Day fourteen 14th June 2013

Stage 14 Teruel to Utiel

68 mile

The dawn chorus that announced the start of the new day was orchestral in its magnitude accompanied by an equally bright sun and cloudless skies. Accumulated exhaustion was manifesting itself with tired limbs and a feeling of tiredness at the beginning of the day. With a struggle we hauled ourselves from our beds, kitted up, loaded the van and headed for breakfast. Fuel tanks suitably replenished we briefed up the day and then headed out before 08:45 hours.

Spirits were high after the previous days toils, aided by the fresh air and relatively flat roads heading out of town. We knew the course to the first stop would be a welcome relief and it absolutely lived up to expectations. The surroundings were hugely pleasing to the eye with colour, variety and fertility in abundance. Teruel sits in an oasis of pleasantness with rich terracotta soils and evidence of agriculture abounds. 

Having left town the verges to the road were a symphony of colour with splashes of crimson, yellow, white and lavender offset with the intense green of the grasses flowing away to our left and right. The morning breeze sent ripples through the upturned stems and a gentle swish meandered across the lands. Beyond were a plethora of vegetable patches neatly dividing up the landscape, interspersed with groups of trees, equally varied, displaying a spectrum of greens set against an azure sky.

We then cycled through a scene reminiscent of monument valley with relatively gently sloping hills topped with stark vertical sided angular flat tops, the red of the rock mottled with sprigs of greenery.

8%, we salute you!

The calm was broken by three off tune singers breaking into a variety of tunes, all off key and the words ill remembered. Soft pedalling was the order of the day, taking in the wonder that abounded and a timely chance to preserve energy. The road twisted and turned gently with each bend bringing new delights. Soon rocky cliffs rose up on either side flanked by thick stretches of tress, some of which closed in above us as we rode, bringing with it a fresh coolness aided by bubbling streams meandering as they flowed. How delightful it would have been to stop and have a picnic or sit lazily on the river banks with a rod in hand, unconcerned as to whether the float would bob or not.

All too soon the first 22 miles were over and as we broke cover from this wonderland we took a right turn off the N330, stopping in the small town of Torrebaja. Steve as ever was waiting with fresh supplies of French sticks, cheese, ham, salami and fizzy drinks. Back in the saddle we headed back out of town. Almost immediately the surrounding countryside had returned to aridness with stunted pines littering the landscape.

A photo opportunity of a hillside village from a bridge and before long we were into another long climb. The sun was beating and the temperature was up into the mid thirties. A low gear and grind out a rhythm to get to the top was the order of the day. As we strung out and entered our own zones, it was an opportune period to make peace with the spirits and to think of the people important in our lives both past and present.

As the climb commenced there was an abundance of yellow on either side of the road, acting as our fanfare. That soon changed to sheer walls of white rock acting as an amphitheatre. The intensity of the heat was amplified as it rebounded around this cauldron and we half expected to hear a roar of expectation from an invisible and demanding crowd, at the first sign that one of the toiling gladiators should slip or falter.

Not far from Lenciana (not posed at all)

Eventually the summit was reached with beads of effort flowing freely past brows, into blinking eyes and dripping from the ends of noses. The saltiness stabbed the eyes causing involuntary wincing. The fanfare of yellow at the commencement had returned for the finale of the climb too. The Director Sportive was at the summit, ensuring that bidons were replenished before setting off again. The worst of the toil was over and flatter lands beckoned. We turned off the main road, passing through a small village and then another cheeky climb followed. Before long we were into more fertile and green lands again, the odd farmer and his tractor enlivening the vista.

We saw this tree and would like any of you followers to name it.

What is this growing?

Back onto the main road and a few miles to the next roadside stop set amongst some pines. More cheese bread and ham and a natter in the shade of the trees before the final miles to day’s end. Another change of scenery beckoned, as we broke from pine clad rolling hills onto flatter plains with small vineyards dotted here and there. What should have been an easy roll in proved more taxing with a punchy headwind forcing us into a low tuck and a weary grimace as we ground out the last few miles.

Hotel suitably located we then set about some cycle maintenance to keep the steeds in fine fettle for the last six days.

What's this all about?

Ride stats

Distance 67.8 miles

Average speed 13.3 mph

Max speed 29.5mph

Ride time 5 hours 06 minutes

Total miles 1142

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We push on

   

  

The Fozball Team

Day thirteen 13th June 2013

Stage 13 Alcaniz to Teruel

92 miles

It had been a very hard Day 12, but yet more beckoned. If we were going to get the same weather today as yesterday, we were going to struggle. Having eaten out at a local restaurant the night before, we awoke to the alarm clocks ringing at 6am. Departure had been set for 7:30am for another punishing day. The first 60 miles of the ride was uphill! God help us. Was Day 13 going to be unlucky for the Fozball Team....read on and find out

We cooked up our own breakfast of porridge, packed our bags, checked over our bikes and finally left Alcaniz at around 8am. We had a gruelling day ahead, with 92 miles to complete over some significant mountain ranges. We needed to get some quick miles in before the temperature became unbearable again. At the 18 mile mark we paused – this was the point where we had completed 1,000 miles, the most any of us had ever done on a tour.

The temperature stayed at around 22 degrees as we pushed on, climbing all the way. Gradients ranged from 3% to 7%, with the odd little downhill stretch. However these were always greeted by another long and straight uphill section. We stopped at Los Olmos at the 27 mile mark, having climbed 2,000ft. Steve had secured a position in the shade near a local school. We ate and drank as much as we could to ensure we could maintain our strength for the long day ahead.

Onwards we went, but this time we noticed that the air temperature did not rise so quickly, we were being cooled by a gentle breeze. The next stop was Escusha at the 49 mile mark. We climbed and we climbed and before long we were entering the town, which appeared to have grown up around coal mining, but the pit and processing plant had been shut down. It didn’t look good, a town in a deep recession. It was sad to see. When we looked up at the mountain ridge that overlooked Escusha, we saw dozens of wind turbines spinning lazily in the breeze. Was it these that had forced the min to close? Were they replacing the power generation potential of all that coal? Who knows. 

Leaving Escusha we headed up again, the temperature soon reached 35 degrees. Oh no, not again we thought. But over to the West clouds were looming, and we kept getting offered the shade of the odd cloud right above us. We could see rain in the distance too. When we reached the top at 1,180m above sea level after a punishing climb, the temperature had plunged to 22 degrees and we descended onto a plateau that lay between two mountain ridges.

 

We pressed on and soon reached the climb up to the second ridge which was at 1,380m, but Matt had got a puncture on the way up and we had to stop for 15 minutes to fix it. Whilst doing so, thunder roared above our heads. The summit was at mile 60, so 32 to go! We descended and got some fast and easy miles in, but we were feeling drained. Rain drops fell every now and then, but it was not enough to soak us through, just a little refreshing!  By mile 75 we stopped again, this time at a place called Alfambra. Steve had found us a small restaurant where we could sit outside and enjoy a cool drink.

17 miles to go, could we do it? We pulled out all the stops and pressed on. Whilst cycling this last stretch, we noticed an old railway line and disused stations all the way along. It looked strange, as if it had been partly restored and then abandoned. Or had it ever been completed in the first place? The line ran right into Teruel but not a single sign indicated what was happening to it. Anyone with any info, please get in touch with the Fozball Team, we would love to know more.

The scenery had constantly changed throughout the day, from barren, rolling mountains to rich and fertile valley floors. What we knew for certain was that it was beautiful:

There was one last surprise, yes, you guessed it, another climb into Teruel. However we did it. We arrived at the hotal having covered another 92 miles. We had spent 7 hours and 35 minutes in the saddle and had arrived at the hotel at nearly 7pm. We still had to do the washing of clothes and bottles, checking of bikes, writing of blogs and going out to find a restaurant to eat. We had averaged 12.1mph which was good considering we had climbed a vertical distance of nearly 2 kilometres! On one of the descents we had reached a top speed of 45mph – not for the faint hearted. We fell onto our beds and dozed. We were shattered, but we had done it. Lady luck had shone upon us today. Moreover, the team had stuck together and was now a strong as ever. We only have 530 miles to go, there is a small light at the end of the tunnel. We could actually do this!

The Fozball Team