Albarracín Day 2: bike

October 14, 2023

I check the weather first thing and see that it’s allegedly raining so I step out the door to verify it. Confirmed, but barely - not much more than a mist. The bikes are definitely wet though, so maybe it’s been worse than this. I relocate them under a small overhang that’s just sufficient to protect them and then return to the warmth of the room. It’s a good thing there’s no wind, or we’d be trying to cram them into our small room with us.

The rain is only supposed to last until about nine though, so it should stop by the time we’re done with breakfast. It looks like we’ll be able to get in an outing today after all then, but it takes some discussion before we settle on how to schedule our day. The main complication is lunch, which we want to make rather than eat late again tonight. We could take the ride first, but it’ll be colder and there’s the risk that we might not be able to get into a restaurant when we get back. Or we could eat an early lunch - there’s a place Rachael likes the looks of that opens at one - and take a ride in the afternoon when the weather should be nicer, but we’d need to take care to make it back before nightfall.

The afternoon outing plan wins the debate, so we’ve got the morning free. After breakfast I wrap up the day’s post and walk off to see the part of town I haven’t explored yet, the wing out on the bend in the river that holds the Castello and cathedral. It’s still pretty early in the day, but already the streets are packed.

It’s probably better to avoid Albarracín on holiday weekends.

It’s after 12:30 by the time I make it back to Plaza Mayor so I call Rachael and tell her I’ll just wait here until she comes down for lunch. She suggests I go check out our targeted restaurant to see if there’s anyone there yet, which is a good idea because when I get there I learn it’s already booked. I call back Rachael with the bad news, there’s panic, and then the request is issued that I start looking around and take whatever I can find, if anything.

I do get lucky and find a place, upstairs a half block off the plaza. I’m not feeling hopeful when I walk up and enter the hall and see how small it is - only 7 tables - but I’m given a positive nod. I rush out to find Rachael - I can’t call her, because the phone’s suddenly lost reception - so I’m relieved to see her just entering the square on the other side. We dash back to the restaurant, hoping it didn’t fill in the meantime, and with relief take our seats.

And it’s a great meal, perhaps the best of the tour. We get the menu, both starting with vegetable ratatouille with egg, cod and migas (bread crumbs). For mains she has chicken breast with fine herbs and potatoes (she claims it’s the best chicken she’s ever had) and I order the bunny/brandy concoction. Desserts are excellent too - I enjoy my curd with cinnamon, honey and walnuts and she relishes her rum, chocolate and walnut sponge cake. Muy, muy bien!

We walk out sated and satisfied, and Rachael pronounces me the hero of the day for finding this place. I file that away as credit for the future, to be used as a foil the next time those Rockydarts®️ are on the launching pad.

Is this the recommended way to prepare for a strenuous afternoon ride?

By 3:30 we’ve digested enough that we are ready for our outings. Sundown is 7:30 now, if maybe not earlier than that since we’re in the mountains. We’ve got four hours. Rachael leaves first, on a hike she’ll tell you about herself. I’m right after her, lugging the bike through the house and up its narrow staircase because there’s no one around to unlock the lower gate.

I’ve got a thirty-six mile loop mapped out with a fair amount of climbing, most of it in the front half. If I keep a nine mile an hour average I’ll make it back in time, but if it looks like I’m running late I’ll just abandon the loop plan and turn around and coast most of the way back to town.

I leave town by what I now know is the right way. Just a block past our place is the top of the back entrance to town - a steep descent, but paved all the way. Once down, I follow the river upstream through its gorge for the next four miles, stopping frequently because it’s so spectacular now between the rugged cliffs and the trees along it which are a glorious yellow now. The color has really come on just in the last few days.

It’s so spectacular now that it crosses my mind to just keep biking up the gorge until it’s time to turn back.

After four miles I come to the turnoff I’d mapped out for myself and decide to stick with the plan. It’s a climb for the next ten miles - gradual at first but eventually steepening to at most 5-6% as I follow a small stream up to its source. It doesn’t have the drama of the gorge, but it’s a pretty ride in the late day light and very peaceful. Do I see even one car on the road in the next ten miles? I’m not certain, but maybe not.

I stop from time to time for a shot of course but mostly I just bike, mindful of the time box I’m in. I decide that I’ll get to the top, assess the time situation, and decide then whether to go forward or turn back.

So different to see clouds in the sky again!

It’s mostly solidly overcast but the sun does break through in a few spots.

It’s nearing 5:30 when I reach the summit. I’m behind schedule - I’ve gone 17 and have 20 remaining. It’s a complicated calculation, because I’m a thousand feet above town so the miles should go faster; but I don’t know for sure how soon it might feel too dark on the road, or even what the road ahead is like - I might find a barricade or unpaved stretch to slow me down. Or I might suffer a mechanical. Or have an arrhythmia episode.

Wisely or unwisely, I decide to go forward. I set some time goals to keep myself on track: I should be within fifteen miles of home at six, ten at 6:30, five at 7. And I shouldn’t stop for a lot of photos.

Zero can’t be the right number of photos, with this dramatic landscape and sky surrounding me. I don’t take many though, and I make them all quick. And I stay ahead of pace, even though there are several climbs interspersed between the descents - I’m fifteen miles out at 6:28, ten miles out at 6:55. A full mile ahead of schedule.

There are worries though, including the sky - menacing both because it’s darkening but also because I can see rain off in the distance, another potential problem I hadn’t considered.

Gloomy, but I’m making good time, downhill and with a tailwind. Just let that rain stay well off to the left, please.

Not quite like the gorge, but spectacular enough.

Worth one of the few stops I allow myself.

A few climbs slow me down, but the following descents keeps me on schedule.

The third quarter is the most challenging, and puts me behind schedule by a few minutes. There’s a lot of climbing, and the steepest yet - 11% for a spell - but when I finally pass over the last crest it’s only 7:05 and all downhill from here until I enter town. I should make it.

I’m sorry though that I’m in such a hurry and that it’s so late in the day, because this looks like the most spectacular part of the loop as I descend through a red rock amphitheater, the roadside crowded by huge red boulders and occasional gaps giving me views far out across the river to the east.

Maybe the most spectacular part of the ride. I’d love to come back and ride it again earlier in the day.

And I do make it, but I feel a little anxious a toward the end as the light is dimming and the sun is dropping below the hills. As I coast down and monitor my speed for safety I’m mentally calculating how long it will take walking the rest of the way if it gets too dark for safety.

And about two miles from town I start picking up traffic for the first time as I pass through an area with a pair of campgrounds. Cars have their lights on by now and they all slow down and give me plenty of space when they pass. It occurs to me that my black Bike Gallery shirt is a poor choice for these conditions visibility-wise, but it seems smarter to just keep descending rather than slow down to take it off.

The sun is just setting when I enter the suburb opposite the river from the main part of town. There’s just enough of it to give an appealing glow to the sky and to dramatically highlight the silhouetted fortified wall up on the hill above town. Also though it starts raining lightly and there’s a lot of foot traffic on this quiet road, people walking along chatting, popping up umbrellas and admiring the views.

It’s just turning 7:30 when I’m climbing up into town, just right below our place, when the phone rings. It’s Rachael. She’s home, has been tracking me on the Garmin and sees that I’m near and wants to know when I’ll arrive so she can meet me at the door to let me in. I tell her three minutes - I’m nearly there.

But it’s closer to fifteen. As it happens, I’m lost and climbing up a third road into town I didn’t know existed. And it’s a poor choice, even worse than the first time we entered town. This one brings me up by the Castello and above the cathedral. I’m turned around, disoriented and maybe even lost as I try to figure my way through the maze I was just walking through this morning. It’s disappointing to be reminded that getting out of it requires carrying my bike down around thirty steep, narrow, wet stone steps. It’s definitely a relief when I find myself entering the Plaza Mayor, and now I really do know where I am.

If you come to Albarracin by bike, zoom in on the town and study this map carefully. The best route into the upper town is the one on the far left that I took at the start of the ride.

Heart

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Kelly IniguezI'm trying to figure out how to overlay your route, the Grampies, and the Claussens to make one super route. I don't even feel as if I need to do any routing myself, if I could just make a wish mash of the three! You are all having outstanding fall tours!

We are leaning towards Barcelona, as there is a direct flight from Dallas. Or Frankfurt, which has a direct flight from Denver. Jacinto is trying to talk me into a one way trip between those two, but it almost doubles the cost of airfare. Two, one way tickets $$$.

I was caught last winter in Tucson coming home late - twice! Once it got so dark I couldn't really see where I was going. I bought a Night Rider Lumina 1200 for emergency situations. I used it this morning, leaving slightly before daylight! I did not take it with me on our summer tour, as there's so much daylight in the summer.

I'm loving riding along with you!
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1 year ago

Scott AndersonTo Kelly IniguezYes, I definitely should have had my lights with me. I looked for them right before I left but didn’t find them quickly and blew it off because I was short on time.
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1 year ago

Scott AndersonTo Kelly IniguezActually you could piece together a pretty reasonable route that started and ended in Barcelona and merged these and either the Fenwicks or Branhams current routes to bridge the stretch between Bilbao and around Toulouse. It might be long for the amount of time you two are taking - two months would probably be better - but you’re younger and faster than we are.
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1 year ago

Ride stats today: 37 miles, 2,800’; for the tour: 1,117 miles, 40,800’

Today's ride: 37 miles (60 km)
Total: 1,107 miles (1,782 km)

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Janice BranhamHoo boy, that was a squeaker. Glad everything broke your way, except for the extra bit at the end.
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1 year ago

Scott AndersonTo Janice BranhamYup. Better to be lucky than smart, I always say.
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1 year ago