Racing the Sun Allacante region, Spain 55km 3.5 hrs

I know why it is so green in Spain. The locals say it is unseasonablly rainy and cold. I guess it is the same in the US. I am glad I brought a rain coat, becuase I need it today. The goal is to get a long ride in before my day of travel to Italy.

I set off in the Allante Region south of the Vallencia region I expored the previous day.I will see the town and villages of Ganada, Peggo, ElVerger, Olivia, Piles, Miramar, and Bellreguary Spian. I have mapped out a 4-5 hour ride. My hope is to expore many cities and villages along the way. As I begin the ride from Gardia Spain, I run into a road block. The tourist information place that helped me the previous day is closed for the afternoon. Yes- it is siesta time and everything is closed. So I decide to wing it with a map without road mumbers, just destination points. I find a inner city bike path to route me around the traffic.I soon merge into traffic. I would go on about my traffic experiance but I would not want to worry my mother. All I can say is that my competetuive spirit and track stands have some in handy so far. Truthfully, I get a rush from combat cycling. The only probem is that the cars always win.

Heading south and exploring the cities, winding through roads, stopping and taking pictures has left me running out of time. I stop by every beautiful flower, shepherds tending their sheep, and evey striking flountain.

I make a decision to cut down my ride so I do not find myself in the dark. After stopping about 5 times to ask the route to El Verger,I find a gentelmen with a GPS unit. In broken english with random spainsh words intertwinded he directs be back the direction I just came from.I am pleased to find a remote 2 lane high way with a developed cycle path that parallels the road.As I look to the horizon, for a moment I question if the mountains have snow capping the top of their peaks. As I cycle closer I see the snow is actually houses. I FOUND MY WHITE HOUSES!!!. I can now check this off my list of things I wanted to see.

As the evening continues on I pass a road side fruit stand. There is nothin better than a orange during a ride.

I soon realize that I have about 1.5 hours left of day light. I pass the beach and continue to my final destination. My luck, I ride upon another cyclist. He is a spainsh man, small is stature, with a fast looking bicycle and fancy clothes to match. He glares back at me and begins to accelerate, Of course, I begin to match his pace. I decide to not get on his wheel becuase I am unfimilar with the openess of the cyclist in Spain. I find it amuzing that even Spanish men do not like women to match their pace. This is evident due to the increase speed and the multiple glances back my way. In all the excitement of pacing off my spanyard, I miss my turn. I opt, not by choice to continue north so I do not get stuck in the dark. I continue to race the sun and my stomach drops as I realize I may indeed be cycling in the dark. I kick it in the big ring, tuck, and gut it out the last 15km or so. I weave in and out of traffic. I become as a car and utilize the cobble stone side walks when the traffic haults. I find myself at the station just a sdusk finds me. It was a long good, but wet, day and I raced the sun and won.

Amor,
k

Just as a FYI I am on a Itallian computer and I cannot figure out how to do spell check- sorry

Today's Eden Vallencia, Spain 30 km 1.5 hrs

Today I found my country side..... I began in Gardia, Spain a medium size metropolis situated on the cost of the Mediterranean . Hose, the owner of a local bicycle shop in Vallencia, suggested a route consisting of coastal roads that quickly become mountain paths to the Serra Gallineras mountain range. As I begin my journey, my heart feels like it is in my stomach. The unknown of my upcoming travels on my bike make me hesitant just for a moment. Will I get lost? What will I do if I come upon a mean Spanish dog or even worse a persistent Spanish man? Unfortunately mace is hard to come by in this country. As I come to my first round-about, field with multiple cars yielding before entering, I have vision of becoming a hood ordiment to a diesel fueled BMW. I remind myself to be extra cautious.

I can see the mountains...or foothills (depending on your definition of mountains) in the horizon. The land soon becomes rolling and rows of orange trees ordiment the landscape. If you can imagine what it smells like to put your face in a southern Honey suckle bush- multiple this by 5 and you can begin to know what orange groves in Spain smell like. I wonder if I pick one will I be confronted by aSpanish man with a shotgun. I remind myself that I am not in Tennessee. I opt to hold off on partaking in oranges from the road side... just for now.

The hills soon become mountains and I am reminded of Santa Monica California and the similar Spanish style. Houses built into the mountain foothills ranging in colors of earth tones. Large arched windows over look the landscape.

I finally reach the little town situated 15 km from Gandia. I feel like I have just stepped into a storey book village. The quaint town had no traffic at this time, I soon learn it is siesta time in Spain. I begin exploring the single pathways with seemingly vertical roads that wind up the mountain side. The mosaic tiles, lush greenery, and iron cast windows and balconies are the perfect back drop for a evening walk with a significant other. I am content with my bike. I pass a elderly woman and ask her to take my picture. She is hesitant so I opt to take a picture of myself.

I can hear a little boy practicing his horn and being encourage by his mother.I am in the real Spain, far from tourists, MC Donalds, and cars.....

Hose, my cycle shop buddy, was persistent that I visit Relliajar. I ask if this was a town and if it is on the map. He said no...it is a beautiful place. I can access a portion of the mountain bike trail via a paved road. I wind up the single paved mountain pass road that follows the river. The pitch becomes at least 14% grade. I have to stand to make it up the multiple switch backs.

I approach the peak and become overwhelmed with peacefulness. The mountain top touches the clouds. I feel like I can reach up and touch them.This is a special place, God is here. I am quick to call the place the Spanish Eden, but know my future travels will result in many Edens. So it is today's Eden.

Amor,

k

First Day in Madrid

Welcome to my first posting. I hope you enjoy the pictures that I have posted along with a description of my travel adventure.

I arrived in Madrid at 9am. I managed to get some rest on the flight from Atlanta. It helped that I had a long week full of adventure or "drama". If you have not had a update on my week... I will keep it simple. Resigned form my job in Wyoming-moved cross county through snow, wind and rain- car broke down 3 hrs from Tennessee-moved in with my grandmother-packed for Europe- constructed a bag for my bicycle-crashed my bicycle, got bit by the dog that caused me to crash my bicycle- spent some time in the ER- and well some other things that I wish not to add You can say by the time I hopped on the plane I was ready to get away from it all. I just was wishing that maybe some good luck would find me soon. In the long run I handled it all pretty well- you can say I started to get numb to it all by the end of the week.

First luck came my way with no problems with the bicycle bag that carried my Giant road bike. My grandmother and I constructed a canvas bag with foam, grommets, a custom pocket, and straps. I was keeping my fingers crossed that the bag would meet the airlines guidelines. I knew I would have to pay the extra $200 fee for the size. Surprisingly, I was charged no fee for the bag and everyone seemed impressed that the bag had a full size bicycle inside. For all that are interested i can let you know how to make one- I will only charge you a little bit :)

Upon arrival into Spain, I quickly got accustomed to the city. Same traffic, same people, same smells, Starbucks, and metro. I quickly found a place that was more my speed. Situated in the city center is a large green park area. The smell of gas fumes became a scent of fragrant flowers. The sounds of traffic, horns, and people chatting on cell phones were replaced with the sound of chirping birds and in the background was a man playing his trumpet in a predictable Spanish melody. I made myself turn the ipod off. If there is one thing I know about myself is that I do not usually remember places or faces; the sounds and smells typically can bring back a memory.

I was taken with the large pond that surrounded the Moorish monument. The couples in row boats enjoying the day in the light spring may brought a smile to my face when I realized the typical American would not be frolicking in the park when it was raining. I guess the Spanish are different. Do they enjoy life differently? Do the women not worry about getting the hair wet or their pants dirty?


The fountains were the highlight of my afternoon. Each situated in the roundabouts scaling about 2 stories tall.

I spend the rest of the afternoon and evening wandering late into the night between the small alley streets of the old historic district. My hostel, ran by a enduring Spanish family gave me a sense of the traditional family values in this country. The whole family unit children, parents, and grandparents, uncles, aunts worked night and day to support their livelihood.

I retired to my single bed room that barely fit myself and my bicycle, my last thought was a wish that my next day would bring me to the country side where I can ride my bike.

amor' k