Once again an old railroad line made for easier cycling for much of the way. Tunnels smoothed out the hills, and the landscape protected us a bit from the wind (it found us again). One big climb out of the d’Orb River valley allowed us to coast down into the broad plain that lies between these mountains and the Pyrenees.

Immediately upon arrival at camp, Jan and his wife from the Netherlands struck up a conversation. They have toured extensively, including a lengthy trip around the western states forty-three years ago. They adopted us and introduced us to some of their friends in the campground. Dinner, conversation, live music and good company. La Vie est belle.

Friday, May 19 (Day 59). We had already decided to take a train into Toulouse. Our next decision was where to catch the train. Straight south twelve miles to Lezignan-Corbieres, or twenty-four miles east-southeast to Carcassonne along the famous Canal du Midi. We chose Carcassonne…and we chose poorly. Light rain and, you guessed it, stiff headwinds made the journey a challege. And somehow, twenty-four miles became thirty-two by the time we arrived. Still, the Canal du Midi was interesting. Built in the 1600’s using 12,000 men with picks and shovels – it was an engineering marvel. It ultimately fulfilled a dream of the time to connect the Atlantic and the Mediterranean Sea.

After consulting with Ann, we found a place to spend the night in Carcassonne. This city is home to the best preserved and well known medieval fortified city in France. It is definitely worthy of a more thorough examination. Crossing the river on the way to the Aude gate, the view is absolutely stunning.

Saturday, May 20 (Day 60). Another train day. Carcassonne to Toulouse. Toulouse to Brax-Leguevin. And there at the station was Anne, with a huge grin and la bise (the French double kiss).

It has been a long journey to get this point, and not just in distance. We met Ann and Marcellin one year ago on the island of Mljet in Croatia. We were just arriving, they were taking the ferry to the mainland. We talked for no more than ten minutes, but immediately recognized kindred spirits. Since we were traveling at roughly the same speed in roughly the same direction, we exchanged contact info and expected to meet again in a few days. Then Covid waylaid us, and our planned meet up never happened. We stayed in touch, however, and always hoped to reconnect. Today was the day!

Ann led us on a merry chase through the countryside to their home in Fonsorbe. While Marcellin was away attending an orienteering competition with their son and daughter, Ann was the perfect host. We ate. We talked. We learned about their ’round the world travels and life in France. Then we met Celine and Jean Bernard, Ann’s university friend and husband, down from Paris for a long weekend. They offered advice on “must see” places that could keep us occupied for months. It will be challege to cull the list to accomodate our remaining three weeks in France. We continued on to enjoy an afternoon and evening of food, laughter, and stimulating conversation. No traveler could hope for a more convivial setting.

This has been a week of mental and physical highs and lows. It certainly ended on a high note. After some more rest, we are looking forward to the exploring the “insiders” France laid for us. Until next week…STC!

Life Behind Bars #9

On May 14, 2023May 14, 2023 By KBGearDaveIn Biking Stuff, On the Road3 Comments

May 7 – 13, 2023 (France)

Sunday, May 7 (Day 47). We have no right to complain. Rain of any kind has been conspicously absent from our journey. Still, it is disheartening to see the rain icon show up almost every day in the ten day forecast. What to do? In all our months and miles of cycling the last few years, we have not had to confront more than a few wet days at a time. So, this is definitely a new challenge for us.

First solution – travel to a scenic mountain town and throw money at the problem. We arrived in Lourdes just ahead of the rain last night and checked into the Hotel St. Marie. Today we relaxed in our room, guilt free, and watched the clouds empty. It was.. lovely. Most of our “rest” days involve walking for miles to explore whatever town we happen to be in. Thank you rain for giving us permission to be lazy.

During a break in the weather, we did wander out to view the spectacle that is Lourdes. In 1858 a local girl named Bernadette claimed to have seen and spoken to the Virgin Mary. Now, every day thousands, and every year millions flock here hoping that Mary or Bernadette will see fit to heal the many maladies these pilgrims bring to Lourdes.

One of the twice daily processions of thousands of supplicants

Monday, May 8 (Day 48). Being supine yesterday was divine. We read books. We watched videos. Sharon did Polarsteps. I worked on the blog, among other chores. Today, however, is the only day without rain in the foreseeable future. Sharon opted for some alone time and more rest. I decided to push farther into the Pyrenees. Without the weight of gear on my bike, the hours of climbing passed quickly. I ended up at the ski village of Gavarnie. C’etait tres beau – it was very beautiful.

Tuesday, May 9 (Day 49). We fled the Pyrenees under heavy skies and made it as far as Tarbes before the rain gear came out. I should note that riding in the rain is not quite as unpleasant as it sounds or, no doubt, looks to passing motorists. Our tent is adequately waterproof, so sleeping in the rain is not a problem. The problem is setting up the tent in the rain. And cooking in the rain. And in the morning packing a soaked tent…in the rain. And setting up a saturated tent the next night after riding in the rain all day. Faced with those challenges – we threw more money at the foul weather. Welcome to the very nice, but eerily empty, Loft Hotel in Trie-sur-Baises.

Wednesday, May 10 (Day 50). Last summer we met fellow cyclists Ann and Marcellin on the island of Mljet in Croatia. We’ve kept in touch the past year, and they have graciously invited us to stay with them. Last night, our plan was to endure a few more wet days to reach their home in Toulouse. That was the plan last night. Twelve hours later we were heading in the opposite direction. Uphill, against the wind, in pouring rain – the trifecta of enjoyable riding conditions I might add. “Why?” you may ask. Because of this.

Moisture with no end in sight. So we rode south. And at the end of our soggy journey we boarded a magic carpet of sorts. Five hours and 240 miles later, our magic carpet (train) delivered us to the sunny Mediterranean coast, and to the city of Montpellier. A huge thumbs up to yet another country that makes train travel fast, simple, and affordable.

The view from our magic carpet

That’s mph kids! Smooth and quiet! Oh, and bikes ride free!

Shortly after arriving in Montpellier we went into a park across from the station to get our bearings. We noticed that there seemed to be an unusually heavy police presence. One friendly and very intimidating officer questioned us about our trip. It seemed simple curiosity…but perhaps it was more? They were checking papers of all the people in our park. Several officers had detained a motorcyclist just outside the park. Neither of us picked up on any danger vibes, but we wondered if we were misreading our surroundings. Welcome to Montpellier.

Thursday, May 11 (Day 51). For a variety of reasons, we chose to stay in town until mid-afternoon. Sharon went sightseeing. I worked on the bikes, watched people and listened to a book on tape. At the appointed afternoon hour, we headed out of town. Beach time on the Med did not disappoint. Then it was dinner in a park off the beach. Then it was off to our carefully researched (thanks Google maps). It was especially gratifying to find a secluded little spot in a very busy touristic area.

Montepellier apartment, five star dining, the view from our bedroom.

Friday, May 12 (Day 52). We set our sights on Arles today. Mother Nature set her sights on us. Oh, how She toyed with us. A helpful tailwind over flat terrain made us believe all was right with the world. It even encouraged us to ignore the building clouds and take our time seeing the sights. There was the walled city of Aigues-Mortes (literally dead waters). It was built near the marshes at the mouth of the Rhone Riverby Louis IX in 1240. It was meant to provide a Mediterranean port from which to launch the Crusades.

Even when thunder and lightning started, we thought we would easily make it to Arles before it got bad. We felt comfortable stopping to chat for a while with Laine and Benoit from Montreal. They are touring this part of Europe for a month. They too have made significant changes to their plans because of the weather. We exchanged contact info and made plans to meet up later for drinks and more conversation.

Then, with only a handful of miles left to Arles, all hell broke loose! A light rain suddenly changed into this psychotic Flagstaff gully washer monsoon rain, complete with the electrical sound and light show. Then the waterfall changed to pea and marble sized hail…even better! We were stunned by the ferocity of the storm. We rode furiously for ten minutes without finding any kind of shelter. It was getting a bit desparate when we spied a carport down a side road. Without ever meeting the owners, we huddled there for close to an hour while the barrage continued.

We had planned to camp in Arles. Big surprise – before leaving the carport we had a room for the night.

Saturday, May 13 (Day 53). Arles has been around since at least the sixth century B.C. Julius Ceasar made it the capital of Roman Provence in the first century AD. The ampitheater and 20,000 seat coliseum, still in use today, date from that time. Although today, the coliseum is no longer used for chariot races or gladiatoral combat.

Arles was a fascinating mix of modern, old, and really old. Upscale and run down. Touristic, posh, and working class. After wandering, we joined the masses at the Saturday open-air market. You could buy mattresses, squid, dresses, produce and pastry. Having sampled the last two items, we made our way to Avignon. As usual, we enjoyed several stops along the way.

This week ends with us safely in Avignon, another historically important city. While we’ve enjoyed both natural and man made beauty, rain has been and continues to be the big story. It will be interesting to see where we go and how we cope in the coming days. Until then… STC!

Life Behind Bars #8

On May 7, 2023May 7, 2023 By KBGearDaveIn Biking Stuff, On the Road1 Comment

April 30 – May 6

Sunday, April 30 (Day 39). The year is 1937. You’re Hitler and you have this shiny new toy called the Luftwaffe. What better way to see what it can do than to loan it to another dictator in the making? On April 26th, at the behest of Francisco Franco, the city of Guernica was leveled by aerial bombardment. 1,800 civilians lost their lives. Countless others were injured and left homeless. As history has repeatedly shown, there seems to be no limit to man’s capacity for barbaric cruelty.

We visited Guernica 86 years later, almost to the day. We found a restored city full of life. Just as we arrived at city center, runners and mountain bikers were beginning to complete their respective races. We joined the crowds in cheering their accomplishments. Sitting in the nearby plaza, we watched couples stroll, children play, and people enjoying coffee, cigarettes, and conversation. On this peaceful, sunny April day, it is hard to imagine the horror of that earlier time.

The rest of the day was just more of the wonderland that is the Basque region.

Monday, May 1 (Day 40). Back in the day, when a whale was spotted in the Bay of Biscay, rowing crews jumped into their “trainera” boats, and raced after it. Whoever landed the first harpoon had first claim on the animal. Fishermen used the same boats to race back to port with their catch. Whoever arrived first got the best price. Those same boats raced out to sailing ships that needed a tow into harbor. Whoever arrived first got a lucrative job. Are you seeing a theme? Little wonder that crews from different towns eventually began racing for bragging rights. That sport lives on today. All along the Basque coast we’ve seen trainera crews both training and racing.

Yesterday we took our time, exploring every little town in our path. Today, we had the pleasure of unfavorable winds, dodgy weather, but stunning scenery, so we just plugged along. At times, we were again puzzled by our map apps choice of routes. By the time we arrived in San Sebastian/Donostia (Spanish name/Basque name) the weather had cleared. We found our way to “Rooms in the City Hostel” located in what seemed to be a former convent. Awesome staff. Great location only two blocks away from the famous Donostia beach. We shall happily spend two nights here. To celebrate reaching the 1,000 mile mark on this trip, we treated ourselves to some tasty pizza, sangria and house wine. Living large!!

1,000 miles, trainera races, and questionable route choices

Tuesday, May 2 (Day 41). Walking along the quay in Donostia, I watched a sailboat leave the harbor. I think one reason I find sea ports appealing is the realization that from this spot, with the proper boat, one could literally travel the globe. The mind reels at the possibilities. To quote Annie Lennox, “Sweet dreams are made of these!”

Whilst dreaming, and wandering, we met Lillian and Steven from Vancouver. They were interested in our trip, and had done some significant traveling themselves. In a few days, they were embarking on a supported bike trip with friends, also here in the north. Always a pleasure making new acquaintances.

Many of our “rest” days are not very restful. Food, however, is a constant, Since we logged several miles exploring, it seemed prudent to refuel at a pinxtos bar. These establishments display a variety of small appetizers on slices of bread. In the south, these are called tapas bars. Here in Basque country – pinxtos. The idea is to nibble your way through the night with your friends. We’d walked enough, so we just stayed put and tried on new tastes for size. They fit well.

Breakfast, laundry day, Basque political posters, and images from around town.

Wednesday, May 3 (Day 42). Today we bid adios to Spain and bonjour to France. A new country is always a big event… usually. Non-stop city driving on busy streets and highways took its toll. Thus, our big entrance was kind of a non-event.

So, not a great travel day. It was a good day for making new friends. As we were leaving the hostel, Brianne and Kristin were just arriving. Friends from the U.S., they were about to hike the Camino de Santiago. Fun fact: Brianne has bicycled across the U.S. with former boyfriend – David Moore. (Honest Sharon, it wasn’t me!) While we were sharing stories, Emmanuel from France joined the conversation. He was biking from the north of France to southern Spain – on his first ever bike tour. Bon voyage to all.

Next up was Mick and Lillian from the UK. Our age, they were stretching their version of a “gap year” into several years of wandering – before retiring. Good on you mate! We chatted for hours about life in the UK, the US, visiting Spain, France, Europe. We got serious. And we laughed – a lot! Thanks for a wonderful evening!

Thursday, May 4 (Day 43). Saint-Jean-de-Luz is another stunning harbor city. Perfect for breakfast and people watching. Several miles on, we stopped for a break at Biarritz to enjoy the scenery once again, and watch hundreds of surfers making the Beach Boys proud. As much as we’ve enjoyed the coast, once we reached Bayonne, we turned right and headed inland. The rest of the day we followed the Adour River. We rolled easily through the charming (and flat) French countryside, through small villages and past vineyards. We congratulated ourselves often on the wisdom of our choice.

Friday, May 5 (Day 44). Most of this day was spent in the pleasant company of the Gave de Pau River, a tributary of the Adour. As Sharon likes to say, it was bucolic – “relating to the pleasant aspects of the countryside and country life.” It most certainly was. In addition to the ‘pleasant aspects of the countryside’ France is also well known for its cycling routes. The D81 was one such route that led us down country lanes, through villages, and along the Gave de Pau, and finally to the outskirts of Pau itself. It was a good day. At sixty-five miles plus, it was also the longest day of this trip.

Saturday, May 6 (Day 45). Reason #437 why bikes really are the best way to travel. On our way into city center, we spied interesting activity in a park across the street. We easily crossed over to explore. A woman saw us roll up on our bikes and immediately came over to explain the game. The rules of Les Quilles de Neuf escaped us, but generally involved heaving a large wooden ball to knock over upright pegs in a very specific fashion. Two seasoned players were offering instructions to an eager group of beginners. We happily joined in cheering and laughing at the efforts.

In Pau proper, we rode along a portion the Formula 1 course being set up for an upcoming race. I am most certainly not an auto racing fan, but this looks like it would be an extremely challenging and entertaining course. And right in the shadow of that course lies Le Tour des Geants…a permanent memorial to all Tour De France winners. It was fascinating to look at the photos of the races and racers through the years. Apparently, every year the Tour launches riders into the Pyrenees from Pau.

Unsure of what we’d feel like after our big day yesterday, we pondered taking a short train ride to Lourdes. Without much help from the help desk folks, we even bought tickets – only to find out that the first train that allowed bikes didn’t leave until 5:30pm. Hmmm. Eventually we just rode the additional thirty miles up an into the Pyrenees through more quintessential French countryside.

Entering the Pyrenees

Having secured lodging in anticipation of several days of nasty weather, we went in search of, and found, the best meal of the trip – by far. As promised, a noisy thunderstorm hit just as we returned to our hotel. Perfect end to an exceptional day.

It has been a good week, filled with both physical and emotional ups, downs, and smooth sailing. Not unlike life anywhere and everywhere. We are very much looking forward to a rainy rest day tomorrow while we consider our options. Until next week! Seize the Carp!

Life Behind Bars – #7

On April 30, 2023April 30, 2023 By KBGearDaveIn Biking Stuff, On the Road5 Comments

April 23 – 29, 2023

Sunday, April 23 (Day 33). Deep in the woods a few miles outside Covarrubias, we expected only the sounds of silence. We were not expecting an all-night concert (literally ALL night) from the direction of town. My beloved not only slept through it all, she added her very wind instrument melodies to the music. Fortunately, we only had a short twenty-five miles to Burgos, so a lack of sleep wasn’t an issue.

In the past we’ve had massively stressful rides entering larger U.S. cities. What a delight to enter Burgos on a dedicated bike path that took us into the heart of the city.

And what a heart Burgos has. It is a modern city that seamlessly embraces its past. Modern apartments overlook charming old promenades. Winding side streets branch off boulevards full of traffic. Modern shops exist in the shadow of an 800 year old Gothic cathedral and other historic buildings. It works. We walked to stretch our legs and get our bearings. We then took shelter from the cold wind and rain.

Monday, April 24 ( Day 34). As the city was waking, we set off in different directions to explore. Sharon wandered neighborhoods. I ran along the Rio Arlanzon, then climbed to the Burgos castle. This medieval fortification was updated by Napolean and was the site of an important battle between his forces and England’s Wellington.

Several highlights today. Top of the list, meeting Tim and Milo, kindred spirits from South Africa and Germany. In the past five years, they’ve traveled the globe by foot and bicycle. Like other world travelers we’ve met, they have an exuberant curiosity and infectious enthusiasm. What a joy to share stories, beer, and laughter for an all too brief time.

We left to tour and marvel at the Burgos Cathedral. Soaring gothic cathedrals are designed, in part, to humble worshippers in the presence of a very large God. It is also meant to draw one’s attention heavenward. This space would certainly have done that. We listened to the audio tour describing details of its construction from the 1200’s onward. You quickly run short of superlatives. It is a visual feast. At the same time, one gets a sense that the design and construction were meant to glorify the patrons, politicians, and church leaders as much as – if not more so – than God.

Tuesday, April 25 (Day 35). One hundred years ago, folks in Santander pushed hard for a rail line from the Atlantic to the Mediterranean. The history is a little murky, but I gather that the rail line did not do all that well. It does, however, do very well as a bike route through a beautiful and varied countryside. The old Santander-Mediterraneo rail line unexpectedly gave us one of our most pleasant days of biking yet. Thirty-five downhill, wind-assisted miles to a quiet spot in the woods.

Train Station on the old rail line

Wednesday, April 26 (Day 36). Last summer we Binni in Turkey. Binni is a young German cyclist who, a year later, is still traveling the world. He recently posted a picture from his tent with the following caption, “What a gift to have a different living room view every day. What a gift to have this wonderful world as a living room!” Well said Binni! We couldn’t agree more. And as Sharon just pointed out, it is available to anyone.

After breakfast in our outdoor kitchen, we packed our home and moved it another forty miles down the road, with only one small hiccup. Just before parting ways with our rail line, we had to carry our bikes and gear across an unfinished bridge. A small price to pay for such a wonderful route.

Madrid and the interior of Spain rest on a high plateau. We ended our day on the edge of that plateau where the land tumbles down to the sea. In one of our more interesting campsites, we pitched up on an abandoned stretch of highway no longer in use after a tunnel was constructed. It was made even better by a visit from Chris, our future Warmshower host in Bilbao. Turned out he was passing nearby, so he stopped to chat…and share a cold beer no less.

Thursday, April 27 (Day 37). By themselves, the numbers don’t mean much. Two thousand five hundred feet of descent and five hundred feet of climbing over twenty-five miles. I think you’ll get a better sense of our day from the following video, and a few pics. What you won’t see in the video is me grinning from ear to ear.

Aside from the fetching countryside, all day long we passed groups of cyclists making the climb up to the top of the pass. That’s a fifty mile roundtrip from Bilbao. The interesting thing was that all were men – not a single woman passed by. Almost all were our age or older. And almost all were incredibly fit. Very impressive.

Based on a suggestion from Chris, on our way into town we stopped by a polideportiva – basically a local municipal gym. To the young lady at the desk I explained that we were bicycle touring, and needed – she interrupted “a ducha?” Hmmm. How did she know I was going to say shower? Pyschic? Or was it really that obvious? She then allowed us the use of the facilities at no cost. Later we found an attractive park to relax for a bit. As Chris said later, “So you landed on your feet in Bilbao.“

As a Warmshower host, Chris graciously offered us the use of his downtown office as our home for a few nights. He uses what is basically a conference room to teach English as a Second Language to both kids and adults. It is the perfect location to explore Bilbao.

And explore we did. On our own we wandered along the Bilbao river that for centuries received ships from all over the known world. We strolled past the world famous Guggenheim art museum. Later with Chris we sampled the Bilbao night life, which included sampling squid in ink sauce (tasty!!) as well as a local cod dish. Good times.

Friday, April 28 (Day 38). This was one of our active “rest” days. We both logged many miles wandering the city separately. I spent a few hours in the maritime museum. The history of this city is a maritime history. It exists because its location allowed the transfer of goods between inland Spain and the world via ocean going vessels. The museum also touched on the remarkable transition from an industrial downtown to a thriving downtown filled with art and life.

A highlight of the day was meeting with one of Chris’s adult class of English learners. We shared a bit of our story and gave them an opportunity to practice their English asking questions. Thanks again Chris for the opportunities and insights into life in Spain and the Basque region.

Saturday, April 29 (Day 39). As a fan of the Tour de France dating back to the days of Greg Lemond, this was a special day for me. It would have been enough simply enjoy the spectacular and rugged Basque coastline. But this year the Tour starts in Bilbao. This gave us the unique opportunity to spend almost the entire day riding a portion of the Stage 1 route.

With 4,000 feet of climbing, rain, stops to take in all the activity and views from Bilbao to Mundaka, it was a long, grueling day – and we enjoyed every minute! I guess that kind of describes this past week, and maybe defines bike touring. So often the best bits come as the result of some hard work. Having said that, sometimes the good bits just drop into our lap. One thing is certain, none of it happens unless you’re putting yourself out there. So, kids, get out there and enjoy! Until next week…STC!

Life Behind Bars – #6

On April 23, 2023April 23, 2023 By KBGearDaveIn Biking Stuff, On the Road3 Comments

April 16 – 22, 2023

Sunday, April 16 (Day 26). Our bus ride from Gibralter to Madrid began late Satuday night with our bus driver’s angry “NO!” Wagging finger! Rapid fire Spanish! Another finger wag at our bikes. I get the message! I replied in Spanish, “We have two tickets for our bicycles!” So – as we’ve learned to do – we ignored him and loaded our bikes. His displeasure transcended any language barrier. Things did not improve until we blessedly exited the bus (aka the Sardine Sauna) nine hours later, early Sunday morning in Madrid.

Life improved dramatically as the new day dawned. We procured breakfast at a local mercado and entered the Parque de el Retiro. We spent hours enjoying the sights of this enchanting park. The Crystal Palace. The Fallen Angel statue. The monument to Alfonso XII. A steady stream of runners and walkers. Dragon boat races on the central pond. Various and sundry buskers. Masses out for a Sunday stroll. We took an immediate liking to Madrid. Later, we made our way to a campground and our first sleep in 36 hours (none to be found on the bus).

Monday, April 17 (Day 27). Ten miles north of Madrid we entered a random small town and took our first fuel break in the plaza de iglesia (church square). Ten miles later, another plaza de iglesia, another leisurely fuel break – this time bar food and cervesas pequenas. We were feeling good about this more relaxed pace of life. Then life bit our backsides. First the headwinds arrived, then hills reared up in our path. The sun was long gone by the time we’d prepared dinner, set camp, and finally got supine. We decided that perhaps a relaxed pace was not such a great idea after all.

Tuesday, April 18 (Day 28). Coming north, we jumped back in time. We went from early summer in the south to early spring.

While it may be a bit frosty some mornings, we still prefer the cooler temps. So much more pleasant riding. Speaking of…our route for the next few days takes us well and truly into the mountains. Today, 3,500′ of climbing… with fully loaded bikes. That may stretch the definition of “fun” – but apart from some hike-a-bike, it was incredible riding.

There were a few issues today. My rear tire exploded with a sonic boom! No patching that bad boy. Fortunately I was going uphill at 3 mph at the time.

There is a *remote* possibility the tire was over-inflated. Who knew?

Second problem: we ignored Monty Python’s “The Importance of Not Being Seen!” As a result, a police officer paid a visit to our tent just as the sun was setting. He could not have been any nicer or more friendly, but he said, “You can not camp here – it is illegal.” We apologized profusely and asked if he had any suggestions? “Since it is illegal, I can not suggest this, but…if you were to place your tent so it can not be seen from the road…?” Shoulder shrug. Ah! Si! Comprendo. Muchas gracias!!

Wednesday, April 19 (Day 29). The quantity and quality of climbing yesterday had us rethinking more days with even more climbing. Looking for alternatives, we were reminded that when cycling in Spain, you can’t always get there from here. The only other road north was a closed access freeway. So, further into the mountains we went. Good decision. It was hard, of course. It was also beautiful and remote. Hours passed with nary a car or village in sight. It was no challenge finding an “out of sight” site. Another fantastic day.

It’s all fun and games until insanely steep hills appear.

Five star 🌟 campsite – tremendous views. No policia!

Thursday, April 20 (Day 30). Another top ten camp site. It was eerily quiet overnight. I saw an endless shooting star cover most of the sky. What sounded like wolves howling gave us both the chills. Experiences like this are priceless.

Since we had no opportunity to buy food or fuel through this region, we were down to a single piece of bread with jelly for breakfast. Not much to fuel three hours of climbing. Fortunately, the last eight miles into Riaza was all downhill. What a ride…and the road took us directly to a Lupa grocery store. After four nights of camping we splurged on a room at the vintage Plaza Hotel. Ideally located on the main plaza. Inexpensive. Perfect for our needs.

Friday, April 21 (Day 31). Today was the day we imagined when we imagined cycling in Spain. The road between Riaza and Penaranda de Duero was filled with cool countryside, charming, historic towns, churches, and castles. Perfect temps. A tailwind. It doesn’t get much better.

Saturday, April 22 (Day 32). On the list of “things we should know by now!” 1. After a night of rain, avoid unpaved route suggestions from Komoot. While the scenery was great, cleaning pounds of sticky mud off the bikes – not great! 2. Letting someone else cook us dinner in another impossibly charming little town – great idea! Forgetting that every afternoon everything closes – not great!

On the list of “things that seem a bit eerie!” Spanish ghost towns. Not real “ghost” towns. But it is a little unsettling to ride through a village without a single sign of life. No people. No cars. No barking dogs. Nothing. We’ve seen several now. Not sure what to make of it.

Highlights today. 1. Had several conversations with random folks today, both in Spanish and English. We’ve been missing that. 2. A passing motorist stopped and made sure we didn’t miss a beautiful slot canyon hike. A group of cyclists on an organized weekend tour let us park our bikes with theirs to be guarded so we could take the hike with them. 3. Seeing more of the giant vultures common in this area. 4. Several more very old, very lovely villages. 5. Another quiet, secluded camp.

So that’s the news from northern Spain. Consensus: No offense to the south, but we are loving northern Spain. As painful as it was, we’re glad we changed direction. And now, after eight days of very challenging riding, we have some down time planned in Burgos. But that’s news for next week. Until then…buen dia!! STC!

Life Behind Bars #5

On April 16, 2023April 16, 2023 By KBGearDaveIn Biking Stuff, On the Road3 Comments

April 9 – 15, 2023

April 9. Easter Sunday

The square outside the cathedral complex was being preppeding for a major event. We were intrigued, but we’d had our share of crowds, so hard pass. Instead, we sat in on a portion of a worship service in a slightly smaller, yet impossibly ornate church. The lack of any visible joy or enthusiasm from the priest was…underwhelming, and sad. After a brief stay, we let ourselves out.

For the rext of the day we touristed. We wandered the streets. We sampled empanadas. We learned history. We made our way to the beach for a bit of a sit. Families, kids, couples were all enjoying a lazy Sunday afternoon. We sadly observed a number of impoverished women who apparently could only afford half a swimming suit. Although, as Forrest Gump said, “That’s one less thing to worry about. So that’s good!”

Cadiz is big, busy, and touristic – all things that normally put us off. Somehow though it was different in our area’s warren of streets. Mostly residential had a few public accommodations mixed in. People were out casually visiting bars, mercados, coffee shops, playgrounds, plazas, and restaurants. The background “noise” was laughter, talking, singing, and children playing. We found ourselves drawn to the livliness and life surrounding us. For us, Cadiz was an enjoyable experience.

April 10 (Day 20). Getting out of Cadiz was much easier than getting in. That rarest of creatures – a tailwind – pushed us south. We rode along the coast. We rode through seaside tourist towns. We rode for miles on deserted back roadds and lengthy bike paths. We rode over a large hill/small mountain. We heartily approve of the change from farmland. At day’s end we found a lovely “room” tucked in the woods, overlooking yet another beautiful Atlantic la playa. Quiet, peaceful, and free! It was a very good day.

April 11 (Day 21). Las Montanas!! At last! I’ll not deny that we enjoyed the ease of flat biking along the coast or the simple pleasures of gently rolling hills. But if I’m honest, it can be…slightly monotonous. But the mountains! Oh yes! Sure, climbing can be hard – brutal even. But the views, ahead, behind, always changing. The glory of gravity welcoming you back into her warm embrace after you crest a ridge or cross a pass is divine. Today, after a few miles along the coast, we turned away from the coast and toward the mountains. Windmills and small towns clung to hillsides and filled the valleys. When the road finally tilted – it was glorious. Tonight, a wild camp. Silent except for the day’s dying wind. An expansive view of the mountainous Parque Natural Los Alcornocales (cork oaks). Well played Spain! Well played!

April 12 (Day 22). The Rock of Gibralter! Possibly the most well-known landmark in the world. To paraphrase Ted Lasso, “You could fill two internets with what I don’t know about Gibralter.” For example, you may not know that the Rock of Gibralter, and it’s counterpart in Morocco, Jebel Musa, are known as the Pillars of Hercules. He supposedly straddled the Straits of Gibralter after he put down his foot and created the nine mile wide passage between Europe and Africa. You also may not know that Britain gained possession of this territory as a spoil of war in 1713. That was the same treaty that gave England possession of Nova Scotia, and drove out the French Acadians (Henry Wordsworth Longfellow’s Evangeline??). But I digress. I am an unapologetic history geek. It is our plan to fix the knowledge gap few days.

April 13 (Day 23). “My mama always said you can tell a lot about a person by their shoes, where they going, where they been.” (Forrest Gump) Today you could tell we was going walking cuz we had on our walking shoes. And we walked! We walked up and down that rock. We walked in tunnels and caves. We walked up to where we could see Africa, big as life. We walked past Barbary Macaques (monkeys) that call Gibralter home. One cheeky monkey ambushed Sharon and almost made off with Peter Rabbit, while another played with Surfie (companions sent by our grandchildren). We were stoked to explore the nooks and crannies and history of the place. We were also stoked to find an awesome doner shop to fuel our wandering. Finally, we were stoked to put up our feet at day’s end.

Whetting our whistle at the Pig and Whistle

April 14 (Day 24). I had to twist Sharon’s arm (really) to get her to agree to a true rest day. So far, all our “zero” days have been like yesterday – zero miles biking, but eleven miles of hiking and 2,000 vertical feet of climbing. So today – rest. That was the theory. We both went through our packs, purged and decided to send off a combined seven pounds of gear. That meant another trip into Gibralter. For Sharon, who at times has difficulty sitting still, that gave her an excuse to ride completely around the Gibralter peninsula. No thank you! I did manage to wrestle the girl into a lounge chair for at least part of the day.

It’s Miller Time – Not!!! Cruzcampo Radler time

April 15 (Day 25). For those accustomed to long weekends or an annual two week vacation – 90 days must seem like all the time in the world. I don’t mean to sound unappreciative, but when you are traveling this great big world by bicycle, 90 days barely scratches the surface. I mention this by way of explanation. After endlessly exploring our options, we chose to board a bus from Gibralter to Madrid. I won’t bore you with all the reasons. But, it will give us more time and flexibility down the road.

Since the bus didn’t leave until 9:30pm, we had a long lie in, and another lovely, lazy day.

The writer Dante is famous for his fantastical descriptions of the different levels of Hell. I am convinced only a lack of imagination kept him from describing one of the worst levels of Hell as an overnight bus ride to Madrid. More details to follow next week. For now it’s Enough to say that we are thrilled to have completed the first leg of our journey. We are excited to begin a new chapter in the north. Be well and STC!

Life Behind Bars #4

On April 9, 2023April 9, 2023 By KBGearDaveIn Biking Stuff, On the Road8 Comments

April 2 – 8, 2023

April 2 (Day 12). Tavira treated us well. After seven days of riding from Lisbon to Tavira, we biked every day and covered 250 miles. It was the height of luxury to leave the Konas in the store room for a day. But alas, all good things…right? After another fine breakfast feast complements of the Al Muralha hotel we pointed our steeds east. Our goal – Seville. Spain. We estimate three moderate days should get us there by Tuesday night.

Less than two hours from Tavira, we entered the impressively named town of Vila Real de Santo Antonio. Not sure what Tony did, or how he got a town named after him. I do know that Vila Real de Santo Antonio is the last town in Portugal for eastbound travelers. Across the Guadiana River, Spain awaits. A short ferry ride later, we set foot in a new country. Adeus Portugal. Bienvenidos Espana.

Within minutes of our arrival in Ayamonte, we were immersed in a massive Semana Santa (Holy Week) celebration. Elegantly dressed throngs turned out to watch the festivities. Looking wildly out of place in our bike kit, we joined the crowds of onlookers. It was to be an oft-repeated scene this week.

We learned very quickly, that unlike Portugal where almost everyone had a few words of English to offer, in Spain – nada. Given that my Spanish skills are on par with Peggy Hill (sorry for the obscure King of the Hill cartoon reference. Everyone who knows Peggy Hill is likely smiling or laughing right now). As far as I can tell, I haven’t made any offers to marry the farmer’s oldest daughter – yet! I can generally work out what to say, but am totally at a loss deciphering the tsunami of words that come in response.

Most evenings we study our map apps to chart a tentative route for the next day. For this particular day, Sharon had uncovered a gem. It was muy bien! A mile off the main road, down a beautifully maintained gravel road (closed to vehicle traffic I might add), we found ourselves a quiet stretch of beach. We camped behind the dunes, just a short stroll to a prime strip of deserted Atlantic la playa. This is the good stuff.

April 3 (Day 13). We lost an hour coming into Spain. In practical terms, there is just the suggestion of light on the horizon at 7:20am. By 8am it is light enough to break camp and start moving. Well, we could have started at 8am…if we both hadn’t fallen back asleep until the sun had well and truly risen . We rationalized our sloth with the knowledge that night doesn’t make her entrance until after 9pm. No worries about having time to make our miles. Speaking of miles, we rolled across quite a few today. Highlights? We met Cameron from Glasgow. He’s on his first tour from Lisbon to Corfu, Greece for a wedding. (Not his apparently). Along the way he has plans to tour through Morroco and some of the Balkan countries. Way to go mate! I wouldn’t be surprised if our paths crossed again.

Another highlight? Niebla. On the map it’s just a wee town, so no expectations other than to possible camp along a nearby river. Instead we found ancient walls surrounding much of this fortified city. First settled in the 8th century BC by Phoenicians interested in nearby silver mines, since then, Romans, Visigoths, Moors, and various Spanish forces have all called it home. At its height, the perimeter of the wall was just under a mile around and had fifty watch towers! We felt very safe enjoying a meal at a local doner establishment before cranking out the last miles of the day.

On a different note, do you like cured ham? Please and thank you! A local supermercado had this impressive display of tasty, cured pork legs. Watching the butcher shave pieces for a customer was to see a passionate artist at work. Every slice was a masterpiece!

April 4 (Day 14). The day started well. On our way out of town, we stopped to marvel at several Semana Santa floats inside a local church.

Unfortunately, Sharon set down her handlebar bag on a pew. Somehow, we didn’t notice until six miles down the road. Argh! Sharon dropped gear and raced back – to find the church locked. Eventually, with the help of the policia and a finger wagging nun, all was right with the world. We reunited and made our way into Sevilla.

We thought the Semana Santa celebration in Ayamonte was muy grande. In Sevilla, it was next level! We didn’t need to know where the parade took place. We just followed the masses of finely dressed folks. Before long, we came across this…agoraphobe’s nightmare!

You just don’t see this every day

April 5 (Day 15). Sevilla was as beautiful as advertised. As we often do in large cities, we took a “free” walking tour. Alejandra showed us around, providing both historical background as well as details about modern life. Alejandra’s passion for life and her city were infectious. After the tour, we just wandered, stopping along the way for tradtional cervesa y tapas. In our case beer, fried cuttlefish, and pork sirloin in whiskey sauce…mmmmm!

Sevilla was lovely. We thoroughly enjoyed exploring the winding city streets, plazas and promenades. Finally though, shoulder to shoulder, wall to wall people everywhere started to wear. We cherish our personal space. The day ended with a retreat to our apartment for a quiet dinner.

April 6 (Day 16). This morning we opted for a lie in and decided a relaxed approach to the day was in order. We revisited a few tour stops, then made a leisurely exit from Sevilla. In keeping with our unhurried pace, we cycled a few hours, then took a break a short distance from where we hoped to spend the night. We nursed our pequeno Cruzcampos and tried an amazing tapas of shrimp and cheese rolled in a lightly fried pastry and covered in a honey sauce…oh my! Later, a little sleuthing netted a secluded place to call home. Perfecto!

April 7 (Day 17). It is a simple life we lead! Today, and really this whole week, it was bike through long stretches of agriculture. Visit attractive towns and villages. Witness another somber Semana Santa procession – and the slightly odd party atmosphere sounding the solemnity. Find a choice spot to sleep. Eat. Drink. Rinse and repeat.

April 8 (Day 18). Today, we set our sights on Cadiz. Turns out you almost can’t get there from here. We congratulated our cleverness in finding a ferry to take us across Cadiz Bay. This would save ten miles of biking on major highways. Yay us! Except the ferry wasn’t running. Plan B – ride major highways and cross massive bridge. Oops! Bikes are prohibo on massive bridge. Plan C – ride a few miles back to a bus stop. I asked the crowd if this bus was going to Cadiz and would they have room for our bicicletas? Given the puzzled looks, laughter and animated discussions, I’m not actually sure what I asked! When the bus arrived and the driver said “no, it was not possible,” people rallied to our aid. At the last moment, we were waved aboard the handicap entrance at the rear of the bus. Once again, the kindness of strangers (or pity on fools) saved the day.

Cadiz was worth the effort. We were rewarded with another procession, a lovely sunset, and a romantic dinner in an ancient city. We are truly blessed!

STC!

Life Behind Bars – #3

On April 2, 2023April 2, 2023 By KBGearDaveIn Biking Stuff, On the Road4 Comments

March 26 – April 1 – Portugal

Sunday (3/26). Sleep! Twelve glorious, uninterrupted hours of sleep! Those who know me know that twelve hours is unheard of! But, we both have been jet lagged since arrival. We both have been nursing colds, so the lengthy sack time was unbelievably welcome! We did manage to get on the road…eventually. On our way south, we came across three friends from Toronto on their very first bike tour. It looked it. Mountains of gear were precariously strapped on their bikes. They were studying in Germany and simply had used whatever gear was at hand. Good for them! Better to go than to wait until they had all the “right” gear.

The riding south of Lisbon was pleasant enough, but it was also .. unremarkable. At times we were only a few hundred yards from the ocean, yet it remained out of sight. While we appreciate the fact that they haven’t built roads or condos right on the shore – it would have been nice to get a peek at the coast once in a while.

We had a brief moment of panic when our hoped for stopping place turned out to be a “members only” campground. Oops! They graciously gave us special permission to stay the night. Thank you! The steamy hot shower (so often taken for granted) was delightful. Later that evening as we waited to drift off to sleep, we were serenaded by thundrous booming from the crashing waves still a half mile away. We’ve already decided to head there for breakfast spot tomorrow.

Monday (3/27).

The day started well with breakfast on a beautiful stretch of beach. The riding and the views just kept improving as the day wore on. South of Sines, the road followed a jaw-dropping coastline. It culminated at an area of cliffs and sea stacks near Porto Covo. We were fortunate to find an amazing spot to spend the night near all that beauty. Well played Portugal. Well played.

Tuesday (3/28). Camping next to the ocean is incredible. There is nothing like sleeping with the sound of the sea as background music. Downside? Massive condensation. The fly could not have been more soaked if we had submerged it in a sink! We would have to deal with that later.

A fifteen mile ride brought us to Vila Nova de Milfontes. It was not hard riding…mostly flat through an agricultural area. Our plan had been to have some lighter days of cycling early on. Fifteen miles was a really light day. From the last few hectic days in Flag, the flight, taking Lisbon by storm, the last fewdays of biking, we haven’t had a down day in some time. We both relished the idea of stopping early so we could wash clothes, sort gear and – just do nothing for a few hours. Milfontes turned out to be an excellent place to spend some down time. Walking was pleasant. The town was set in a beautiful location. And, whilst strolling about, we came across a buffet restaurant. Yes, it was totally a tourist trap. And yes, it was probably over-priced. But for two very hungry cycling tourists – it was perfect. And, the food was very good.

Obviously, most days we can’t indulge like that. And many days we’ll need to do more miles. On this particular day, however, we were quite content knowing that this was not one of those days!

Wednesday (3/29). A few miles south of Milfontes we took a detour out to the coast. It is truly awe inspiring.

As we retraced our route and prepared to turn south, we crossed paths with William. He had flown from his home near Paris and was on a one month bike tour of Portugal and Spain. We chatted over coffee and juice. Later we met for lunch and spent the rest of the day enjoying the company. It was fun to learn about his life in France. As always, it was fascinating to see the world and world events from a different perspective. The day passed quickly as we rode through interesting scenery and shared stories from life on the road. Eventually though, we parted ways. We chose to camp near Odeceixe, and William continued on to keep to his schedule. Thanks William for a great day.

Thursday 3/30. When riding south in this country, geography requires you to make a left turn at some point. We chose not to ride out and back to the southernmost point of Portugal, and instead turned inland just south of Aljezur. Almost immediately we began what became a few hours of climbing. We eventually crested the ridge and for a while rode in the company of giant wind turbines. I’ve often seen them from a distance, and usually from a car. It’s something else to ride beneath them as the massive blades “whooosh” overhead.

The downhill was glorious and brought us close to the southern coast. This area is known as the “Algarve” region of Portugal. While touted for its beautiful beaches, one article referred to it as “the Florida of Europe.” The final miles to our campground confirmed that observation. Condos, golf courses, ads everywhere hawking tourist traps…not the best look. We were quite happy to get off the road and find peace and quiet – and a hot shower – at our campground.

Looking ahead, we were not enchanted by what we had seen, and what we had heard and read about what lay ahead. From the comfort of our bed we made the bold decision to fast forward through this section of the Algarve to the town of Tavira…60+ miles. We may regret that decision. We’ll see what tomorrow brings.

Friday (3/31). We were both ready for the challenge of a long day…and more than a little nervous. With all stops included, we typically average 6-8 miles an hour over the course of a day. Depending on the variables of wind, hills, and traffic, that could mean upwards of ten hours in the saddle. Ugh. That could be a very long day. We chose N125 as the shortest (and definitely least scenic) route to Tavira. The hills were rolling with long, flat stretches. The traffic was heavy at times, but we were given a broad shoulder most of the day. But the wind! Dare I say it? We enjoyed that rare and most coveted of cycling gifts…a brisk tailwind. All things considered, we arrived in Tavira in good shape and spirits.

During our time together in Lisbon, Jim and Karen raved about Tavira. Good suggestion. It has a charm unlike many of the other communities we’d passed through. We took in just a small part of town in our search for food. After chores tomorrow we’ll check it out in more detail.

Saturday (4/1). Tavira was first settled in the 8th century B.C. The Phoenicians apparently had a fortified settlement on the banks of the Gilao River. As with many ancient cities, its fortunes rose and fell depending on the needs of whatever government controlled the area. Roman’s, Moors and pirates all took their turns using Tavira is some fashion. Today it seems to be a regular city with a healthy influx of tourists taking advantage of the miles of pristine beaches nearby.

We found it a comfortable place to wander, watch people, and just relax. As with any time we make use of a hotel, we also did a full load of laundry in the bath tub. Made sure all devices were fully charged. Used a good internet connection to work on the blog and plan our future travels. Kudos to the Al Muhara Hotel. The staff has been friendly and incredibly helpful. The breakfast was lovely. The facilities are comfortable. The location – perfect. If time and money were not considerations, I think we would happily make Tavira home for several more days.

Final thoughts. We’ve now been in Portugal for eleven days. We covered almost 250 miles since leaving Lisbon a week ago. In the next day or two we will cross into Spain. Honestly, we haven’t been overly fond of the country. Some of the country has been stunning – many areas have been unremarkable. Last year in Turkey and the Balkan countries we made connections with the people almost every day. Here, apart from financial transactions, we feel as though we ate invisible. Our “Ola” and “Bom Dia” get luke-warm responses. No doubt there are many possible reasons and we can’t begin to understand why. Bottom line, we’re ready to see what Spain has to offer. It will certainly be interesting. Until next week – Seize the Carp!

BTW. Just a reminder. If you want daily updates, Sharon is posting on the Polarsteps app. Just download it and request to be friends with Sharon Neubauer Moore.

Life Behind Bars – #2

On March 29, 2023March 29, 2023 By KBGearDaveIn Biking Stuff, On the Road4 Comments

March 19 – 25

Sunday – Wednesday (3/19-22). It seemed like such a simple plan. 1. Church and pack the apartment on Sunday. Take care of any last minute details. 2. Visit Ethan in Phoenix on Monday. 3. Fly from Flagstaff to Lisbon on Tursday/Wednesday. Simple. Except…

“Last minute details” from #1 sort of ballooned and consumed all available free time Sunday. #2 went well and we had a wonderful time with Ethan. #3…ah, there’s the rub! Massive quantities of snow descended upon our fair city yet again. Our noon flight was canceled by 8am and we were automatically rescheduled on a 6pm flight. The 6pm flight was canceled several hours later. Options. Keep playing the cancel/reschedule game ad nauseum, or take a shuttle to Phoenix and catch the 2nd leg of our already rescheduled flight. Hmmm. Seize the carp we said, and down the hill we went. From there, things went smoothly. We arrived in Lisbon, tired, jet lagged and much later than planned – but we had arrived.

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Seizing the Carp!

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