Retirement – Page 6 – Avoiding Potholes

Camino de los Siete Lagos

Sometimes the intense joy that comes from bicycle touring can be almost too much to bear.

Last Sunday was such a day, riding down the magnificent Camino de los Siete Lagos (Road of the Seven Lakes) in Argentina between San Martin de los Andes and Villa la Angostura.

Known as one of the most scenic bikes rides in the world, we were fortunate to enjoy it on a calm clear day beneath a cloudless sky. It began with a long climb out of San Martin, winding up the mountain for over 10km. Full of energy, we would have made it to the top in one go had it not been for a beautiful Mirador (lookout) looking back down the valley.

At the top it felt like being launched into the high Andes as we swooped across mountain plateaus, down through dark ancient forests and past lake after lake of breathtaking beauty and crystal clear purity.

We paused at the Arroyo Partido (the divided stream) where a few innocent rocks have caused the stream to split into two separate channels, one flowing to the Atlantic the other to the Pacific. It’s an important moment … if you’re a drop of water!

There was an old mountain restaurant for coffee, the only one we saw all day. Then a picnic lunch next to the still waters of Lago Villarino. It was perfect!

After 78km we arrived at a junction leading to Lago Traful, reputed to be the most stunning lake of all, where we had booked a hostel. A paved road led invitingly up the hill that guards the entrance to the lake. Unfortunately it soon turned into the dreaded ripio!

Having now spent several hours bumping along the infamous South American gravel tracks, here’s our guide to the 4 different types of ripio we’ve experienced:

Good Ripio Hard packed mud, often kept damp under trees with just an occasional stone. A slightly bumpy but pleasant ride.
Bad Ripio Fairly hard packed gravel and stones, like a good farm track. Feels like being shaken around on a fruit sorting machine.
Very Bad Ripio Corrugated and full of ruts, huge stones and sand, like a very rough farm track. Feels like riding through a minor earthquake.
Impossible (sometimes hilarious) Ripio Deep sand or stones, as on a dry, soft beach. Causes the rider to grind to a halt and walk, or to catapult over the handlebars.

When riding uphill they adjust by one category (good becomes bad etc.). There’s no such thing as good uphill ripio. The volume of traffic is also a factor as each passing car creates a unpleasant dust storm.

The road to Lago Traful started out as good ripio but quickly deteriorated into bad, then very bad ripio with an unhealthy dose of traffic. We managed just 3km in half an hour with another 20km still to go. As Andy paused for a drink to sooth his parched throat an anguished howl rose up from the dust 50m behind him.

I … AM … NOT … RIDING … ON … THIS … RIPIO … ANYMORE

(Actually there was a more descriptive word between THIS and RIPIO. We’ll leave you to fill in the gap!)

The decision was made … we turned around and started hauling our bikes back over the hill. After all, it was only another lake!

There was still 35km to reach Villa Angostura for two now-very-tired cyclists. But there was a silver lining ahead … an extra rest day!

It didn’t spoil a wonderful bicycle touring day which included three new personal bests:

115km cycled
2040m climbed
78 lake views

Two days later we cycled a mere 84km along the shores of the vast Lago Nahuel Huapi to the town of Bariloche, the centre of the Argentine Lake District. This included a brief introduction to the steppe, a windswept barren land of vast distances and big skies that stretches from the mountains to the coast.

Deciding that you can never see enough lakes we then spent a scheduled day off riding around some small but very pretty lakes near Bariloche on the Circuito Chico (small circuit) with time for both a long lunch and a little canoeing.

Bariloche itself was something of a surprise. Built by Swiss and German immigrants it’s Argentina’s chocolate capital and is the base for one of the countries most popular skiing areas. There’s certainly no shortage of chocolate shops but instead of alpine quaintness we found a working town with some interesting rough edges.

We thought the town planners must have gone for a long Argentine lunch instead of working on a few architectural guidelines!

*Why build that monstrosity behind the pretty town hall?*

After just one week in the country we’re not really qualified to comment on Argentina … but here are a few observations anyway.

It’s very different to Chile, partly because it attracted a lot of Italian as well as Spanish migrants. This is evident in great coffee and pasta, even better gelato but also in more aggressive drivers that are noticeably less tolerant of cyclists. Several times we’ve been angrily hooted off the narrow roads onto the gravel hard shoulder.

Supermarkets are dominated by three things – beef, beer and red wine – all vital ingredients for asados (big family barbecues) that are seen, smelt and heard across the country.

We’ve now travelled on both the Seven Lakes Road in Argentina and the Seven Lakes Circuit in Chile. We’re not sure if the names are just a coincidence or a bit of rivalry between neighbours?

Whichever it is, the Chilean lake circuit is smaller, gentler, more peaceful. The Argentine version is bigger, bolder and more dramatic. Perhaps this is a little like the psyche of the two countries?

Clare and Andy

Following Che across the Andes

In 1952 a 23 year old Che Guevara crossed the Andes with his friend Alberto Granado on a Norton 500 motorbike by taking 3 ferries and riding over 50km on rough tracks.

It was the beginning of a voyage of discovery across South America that was to heavily influence Guevara’s revolutionary spirit. His account of the journey was published posthumously in ‘The Motorcycle Diaries’ that were also brought to life in a 2004 film of the same name.

*A replica of La Ponderosa II – Che and Alberto’s motorcycle*

We followed their route back across the Andes from Bariloche in Argentina to Puerto Varas in Chile.

Bikes strapped to the front of the first ferry it felt as if we were about to travel into much more remote terrain.

Before that we had a short ride to the next ferry that took us across the emerald green waters of Lago Frías. Then we passed through Argentine customs and the real cycling began.

We’d been told that mountain bikes were needed for these tracks, advice that proved to be right as the first 4km climb was too steep for our tyres to get enough grip on the sandy surface.

The only other cyclists we met did have mountain bikes so we were secretly pleased to discover that they also had to push their bikes up the hill. With her zig-zag pushing technique now honed on many ripio climbs, Clare easily beat these three strong young men to the top. Andy won a consolation prize for attempting to cycle the most, but he still finished in a distant last place … mainly because it takes him so long to get on and off his bike!

The actual border between the two countries was at the top of the pass although it was still some 30km down to Chilean customs, sensibly situated in the valley at Peulla.

The three mountain bikers soon sped off down the hill and from that moment we had the trail to ourselves. There were no cars, just an occasional 4-wheel drive bus taking tourists to the next lake crossing.

We took our time, cruising slowly down a good ripio track, stopping frequently to sit by a mountain stream, watch a pair of condors lazily circling overhead or simply to enjoy the near silence of the forest.

It was a real wilderness experience with moments of sheer elation and wonder, especially when we rounded a corner to gaze up at the hanging glaciers and waterfalls that tumbled off Mount Tronador, the highest mountain in the region by far.

As the path flattened and the valley widened out into a riverbed, the track deteriorated into bad then impossible ripio so we found ourselves walking once again. This meant that we were extremely late arriving at the customs buildings, long after everyone else and after the officers had clocked off for the day.

Summoned from their houses, they stamped our passports and directed us to a small white bungalow “por los bicicletas.” A little confused, we rang the doorbell and waited for several minutes until a cheery official emerged looking as though he’d just been woken from a late afternoon nap.

He asked to see our bicycle documents. We had none, we had never heard of any bicycle documents. Oh dear … big problema!

Bemused and clearly worried that he might have to impound our bikes, his smile faded into a frown as he asked us where we had come from.

Telling him we’d cycled from Bariloche that day clearly wasn’t enough … he wanted to understand our whole journey. So with lots of actions and even a few vehicle noises we took him through our trip:

Londres to Santiago (plane noises, arms out) … Talca (pedalling motion) … Temuco (bus noises) … over the border to San Martin (more pedalling) … Bariloche (pedalling and puffing) … across Lago Frias (boat noises) … aqui (here)

“Ahora? he asked.

Guessing that he hadn’t understood, Andy went through the whole pantomime again. He waited patiently, then repeated a bit more insistently “Ahora? Ahora?”

“He means now,” said Clare, “I think he’s asking where we’re going next.”

OK … Petrohue (boat noises) … Puerto Montt (pedalling) … Santiago (plane) … Londres (plane)

With a big smile he sighed “Ahhhh … Bueno. No problema! No problema! Adios.” Then he shrugged, waved us off and shut the door.

We’re not sure who was more relieved. And we still don’t know what those pesky bicycle documents are for!

We stayed the night in a large hotel by the edge of the lake at Peulla. It was actually a little sad … only 10 years ago demand for rooms was such that a spanking new building was built to complement the faded old hotel that had been serving travellers for just under 100 years. More recently the number of people staying in Peulla has declined dramatically and the old hotel has been forced to close.

It was like wandering into the set of a Hitchcock movie.

The third and final boat crossing was at 4.30pm the following day, arriving at Petrohue two hours later. As well as ferrying tourists, it’s a lifeline for the 30 or so families that live around Lago Todos los Santos. There are no roads, so their only access is from the water. They simply motor out on a small boat to the middle of the lake and jump on or off the ferry.

*Commuting from work – this lady had just hopped off the ferry*

Arriving at 6.30pm was a bit late for our 60km ride to Puerto Varas but we thought we’d enjoy an evening ride along the promised ‘luxury cycle path’, anticipating only an hour or so in darkness.

It didn’t turn out like that!

As the sun set around 8.30pm a freak storm suddenly blew up out of nowhere. It wasn’t in any forecast. We scrambled into our rain jackets, put our heads down and rode into the darkness, only stopping for a much needed banana boost. The rain was so hard that drivers had to slow to a crawl, peering cautiously through their windscreens. We just hoped they would see these two bedraggled cyclists!

The cycle path turned out to be excellent, a real godsend. But progress in these conditions was still painfully slow and it was well after 11pm when we eventually arrived, dripping onto the steps of our guest house.

*Before the storm … celebrating the end of the ripio!*

Over the next few days we completed our journey with a short 20km ride to Puerto Montt, a flight to Santiago and then to London.

In 6 weeks we’ve cycled 1,478 km or 918 miles in 105 hours, significantly less than our journey to Barcelona. But we’ve climbed up 22,260 metres which is a lot, lot more. That’s two and a half Everests!

Despite all the ripio, all the potholes, all the broken glass on the side of the road we haven’t had a single puncture. Not one! We’ve only had to cope with one broken chain (Andy) and one broken spoke (Clare).

Here’s some final maps showing where we’ve been:

We’ve had a truly wonderful experience … from the craziness of Valparaíso to the big skies of the Colchagua wine valley to the raw beauty of the Andes and their many lakes. It turned out to be a bit more adventurous than we expected but the extra challenge has started to make us better touring cyclists.

*Statue in Puerto Montt – Clare sometimes looked as worried as these two*

One of our lasting impressions of Chile will be the people, amongst the gentlest and kindest folk we’ve ever had the pleasure to meet.

Thank you for following us on this journey. Until next time…
Clare and Andy

Many Different Mallorca’s

“You say Majorca, I say Mallorca. Majorca. Mallorca. Majorca. Mallorca. Let’s call the whole thing off!”

As (not exactly) made famous by Ella Fitzgerald

Apparently, we Brits just couldn’t get our tongues round the double “ll” in the Catalan/Spanish spelling of Mallorca … so changed it to Majorca instead.

Nowadays Majorca is often associated with the beer swilling kiss-me-quick antics of Brits in Magaluf. But there are lots of other Mallorca’s to discover and a bicycle tour around the island is a perfect way to do so.

For those of you who might be even a little bit tempted to cycle there, here are the places we visited plus a few things that happened to us along the way.

Day 1 – Palma

Palma is a beautiful and fascinating old city with a history that embraces Islam and Christianity in equal measure. We spent one day exploring but you could happily enjoy several days there seeing the sights, discovering the art, wandering the back streets, eating the tapas, drinking the wine.

*The Spanish certainly know how to build cathedrals!*

There’s lots to discover simply by wandering around. We came across this strange English Bookshop, an Aladdin’s Cave of assorted clutter overseen by an old chap who might have apporated straight out of Harry Potter’s Diagon Alley and spent much of his time shouting at customers because they were disturbing him from catching up on Strictly Come Dancing.

As you’d expect, Palma is full of lovely small restaurants and this gave Clare a perfect opportunity to practise her Spanish. When she ordered asparagus but was served cuttlefish, she decided she might have a bit more to learn! Fortunately, it was delicious.

Day 2 – Palma to Cala D’Or

90km, 644m climbing, 5hrs 30mins (too long but easier for the next 2 days)

To be honest we found it a little difficult to hire bikes that came with racks for our panniers in Palma. There are plenty of shops renting out either fast road bikes or slow city-bikes-with-baskets but touring bikes are few and far between.

We found one in Andy’s large size at Nano Bicycles but there was nothing for Clare in a small size at all … which meant it became her lucky week! Deciding that we could manage with just two panniers, she was now free to try out a superfast Cannondale Supersix EVO Di2 from Bikehead, complete with electric gear shifters no less. It was light enough to pick up with one finger!

So the Girl Racer and her Packhorse eventually rode out of Palma and onto the long beach strip that runs south-east of the city. It was packed with day cyclists and we were relieved to escape into the quiet country lanes south of Llucmajor and head down to the lovely coastal town of Colonia de Saint Jordi.

As we stopped for a drink and large slice of apple cake, we realised we’d already ridden 60km which is normally enough for us. We probably should have stayed overnight in Saint Jordi but we’d already booked a small guesthouse in Cala d’Or further round the coast, so we climbed back on our bikes and pushed on.

After the hilltop town of Santanyi, we headed down a rough track through a national park on one of Andy’s dreadful detours to a small bay called Cala Mondrago. Luckily, it was worth it and from there the south-east corner of the island became both surprising and delightful as we explored the port of Porto Pedro and arrived in Cala d’Or.

Cala d’Or means Golden Bay in Spanish and it certainly lives up to its name. Built around no less than five small inlets, including a spectacular marina, it is both manicured and affluent. Unsurprisingly we heard lots of Scandinavian voices and saw plenty of German newspapers protecting sunbeds on the pristine beaches. They know how to find the best places!

After a long ride, Andy was once again on a quest. Not for safety pins this time but for some soothing chamois cream to ease the saddle sores that were developing beneath my cycle shorts. Foolishly I’d left my tube on the kitchen table back at home. No luck … none of the bike-hire shops sold chamois cream, or indeed any of the other normal biking accessories. Clare suggested using sun cream instead … and I must admit it did help … a little.

Day 3 – Cala d’Or to Arta

64km, 718m climbing, 4hrs 30mins

This part of Mallorca was so pretty that it was tempting to linger. We pottered up the coast to the broad bay of Portocolom for coffee and then onto the working marina at Portocristo. Here we came across some port workers enjoying their Menu del Dias lunch, washed down by a surprising quantity of wine. It seemed rude not to join them.

*Do I really have to cycle this afternoon?*

A good lunch, a few glasses, a swim, a lie on the beach later we reluctantly decided to pedal on, heading inland to link up with the Via Verde cycle track which follows a disused railway line that used to connect Manacor to Arta.

The Via Verde is a gravel track, tricky on the slim tyres of Clare’s deluxe road bike but perfect for my touring hybrid. There was so little traffic, I felt able to pedal whilst studying the map on the phone on my handlebars, completely forgetting the wooden barriers that blocked the path from time to time. It was a sudden but reasonably gentle crash, panniers flying but no other damage. A bit like a horse refusing a jump. Stupid boy!

It was fun to roll into the old station at Arta making train noises. Less fun but very therapeutic was the guest house plunge pool we used as an ice-bath to ease our tired muscles. Just as well … there was still no chamois cream to be found anywhere!

Day 4 – Arta to Port de Pollenca

66km, 526m climbing, 4hrs

The only road out of Arta was the main Ma-12 but it turned out to be much nicer than we’d expected. After a short climb, we rolled gently downhill for nearly 10km, feeling very smug as we passed a few cyclists puffing their way up in the opposite direction.

Knowing that the northern coastal strip was less interesting, we turned inland and immediately discovered yet another Mallorca. One of pretty remote farmhouses, surrounded by olive groves that were filled with sheep turned brown by the rust coloured earth, bells tinkling from their necks.

The backroads took us through several traditional Mallorcan walled towns in quick succession … Santa Margalida, Muro, Sa Pobla. Each with tightly packed streets and a church dominating the central square.

Then, we turned into the stunningly beautiful valley where Andy decided to take off with the peloton until Clare summoned me back to bring the inner tube for her puncture…

Once we’d recovered from all the hilarity, we cruised gently down to Port de Pollenca, our home for the next two nights and one of the most popular cycling destinations in the world. Cyclists come here in their thousands to tackle the challenge of the Formentor lighthouse and to climb the Tramuntana mountains.

*Looking across the bay at Port de Pollenca*

Just what we were planning … let’s hope Andy found some chamois cream first!

We’ll let you know how we got on in our next post.

Clare and Andy

Mountains of Mallorca

According to Anders, the best 3 rides in Mallorca are Cap Formentor, Sa Collabra and the Ma-10 between Banyalbufar and Andratx. Anders is the very helpful Swedish owner of Bikehead, where Clare rented her bike, and he’s cycled all over Mallorca many, many times … so he should know.

We promised him we’d ride all 3!

Day 5 – Cap Formentor

43km, 1112m climbing, 3hrs

Having driven out to the Cap Formentor lighthouse the year before, we were a bit scared of tackling this spectacular winding road on bikes but it turned out to be a lovely ride and good training for the mountains ahead. Each climb is only about 200m high which is roughly the same as a Bath hill at home. Unlike Bath, there are plenty of scary cliff faces to peer down, the kind that give you tingles.

Andy enjoyed a day cycling without panniers but was less impressed by a very slow puncture that needed pumping up from time to time. I thought it might be slowing me down when an older coupler cruised by on one of the steeper hills using apparently little effort. A bit miffed, I stood up on my pedals to accelerate until I realised they were riding electric bikes.

Cap Formentor deserves its reputation as a great day out on a bike. Our top tip would be to bring your own lunch so you don’t have to resort to a very expensive potato sandwich from the café next to the lighthouse.

Day 6 – Port de Pollenca to Soller

63km, 1400m climbing, 4hrs 30mins

Our first job was to repair Andy’s slow puncture so we headed to a bike shop to buy a spare inner tube. Hallelujah … there in the back corner was tube of chamois cream!

Aaaaahhhhh …

Climbing at an average gradient of 6% for 7.5 km, the Coll de Femenia was our first proper mountain road since the Pyrenees last year. It felt good to breath in cool mountain air again as I watched Clare race ahead, struggling a little with the weight of the panniers.

At the top of this first climb the road rose gently up through some stunning high mountain scenery until we reached a tunnel that marked the start of the descent. Sure enough, we sped down for a few km but our fun was ended abruptly by a sign announcing the start of another climb to the summit … up for another 5 kilometres.

Ouch!

It turns out there are two tunnels. Perhaps we should have looked a little more closely at the map!

When we eventually made it through the real tunnel-at-the-top, the view across the valley in the late afternoon sunlight was worth the effort as was the 18km descent, full of switchbacks down to Soller.

Day 7 – Sa Colabra

28km, 1200m climbing, 2hrs 30mins

The road down to the tiny port of Sa Colabra is both an extraordinary feat of engineering and a kind of folly.

Nobody is quite sure why Antonio Parietti, the Italian designer, created it in the 1930’s. Perhaps it was simply for the challenge and sheer joy of it, although it’s unlikely the workers thought so as they laboured to move a million cubic feet of rocks by hand to make room for all the sweeping corners and switchbacks.

Nowadays, it’s recognised as Mallorca’s best bike climb both for the physical challenge and the sheer joy of the incredible scenery. It’s a proper test, averaging 7% for 10km.

We wanted to experience both an ascent and a descent of this iconic road and discovered that we could do so by taking a boat along the coast from Port Soller, returning late afternoon.

As we slowly made our way up from the port, Clare felt full of energy and passed quite a few MAMILS (middle-aged-men-in-lycra) on the climb, somewhat to their surprise.

Andy on the other hand, overtook just one cyclist and he doesn’t really count as he was pushing his bike at the time. I had no panniers holding me back that day so I had no excuses. It’s the first time I’ve experienced that common cycling cliché … “he just didn’t have the legs!”

Legs or not, it’s not often a bike rider gets the opportunity to complete a Strava segment with genuine professionals on the leader-board. The current leader of the Sa Colabra climb is Columbian, Sebastian Gomez from Team Sky, who sped up in 24 mins 54 seconds.

My time of 1 hour 52 mins 33 seconds puts me in 48,459^th place (out of 48,844). Clare didn’t have Strava turned on, but it’s fair to say she’d be a teeny bit higher up the leader board.

At the top of the climb we were rewarded by the ultimate cyclists’ dream … a nice café with some excellent coffee. And of course, by the opportunity to swoop back down this amazing road in a fraction of the time.

Day 8 – Soller to Portals Nous

63km, 1483m climbing, 4hrs 40mins

The Sunday roads were empty as we climbed out of Soller heading south down the coast, a gentle autumnal mist hanging in the valley behind us.

This turned out to be a delightful section of the Ma-10, that runs the length of the Tramuntana mountains, full of breathtaking views out to sea from villages that cling to the wooded slopes. The road is well graded and we only came across one steep section, just south of Deia.

Around midday, we arrived at a junction and had a big decision to make.

Do we turn right and keep our promise to Anders by riding the long way around the coast? Or do we turn left up a shorter inland valley with the promise of Sunday lunch in the small town of Puigpunyent?

We turned left.

Touring cyclists like to experience a variety of different landscapes … and of course, touring cyclists like lunch!

Heading south, the inland route proved to be nearly as beautiful as the coast road, with gentle uphill climbs through vineyards and lemon groves followed by steeper switchbacks on the way down. It was so quiet we could look ahead to check for traffic before trying to take the racing line, almost like real cyclists.

Day 8 – Back to Palma

20km, 429m climbing, 1hr 30mins

On our last day, we enjoyed a gentle potter along the coast to Palma with time to pedal around the city and enjoy the sights.

Clare’s Spanish must have improved while we’d been away. This time when she ordered asparagus in the local tapas bar, she got asparagus. Vamos!

As I’m sure you can tell, we loved our cycle tour around Mallorca and would recommend it to anyone.

The bad news … when we admitted to Anders that we’d only completed 2 of his 3 ‘best rides’, he told us that the one we’d missed (the coast road to Andratx) was the best one of all … by far.

The good news … this means we’ll have to come back.

After all, there many Mallorca’s to discover and we have barely scratched the surface.

Clare and Andy