Day 10: The ACT or the TET?

I woke up cold this morning, no wonder, everything was frozen. 

After lingering to let things defrost a bit and to ease my numb hands after handling the front tent flysheet, I set off down the steep hill on tarmac with some trepidation. In the UK the tarmac would have been icy and a every bend a dice with a fall, but here, the road surface was rough and no bother at all.

The trails were the same as always, winding through some beautiful woodland, down some steep inclines and rolling into the next valley. At around 10 ish, I was hungry and thirsty, so stopped by a steep beck to boil up some coffee and porridge. Once repacked, I set off again feeling much better, until the front tyre slid out and dropped me on my side in some mud. On a bend which  switched left, then right, it slid again, this time leaving me with around 4 inches between me and the several hundred metre drop. That's it, time for a new front tyre. Once back on tarmac, 

I found a coffee shop in the village of Paramio, then worked out the route and decided to bail to Braganca, which looked like a really big town. Once there, I stopped ata garage to ask for tyre places and the owner jumped in his car and said 'follow me'. We wound through loads of bits of town to a little back street motobike shop called Brigmoto. The lass in there had a Mitas C19 and, (I think), her dad was the mechanic. There was some sweating as he took off the E09 Dakar and he punctured my existing tube, so replaced this with a 4mm Continental, which I've never used before. Once done, I debated about finding a hotel and a bed, but decided to do some shopping, get fuel and then head out again. I haven't seen a shop or a fuel garage since I crossed the border yesterday. 

The road between Paramio and Braganca, wow. A perfect bike road, superb tarmac and just awesome bends. A 690 supermoto or a great little sports bike and you could have a right giggle on that road! After looking at the TET route and the ACT route, I found out the ACT started about where I was parked,so I took that for the day to see how it panned out.

It's fast, on open trails until you hit the muddy bits, then its a slog. The navigation is much easier than the TET. I was just getting bored, when it came to Castelo de Algoso, which looks like a medieval tower perched on a big chunk of granite. One hell of a job building it! From here, the ACT drops to a beautiful pack horse bridge, then has a steep climb out. Both sides of which were good fun. It does a similar thing later on, but between them is some big distances on bendy tarmac. 

I guess if you want to blast along and are on a big 200kg ish bike with limited time, you'd enjoy this, but I must admit, I'm hankering after the TET route again, so have picked where I'll turn off and pick it up tomorrow. 

Camp tonight was next to a reservoir on a scenic loop of the ACT. The sun was turning the sky red as I parked up, some clouds have been dogging my path all day, so I'm hoping they go away and it is dry tomorrow again. It makes such a difference and I really need to dry some kit again. 

Hey ho, sleep time. 

Day 9: Border Crossing

I woke up to silence this morning, that was a first. Then I realised I had earplugs in as it was the only way to sleep in last nights wind and rain. The tent earned its keep for sure. 

The sun was just starting to brighten so I could see what I was doing, so my curiosity peaked, I got dressed and unzipped the tent, hoping for sunshine. No, no wind but mizzle and I was in the clouds. 

I packed everything up soaking wet and set off with coffee on the brain. The trails were steady away at first, then they got rougher. The route wound through some lovely back water lanes on this last part in Spain. I came across some workers clearing a section, I think they were saying it was blocked, but as I didn't understand them, I just said thanks and carried on. I came across a downed tree, but could get under it and then some really washed bits, but again bounced through. 

Around lunchtime, I crossed into Portugal, within 20 minutes, the sun started to shine and it just got warmer as I traveled. Awesome, I love the warm sun!! A stop for some coffee and a toasty in a little cafe saw me get some WIFI, so I did a couple of Facebook posts and answered some emails, then set off again to make the most of the sunshine. 

The trails in Portugal so far were rougher and more technical than the Spanish ones. There is less maintenance it seems and what there is is done by the locals, often with no machinery. The drainage could do with some serious TLC, they remind me a bit of the unloved green lanes in England and Wales. 

As I wound on following the route, the cobblestoned villages stood out, all neat and tidy. I was very conscious of my bike engine noise and in a couple of places, I saw shepherds with their flock, who were startled by the engine note. I would have to throttle back or pull the clutch in to let them settle, then ease past them. There is some big hill climbs on this section, start in 2nd, run out, click 3rd, run out and finally 4th for ages to the top. The views aren't stunning, but the green rolling hills are lovely to crest and see rolling away in the distance. 

As the day drew to a close, I came across a ford that was way to high to cross, so it was find a route around, then start hunting for a campsite. I ended the day perched on a hilltop in some pine, trying vainly to get the tent dry in the disappearing light. Hey ho, it's dry, the starts are out as I write this and the temperature is dropping for the night. 

Tomorrow, I finish the section scooting along the Spanish border and after Braganca, start to turn south into Portugal proper. 

Day 8: Bouncy, Bouncy Trails & High Camps

Started the day in the wet and grey, finished in the same. Apart from about two hours in the middle, it hasn't stopped crap weather all day long. At least it's warm! I seem to have left the Eucalyptus forest behind and moved more into the pine. A bit like Wales or Scotland really. The trails have been rougher today, lots of heavily washed out sections, still plenty of climbs, but less steep downs. I've also came across a few downed trees across the trail and several sections that have sloughed off the road banks and almost blocking the route. Bikes can get through, but they'll need sorting before wider vehicles can continue. The trees added some fun for the most part, apart from one section where two bigger ones were across the route. I tried to find a way around, but everything dead ended, so in the end I had to turn around and use some tarmac. This allowed me to source fuel as well at Cortegada, near the Portuguese border. 

Once back of the TET, I came across two old ladies walking their tiny little dog, soon after a tree was down, I took a detour up a bank to get around it and was just spinning the back wheel on a big tree when they caught me up and offered to help. They both had soft little nice shoes on and although I'm sure they were strong as, I just said things were buenos and they moved on. I rolled the bike back to the track and moved the offending tree, then as I was about to get on, they popped their heads back around the corner and asked if I was sure? I said a smiley thankyou and popped up the bank and rode by them shouting 'Mucho Gracias' and 'Ciao' as I rode off. 

I lost my top bag on one of the really rough hill climbs today. The stitching on the £32 bag just couldn't cope and ripped the bottom strap clean off. This slackened everything else and off it all tumbled. I found out when I hit a big hole and had to jump off the bike to save it, noticing a distinct lack weight as I did. The fuel bladder was about 300m down hill, the main bag about 600m. What a slog to get back to the bike, I was hot and dehydrated again, so at the next village, there was a beautiful granite source with two big washing troughs, so I sat under the shelter and drank a load of water whilst munching on almonds and appreciating the craftsmanship that had gone into building that source. 

My camp for the night was under some large granite boulders high up on a hillside. It was better sheltered but still really windy and the rain was lashing down on the tent again. We'll see what tomorrow brings. I'm skimming along above Portugal at the moment, meandering towards the final part opf the northern Spanish TET. I thought I might finish it today, but it'll be tomorrow now. I'm fed up with this wind and rain, its like being back home. At least the trails are engaging.  

Day 7: Bushwacking

I left the hotel in Santiago just as the sun came up. Their heating bill will be higher for my room as I whacked it up all night making sure all my kit was dry. Good practice for the Sahara! Time seems to have changed a bit since I started this trip, I never know what day or time it is. It's either food time, fuel time or riding time with once a day, sleep time!!

Having spent some time looking at the route last night, I'd decided to head to Padron, SW of Santiago. The road down there was really busy, after days of no traffic, it was a bit of a shock to the system to suddenly have to think about others on the road again. A full tank of fuel and another cafe con leche down my neck and it was off onto the trails again. 

This area is made up of white and pink granite. Plus points, it dries quickly and drains well, downside, on steep gradients there are marble of crystals everywhere, so no hard braking and keep and eye out for the regular side cuts draining the excess water off the hillsides.

During the morning, the trails were all easy, flowing and climbed up and down rolling hills or dodged down little back streets in villages. As the day wore on, the trails got rougher, with a few requiring real concentration with the deep water cut channels and rock strewn everywhere. All of the day wound through either Eucalyptus forest or vineyards. The smell of the Eucalyptus was lovely after all the rain. The trail wound back towards the coast and followed this, towards late afternoon it turned eastwards and started to run adjacent to the Portuguese border. I suspect I'll cross this tomorrow now.

My camp for the night was more a lack of choice than anything else, tucked in a small firebreak just off the route. I'd passed loads of good places with water, tables etc, but as usual, I thought I could get a bit farther, so carried on! At one point during the day, I made a nav error and rather than turn around, I thought I could take a short cut and rejoin off an old section of forestry piste. That was a mistake. The track narrowed up and I found myself in an awkward place where I couldn't turn around and everything below me was thick fallen trees. I decided to unload the bike, then get it over the next log as there was an obvious way down from there. It didn't go to plan, the bike ended up facing uphill above a hole, no traction and a big boulder which sucked the bike right between it and a tree. Hey ho, Climb underneath it, lift the back wheel and lower it down. It was nearly there, when the bike decided to just drop onto the back wheel, tumble backwards over itself and land upside down. Oh well, it was down! Next, get it through the bracken and bramble back to the track below. Lots of sweating, kicking trapped bramble and good old 690 was back in a rideable place. 

I took the trail back up to the same height as the dumped luggage, then retrieved that lot, had a dunk in the river as I was poring in sweat by now, then reloaded the bike and off I went again. (Note to self: Turn around earlier and don't get into that again!!). The bike was typical KTM. Get it back on its wheels, check it over and start it back up ready to go again! 

I do need to straighten the rally screen though as two of its brackets have bent.

Day 6: Washed Out to Sea...

It has belted down all day, sometimes heavy, sometimes light, but not really stopped except for 10 minutes at a great stopping point. I've taken two photos all day. 

The bike was all loaded by a very lazy 10am. I had deliberated about staying where I was, but decided that wasn't acceptable at all, so brushed off my absolute dislike of being cold and soaked and set off into the grey cold and miserable day.

Overnight heavy rain and high winds have started to cause a lot of flooding here, the rivers are over their banks and the fields and in one case, a whole playground, was under water. I  gave the TET route a nod, but that was about it. Tarmac all day long, well almost!

First to Lugo, 120km away from Ponteferrada, (where I'd spent last night). I was soaked through to my undies with no waterproof trousers and getting really cold, so a coffee and some Tortilla in a nice warm cafe seemed to do the trick and I set off again to Santiago De Compostela, roughly the same distance again. Same thing, really wet and cold. The rain showers seemed heavier and more prolonged on this leg. As I zipped past on the motorway, I saw a Decathlon and heading into there with the hope of finding some cheap overtrousers. Much joy and 20 euro lighter and I now have a spangly set of cycling waterproof trousers. I should go faster and look leaner now!

Feeling warmer, especially since I remembered the Adventure Spec waterproof jacket had a hood designed to go under a helmet, how much heat does that keep in! So, my goal finally coalesced in to reaching the most westerly point of Spain, which happened to be 45 miles away. 

No matter how hard I tried to navigate towards it though, I always seemed to be going in the wrong direction. First on a Payage motorway heading south, then winding through villages whose exits always went east or south. Some perseverance saw me get onto the right road at last and I wound down to a lighthouse perched on a little peninsula called Faro Tourinan. 

Ironically, this was the only dry part of the day. The waves were crashing into the rocks and the place felt wild. Sunlight and rain showers danced across that rather angry looking sea and the swell crashed into the granite cliffs underneath the lighthouse. A truly fitting turn around point!

Back to Santiago,  (via a short but fun section of the Camino route), using the Satnav part of the GPS, I should have tried this earlier!. Once back, I rode around for ages trying to find somewhere to stay. You can tell it's the off season. Finally found a 3 star hotel with an underground garage, 36 euros for me, 8 euros for the bike in a heated space no less!

Tomorrow is looking to be the only dry day in the next week, so I'm heading south to Portugal chasing some sunshine and hopefully to get back on the TET. Tarmac is OK to get you to places, but it is a soulless journey.

Anyhoo, here is the pictures! I'm going for a beer now!

Day 4: Soggy, Soggy, Soggy.

 I hid in the bothy all morning, the weather was cold, very wet and windy. Just like being back in the UK. I used the time to sort out niggling things. I now have a Spain basemap on the GPS. For some reason and despite the laptop and Garmin Basecamp being able to see the maps, the GPS unit couldn't. Swap out the Micro SD card for another with exactly the same files on it and hey presto, I have a map. Stupid electronic faeries playing again!

I also sorted out the cooker, some repairs and found that one of the crashes in the last few days had crushed the plastic tub with all the spare bolts in it. Hey ho.

Around midday, a group of Spanish folk in a 4x4 called by, they told me the forecast was snow above 1600m for the coming night and all the next day, that was enough for me. I decided to drop down from the planned next two days of riding the higher hills and err on the side of caution for once. Having lost my over trousers a couple of days ago had me worrying about hypothermia once I got soaked on my upper thighs, so I duly wrapped up in everything I had and set off down to a tarmac road. 

I ended the day by trying a section of the TET on the lower hills and found it was so slippy and muddy, with some hairy descents between deep washed out ruts surrounded by trees all covered in a beautiful lichen. Again, common sense called out, (I must be getting old!) and I headed to a town, where I booked into a hostal for the night. A hot shower, a shave, some beer and a hot meal seemed a great idea as I was now soaked to my undies again.

Hey ho, we'll see what tomorrow brings and decide from there where to go next!

Day 3: Up and Over to the Bothy

I set off as the sun was changing the sky again, it was pretty cold and there was some ice around, so I picked my way up and down the hills. 

The morning was lots of the same as yesterday, long climbs, long descents, warm and sunny. I stopped at a cafe for some coffee and tortilla, then refueled before heading back up. 

As I moved further west, the terrain changed from the rocky peaks to a more rolling moorland type terrain. This also meant more mud and more villages. These lower heights are where a lot of stock seemed to be as well, so I encountered about 10 of the wired gates. You do have to be looking for those little plastic bags swinging in the wind to see them though! 

Water run off seemed to be greater too, suggesting its wetter along this section. The cold temperatures meant sheet ice, which you can usually bypass on the trails, the tarmac is a bit scary though. 

At one point, I dropped down a fantastic ridge line past an isolated chapel and entered an obvious quarry section. No one was around, so I scooted through to the village below and then back out and up into the lovely deciduous forest above. 

The trail climbed and climbed, it was again getting dark, with the true full moon on show and the fading sunlight highlighting the high ridges across the valley. 

I kept going, with a plan to get to a col and camp there, but luck saw me find a bothy, a really nice one too, with somewhere undercover for the bike as well. 

A local guy turned up on an old AJP dirt bike, neither of us spoke the others language, so with the help of his phone, he asked me if I was planning to use the bothy for the night and then showed me where the wood pile was as it is under cover and wished me a good night. 

A cloud inversion was coming up the valley, lit up by the moonlight, but as the wind was getting up, I heading inside and settled down for the night.

Day 2: Picos to a Ruin!

I pack up and am moving by 7.30am, passing two rangers on their way up the valley. As I descend, I pass a fountain next to a high summer village. It looks like stock and people stay up there for the warm time and descend for the cold season. Although plenty of the buildings need some TLC unfortunately.

The rest of the day is a mix of a bit more tarmac split by loads of superb hill climbs, ridge traverses and long descents. Its warm, sunny and dry, riding through the mountains with no pressures and no need to be at any one place. This is my nirvana. 

There was a little bit more technicality to some of the lanes today, as I joined the main West-East TET route. The forestry section was just like the UK forests, steep, overgrown and route finding was interesting.

Two more falls, one on a short steep uphill, the front just slid out on the bend, the bike went down hard as I was accelerating up the hill, the second was due to tyre pressures being too high for the slippy soft muddy ruts. The bike slid out, leaving the wheels higher than the handle bars, which meant I had to take the top bag off to get it upright. I then promptly slid away from it in the mud and it fell into the thorn bushes! Plenty of swearing, some bush kicking and it was back on its wheels. 

As I was loading the bags back up, two hunting hounds appeared, next there was a shotgun blast and I got sorted super quick after that and rode away!! 

My camp for the night was next to an old ruin, across from a ridge where the moon had just risen and the glow of sunset was just beautiful.

Day 1: Santander to the Picos

The ferry from Portsmouth slid into its berth at Santander around 6am, just as the sun was cresting the horizon, which lit the town up in a lovely light and promised a beautiful sunny day. As I rolled down the ramp, I felt a bit relaxed, considering I'd had next to no sleep on the ferry. When I booked, all the cabins were full, so I took the 'Comfy chair' option, what a joke, those seats were designed by a descendant of the Spanish Inquisition, who was clearly laughing their heads off at every passenger on those ships!

Couple that with several issues which seemed to crop up as I came to start the bike. 1. Couldn't remember where I'd stashed the bike key for safety, so hunt out the spare. 2. GPS had no base map and I couldn't find the torqx key to unlock it. 3. Two phones had no base maps on the app I'd spent ages downloading a week ago. Technology, it's fab when it works, but a dead weight when it doesn't!

I called into a petrol garage with a cafe, used their WIFI to re-download the maps again, one problem resolved, fuel was next and some Euro's. Once all of these were sorted, I followed the purple line on a blank screen on the GPS, which is surprisingly easy when you've used them as much as I have over the years. Right, riding time!

Tarmac roads took me out of Santander to some villages and then into some woodland alongside a river for the first of many lovely trails today. The TET here starts to climb pretty quickly and the lanes get longer and steeper. The views back down to the sea under a deep blue sky settle me into a rhythm of climb, traverse, descend. I saw some fab wildlife as I rode by, a huge vulture, plenty of black kites, a buzzard and lots of the local guard dogs protecting the stock in the hills. 

My first fall of the trip came in the afternoon, a short section full of deep puddles. I cleared them until the last one, which turned out to be deep and have a vertical exit face. The bike stopped dead, I didn't, at least not until I hit the stony surface about 4 foot in front of my bike! A bruised hip, a broken phone case bracket and mud everywhere. (Note to self; go a bit more steady with these puddles than the ones in the UK!!).

I finished the day riding in the dark up and over a pass under some of the main peaks of the Picos. The nearly full moon and clear sky gave a glowing light to everything and the snow on the tops just made things brighter. Good job as there was plenty of ice on the rough surface to avoid. I love riding in the dark in the hills, its a bit scary as you're dependent upon your lights normally and they are limited but on nights like this one, it may as well have been daylight.

Once I'd descended past the icy bits, I set up a camp by a metal cross. Once the tent was pitched, I stood enjoying the fantastic night, before the call of some Dalwhinnie and my sleeping bag pulled me inside.

A superb and varied day of riding, this is what the TET is all about.