The day began on an upbeat note. As an experiment, we tried (for the third time) replacing the SD card in my camera. I’ve become convinced that the problems were with the camera, not the memory. In addition to spoiled images, the other symptom is that storage is very slow - as much as 10 seconds to store the image and close the shutter, which becomes annoying after about the thousandth time. This third card also had problems immediately - it contained unviewable, undeletable images - and Rachael suggested reformatting it. This worked! The camera seems completely normal again. A huge relief.
Also, we began the day where we left off late last night, reviewing the itinerary in Albania for ideas for simplifying it a bit. We’re five weeks into what’s been a continuously challenging tour, and we’re both starting to feel it. We found a change that simplifies our route significantly, cutting out a major pass, and are both quite happy with it.
At our hotel, waiting for the morning’s coffee to arrive
A blurry shot, but one I was happy to get. This guy (possibly a large tortoiseshell butterfly) was gyrating wilaround the breakfast room, and finally stopped briefly (Credit: Bill Shaneyfelt)
It’s a short ride today, only 27 miles; but by one measure it’s the hardest day of the tour - 3,400’ of climbing, for a 130 vfpm average. First though, we start off easy with a five mile descent to the river, reversing last night’s climb.
We’re descending through the hairpins we climbed through last night. The village straight ahead is Aristi. Too bad there’s a thousand foot gap in between.
Before beginning the climb back to Aristi, we take a short walk along a marble path through the woods to visit a tiny riverside monastery. The monastery was, nice, but the path and the small arched bridge over the creek were the best part of it.
Before climbing back up to Aristi we stopped for a short walk to Spileotissa monastery, next to the river at the end of a beautiful quarter mile stone path through the forest.
The small monastery has a pair of paintings over it’s locked entrance. These are in the same style as those that cover the interiors of the churches we saw at Meteora, but could not photograph.
One thing to note here is the red outline, which is characteristic. In the churches, the entire interior walls are painted without breaks, with individual scenes separated by the red perimeters.
Back in Aristi, we stop in at the same spot we were yesterday, and have lunch (we’re off to a slow start today, obviously). From here we plan to ride the dead end road out to Vikos, a village perched on the edge of the gorge. It is the location for one of the best lookouts into the gorge.
Surprisingly, we pick up a mascot for the next hour. He showed up when we parked our bikes, and followed us (mainly Rachael) everywhere - to lunch, where he lay peacefully at our feet for a half hour; back to the bikes; and then out to the lookout, two and a half miles away. Great dog! I wasn’t worried about him getting lost - it’s a dead end road that he’s probably been out many times. He probably does this every time there’s a Bike Friday passing through the village.
In Aristi we stopped for a cheese pie lunch, and picked up a friend. He stayed with us during lunch and all the way to the Gorge lookout in Vikos.
A bit intimidating, to us and the dog. Look at the video below, of the dog facing down this guy and having second thoughts, finally passing them with me in the lead. Along with a bazillion tiny butterflies.
The lookout into the gorge and at the surrounding vertical cliffs is dumbfounding. The photos don’t do justice to what an awe inspiring spot this is. We stare our fill, and then before departing Rachael rewards our friend with most of the cheese we’ve been hauling around. Then, we coast back to Aristi, quickly leaving him behind.
As we drop, we start seeing flashes of lightning to the north, and begin getting worried. This is the fourth straight days of afternoon thunderstorms. We only have twelve miles to go before Monodendri, but there’s nothing between here and there. They begin with the short, steep 1,200’ climb over a ridge. As we climb, we see that the storm is moving our way, quickly. We start feeling the first drops just before the summit, but once over the top we start pulling away from it. It feels like we’ve just escaped drowning by inches.
It’s a fast ride down to a beautiful green basin; then quickly across it; and then one last climb, to Monodendri. Up until now we’ve been fleeing the storm behind us, but now we see that we’re biking into a different one straight ahead. We’re penned in, and fully expect to arrive wet. We take note of each potential shelter as we pass by, in case we need to seek cover in a hurry.
At the Gorge lookout, taking a breather. We finally dropped our new friend when we coasted back to Aristi. I’ve no doubt he knows his way home.
On the hardest climb of the day - only 1,200’, but in under three miles. With thunder and lightning, and a black sky coming our way. Another slow motion race.
But, against all odds, we arrive dry again. This seems to be a pattern lately - arrive under the threat of rain but dry, with thunder and lightning making us anxious about sitting in the open on a lightning rod. And another part of the pattern, that we’re getting just a tad tired of - arrival to an unbikable final approach to our room, blocked by stairs, impossibly steep slopes, centuries old rough stone roads. Beautiful, interesting, good photo ops, but still - enough is enough.
Like Papigo, Monodendri is one of the best known and most visited of the Zagori Villages. It has a dramatic situation, just a few hundred yards from the lip of the Vikos Gorge - this is the starting point for one of the primary hikes through the gorge, for those with knees that would support such a trek.
And, it has a dramatic look, very similar to Papigo: grey stone everything: houses, walls, paths, hotels; and a large central plaza dominated by an immense centuries old plane tree. Very beautiful place to wander around and absorb.
Andrea BrownAnother salvia, this one Salvia Sclarea or clary sage. These are the papery bracts that surround the blossoms. Reply to this comment 6 years ago
Scott AndersonTo Andrea BrownThanks, teach! Amazing that those aren’t the blossoms; they’re the best part. Plus he aphids, of course - they’re pretty great too. Reply to this comment 6 years ago
