Day 6 - Lone Wolf

Today has been tough. The walk yesterday really took it out of me. I did get a new bike though, and this one has a bell.

Win! After Dad's back twinge (which we figured is muscular and not a slipped disc or anything) we decided to wait and see how he felt in the morning before riding. I wasn't optimistic, though.

It was still stiff and rather than wait around, as today represented the most milage out of all of our days (about 65 km), we decided I would crack on and Dad would try to follow in the car.

Or, he'd meet me at our final destination at least. I thought this might be alright. With a fresh bike and no one to slow me down I figured I could really go for it. And I was right, but that brought with it a whole host of issues I hadn't yet had to deal with.

The early part of the day was way (way!) harder than I was anticipating. Up on the mountain the terrain was rough and the ups and downs going across it were difficult to deal with. There's something of a technical skill to cycling on these sorts of rough roads.

You need to keep peddling to keep your momentum up and at the same time you need to keep an eye on the path directly in front of you. One false move and a large rock could easily put you in the bush. And here, that bush is just a cover for the enormous cliff below it.

It was at least a lot cooler up there, but I had visions of a lovely downhill trek for miles on end. This finally did happen, but it wasn't until after a good hour or so of more up.

And going down constantly isn't as easy as you'd think either. Sure, it's easier than going up, but constantly going down over seriously rocky and steep roads is exhausting in its own way.

And going down brings with it a horrible sense of foreboding. Every inch you go down you know, eventually, you'll more than likely have to come back up. And that's exactly what happened.

The best part of the day was the dramatic change in the scenery. From the blustery mountain tops to the haze-covered hillsides to the muddy lower valley; today saw the most changes. The Spanish scenery has gone through some lovely shifts as we've moved from Leon across towards Santiago. Even the smells have changed. Where the mountain top was  cool and blustery, in the lower valley there was thick foliage and eventually this gave way to sweet-smelling pines.

Getting down into the valley, though, I think I should have stuck to the road. Down there the Camino path wandered through some ancient villages and farms but the road, once again, forced me onto two feet.

It got really tough too. Once out, and this was after about two hours of slogging it through the mud, I hit some lovely roads and what do you know, they went down!

Lovely smooth roads going down hill. Bliss. Obviously this wasn't going to last but it did mean I got a good few miles under my belt before the going got tough again. Without the need to rest I found myself continuing along the trail and only ever stopping when I became out of breath.

This happened a lot, it's really hot here, but the pace was certainly faster. Along the road my Belgium companion from the previous day caught me and promptly overtook me after a brief conversation – he is seriously fast on that bike of his.

I thought my back tyre was getting a little squidgy and became paranoid I'd gotten myself a puncture, which was bad because today of all days the path became really rocky in the latter stages. Well, rockier than it's been.

I managed to make it to our final destination by half one though. After emerging from some thick forests I was treated to the most stunning views of a beautiful river and, despite its size, it looked really rather inviting.

I left this morning around eight, so that's pretty good going I think for 65 km. I feel awful now though.

Really tired. There's still two more days riding ahead and I think tomorrow I'm going to take things much slower. It's not looking likely that Dad will be able to join me so I'll be lone wolfing it again.