Going North | Day 2: Pamplona – Saint Brice

While packing my bike this morning I got plenty of people asking me if I was about to leave. In a way I was, but loading takes time and car people don’t always understand that. I did get a hint regarding the lack of parking spaces last night when an old Spanish lady tried by using mind power to convince me that I wasn’t allowed to park on that spot, even though I knew I was and I told her so. She didn’t leave until I said it was according to the police and she said she would go and get them and I replied very good.

After I loaded my bike I went for breakfast. I had an alright stay last night, a room with no extras, clean but a bit smelly of cigarette smoke and no breakfast. So I went to a bar nearby to fill up my energy levels before heading off.

the adventurers breakfast
the adventurer’s breakfast

This day gave a couple of surprises. Riding out of Pamplona in the morning coolness I was thinking that I had a few hours before the heat would strike but I was so wrong. I left Pamplona in beautiful sunshine and entered France through the clouds on road N 135 shortly after Puerto de Ibañeta.

last view of Pamplona, and last sunshine of the day
last view of Pamplona, and last sunshine of the day

It felt exotic for a bit, then scary when visibility dropped to a few meters riding the hairpins. Fortunately, I soon went down to earth again and riding was less demanding and frightening.

it feels exotic to enter France
it feels exotic to enter France

 

I rode D933 and it was beautiful. Unfortunately, it is hard, if not impossible, to stop and take pictures in many places. I did get a good shot of these police officers though. They totally discouraged me to ask for directions.

the french traffic police geard up to guard the roundabout
the french traffic police geard up to guard the roundabout

After Mont de Marsan I had chosen to ride though what seemed to be a nature area but it proved to be just a long straight road that went on for ever. Finally it ended and I passed some more interesting scenery and villages and then I reached my destination. A cute bed and breakfast close to Saint Brice.

imagine this place in sunshine when it's so pretty even a cloudy day
imagine this place in sunshine when it’s so pretty even a cloudy day

After check-in and shower I went for a walk. I had declined the optional dinner thinking that I could find a light snack. The environment was beautiful and despite the rainy sky I went for a walk. Actually, my original plan was a swim, because this fantastic place has a pool, but since the sky was grey as ever I figured that a walk would do. I went into Saint Brice and had a look, there is a beautiful bicycle lane here, and I took advantage and walked by it and looked at the scenery.

if your waiting for the bus Saint Brice is a good place
if you’re waiting for the bus Saint Brice is a good place

My greatest thanks today goes to:
The Ducati garage that fixed my heated grips. I got good use of them today – thank you!!!
And to McDonalds France for having nice fish burgers and salads (should have kept the salad sauce from last year though, much nicer than this new one) and for providing picture menus in a land where both food and talking is complicated.

My worries to day regards:
My left foot. Both feet went a bit numb while riding. Especially the left one. While my right foot doesn’t do much during a ride my left foot is crucial because it handles the gears, it went a bit problematic at the end of the day when I couldn’t shift properly. I thought that a walk would fix it, but now I rather hope that a rest and sleep will fix it. This is something that I haven’t experienced in my feet before and it seems weird after only two days of riding.

Absent minded

This Sunday started off so nicely. I went and got the Ducati a proper clean; a soap & sponge wash, followed by wax. After that followed lunch and siesta watching formula 1 comfortably from the sofa. The peak of the day still awaiting me. I planned to ride out, going north by Miraflores de Sierra to Rascafria and then head back via Cotos.

instructions for use and information about forbidden actions
instructions for use and information about forbidden actions
forbidden action - wax on
forbidden action – wax on

Since Alcobendas was warm, bordering hot today, I wore my leather and not much else. Walking to the bike I thought it was a pity it was so warm that I didn’t get a chance to try out my new gloves.

Riding up to the mountains though the temperature dropped considerably and the road was wet from heavy rain. Almost immediately my knees started to hurt from the pressure of the leather. This fed a train of thought, considering pros and cons, weather to stick with the uncomfortable but safer leather or buy ride safe water proof trousers to go with my riding jackets. And if so what jacket would I use, the summer one or winter… both Sweden and England can be chilly during summer. And what to do with the back protection, use the small one in the jacket, or the independent one which is safer but less comfortable. So many different aspects to consider. Then I stopped for photos. I saw lightning over a lake and thought it looked exotic. Then the fuel lamp lit up, that means 3 more litres to go.

shiny Ducati and exotic view
shiny Ducati and exotic view

I think it is a bit hazzly to fill up the bike in Spain. Often I have to pay in advance, and estimate how much I can fit. Or enter the shop and ask them to open the pump for me, and then enter again afterwords to pay. Therefore, I don’t like filling up the bike unless I really have to. All this is of course bad excuses for what happened out there today. Since Iäve been home not riding fro two weeks I didn’t really know when I filled it up last. Nor did I check the trip meter. Frankly I was absent minded. The result was that I was out in rural area with no clue where to find petrol and I had 3 litres to go.

The scenery up there is really stunning but now I had a hard time enjoying it, battling not only the discomfort of my knees and the cold up on 1800 meter but now also the lack of petrol and the nudging fear of the possibility of not finding a service station in time. My only comfort was that I knew my good friend Merete wasn’t travelling this weekend and she would probably even find a way to appreciate a call for help. I usually count that 3 litres give a bit more than 30 km. Passing Cotos I was also passing 30 km. Now my hope was to the down hill, thinking that I could basically just roll down not using the engine and save fuel. So I did. Turning towards Madrid at Valdeski I still didn’t know the distance to a village with a petrol station. I continued to try and use the gas very carefully and going slow, the cold also helped keeping down the speed. The air holes in the leather sure lets in a lot of cold air even though I never notice that when it’s warm.

I couldn’t believe my happiness when at 49km reached Merete’s village. I parked and picked up my phone. Happiness turns to disbelief when she doesn’t answer on either of her two phones. Good thing I didn’t know that up in the mountains. No point in hanging around so I slowly rode the bike out of the village and continued towards Madrid. Now I could feel that the engine wasn’t getting a smooth flow of fuel because of the rickety ride and I knew there is not many more meters to hope for. Then I saw them, like in a dream. Never before have the flags of Shell locked to beautiful. With a big smile I asked the service intendant to fill up the Ducati. It ends on 12 litres, that is indeed full tank.

looking back
looking back

Looking back, today’s ride wasn’t the relaxing little trip that I was expecting but indeed quite an adventure. I make a mental to fill up first, before heading out alone to rural areas. And I wonder with resignation how many times this must happen before I actually learn. Looking back it wasn’t to bad, actually, I didn’t even have to push the bike 🙂 which has happened on at least two ocations in the past.

Happiness

I do think that one post is plenty for a day but I just have to share the happiness I felt riding out today. Surprisingly enough, I tend to forget just how much I love riding and how happy I feel about my bike.

Even refueling makes me happy. Even though the price for petrol has gone up lately and it’s now crazy expensive, I feel happy filling up my Ducati because it meens I’ll have lots of fun.

I rode up to El Escorial this evening, for no other reason than to look at the castle from the distance and turning towards Madrid. I didn’t even stop, the ride is everything, the destination means nothing. On my way, I choose M-618 passing Hoyo de Manzanares. It’s a twisty park road that probably suits my pushbike better but I love to ride there because of the scenery. (I don’t actually like hairpins). I wish that I could have captured the herd of goats that passed the road shortly before I could stop and take this picture but it wasn’t possible to put the bike down safely.

Hoyo de Manzanares
Hoyo de Manzanares

On my way back, the sun was setting and it reminded me a lot about Swedish summer. My fingers were getting cold so I switched on the heated grips. After a bit I noticed that actually I didn’t noticed anything… broken 🙁 An anoying end to such a lovely ride, but to be positive, there is a lot of things that would cause greater trouble if they were broken. So, forward to To-Do list: check if heated grips can be fixed.

To not end this post on a negative note, I add a beautiful view 🙂

Madrid view
Madrid view