I am still around, i Spain

Wanted to let you all know I am still here. I have not posted lately becuase of the lack of access to a computer...and well.. having too much fun! I am on my way home on Tuesday and have about 6 days I would like to post about my time in Portugal, Switzerland, and Montserrat. Check back in a few days and I will have the BLOG updated with more photos and more adveture stories.

I addition, I wanted to let you all know that I am going to continue this BLOG at home in Tennessee. I have decided I am going to travel my home by bicycle to begin to understand and appreciate the unique culture that I have taken for granted. I will tell of my adventures on my BOLG. The first stop will be this comming weekend in Tellehoma, Tennessee...home of Jack Daniells Wiskey. This is the only thing of Tennessee that many of my friends that I have met in Spain and Italy know about Tennessee (well some know elvis-that will be another trip)... so why ot give them a tour-Katelyn style.

Well be back soon...look on Wednesday for more about me.

Amore,
Katelyn

Happy Birthday to me... On a train, somewhere in Portugal

I have not been sad one moment to be by my self on my birthday. I can remember in the past, I was sad at times on my birthday when I was away from my family or my ex-husband. However, this year it is different.

I guess it is becasue I am in a wonderful place and could not ask for a better 6 weeks of my life. It could also be that I was sung to in spanish last night by a big group of spanish locals out side a bar; being escorted around all night by a fellow pilgrim, Christian from Germany; having the happy birthday song typed to me in spanish by Jon my travel companion; my mom doing the same in english; or the phone call I received from Fernando and Peblo, 2 brothers I met on the Camino. Not only was their call a birthday wish but a birthday song, but a 3 piece band of a saxiphone, drums, and piano. And... all the the other email wishes from my friends and family. Thank you..

So on my birthday I am alone, I have not gotten one gift, no candles, no cake, spending the day on the trains, and posing with portugal cows on train lay-overs.... and it has been the best birthday ever becuase I feel alive again.

Amore, kATELYN

I finally made it. Portman to Santiago Spain 110l 6.5 hours

I actaully got a good start today. My goal is to get to Sandiago before 5 so I can go to the train station and figure out how to get to Portugal tomorrow, get a place to stay, get cleaned up, and go out for my birthday that will officially start at midnight...early in the night by Spainish time.

Looking at the map, I thought today was going to be remotely easy. No big mountains, no rain, and one straight shot all the way..with hardly any chances of detours-that is if I do not repeat what happened yesterday. About 50k into the ride I changed my mind. I guess I did not factor in the past 3 days I have spent 15 hours and 155 miles on my bicycle. Not only this, I have done it with 2o pounds strapped to my back, in the rain, winding up a mountain passes and foot hills, in a headwind, with my 2 smallest gears "not existent" because of a bent derailer hanger that I dare not touch in fear I would break it right off. Ya I am a stubborn optomist when it comes to most things, a Tarus. I just say I am dumb and tough. Dumb comes first.

However, if you think about it this the whole point of a pilgrimage-is to suffer a little, to have a drive to finish the goal, in attempts to slightly feel a very very small taste of what the ones that have come before you have done to make things better. In this case Christ and Saint James.

So when you are suffering and you cannot determine if your butt, knee, or back hurts more, you got tons of weight strapped to your back, you keep going in the wrong direction, your derailer is broken, and you are fighting every thought of hopping on a bus or hailing a taxi; go back to why you are doing what ever it is in your life that is uncomfortable,and remember the goal....do not give up. I try to live my life always like this, but it is usually not my body physically screaming at me. It can be my spirit, my ego, or my heart. This is much harder to overcome. Something I work to improve everyday.
So reaching Santiago what not only a physical challenge, but it has represented for me the struggles of my spirit, my heart, and my ego; I have had to overcome in the recient past..... It is only a small step of the journey I will continue to live everyday. My hope is it will become easier as time passes, I hope to become the stong woman that I want to be, I hope to inspire others, I hope to do it on my bicycle as much as possible.
Amore Always.
Katelyn

The lost Pilgrim Vega de Valcarce-Portmarin 95k 6.5 hours

I knew within the first 15 minutes I got on my bike that my day was going to be intersting. I started late beacuse of th rain. I was hoping it would pass, so I just hung out with the owners of the Albergue, and played on the internet until the rain stopped. It finally did and I headed out of town. About 10 minutes, I thought to myself, "I cannot see anything"! So I stopped on the side of the road and searched for my glasses. No where to be found.. so I headed back up the hill to the Albergue. After the owner and I searched the entire place, I realized that they were actaully on my head under my helmet. I just started to laugh and my Brazillian friend also found it amuzing.

It did not stop there...

It started to rain...again (now I know why this country is so green). Not sprinkle, but hurt my face and sting my lips hard. I had to make a decision. Stop and sit in a cafe and be wet and cold, or keep on going and be wet and cold, but not as cold if I was sitting in a cafe. So I kept on climbing the 1,200 ft climb that spanded about 10 miles..then went down the mountain pass that expended about 15 miles or so. With all the rain, I did not want to stop and ceck out the map...I mean what is so hard with following little shells? Right? Wrong....

I did not even know I had made a wrong turn about 15 miles back up the mountain pass until I stopped for lunch and took out the map to see how far and what elevation I needed to cycle to get to the sleeping destination for the night. I soon found, that the cafe I am eating my 15th tuna sandwich in the past 3 weeks, is not listed in the towns that follows the Cameno. Luckly, I found a teenager that spoke a little english. She just looked at me and said, "you in wrong place...go pack up mountain". I then proceed to say many engish cuss words.. I sounded like a drunkin sailor. I do not think she knew what I was saying, just looked and smiled. After consulting a map with my teenage navigator, we found a alternate route that was not "so much up the mountain" but scaling the ridge of the mountain then over and down...about 30k out of the way. So this lost pilgrim hopped back on the bike to find the correct "The Way" to Santiago.

You know how I said how things always work out for the best? Well this is no exception. My alternate route was exactly with Pepe was talking about..... goose bumps beautiful. Tingles all over-beautiful.

It was so beautifulk that I did not even mind when I stepped off the side of the road to adjust my back pack for the 20th time that day and landed right in a mud pit that was calf deep. So this wet, lost, muddy pilgrim just laughed it off again and headed down the road again.

BTW... I did make it....with only a 30k detour.

Amore, K

I am grumpy Guappa, Rabanual-Vega Valcarce Spain 76km 4.5 hrs

I am tired and exausted. I have only gone 55k in the past 3.5 hours but climbed about 2,500 feet into a head wind. Not only wind, but wyoming like wind..where you have to peddle to go down the hill.. and wet...did I mention rain..yes wet. I am cold. I have found a resturant out of the rain. As the other Pilgrims huddle under a big tree outside, I sit inside eating trout complete with head, eyeballs, and bones; as slow as I can so I can sit till the rain stops. It may not be a problem because the waiter has a crush on me. He keeps smiling really big, touches my face, and keeps calling my guappa. Guappa is a term in enderment that is similar to the southern darling or hunny. It can be used for a little girl or someone you are hot for. Anyway I hope this guappa can stay in a dry place for a while. I need to do another 20k or so, so I can stay on schedule. I am headed up a 1,600 foot climb and want to start my day with fresh legs for the climb. So the closer the better.

I am so amazed with beauty of this place. Today I have been riding on beautiful roads that parellel the cameno foot path. The beauty of the flowers accent all the monuments to Christ. Crosses are everywhere. There are formal crosses made from medel and stone or pilgrim made crosses that are made with twigs and pebbles.

The people are also amazing, as you pass you are greated with "bien camino" or good camino. If for some reason I am off my bicycle sitting on the side of the road, messing with my camera, doing downward dog to streatch my back, adjusting my bag, or putting on or off my rain gear for the 10 time in the day; it never fails someone stops to see if I am ok. Well I think this is what they are asking, because usually most of them do not speak english. As far as I can tell, there are alot of spanish, german, dutch, french, and itallians on the Pilgrimage.

This "welcomed" feeling is also felt in the Albergues. Tonight I found a Brazillian ran place calledAlbergue N.SRAN Aparecida DO BRASILthat what started by the owners in 2004 .It was shared that the main purpose was to expose others to the Brazilian cultures. The moment you walk in the doors, you see Brazilian decorations, hear Brazilian music, and even get to experience Brazilian food for a few bucks. We, the pilgrims, sit around a table set for 20, speak in our native languae why we are here. Our host, the owners of Albergue translate in english portugese french and spanish a wonderful toast.

Besides the obvious of why I enjoyed this experience, It was nice to have something different than spanish food for at least one meal.

Amore, Katelyn

BTW..CHECK OU TTHE LINK FOR INFO ON THE CAMINO AND ALBERGUE´S I STAYED AT

I am now a Pilgrim, Leon to Rabanal, Spain 76k 5hrs

Once I heard about the Santiago Cameno Pilgrimage, I knew I had to go and experience what millions have done over the past 2,000 years...well at least a portion of it. The pathway consisting of packed dirt, concete, gravel, and mud roads spans from France and southern Spain to end in Santiago Compostella. The entire pathway is marked with brass shells that are inlayed in city side walks, stone pillers with tiled sea shells, or paint that marks walls and roads.

After the crusifiction of Chris, Saint James came to Spain to share the gospel, King Herod did not like it...so James lost his head. After a series of events and your normal biblical miricles, Jame's body seem to find its way to Santiago, Spain. After the pilgrimages to Rome and Mecca, Santiago Cameno Pilgrimage is the 3rd largest traveled. Many come for different reason, some religious, others not. I come for many, I cannot figure it out yet, put I am drawned to this place.

Over 70,000 people a year have registered with the church to complete all or portions of this pilgrimage. Peopel come by foot, bike, and even horse back. Registering is a benefit, due to the tremendious savings that occur when you are on your way. "The Way" it is called by all, is lined with Albergues and hostels that cater to pilgrims. For about 5-8 euros, you can find a bunk bed in a dry room with a pillow and blanket, hot water,sometimes breakfast, a washing machine and computer if you are lucky. If you can learn to sleep with 12-50 people making noise, especially with all the snoring, and turning on the lights at 5am for some reason, you will find youself with a pretty inexpensive vacation. On top of this, ther are set menu´s for pilgrims. This is usually a 3 course meal with wine and bread for anywhere from 5-8 euros. Alll you have to do is show your pilgrim passport or Credencidal de Peregrino. This then will become full of stamps, documenting all the places you have stopped.

Others will also have a visible sign of their pilgrimage, besides the obvious sign of people walking or riding with a backpack full of crap, you can usually tell a pilgrim by the shell they wear on around their neck, or hanging from their pack, or mounted on their walking staff. I choose a leather version that I purchased at the monistary in Leon. When you get to Santiago, you submitt your passport then you receive a Certificate of Completion.

I am starting my Pilgrimage in Leon. This is about 350km from Santiago and should only take me 4 days to complete if I stick to 75-90k a day. My goal is to be done by my Birthday on Wednesday. So far I am on track and have completed my first day ad a Pilgrim.

Beautiful beaches and a inspiring story, Tarifa Spain

I heard the ocean again. I heard it all night from my opened window. Hypnotic rhythm as one wave collides with the sandy beach, another quiets and pulls back to the sea. Pillows propped behind my back, I am laying in a wicker canopy lounge bed that is placed in front of a beach front Hotel in Tarife, Spain; one of the number one destinations for kite boarding and wind surfing in europe. Tarife is absolutly gorgeous with its sandy beaches that look to Africa. It is a town that feels young, populated with tourists and beach bumbs. The beach at times is almost deserted except for the occasional topless sunbather or horse back riders. However, when the wind is high you will see flipped flopped, shaggy haired, tanned bodies in wet suits pilot rainbow color kites and sails as they glide on their boards across the almost perfect tide.

After a relaxing morning on the beach and the sad news that wind surfing lessons were out of the question, due to the lack of wind, Jon my travel buddy and I dedided to head up to Granada for the evening before we make the drive to Madrid.

By this time we have spend many hours chatting about all kinds of things. It suprises me what complete strangers will talk about.I guess it is becasue you let your guard down a little. You know that more than likely this person will only be in your life a short time. Maybe it is becuase you become lonely traveling in a foreign county with really no "deep" conversations (especially in my case when you do not speak the language and you are lucky if you get what you asked for when ordering food) for weeks, that you open up faster? It is refreshing and sad at the same time. You meet wonderful people that you can imagine regularly meeting for dinner, a coffee, or maybe a bike ride. You can make strong connections in a short period of time with people from all over the world. You can become inspired.

This is Jon`s inspiring story....

At first glance I thought he was local spanish man having his morning breakfast with Pepe. As I was tring to explain to Pepe about my BLOG, Jon healped translate a little, then spoke a few words in "American" english. I smiled, because one becomes a little home sick when the past 4 days have been filled with talking very slooowly...and using half english...half spainsh...and really not knowing if the person you are communicating with knows what you are saying. We started to talk about the normal things. Like where we were from, how long we have been here, where we have been , where we want to go, etc... This conversation lasted until the afternoon and Jon invited me to go with him for the next couple of days. I learned that he is actaully half mexican and half caucasian, not spanish, but lived in Spain until he was 2 years old. He is here in Spain to document where he lived in spain, find places that are pictured in childhood photographs, and find some connection with his biological parents that passesd away in a car accident when he was 2. He still has a scar under his left cheek and I can guess must be a reminder of a family unknown. The family he calls now are actually his aunt, uncle, and cousins. He shared with me that his parents do not really talk about his biological parents and a few months ago he came to a point in his life where he was able and ready to know more. So armed with a camera, a laptop with scanned letters and photographs, and video camera and tripod, this Berkeley trained former reporter in Pakistan, uses all his training and experience to find pieces to his life puzzle.

He has been interviewing old friends of his parents, finding places in photographs from his childhood and documenting the whole experience. I was there for a very small portion, to snap the photo smilar to the one he has scanned in his laptop, but now he is not a cute little boy but a 34 year old man.

I feel lucky that I got to be a small portion of this experience. It make me feel lucky for what I have and all the knowledge my parents have passed down to me...from there own mounths.

Maybe one day I will see the end of Jon´s story or maybe we will get to go wind surfing...if not I am happy knowing that my travel buddy has touched me and reminded me of what a lucky girl I am.

Amore,

Katelyn

Never know what the day will bring, Straight of Gibraltar

It still suprises me at times when you travel how you can wake up in the morning-have a plan- a goal-and then at the end of the day find yourself doing something completely different then what you expected. This has been on of those days.

My plan was to wake up, go the beach for a few hours, take the bus back up to Granada, meet up with a spanard that I met who mountain bikes-and go for a ride, then take the train to Madrid so I can head up to north of Spain for the Santiago Camino pilgrimage trail. As I was headed out of my pension in my bathing suit and cover-up, peanut butter in hand so I can have a partially balanced breakfast with toast, fruit, and coffee; Jose M Perez the pension´s owner, chased me down so he could get me some coffee and tostada. Again, this is a great offer for a girl on a budget. I sit alone with Jose (or Pepe) in the Bar section of his ocean front pension with balcony views, questionable bed linens, and lack of hot water. He begins to ask me about my travels in very...very... broken english. I try to answer in my very...very broken spanish. I tell him that I am riding my bicycle and I am going to santiageo. His aged eyes became wide, his face all smiles, the excitement was overcomming him. He wanted to tell me all about it...well in spanish..but could not find the words in english. He only was picking at his forarm and saying "muchas buento-mushas buento". I get that he was tring to tell me that it is so beautiful that it will give me goose bumps. He then began to point at him self and say that he did santiago camino on the bicycle.




He then took me over to a case on the wall that had dozens of books incased behind the glass. All had his name on them with his picture. It looks like my friend Pepe was a author. I come to find out that Pepe the Pension owner, retired ship engeneer, world travel, has written 20 books and has 5 that he is working on, he lifes on a boat in the winter, and has riden over 1200 km on his bicycle when he was 50 years old from the very bottom of spain up to santiago that is located in the far north West. Amazing man. I showed him my BLOG, and he said he wants to write a story about me.

During my breakfast with Pepe, I met a man from California that was also eating the breakfast of spanish champions, toast and coffee. He invited me to travel with him to the striaght of Gibralter. It was a easy decision, so I called my friend in Granada and told him I had a change of plans and headed west with Jon my new travel companion.

Traveling by car for the first time in 5 weeks was a welcomed change. No crowded train stations, sticky train seats, little bathrooms with no toilet paper, no confusion. I just sat there prentending to be the co-pilot. As we headed toward Gibraltar, I see now why they call it the rock of Gibralter. Yep..it is a big rock.

A british colony, as you walk through the boarder controll, the language become english, the food becomes fish and chips, and the people are white-really white. Well I will get to the good part,the monkies!!!! WE TOOK A VAN TOUR UP TO THE TOP TO SEE THE MONKIES, I thought I was goign to see a zoo type building with caged monkies...I was wrong. These little suckers that were brought over from Africa (which I can see) have taken over the place. They are everywhere. They are use to people. If you bring food they will sit on your head and put ther little monky butts on your face and clean your hair.

One actaully took my pearl earing and broke my necklace off my neck. I got it back with tempting the little theif with bubble gum.

and yes mom , I was tring to figure out a way to bring one home with me.

Amore, Katelyn

Sea Side reflection, Almuncer Spain

Today I find myself on the beach again. I say my bach because I have come to realize that no matter where you are in your life it is good to make every place and every day feel like home. Without this, I would be constantly searching for my home. A feeling normally only subsided when I ride my bike. A comfort of home no matter if I am scaling down the mountain of spain, winding through the tuscan country side, braving the winds of Wyoming with Chris and Susan and Jen, or taking my little dog cleo for a mountain bike ride around the lake in Tennessee. So now, I am here in Almuncer laying on a basically remote beach gazing at the monumnet to Del Cruz de Santo and listening to the waves crashing against the black rock beach.

For the past couple of days I have been reflecting on my life and the direction I want to go. Many opportunities, many doors, many paths, all posibilities are before me. Lost in confusion at times, feeling I should have a plan, a direction, a goal, all figured out...exactly what comes next. Again, this is my nature. Generally a good characteristic, but sometimes can become a negative attribute. I guess it came together for me when I was descending through the montain forest yesterday on my way to Almuncer. A song by blue grass/folk singer, Gilian Welch came on the ipod. I have heard the same song many times before, but as she sang the chorus line with a whinning tempo and picking in the background; I wanna do right, but not right now", it clicked for me. I associate with this..this is how I feel.

Generally, Most Americans want the American Dream. Get married in their early 20's after dating a year or hopefully a couple of years-have 2.5 kids before they are 30-have a big house with all new appliances-a SUV and a car that gets good gas mileage- a boat if you live by the water- work a 10 hours day do you can enjoy your kids and boat-if you are luck have enough annual leave left after not having to use annual leave for sick time due to stress...so you can take a two week vacation to Disney land with the Kids. I wanted this at one time. I tried so hard to get this, but it is not part of my life anymore. For some reason, I have had a anxiety to get this again. A feeling like this is how I should be, what I should want. However, this has changed. It may be what I want-portions of it, what is right...but not right now.

Being exposed to different cultures has got me thinking about what is right. For example, the Itallian (of course there are exceptions) do not get married until their mid or late 30´s. The birth rate is only 1.5 kids. They find it important to get a education, become financially stable, travel, etc. I am told the Spanish will date for many years live apart and both work to purchase a home and all the things for the home such as towels, silverware, and baby furniture. Then once this is accomplish, they will get married and have one life together... The spanish live in very small homes. This is why the tapas and night life is so important in their culture. Their homes are not big enough for dinner parties. Everyone lives and socializes at the bars and cafe´s. I have had many conversations with locals and they inform me that their culture is becomming more "American" and they ask me why. They ask me why Americans are they way they are, as if all of this was negative. I do nto know if they get their ideals from watching american soap operas, MTV or the simpsons, but if you see how these peole live their lifes, it is different and maybe better at times.

So this is all I have to say about this one...for now.

Amore, K

To the Sea I go, Alhama Granada to Almunecar Spain 88k 15k by car 5 hours

I am sitting at a bar, drinking my third coca-cola, waiting for the rain to stop. It has taken me 3.5 hours to get this far. Much slower than I thought, but this can be expected when you have 25 pounds strapped to your back. I am kicking myself for bringing all this crap- I never wanted so much in my life to leave any shoes behind until now...but Italian and spanish leather...you know what I mean ladies!!!

Add to this that I have ridden over 200 k in the past 3 days and have climed many thousands of feet. At times I am only going 10kph on flats.I am tired and look forward to getting to the beach so I can lay around and be lazy. I will deserve it when I get there. I now only have 3 hours of sun light left. I cannot brave the wet roads with the dangerous descent I have comming up. It makes it even more dangerous with the added weight I have strapped to my back...so I waite. I have already figured out how to ask in Spainish where a pension is located in the village whereI am keeping dry on my adventure to the sea.

Luckly, the weather passes and it looks like I can continue my adventure safely to the sea. However, I am concerned with the time. I soon find that I am glad that I decided to continue. The beauty is amazing. I went from farm land with rolling hills..

to mountain passes that look and smell like colorado. The pine trees and mountain roads curving and winding along the cliffs, gorges cut into the stone from water that still travels to the sea, reminds me of a place I once called home. Vertigo oversomes me again. I squeeze my breaks for dozens of minutes... my veins come to the surface of my skin...ahhhh...arm pump. I then hear a honk from a small white pick-up truck that held two gentelmen that were in the bar were I was hiding from the rain. They asked if I needed a ride. Sure!! Why not. It is better being stuck out in the middle of no where in the dark. So my bike and my carrier bag gets thrown in the back and I sit between two middle aged spanish men tring to make small talk as we wind down the most dangerous roads I have ever seen. Both BEE Keepers in a tiny village perched on the mountain side about 15k from my sea side destination, they give me a ride up to this point.

I make it to my sea side village, just at dawn, in time to take a few pictures, and find a cheep hotel right on the ocean.

So, I think..this is why I love Spain. You can ride your bike about 60 miles and ride through farm land, ride down mountain passes, and ride by the ocean. Perfect!

Amore,Katelyn

This is why I am her, Veleta, Siera Nevadas Spain 32 k 2:35 ,minutes

I am ready to ride today. I have had the last two days off from riding. I feel like a horses ass, because I have been laying around. hehehee.Days off, not by choice, but rain has followed me to Spain again. Of course, it was not bad to have two days off in Granada with my buddy liz. We got into different types of culture; flamengo dancing-shopping-dancing-tapas-discoteca-more tapas.....

So today my legs should be rested when I do the climb that brought me to spain. The snow capped mountain in the clouds-The Veleta. My tour guide was very reluctant for us to do the climb today. He was worried about the chance of rain and snow and his inability to be van support for me and liz with our difference of speed. He meant well. However, we both refused to stay another day without riding. This climb is why we both came here. I was going to the top no matter what and Liz was happy with just making it half way to the visitor´s center. A huge accomplishment in its self. You go girl!!!

We started off together in a little village outside granada. We had 7k before we started climbing up the 28k climb into the clouds and snow. You can see it the picture above looking down from the visitor's center.

I could see where I was going to end my climb, into the clouds on the snow capped moutain peaks that seem so far away. I am supprised to find that the climb was not hard compaired to theMulhacem climb that I did 3 days ago. It is differnt type of climbing. What was hard was the elements and the distance.It is different today becuase it is rainy and snowing and I know I cannot stop or it will be over for me. This means that I cannot stop for anything-no pictures-no stopping to get water-no bathroom-do hot drink at the visitor center....If I stop I will get too cold.

I soon became irritated with my tour guide and his inability to have water ready for me. He was really into taking pictures, retrospectively I am greatful. He seemed to be getting on my nerves with all the shouting in his mumbeled brittish accent from the van about how I was goign to die. He was also continously complaining about how Liz and I were too far apart. Negative energy that I try to seperate myself from. I would just tell him to piss off.. Do not worry he could not here me..because he has 80% hearing loss due to a antibiotic reaction when he was hit by a car...cycling. This makes riding with him very interesting and a adventure in its self. He does not hear cars and he seems to travel in the middle of the road, he cannot hear when I make group comands, he also has problems with his balance; making a straight line impossible. So telling him off just really makes me feel better, did not help anything and would be against my nature. I do not like to hurt anyone´s feelings. Actually, he has my blog address and will be reading this more than likely. I think he knew I was irritated. So sorry Paul :( You are a talented athlete that is continuing to make cycling your life even with barriers. Props to you.

You see, I am a grown woman that knows herself, knows her body, has cycled in all kinds of weather from extreme cold and hot temperatures, cycled at all altitudes from sea level to 12,000 ft, knows when I am putting myself in danger, knows how cold I can get, knows how hard I can push myself, on top of this I have 2 degrees in exercise science, trained at the olympic training center, raced at a high level for over 5 years, I have 5 National Championship, and one state championship. So I feel I have the knowledge plus the experience to know what I am doing. It boils down to the fact that I do not need a tour guide. I have cycled the past month by my self, If anything people should pay me to take them cycling. That may soon one day become a reality in my life. If Liz has anything to do with it :)

So yes- through the rain and snow I made it as far a I could go. All the way to the snow barriers. I decided to take the van down with the heater on full blast. 40-50 miles per hours screaming down the wet and snow covered mountain roads with my clothes soaking wet...would not be smart. But ohhhhhh the descent on a dry day... I get excited thinking about it...arm bump....one other day...I will be back.

Amore, Katelyn

Mulhacem Climb, Sierra Nevadas, Spain 106k 6.5 hrs

Yes, I was correct as expected. Vino and 4 hours of sleep do not help start a day off right when one is even struggling to put on her spandex...let alone go for a ride up a mountain. I have reminded myself that I deserve any agony that I feel today. I will not complain one time to myself or any other one. I will smile as I climb as Jim would always tell me to do.



I sit at breakfast and forcefeed myself to eat a hard boild egg, tostada "toasted bread", raisins, cheese, and a pear. I am not hungy due to my hangover and the amount of calories I consumed from Tapas and Vino. I must eat today because this may be the hardest bike ride for me up to this time in my life.

Mulhacem mountain is 3,482 meters (around 6,000 ft or so) and the seceond hardes peak in the Siera Nevada mountain range. The road up to the peak of Mulhacem is only 9k but increases 2,500 feet with sections of 17% grade and a average 8% grade. The climb is part of the Tour of Spain, a pro cycling race. Today I will ride 70k to get to the base of the mountain, my torture, the tourture I crave.





The roads are coverd with painted names of cycling pros. Actaully, a buddy from college racing days Tom Danielson, he is now a pro on Discovery(Lance Armstrong´s old team), won a race on this climb I am doing today. My tour guide thought it was pretty cool that we had similar pictures climbing up the same mountain. He gave me a copy of Tom.


Again I am greeted with switch backs that wind up the most spectacular views. I look behind and see the land that I came acrossed to get to this point where I ride. Vertigo at times overcomes me.






I pass the most interesting home that is carved in the rocks. I continue to wind up the hardest road yet to date for a ride. I am climbing a category 1 climb. Just as rivers and rock climbing have classes based on difficuilty, roads for cycling have the same system; however category 1 is the hardest. I am kicking myself that I did not put a more realistic chain ring combination on for my trip. I do not know if this is stubborness or something that was ingraved in me from my ex-husband. I would not want to be wimp. I am told by my cycling guide that most pros would not do this climb with the combination I am riding.





I stand, lean from side to side, pushing down on every stroke as hard as if I were digging a whole in Tennessee rock and clay laden dirt. I pull up on the peddles with a force that at times feels I may cause my foot to detach from my leg. I continue hoping to reach the top soon. I look up and it continues to not appear any closer.

Yes I reach to top and am shaking from my sugar dropping. I need a ice cream and sit and look at the beautiful land I just scaled on my bicycle.

Amore, Always