When I was a little girl, I always just blamed it (losing things) on the little leporcons that lived in my room and seemed to take my socks. Now, the leaporcons have followed me to Spain and now like Ruben’s socks.
Ruben’s mother makes it a point to now ask me if I have everything, because I seem to leave something behind every time we visit her.
A pair of pants last December, my Spanish book in May, and now my hiking tennis shoes that maybe have had their last adventure up a mountain, that is until I hopefully return again some day and find them again.
But if this time never comes, my tennis shoes made a great last assent up one of the highest peaks in the Pirineos, Bisaurin
with great company.
Accompanied by Ruben’s mother and Amador,
I found a earth heaven that was most vibrant because of the piercing blue of the Spanish sky.
The rock and dirt camino starting at the refuge,
extended well beyond what the eye could actually see,
winding up through scarce forest and past the breath taking lilly scattered valleys,
which actually inspired me to try a Katelyn version of the Sound of Music, “Hills Are Alive” that then lead to a grinning Spanish man.
We walk for over two hours up towards the white, until it was time, insisted by Slyvia, to leave her and Amadore at the base of the mountain.
I found a earth heaven that was most vibrant because of the piercing blue of the Spanish sky.
The rock and dirt camino starting at the refuge,
extended well beyond what the eye could actually see,
winding up through scarce forest and past the breath taking lilly scattered valleys,
which actually inspired me to try a Katelyn version of the Sound of Music, “Hills Are Alive” that then lead to a grinning Spanish man.
We walk for over two hours up towards the white, until it was time, insisted by Slyvia, to leave her and Amadore at the base of the mountain.
They watched us through binoculars walk another 1.5 hrs on sometimes unstable rock that was no problem for the Spanish mountain goats,
and well, not really any problem for my favorite Spanish mountain goat.
We past memorials to the dead that must have died there from the hard winters in the past, overlooking a horizon of colors
continuing toward what is atop all mountains in Spain.
A reminder to me that all this beauty must of came from someone that has a different name to all the people of this world.
So my story continues, because now I have no shoes, and there is nothing I like more than an excuse and a mission that includes my bicycle. I could of waited until Ruben returned from work and was able to drive me 20 minutes to the sports store, however all was aligned that day. The arriving fall dulled the heat of the sun, my projects for work were complete, all my friends in the village were on Holiday, and the mural of my favorite rock “elephant” of Montserratt)
and well, not really any problem for my favorite Spanish mountain goat.
We past memorials to the dead that must have died there from the hard winters in the past, overlooking a horizon of colors
continuing toward what is atop all mountains in Spain.
A reminder to me that all this beauty must of came from someone that has a different name to all the people of this world.
So my story continues, because now I have no shoes, and there is nothing I like more than an excuse and a mission that includes my bicycle. I could of waited until Ruben returned from work and was able to drive me 20 minutes to the sports store, however all was aligned that day. The arriving fall dulled the heat of the sun, my projects for work were complete, all my friends in the village were on Holiday, and the mural of my favorite rock “elephant” of Montserratt)
needed to dry.
Also, I wanted to accomplish my goal of exploring all the “little” beautiful roads in the Bages region. http://www.property-net-spain.com/provinces/barcelona/bages.html. Moreover, I wanted to explore the roads of Sant Llorenç i l'Obac Natural Park. 
http://www.diba.es/parcsn/parcs/plana.asp?parc=4&m=198&o=2 that are situated approximately 15-20 miles from Monistrol de Montserratt
and around-about on the way to a major city, Tarrassa, where I could purchase some new shoes.
and around-about on the way to a major city, Tarrassa, where I could purchase some new shoes.
My adventure began with a plan to get shoes, and shortly evolved into also purchasing a new helmet, because I realized “I forgot” my helmet in the car of Ruben that was now parked at the train station. Hesitantly, I borrowed the 1980’s fast looking helmet of Ruben
and began the 50 mile journey through Spanish forest that was more dense than Montserratt, because the fires of the past left the land how God intended it to be. Winding up and down the mountains
passing cobbled villages of Rockafort and Mura
and began the 50 mile journey through Spanish forest that was more dense than Montserratt, because the fires of the past left the land how God intended it to be. Winding up and down the mountains
passing cobbled villages of Rockafort and Mura
,
on roads that for a moment I pretended were made just for me and my bicycle.
Reaching the rock of Sant Llorenç i l'Obac Natural Park, similar in form and substance to the conglomerate rock of my now home, I was positive, and it was later confirmed, this was also a great place to climb.
Finally reaching the city, I now had the task to find the sports store that could be described as a “Wal-mart” of sporting goods. It seemed that two young policia had there eye on me as I was braving the traffic and stopping every 5 minutes to ask for directions while utilizing my spanglish. Yes, I was “lost”, but not for long, because they then insisted I follow them.
My 10 minute police escort lead me to my final destination to purchase my new shoes that would make it home by bicycle
Reaching the rock of Sant Llorenç i l'Obac Natural Park, similar in form and substance to the conglomerate rock of my now home, I was positive, and it was later confirmed, this was also a great place to climb.
Finally reaching the city, I now had the task to find the sports store that could be described as a “Wal-mart” of sporting goods. It seemed that two young policia had there eye on me as I was braving the traffic and stopping every 5 minutes to ask for directions while utilizing my spanglish. Yes, I was “lost”, but not for long, because they then insisted I follow them.
My 10 minute police escort lead me to my final destination to purchase my new shoes that would make it home by bicycle
Moreover, I had a more safe return with a new helmet that will now become Ruben’s new helmet, because I cannot bare to see him wear that thing again in any more countries. 
