April 30, 2012
Picos de Europa
up Puerto de Pandetrave, then back to Potes
Last night, the feeling of having a screwdriver poked my kneecap has thankfully ebbed after a night's rest. Maybe it's age catching up, or just that my right knee took most of the strain on that long climb in the cold weather yesterday. Walking down the hotel stairs for coffee is okay and once my bike is loaded up I'm on my way.
The snow that fell during the night is still dusting the rooftops when my wheels turn through the chilly morning air and out of the village with the N-621 immediately wiggling into a shaded gorge, the high sides of which have faces that look like they'd been pebble-dashed.
It's just that many of the pebbles are the size of my bar-bag, trapped in the slate-like rock due to some weird glacial, geological phenomenon. Lichen covers lots of the rock.
The first five kilometers are down and once out of the gorge, small fields spread out on my left and end at a fast-flowing river that the road traces. Some daffodils are flowering on the grass and in the distance are snow-capped peaks.
I make a right at a junction where the village of Portilla de la Reina stands. It's basically a one street place that has a couple of places to sleep and my route veering north is signposted Posada d Valdeon and Picos de Europa.
My tourist map shows that once over the pass, there's an even smaller road - a cul-de-sac - which drops to Cain, but I didn't know where I'll end up.
It's possible to do a loop on this small road but it all depends on the weather, which is not looking very obliging, with thick clouds moving over the mountains, coming in my direction.
The scenery reminds me of Scotland with low mountains lining a U-valley. Meadows of short grass give way to gorse. The trees are mostly bare and stone walls form a safety barrier, which has seen better days. In winter, this will all be covered in snow.
It's gentle for a couple of kilometers, but then it starts to incline just a tad steeper and my body soon warms up, so I take off my blue fleece and put on my Lycra arm-warmers.
It's something like 12 km to the top and the road twists a lot, but the wind is mostly behind me. The sun appears briefly, making me want to make the most of the photo opportunity with the colours looking better but by the time my camera is ready it's usually gone in again.
Once at the snowline the road travels pretty much straight towards the pass, squiggling slowly up the contours and I still feel warm when the top appeared.
A mirador gives a wonderful view of the Picos de Europa - jagged peaks lining the horizon - and a couple of cars are parked, their occupants tentatively getting out, wrapped up ready for an Antarctic expedition. They look at me in my sandals and top and must wonder what I'm doing, as sall flakes of snow are blowing around and clouds start to come low.
It's now decision time.
| Heart | 2 | Comment | 0 | Link |
Plan A: if I kept going and drop down, there's another high pass to deal with to loop back to the 621 - plus the extra kilometers to double back to Potes - and then descend north to Cangas, where I was last week. But there are few buses from there if I need one.
Plan B: if I head down the dead-end to Cain, like I originally planned, then if it snows or rains it'll be a real test to get back out again and makeg it to Santander for the ferry on May 2nd.
I opt to turn back and head for Potes.
The wind is in my face and my yellow jacket, although thin, does a reasonable job of keeping me warm. The dozen downhill kilometers soon flash by and once back in Portilla de la Reina and on the N-621, it's a case of climbing again.
My computer reads 38 km by the time I've made it to the hotel I left at 10:30 and as my stomach is empty, I call in and have the 10-euro lunch special.
Puerto de San Glorio is 1,609m and it's hard going back up to the pass. The chilly air and stuffed belly make the final five kilometers seem much longer and steeper than I remember from whizzing down them and it's even cooler at the top, where a pair of hikers about to climb back into their parked car quiz me as I take a snap, asking why I've come in winter. I say it's now spring, but they just point to the snow: fair enough.
The 30 km to Potes are very cold ones. Really I should have donned my fleece to help keep warm in the wind, speeding along at 50 km/hr.
The staff at the hotel welcome me back and the radiator in my bedroom gets turned up to full. It feels like it's been a long day, more than just over 70 km, but then again a lot of it was up. My right knee is giving me a reminder of that fact.
Today's ride: 72 km (45 miles)
Total: 2,395 km (1,487 miles)
| Rate this entry's writing | Heart | 2 |
| Comment on this entry | Comment | 0 |