August 12, 2015
Going Mental: D934-km 22 to near Embalse Yesa (Rio Aragon)
There's the soothing sound of a small stream cascading down the wooded slope on the opposite riverbank, then the wind rises and there's the patter of rain on the tent. I've been lucky to have had such good weather to cross those cols. Rain would have made descending tricky and if it's raining in the morning, tomorrow will be a disaster.
The morning though is crystalline: pine trees and blue sky.
There's that helicopter dropping into the valley in a whining and the rotor making a load clap as it come to a halt hovering above my picnic area campsite. Police have located the fugitive cycle-tourer who camps where he feels like and ground units will soon be here to make an arrest. There's no place to run. No, actually, there is a long cable suspended down from the helicopter with a jib on the end. It lowers into the treetops a few hundred metres further up the road and there's an intense dull hum for half a minute before soaring back up in a roaring whirl of rotor, high in the sky with a bulk bag of material in the jib and goes behind the hillside. It makes four return flights with empty jip and leaves with a bag suspended underneath, going to some inaccessible mountain location.
Again it is gone half seven when I stir. Breakfast is chocolate chip cookies and tea, which is fast becoming my favourite start to the day. Write my diary and I'm on the road for half nine.
The 22 km board come just after leaving the picnic area having the altitude at 700m and 4%, the gradient in the next kilometre. Good to warm up. Consecutive kilometre markers I reach fairly rapidly. Seems climbing these cols is best when fresh in the morning. I pass up by more picnic areas upon the riverside left, all still have campervans which have been overnighting there, through the narrow wooded ravine with granite peaks ahead. There's a hydroelectric substation and other such installations along the way: that is what the helicopter was this morning: the electricity people... Then I reach a dam wall, at the foot of which, come four steep switch-backs bringing the road up to the level of the reservoir above; from which, the road continues up an alpine valley with boulders the size of large houses scattered willy nilly along a stream through the middle. Finally without much stopping today I climb to treeless rock strewn mountain, rough pasture sloping up to granite crags and pinnacles.
Then the road ahead zig-zags up over a crest and out of sight; whereupon a cyclist passes greeting "bonjour!" and as I follow, the distance between her and me increases slowly as she reaches the first hairpin bend, before which, a young man by a parked car says in a Spanish accent to me as I pass "respect!" and I pedal harder going round and up the steeply banked bend.
I emerge over the crest upon a gently sloping grassy plateau rising to a saddle where there's a house and parked cars can be seen.
The final kilometre is great knowing this is the last mountain crossing and it is all downhill into Spain.
I have a celebratory San Miguel at the café on the Spanish side, two euros thirty. All of the French are on the Spanish side too enjoying the lower prices in the café and later stocking up on food and drinks in the supermarket. I stock up as well and then lunch on salami and baguette.
The descent road has a climbing lane for trucks, so is wide with plenty of room to maneuver round bends.
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Today's ride: 128 km (79 miles)
Total: 8,604 km (5,343 miles)
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