Some of the highlights:
Day 1-We cycled the last 15 kliks in the dark, coming to a screeching halt when blinded by oncoming traffic and puckering mightily when we sensed headlights behind us. I was appointed to be tail light, as I was the only one to have the foresight to bring a red blinker. Probably should have brought the front light, as well, but I didn't think we'd be on the road after dark. That's what getting lost can do to the best aid plan.
Day 2-Imagine the wingeing when we all realized that we had to ride our expensive road bikes through gravel and mud or turn back and find the right road. Mud and gravel won.
Here the Pauls are contemplating leaving us dirt-bikers behind when they get on the black road.
Dave pointed us toward the mountain passes and we set off into 30+kph winds. The climb into them was bad enough, but the insult came when we had to pedal downhill to make any significant progress. I found myself struggling to make 26 kph (16 mph) on a descent that should easily have been a 50+ freewheel.
One of the best scenes was the descent into Ayora, with the castle and valley ahead of us. Dave took this shot of me as I fantasized about doing a ride across Spain as he did.
Paul and Paul disappeared up the hill in front of us and we never saw them again until that night when they hailed us from the bar, as we limped in.
Day 3-Homeward bound out of Yecla, we were on a long, slighly downhill straightaway with the wind behind us , finally, and I was cruising at 52 k, when Norman blew by, using his frame like a spinnaker. I never caught him til the next set of hills.
Mark redefined saddle-sore when he mumbled something about his nipples bleeding.
It was a great trip and we're all looking forward to the next one-maybe a little earlier than November, though.
