FROM THE RACING DIARY OF A BIKEPACKER LUBOŠ SEIDL: IBERICA TRAVERSA #3
28. 06. 2019
Day 4 Sunday 16th April 2019
Sierra de Segura – near Bazalote 200 km / 4 205 m superelevation, time on road 17:20
The night was fine, just a short shower scared me for a moment, but it was over before I could unpack the bivvy bag which I always have at hand. I felt the sleeping bag and it was dry. Less than 10 raindrops had found its way through the tree canopy. So, I lay down again and fell asleep. I set my alarm clock to go off at 4:30 but I stayed in the sleeping bag during the breakfast and I was a bit slower that morning. I eased putting on the cycling shoes soaked after crossing the ford by using dry knee socks, which alleviated the initial shock, but they also got wet from the wet shoes in the first half an hour. Never mind, I still had to climb about 300 meters of altitude, which was perfect for warming up.
I experienced the sunrise at the top of the ridge and I was happy for the evening decision and the choice of bivouac. I slept super comfortably, warmed up during the initial climb in the morning and most of all I did not miss the beauty around me by riding in the dark. It was -2 °C and so I put on a Joshua jacket proven during my winter training over my windbreaker, I added cross-country skiing gloves, and I was fine except for the frozen boots. When the first snowfields appeared, I saw that Nicola had had to drive through there sometime at night, and he had probably had enough because he had not been able to go straight through the snow and his bike had often got stuck. I arrived to the cottage where I had originally planned to bivouac, and I saw one motorcycle and two bikes of some tourists in front of it. (Later I learned that Nicola had arrived there and all the bunk beds had been occupied, so he had slept on the stone ground and, unlike me, had not slept at all.)
A bit behind the cottage there was supposed to be an extremely difficult downhill ride. Andy had pointed out to us that we should not ride there in the dark at all, and those who did not trust their skills could go along the prepared longer alternative route. But I did not have that in plan, technical sections were what I enjoyed the most about this trail. It is true that the downhill ride was really a massacre but I enjoyed it very much First, there was a sharp drop over rocks and single trails to the valley cut in the rock by a river which flowed into some cave. Then a long traverse along the river slope, where the forest, clay and grass seemed to me as if I was riding at home in the Moravice river valley. It was like a breath of life for me and I enjoyed myself riding along the paths and on the playful single track which even has a decent flow sometimes interrupted by some rock so you had to be vigilant at all times (I must really have enjoyed it - the whole downhill was a STRAVA segment and I ranked 4th).
The river valley ended on a tarmac road. I passed a few villages that were not located directly on the route and I climbed up to some local Lysá hora mountain, after that some Praděd mountain and suddenly I saw a small settlement and a grill bar by the road. The staff practically adopted me. Even if we did not understand each other, they were willing and accommodating. There was a special atmosphere of a secluded place where every guest is a special event. This is how I had always imagined an inn in a clearing, only the innkeeper was happy to have some people there and there was also a Wi-Fi. I had two grille chorizos (sausages), I replenished my drink and climbed another super long hill (1500 m, so another Praděd mountain). I was doing well and the weather was beautiful like from Andy Buchs adventure travel agency catalogue.
After that, there was a long descent to the town of Siles, where I planned to have something to eat and replenish my provisions. I had crossed Sierra de Segura. It had probably been the nicest crossing of the mountains on the whole trail, but also a logistic challenge with planning the water reserves, food and places to bivouac. I arrived at a restaurant, where lunch is apparently at full swing, and I was looking forward to some tasty meal. Unfortunately, a group of pensioners arrived just behind me, caught the waiter and employed him so that I was not sure he had even registered me. After 20 minutes waiting for nothing I rose and left. I made up for everything about three kilometres further at the gas station, I replenished my provisions and water, ate and continued.
First, there was a fast asphalt section where I let Olina work, and then the road wound up to the mountains through three Sierra de Alcaraz gaps to the town bearing the same name. The character of the mountains changed as I left Andalusia and entered Castile. It was perhaps +40 °C in the sun, which was a huge difference against the freezing morning and it reflected mainly in my water consumption. At the end of the downhill section behind the first pass, I drove through a bungalow camp and stopped by a group of young people resting on the terrace. Surprisingly, they all spoke English, replenished my water and inquired where I was going from and to. I initiated them into the race and we ran on-line tracking on their tablet. They promised to offer each of my opponents the possibility of topping up their water bottles and possibly stay in one of the bungalows. They added a few bananas and a handful of muffins for the journey, said goodbye, and I went on feeling the joy of meeting such cool people.
In another downhill section behind the next gap, the sunglasses that I had hung on the handlebars when going up the hill fell down at full speed. They hit my foot which catapulted them into oblivion. I tried to find them for about 10 minutes but it was all in vain. It's a pity and I would miss them but there was nothing that could be done about that. The third gap was the biggest one. I could still ride, just like with the previous gaps, but I had to climb somewhere up to 1,630 m, so it was a bit like Sněžka mountain ☺. The visibility was clear and the moon, which was in full phase, had already risen in the sky, and so I gradually climbed higher and higher up the hill.
I had to cross some spring at the top where I replenished the water and the downhill ride started. First, on a narrow path passing between hard and sharp stones, where some shrub got entangled in my handlebars, I got stuck on one of the stones and involuntarily left the bike. I landed quite safely in a prone position above other stones and I got away with only a small graze on my right palm thanks to my full finger gloves. However, the front brake lever and the seat post moved in the frame. Nothing got broken, everything is luckily functional, I just levelled everything as it should have been and continued further. I was a bit uncertain, so I did not enjoy the downhill ride very much. It continued on the loose debris and gravel along a narrow path on a hogback with several hundred meters of deep valleys on both sides. Everything culminated with a totally unexpected end of the path on a ten-meter-high rock. Lucky me, that I was there in the light. It took me a moment to find the way around the rock and get down, and then I was riding on long forest roads, gradually losing height towards Alcaraz. It was a golden hour, so the views and panoramas were unbelievable. The only thing that spoiled my joy was the bent front wheel that I discovered when I was on a smooth surface. It was a reminder of the small accident during the downhill ride. From then on, when driving on smooth roads, I felt a kick in my hands whenever the wheel turned around until the finish line. As if I was holding a jackhammer.
I arrived at Alcaraz with a simple plan: to get something to eat, replenish my water reserves and quickly ride on. Behind Alcaraz there follows about 65 km of a bike trail leading through the corridor of a former railway line, first slightly about 10 km uphill and then over 50 kilometres slightly downhill to CP4 in the psychological half of the race, where the base trail to Valencia divides from my long trail leading to Saint-Jean-de-Luz (FRA). I reached the square in Alcaraz and there I saw people at the tables in the arcade of some historic building. I saw a Pizza sign and everything was decided. I sat down at one table. The waitress was there in a blink of an eye and when I asked her in English, she just replied: “Moment!” and pulled a guy from the next table by the collar. His movements indicated that he had been drinking there for some time. The guy sat beside me and explained to me in amazing Oxford English that the whole table was occupied by the English who had been living there and asked what I needed. If I wanted to eat properly, he recommended a restaurant around the corner, but if I wanted to eat as quickly as possible, no matter how, then I was in the right place.
I opted for speed and ordered a pizza which I had been craving for anyway. I had the pizza on the table in no time, together with one obligatory soft drink and coke for the bidon. The pizza was the frozen sort from the supermarket baked in an oven. It seemed to me that it could have been baked a little more, but it tasted fine and I had it in my stomach within a few minutes. Suddenly a message beeped - it was the boys asking me if I had gone for a beer with Nicola. I had a glimpse at the tracker and saw Nikola's dot in the same square. It'd been there for two hours without moving. So, Nicola had already found a room and was sleeping. This was a surprise for me when there was such an easy ride ahead of us. I jumped in the saddle and left without changing my plan that I would ideally go as far as CP4, which was a deserted building in the fields and bivouac there.
I just got out of the town and was on the railroad track. It rose fluently at the beginning and almost imperceptibly between 1-2% at night. It goes "by itself", the journey is variegated with passages through tunnels, some being illuminated, some lighting up sector after sector as was I passing by, in some, there is only emergency red position lighting. After 10 km, I went over the summit and just as I climbed slightly, I slightly went down. The slope is enough for me to shift to Olina gear, lie down on the horizontal bar, turn off the lights when outside the tunnels and enjoy the ride in the dark at full moon.
As I raced through the darkness, I began to feel that something was wrong. A pressure in my stomach and a great urge to go to the toilet. I stopped and ran off the embankment and tried to relieve myself somewhere in the bushes. Unfortunately, the problem escalated and the situation repeated three more times within twenty minutes. In addition, abdominal cramps occurred and the joy of riding under full moon alternated with the fact that I didn't know what to do next. I had long since resigned to CP4, I just needed to calm myself down and get better. Paradoxically, at the same time, there is an avalanche of messages from friends and acquaintances on Facebook and Messenger who wanted to support me think I was trying to make a sufficient lead to Nicola. The notifications kept beeping on my watch, but I had completely different concerns. Probably the best message was: “Go on, now is the breaking point of the race!!!” If only you had known, Pavel… I held on for a while and then said to myself: “OK, you are some 35 km behind Alcaraz, find a place for bivouac and go to sleep.” I found a beautiful olive grove where I stopped, unpacked the sleeping bag and mat. Thyme smelled around me, which miraculously calmed my stomach. It was 11:30 P.M. so I set my alarm clock to 4:30 A.M. and I calmly fell asleep.
How did I feel in the morning and how did the race continue? You can find out in the following part of my diary.
Day 5: Wednesday17th April 2019
Somewhere nearBazalote – Uňa 232 km / 2,512 m superelevation, time on the road16:37
The night was wonderful. The moon was full and the night was warm, and there was only the smell of thyme and the peace and quiet. Certainly, the most comfortable bivouac in the whole race. In the morning I did not even struggle with the alarm clock. I just had a look at my cell phone, carefully nibbled a slice of bread and poured myself a little drink. The body looks happy, so at about quarter to six I hit the road again. I was still on the rail corridor, but it's not as easy as the day before, because my progress was slowed by the headwind. I did not bother about that, though (as there was no solution to it). What made me happy was that the body was working as it should have and I could normally go. After some 15 km the route descended onto the road and after a while it returned to the former railway track again. However, at that point, the road was extremely waterlogged from agricultural irrigation towers, and I had to wade through the mud for 100 m until my chain fell off and I had to clean both wheels to make them turn and be able to go on. It was crazy… I had ridden 800 km on a bike that was only a bit dusty and then in a few meters it turned into a ball of mud
I arrived at the checkpoint, made a compulsory selfie, and concludes that it was time to pamper my body and finally have breakfast. At the same time, I checked the track ahead of me and the weather that warned against the evening rain, and it looked pretty rainy for the following few days. The track was supposed to be rather flat for the following 180 km to CP5. According to the profile, it would only rise just before the checkpoint in Cuenca when crossing some smaller Sierra de Tajo. Behind Cuenca I would cross the last major mountain range on the trail - the Sierra de Cuenca. I knew from watching some travel documentaries that it had rained there at the same time the year before. The plan was clear then - to get to Cuenca as quickly as possible, and if possible, try to cut at least a piece of the trail in the mountains that would follow.
Before I finished my breakfast, Nicola arrived at the CP and we greeted each other like old pals. We shared our experiences and each of us went on his own again. It was true he was faster on the flats and he gradually got into the lead. It didn't bother me much, as we still had over 800 km to the finish line and we were bound to meet each other somewhere again. The trail was totally flat and boring. I did not enjoy it at all. As the wind was blowing, I could not find the right position on the bars and I could not even use my all-in gear. Only the synchronized text messages from my colleagues at work tore me out of the lethargy. I replied via Messenger, we texted for a while, and I asked everyone to have a coffee on my behalf, as I had only had one so far. It really lifted my spirits. (thanks, Teri, Marek and Honza ☺).
When riding through the next village, the smell of a bakery struck my nose. I stopped and started looking for where to leave my bike. Suddenly someone knocked on the window. It was Nicola feasting in the café across the street. I sat next to him and had the coffee I had wanted so much, plus some jam baguette that Nicola had ordered as well. We had a super chat and spouted all our experiences and events from the last days at each other. We had a great laugh at how many there are. When we were leaving, we just agreed to have dinner together in Cuenca, I went to the bakery and Nicola raced on.
The route was not very entertaining, quite flat, but at least the kilometres passed quickly. I travelled the first 90 km of the day in 3:57 of riding, which was the boundary of the absolute top at the Silesia bike marathon of the same length. I took a photo of my computer and shared it with the boys challenging them to beat me in the Silesia. The guys argued with some rubbish about the elevation, so I told them they did not have to have bags on their bikes and they did not even have to ride 800 km as a warm-up. We'll see soon! After a hundred kilometres, the route was already going up and down and going more along forest tracks and paths, but I still managed the second 90 km at 4:30, which was still decent pace. The wind got stronger, sometimes when it blew from the side, it pushed me from side to side, even though I did not have a sail in the form of frame bag like most other racers.
When I stopped at a restaurant about 15 km before Cuenca just for a quick refill of water, the local regulars warned me with a peculiar Esperanto that: "Maňana water fíí mucho!“ and I replied: "Maňana Sierra de Cuenca…“ and they said: "Esta NO possibile.“ Well boys, but I had to follow the race route…
I got to Cuenca and the city was full of people in strange religious clothes, which I had seen in Granada, for some other Easter ceremony. Luckily, the procession had not started yet. I arrived at the tower whose photo is CP5, and on the roadside wall I saw Nicola talking on the phone with his girlfriend. I took a compulsory selfie and stopped by him. He said that his girlfriend was booking a hotel room for him in 30 km away in the town of Una. I asked him if we could take the room together to make it cheaper. One more phone call and it was arranged. We had good time, it was only 7 in the evening, so we went to the arranged dinner first and then we rode to Uni together.
We had to beat one more hill on the way there. Actually, the only really serious climb on that day. We had both ridden a lot over 200 km. I had done some 230 km and Nicola even more than 260, so a good sleep was welcome. The hotel price was finally better than it had been during the booking. We just had to have the bikes locked in some basement room, so we kindly asked the landlord if he could unlock it for us at 6 o'clock in the morning when we were planning to go (we didn't even dare to ask for an earlier time) and he said it wouldn't be a problem. Finally, we had rolled over 1000 km of the track, so we celebrated with ice lollies and beer while sharing our travel experiences. The other guys were about 120 km behind us at the end of the plains. We had a look at the forecast which said that it would start raining at around 6 am on the next day and then two days continuously. We would deal with it on the following day. We just had a quick shower and went to sleep.
Photo: Luboš Seidl, Nicola Canzian, Andy Buchs – Iberica Traversa