A game of inches

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I seem to have the unfortunate habit of starting the day off in the poorest possible fashion. I was prepared, on the morning of the restart to hit the ground running (or riding…). Everything I thought needed doing had been attended to, and with some trepidation I was going to head off on another adventure. Alas, my front tyre had leaked over time, and my attempts to pump it up were futile. I think my pump has lost its ability to stop the air from flowing back out once it has been pushed in by me. This makes pumping up a tube rather difficult. I thought maybe it was the tube that was the problem, so after trying the other tube to no avail, I concluded it must be the pump. So I headed off, with one flat tyre in search of a pump. I came to the nearest service station, hoping that the pump there would be compatible to my bike tube luckily it was, so I quickly pumped the pressure up, higher than I have been able to get it. So for the first time in a while I’ve had two fully inflated tubes, all the way to capacity. It certainly makes a difference in terms of comfort, and rolling capacity. This was not to be the last snag I hit on my first day back. Unfortunately, due to some unforseen reason, my rack has broken in about three different spots. This means that it has now started to rub on the back tyre, unless I perform a balancing act of extreme precision. I’ve tried to fix the problem with cable ties and duct tape, but I think the injuries sustained may be terminal. All I ask for is that they make it a few more days. It seems to function well enough on good quality roads, without too many undulations in the road, but as soon as the quality of the road is diminished, I spend more time fixing than I do riding. It seems a little pointless though to buy one for only a few 100 more km on the road. I pray that my ramshackle bush mechanics can see me through to the finish. Meanwhile, the rain was pelting down well into the afternoon, making for a rather miserable start. The only positive in this was that the riding itself was comparatively easy. Flat roads made for good distance made. I held out hope that by late afternoon, the promise of dryer weather over the next few days would come to fruition a little early. And I was rewarded by keeping the faith. By around 3:00 the rain had stopped and the clouds began to make their way back over my head and towards where I had come from. That made for wet riding of a different kind, water was replaced by sweat. I had almost made my way all the way to the coast when I decided that enough was enough, and call it in for the night. It was disappointing after a few nights of good heart meals, to be eating out of a can again. I look forward greatly to the time where canned meals no longer make up part of my daily routine. It was an exhausting first day back, not so much physically but mentally. I hope I can make even more progress tomorrow, getting ever closer to my final destination.



Another pretty good day was had on the road. The rain from the day precious had well and truly disappeared and the morning was a crisp clear one. I made good progress through the area known as the ‘Great Lakes’ (I think). My first stop was Mimizan, a nice little town on the coast. I quickly got my supplies for the next day and was once again on my way. It was optimum riding conditions, sunny, breezy (but not windy), and flat. I was still having trouble with my rack, although my efforts to tape it back together were proving more successful than I had anticipated. It was still causing me trouble, but just less of it. I was making my way along the coast towards the Spanish border. As I was drawing nearer to the border the landscape started to change, it progressively grew hillier. This is a slight problem. With the taping being rather fragile I have to be careful not to shake the bike too much. This means that getting out of the saddle is not a viable option. This then means that climbing the progressively tougher hills poses even more of an issue. This issue was going to be more prevalent in the coming days, heading into the Pyrenees. The rest of the day went by smoothly. I pulled into Ondres campsite for the night, needing to charge my appliances. It wasn’t cheap but it was worth it just to have the peace of mind. I caught my first glimpse of the Pyrenees in the afternoon, a majestic sight, but one that also strikes fear into my legs. I know it’s going to hurt but I know well that it will feel absolutely incredible to have ridden through the famed mountain range.



The next day started full of promise, I was making great rogress along the coast, working my way towards the shadow cast by the ever present mountains. The coastline was beautiful, reminding me of sections along the great ocean road. I made it through the resort town of Biarittz without any worry and was making swift progress towards the Spanish border, now only 25km away. This is where the problems began. I stopped just before lunch to grab a snack, a cold can of coke and a packet of chips. The hot morning sun had taken its toll on me. While breaking, I was alerted to the fact that one of the spokes on my back wheel had broken, which meant that slowly but surely the wheel was going to buckle. i was confident that it had only broken a short while ago, so I carried on, in the hope of finding a bike store to either replace the spoke or, if need be, the wheel. It was frustrating, knowing I had to spend yet more money fixing it up, but at least it was something that could be resolved. What happened next is a tale of profound woe. Exiting one of these small costal communities I heard a pop, followed by a loud gush. One doesn’t like to hear that sound when riding a bike, it brings a great deal of frustration. I knew that the tube had gone, but for wat reason I was unsure. It didn’t take long to deduce that the screw lodged in the tyre had been the cause of the flat. A game of inches, if I had ridden a mere cm either side of the screw I wouldn’t be where I am now. Still, a flat tyre can be dealt with. So I removed the screw, found the nearest service station and set about changing the tube and hoping that the back tyre would hold up, despite the hole caused by the screw. So there I was, tyre all fixed and ready to go, when I noticed the spare tube losing inflation at an alarming rate. This was all too much. I couldn’t believe the chain of events that had just transpired, one after the other, compounding my feeling of injustice. I gave up trying to fix it, and with only one thing on my mind (getting this ridiculous business off of it) I started walking. I knew it was probably the irrational thing to be doing but I didn’t care one bit. I needed to let off some steam, and the best way to do it would be to make me think about something else (the pain in my legs primarily). So off I went, hoping to make it the extra 15 km to the Spanish border. Luckily for me, my IPod was working (after a few days of intermittent success) which meant that I was able to dstract myself further. After a few hours of walking I finally made it across the border into the Spanish town of Irun. The realisation that I was going to be stuck here for at least two nights dawned on me, the next day was Sunday and a bike store was unlikely to be open. So I started my hunt for a camp ground, which I assumed would be relatively straightforward. They were everywhere you looked in France, but unfortunately, none were to be found on the Spanish side of the river. I recalled seeing a sign to campgrounds just before the border, so I headed back over in search of a nights accommodation. Little did I know it would take me at least 5km back the way I had come. By this time I was truly exhausted, my legs were starting to cramp and my back starting to play up. I was desperate, and just as I was about to give up I found one. I stumbled onto the grass, and due to the sheer tiredness I was experiencing, lay down for a good hour. It had been one incredible day, for all the wrong reasons. I’m sure I’ll look back on this day with pride, but right now I couldn’t think of a worse day I’ve had on the trip.



I had one of the best sleeps I’ve had in a long time. My legs felt so good when I woke up, that tired but content feeling. I knew that the shops were going to be closed on a Sunday so I could take my time getting up. I spoke to mum and dad to let them know what had happened and what I was planning before heading into the town. It was a much longer walk than I anticipated, it took me the best part of an hour to make the trip. I was able to find the bike store for the next day, it looks comprehensive and should be open early enough for me to make a good progress. I’m dreading having to make the trip in again, as I can already feel my feet starting to feel the ill effects of the walking. I thought I had missed the opportunity to go to church, but I accidentally found one when wondering, and it started right when I got there. Perfect timing. It was an incredibly beautiful church inside, the whole of the front wall was covered in gold, depicting religious scenes (as these churches often have) but the way the light struck it, illuminating the figures was truly amazing. I’ve stopped at Macca’s now to give my feet a rest and also catch up on blogging, I’ve been far to preoccupied over the last few days to worry about something as trivial as my blog. I also want to say a big congratulation to Erin and Jake (cousin of mine) who had their baby overnight. I hope everything is well and I look forward to teaching Lachlan all the tricks of the trade in the near future.



Cheers,



Tikka



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