All is coming up Rosas - By Bryan Stout
I had to get up at 6.00am on Saturday morning for the long drive from Roses to Barcelona(When we visited Girona that's only half way there). More by luck than judgment I managed to find the depot straightaway to return the hire car. You may recall that I was worried about the damage I had spotted after I collected the car. They just inspected the vehicle but didn't seem concerned about the scrape at all. Maybe as I had taken out full insurance there was no issue. I took the shuttle bust to the Airport with my luggage and bike bag.
Then flew from Barcelona on the Mediterranean Coast over to Oviedo (Asturias) on the Atlantic Coast. Noticing a distinct drop in Temperature in the process.Picked up another hire car and drove 185 miles to my hotel in La Portela.This is not far from Ponferrada where I intended seeing the World Road Race Championship the following day.
I had to find my way to the last climb on the circuit where I knew the crucial moves would be made. Beforehand I'd found the only map on the web that showed small 'roads' in this hilly region and worked out a route that I committed to memory.I intended driving as far as I could then dumping the car and proceeding by bike. As on the day the weather looked grim I decided to try and drive all the way. However the route I had memorised e.g. Fork right; straight over x roads; next left; etc, seemed difficult to translate on the ground. So I more or less had to follow my nose. I made one false move which petered out so I had to turn around but otherwise I seemed to be moving in the right direction (actually let's face it I was lost!). The 'road' I was following degenerated. There would be a few hundred yards of rock strewn cart track then a few hundred yards of surfaced road. This was repeated all the way. Why the whole road hadn't been surfaced all the way I don't know. Strange. I managed, driving slowly. Suddenly cresting a rise I came upon a T junction with a metalled road where hundreds of cars were parked. Apparently I had been on my planned route all the time. The other cars had taken a more devious route to avoid road closures. So I had arrived and joined the throng of spectators walking to the course. When I got to the hill there was very little space between the roadside barriers and the bank to walk along and this was filled by spectators. I had some difficulty making my way to a suitable vantage point, along a narrow path, slipping in the mud. When I got settled I found that there was a breakaway of six riders with about a 15 minute lead. As there were no 'names' in this group the peleton were unconcerned. The Polish team were riding tempo at the front keeping their leader Michal Kwiatkpowski out of trouble. It continued like this for several laps until the Italians took up the chase and tore the race apart, many riders being shed in the process. (I got fed up with the Spaniards constantly asking me "Where is Froome").The break was soon caught and the the race was on in earnest. There were a couple of breaks but no-one was allowed to get away for long. On the descent of the penultimate hill Michal Kwiatkpowski gained a small lead. When he got to the last climb he passed me riding furiously out of the saddle looking back to see that he had established a hundred yard lead over a group of six chasers. He kept the lead to the line line, finishing with a one second advantage. Brilliant ride.
On 'my' hill the Poles had established a camp with a big awning extending from a large van.Underneath they had rows of chairs in front of a large screen TV. 'Polish Corner' had been celebrating all day so when Kwiatkpowski won they went berserk, stripped to the waist singing and sliding around in the mud. Very entertaining.
Union Jacks were few and far between at Ponferrada, certainly mine was the only one on the Mirador climb. It was very gratifying to know that this support was appreciated when one of our squad (a Yates twin I think) unexpectedly presented me with a team bottle as he rode past. Not thrown, but presented in my outstretched waving hand. This 'award' now has pride of place in my collection of feeding bottles.
On the Monday I had to get up at the crack of dawn (really before dawn) for the 180 mile return trip to the Airport. Actually it was more than 180 miles as following the Oviedo signs I got onto the coastal road instead of the motorway. This was a narrow tortuous hilly road.Very frustrating getting stuck behind slow lorries with no opportunity of overtaking. I was getting worried I would miss my flight. Luckily the road eventually met up with the motorway and I sped on at 150K per hour. In the end I got to Airport with plenty of time to spare, much to my relief.
Arrived early at Stansted and collected luggage (much quicker than Gatwick) to find that Rima wasn't there to collect me as arranged. After waiting a bit I tried contacting her by mobile only to find mine was dead. After a bit I managed to find a point to plug it in but then could' get a signal. I was just returning to the Exit when I saw her walking towards me.Relief. Luggage stowed in my car and my 'chauffeur' drove away. The end to a really enjoyable trip with the C group. Thanks for your company. BRYAN
I had to get up at 6.00am on Saturday morning for the long drive from Roses to Barcelona(When we visited Girona that's only half way there). More by luck than judgment I managed to find the depot straightaway to return the hire car. You may recall that I was worried about the damage I had spotted after I collected the car. They just inspected the vehicle but didn't seem concerned about the scrape at all. Maybe as I had taken out full insurance there was no issue. I took the shuttle bust to the Airport with my luggage and bike bag.
Then flew from Barcelona on the Mediterranean Coast over to Oviedo (Asturias) on the Atlantic Coast. Noticing a distinct drop in Temperature in the process.Picked up another hire car and drove 185 miles to my hotel in La Portela.This is not far from Ponferrada where I intended seeing the World Road Race Championship the following day.
I had to find my way to the last climb on the circuit where I knew the crucial moves would be made. Beforehand I'd found the only map on the web that showed small 'roads' in this hilly region and worked out a route that I committed to memory.I intended driving as far as I could then dumping the car and proceeding by bike. As on the day the weather looked grim I decided to try and drive all the way. However the route I had memorised e.g. Fork right; straight over x roads; next left; etc, seemed difficult to translate on the ground. So I more or less had to follow my nose. I made one false move which petered out so I had to turn around but otherwise I seemed to be moving in the right direction (actually let's face it I was lost!). The 'road' I was following degenerated. There would be a few hundred yards of rock strewn cart track then a few hundred yards of surfaced road. This was repeated all the way. Why the whole road hadn't been surfaced all the way I don't know. Strange. I managed, driving slowly. Suddenly cresting a rise I came upon a T junction with a metalled road where hundreds of cars were parked. Apparently I had been on my planned route all the time. The other cars had taken a more devious route to avoid road closures. So I had arrived and joined the throng of spectators walking to the course. When I got to the hill there was very little space between the roadside barriers and the bank to walk along and this was filled by spectators. I had some difficulty making my way to a suitable vantage point, along a narrow path, slipping in the mud. When I got settled I found that there was a breakaway of six riders with about a 15 minute lead. As there were no 'names' in this group the peleton were unconcerned. The Polish team were riding tempo at the front keeping their leader Michal Kwiatkpowski out of trouble. It continued like this for several laps until the Italians took up the chase and tore the race apart, many riders being shed in the process. (I got fed up with the Spaniards constantly asking me "Where is Froome").The break was soon caught and the the race was on in earnest. There were a couple of breaks but no-one was allowed to get away for long. On the descent of the penultimate hill Michal Kwiatkpowski gained a small lead. When he got to the last climb he passed me riding furiously out of the saddle looking back to see that he had established a hundred yard lead over a group of six chasers. He kept the lead to the line line, finishing with a one second advantage. Brilliant ride.
On 'my' hill the Poles had established a camp with a big awning extending from a large van.Underneath they had rows of chairs in front of a large screen TV. 'Polish Corner' had been celebrating all day so when Kwiatkpowski won they went berserk, stripped to the waist singing and sliding around in the mud. Very entertaining.
Union Jacks were few and far between at Ponferrada, certainly mine was the only one on the Mirador climb. It was very gratifying to know that this support was appreciated when one of our squad (a Yates twin I think) unexpectedly presented me with a team bottle as he rode past. Not thrown, but presented in my outstretched waving hand. This 'award' now has pride of place in my collection of feeding bottles.
On the Monday I had to get up at the crack of dawn (really before dawn) for the 180 mile return trip to the Airport. Actually it was more than 180 miles as following the Oviedo signs I got onto the coastal road instead of the motorway. This was a narrow tortuous hilly road.Very frustrating getting stuck behind slow lorries with no opportunity of overtaking. I was getting worried I would miss my flight. Luckily the road eventually met up with the motorway and I sped on at 150K per hour. In the end I got to Airport with plenty of time to spare, much to my relief.
Arrived early at Stansted and collected luggage (much quicker than Gatwick) to find that Rima wasn't there to collect me as arranged. After waiting a bit I tried contacting her by mobile only to find mine was dead. After a bit I managed to find a point to plug it in but then could' get a signal. I was just returning to the Exit when I saw her walking towards me.Relief. Luggage stowed in my car and my 'chauffeur' drove away. The end to a really enjoyable trip with the C group. Thanks for your company. BRYAN
