March 20, 2025
Day 31: Part Two: Puerto Lope to Granada
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The supper we were waiting for last night didn't pan out. We went down to the restaurant at 8 p.m. all right, but found only noisy men at the bar. We spun on our heels and went back upstairs, to eat stale sandwiches. In the morning (slow learner!) I went down and asked if they could make me eggs with cheese. No, they replied, they don't cook in the mornings. So again we dug into the food bag, and did come up with oranges, cheese, and tomatoes.
The bikes got carried down the hotel steps, a test that I think Gregory Garceau mentioned, of whether it's time to quit cycling. To keep going you have to be able to carry the bike. It's a bit of a harsh test, because if you have already had to resort to an e-bike, then you are carrying a 60 lb monster.
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We set out into the very beautiful region, that we have learned lies between Cordoba and Granada. At this stage, the Sierra Nevada adds interest, and we hope the little camera is capturing the image well enough.
At this point we were bowling happily down the N-432, which had actually embarked on an about 10km descent. N-432 was not exactly our ordained track. But we could see that, just beside the road. Forget it!
Our joy in the scenery and the downhill was short lived. We had gone less than 10 km when I heard fwump, fwump, pssst! The pssst was the air rapidly leaving my rear tire. The fwump, fwump was a mystery, one that took several hours to have a theory.
We found a spot where we could access what was probably that track we had disparaged. It's charm now was that it was off the busy road. And I got to demonstrate bike hiking ability again.
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In our travels with our current bikes, of probably 20,000 km we have not had a flat, much less one in the rear. A rear flat is an issue, because to remove the wheel you have to disconnect the Nexus internal hub from its control cable. This is not totally simple. In fact, one time Trisha Graham bought a new bike in Netherlands with one of these, and got a flat quite quickly. The hub was a mystery, and I seem to remember it did not end well. But Ian Satoor in Paris had given me a tutorial on this. It's just that I never had to do it, much less on the open road.
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We have developed a trick that can avoid totally removing the wheel, by leveraging Dodie's sensitive and delicate nature. We put the inner tube mostly out, pump up, and get Dodie to feel the escaping air. She is about 90% successful with this. In this case she did it, and discovered a small slit in the tube. Hyper careful inspection revealed no reason for this slit, so we patch the area and put things back together.
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For ten joyous seconds we again sailed down the road. But then, fwump, fwump, psssst! What could we do but to repeat the whole show, which had already taken up an hour. We looked at our patch, and could not quite tell if it had failed. Maybe there was now another puncture location? Dodie said - to just replace the tube. Ok, that now meant disconnecting the Nexus. The big thing about this, is that in reconnecting a little metal oblong button has to be jockeyed into a slot somewhere. In Paris, I had found this very difficult. Now we were out here with it on the road. My answer - I explained to Dodie about the oblong button and the slot. Dodie now credits Scott, who got her on to an online jigsaw puzzle app. She had been playing it daily for weeks. Oblong thing into slot thing? just the kind of chore she has been training for. So in it went, and in just another hour we were back on the road. Except for fwump, fwump, pssst!
What did we do? what could we do - we patched the new tube. But now we had a new observation - the tire was disintegrating!
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Glad it all worked out. Hope things are smoother from here on.
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Without riding the bike, the patch held. That meant we could at least push. If the tire is flat, then even pushing is out, because the tire goes wonky and prevents the wheel from turning.
One thought was to call to somewhere, for a taxi. This opened a problem that I have often thought about - in case of trouble, especially medical, how could we tell rescue where we were, especially if on some remote track. I have never solved that, but have thought about giving 211 latitude and longitude from Google Maps, or sending location by Whatsapp. But before someone, especially in a foreign to us language, would figure all that out, with a heart attack or whatever, it would be lights out.
Dodie was able to short circuit all these unproductive thoughts by pointing out that we were standing by an ideal location indicator:
What's more we also knew precisely how far were from Puerto Lope. But still a rescue vehicle loading on the open highway did not seem too feasible. So we decided to push to the nearest town, Pinos Puente, about 6 km away.
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We were hoping to find help in Pino Puente, such as at a gas station. But we found this:
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We pushed some additional kms, into the centre of town, such as it was, and to another gas station, this one open. We had one idea - of phoning our hotel in Granada and asking in the English they probably spoke to have a van-taxi sent out. But the hotel phone number was only a switchboard person, who said they have three hotels, there are no vacancies, they can not find our booking, they will try to reach our specific hotel reception, and blah blah until they hung up.
The man in the gas station said by translation in my phone that this town had no taxi, and he somehow refused to speak to a taxi service out of Granada, had we managed to get one on the line. He insisted we should somehow take the bus.
We did push to what might have been a bus stop. But I said, we are already stranded, so if the tire blows up again, we won't be particularly more stranded. Around this time we also had a theory. The almost destroyed tire bead was caused by a Magura brake pad adjusted too high. It was slicing through the tire and getting the tube. We couldn't quite prove this, because the brake comes on and off when fixing a flat, so it's adjustment will change each time reinstalled. Anyway, I jumped on the bike, swore off using the brakes, and we rode all the way to Granada!
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Of course we eagerly looked for clues about what this new to us city would be like. On the far outskirts, it was furniture stores and car sales:
We ran into a family on bike, first seeing them pedaling frantically in front of an impatient bus. I was surprised to see that they also had a child on board. When they stopped somewhere up ahead, we explained our problem and asked for their bike shop recommendation. To explain our problem we used a sheet we still carry, prepared by Joni, and covering in Spanish every problem she could imagine a Grampie running into, with various ways to ask for help.
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We carried on toward Granada, trying to guess what would be the Alhambra, in the distance.
We entered Granada, and found that we went though various appearances. There was a street - not pedestrian - that still had the upscale shops.
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A lot more pushing, and we came to our luxurious hotel, in a wooded area but near the Alhambra, which we still had not quite made out, despite a lot of walls nearby.
We now took finding a replacement tire as our number one priority. We bugged the reception girl into phoning a pile of bike shops, citing the tire size of 622 by 47 and its use on a e-bike. No luck, at first. But eventually she struck one. "Get me a taxi, and where is this place?!"
Leaving Dodie in the room, I jumped in a cab, and we were off, back down the mountain and to the bike shop. I asked the taxi man to wait for me, so as then to go back to the hotel. In the shop they brought out a succession of folded, weak looking tires, that were at least 622's. With not much other option, I bought one, for 40 euros. It was 622x39, I think - really narrow.
Back in the taxi, the driver noticed me looking doubtfully at the thing. I also had not thought that my tubes might not fit in the narrow confines, and had not thought to buy a narrower one at the shop. To his great credit, with his phone, he said "There are other bike shops in this town".
So off we went to one he knew of, and he again waited for me. This shop did not have the right tire either, but I did buy a narrower tube. But crap, I did not think about this being Presta. Presta is too thin for my rim. At home I have a washer-like adapter on can use to fit a Presta to a Shrader rim. I don't think I have it with me. And I also don't think the shops here sell anything but Presta!
The driver could see I was still not happy. He pulled over and began phoning bike shops. He was quite in to specifying the tire size now, and demanding the tire be strong enough for e-bike touring. He had several long conversations with bike shops, but got nowhere. So sadly we drove back to the hotel. Parked in front we looked at each other. What now? What about Decathlon, I said. It's way on the other side of town, off the autovia. Let's call anyway. Decathlon claimed they had the tire. Let's go, it will only take 20 minutes (each way)!
We sped over on the autovia and when we arrived, I asked the driver to come in with me. That was good, because he could ask where we should go in the store. In the bike department, the boy we had spoken to on the phone already had two tires out. But they were 622x37 - skinny. The boy explained that in Spain there are mountain bikes - with wide tires - and road bikes - with skinny tires. Touring bike is not a thing. I bought the skinny tire, which at least was rigid and looked stronger than the folding tire from the first shop.
We drove back to the hotel. The taxi meter said 65 euros and I tried to give the so thoughtful driver 100, but he would not accept it. We negotiated 75.
In the room, Dodie had just brought up a pair of quality burger and fries. She knew where I had been because I had emailed her about it, and she was connected to the hotel wifi. I had also Whatsapped a friend to Whatsapp her to check email. Dodie and I are so seldom apart, we do not have separate accounts of any type.
It's now after midnight, and we will turn in. Another full day of touring, one might say.
Today's ride: 37 km (23 miles)
Total: 1,038 km (645 miles)
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| Comment on this entry | Comment | 18 |
Surely tomorrow will be a better day
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I was amazed at how well prepared you are for emergencies, but you can't be prepared for everything I guess.
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