TransPortugal Day 3

Portugal: 3. Erik 0. The severe beating continues.

Woke up feeling decent this morning, not cramping, but was tired so slept in as long as I could. Belly felt stuffed still so for breakfast I had a Boost and a banana in bed. It was nice starting right from our hotel and having simple morning logistics. I was cautiously optimistic as today was net downhill and felt cooler to start.

We rolled out at 10am and I found myself easily holding a decent pace. It was probably mid 20's for the first 90 minutes, and I was moving forward through the earlier starters on the first long climb despite setting out with the simple goal of riding easy and steady. I had a stitch in my side for 25 mins that I've never had on bike before, but after the first descent it went away.

We rode ridgelines up near where Tori and I rode a couple years ago - they cut fire roads in to limit the ability of forest fires to jump across I think. One way was view to Spain, other to Portugal. I was eating well and it was being burned well - felt great just to have everything working. Climbs were rewarded with loose gravel descents, not long but a nice relief, much like the top of Moose mountain going down to Moosepackers. Every descent I'd pass a few more riders, not really my objective, but if I'm pedalling up something I want to coast down it. All in, best feeling so far of the trip - fun riding and fueled body. Unfortunately somewhere in this zone a guy broke is collar bone.

I slowed down after descending from the ridge to ask the guy behind me how far to next checkpoint with water, and turns out it was just over the hill we crested. I drank one whole bottle of electrolyte, refilled it so I had three, ate, and left feeling pretty chipper.

Little did I know the sun was staring down at me seeing my glimmer of hope and about to crank it up a few notches... like god was playing whack-a-mole. The next 60 minutes shaped the rest of my day. It was like sitting in a hot car with the heater blowing in my face. It was a gentle up grade, and I just kept shifting down to try to keep my effort below what I could keep my temperature in check with... and I got right down to walking speed in a hurry. Funny thing was that nobody was passing me, I think everyone was stifled there. The wide valley we were crossing had few trees, I found one about 2/3 of the way across. I stopped and just tried to get my sh-t together, it helped a little. I crawled onto the opposing slope and kept looking at the cut lines fearing which one we'd take - the checkpoint 2 people just said "across, then straight up". I tried to stop for some shade, but we were going through a reforested area with short trees, plus the sun was pretty much straight over head. I put my bike down and crawled into the bushes for a couple minutes, as I was trying to cut my stop time today. 2 minute shade breaks were helping.

Straight up it was. Reminded me a bit of a La Ruta death march. Turned a corner, saw 10 people on varying parts of the ascent, and started climbing. In home like temps this would be a great training climb. Here with no air moving and the sun over me was torture. As we climbed, the trees were larger, say up to 3m. I'd try to go 100m between stops. Upon reaching the top, the traverse road had full trees on the other side, so there was plenty of shade for a rest.

We quickly descended the other side, and I happened to pass a few of the people who asked if I was ok when sprawled in the shade.

From there, we crossed another basin to the town of Monsanto - a rocky mountain in the plains with a town and castle perched beautifully on top. Of course we couldn't cruise by and see it from a distance, we had to ride up it.

The course there was full of hotness amplification tools. We rode on white quartz like what goes in ashtrays that was so reflective of the sun that the bottom of my forearms is burnt (I can't figure out any other probable explanation of why the inside of my forearms are burned). We rode through quaint farm fields in between ancient charcoal black stone walls with trees and bushes on both sides - clearly designed to eliminate all breeze and to absorb as much solar radiation as possible. We got a few stretches of new pavement which were just baking. I stopped when we pulled off to the old cobble path that led up to the castle for a longer time.

Needing some sort of highlight for the day, I started riding the part they declared as hike a bike. Actually not that tough, but I burned a few matches for sure with exerting myself in the heat. At least we were on the shady side of the mountain.

The town is pure old-Europe impressive. Houses built right into giant granite rocks, steep narrow streets, little cafes. As I'm grinding up to the top, I see a fountain cut 6 feet back under the next switchback of the road. I drop my bike in a nano second and walk into the cool stone cave and dunk my head under the cold running water. There is no greater reason to ride a bicycle in Europe than for the magic of this experience. It's pure heaven.

I make a few turns through town and realize all the shops sell ice cream and finding potato chips is going to be hard. I cruise through the checkpoint, and barely brake for the "forewarned extreme technical descent". Only problem is that 20 mins later I notice my bottom water bottle is gone - it's held through every chattery descent so far...

And of course when I notice this it's because I reach down to chug some hot tapwater out of my bottle as the plains are again a white sand path inferno. I realize this isn't looking too good, so I slow my pace and keep moving, occasionally stopping under the few shade trees I can find. I've drank my two bottles and saved just a third, knowing it does more good in me, but I also don't want to be bone dry and start freaking out. Even still I have managed to keep cramping at bay.

People start passing with my reduced pace, and I tag onto a group of six. A friendly Brit whom I've been chatting to at dinner offers up half a bottle of water - I pour it from his to mine while riding on sandy double track without spilling a precious drop. He compliments me on pulling that off, I thank him profusely and drop off the pace to drink it and survive. I keep him in sight over the next few rollers, and 15 mins later when I'm still not at a checkstop I see water running across pavement far to the right, near a field. I scope around and find a fountain. It's like an oasis, I spend 15 mins there and still no other riders pass. One nozzle is broken so it mists into the air - sitting underneath it is so refreshing that I don't want to leave.

I eat about 2/3 of my remaining gel and realize there's no way I'm going to have enough fuel to make it in. Rolling out, I guess that I'd need a solid TT to make it in by cutoff time, and that's just not in the cards. A French guy catches up and tries to talk me into working with him, but I'm empty. We go through a 3 building villiage, one of which is a restaurant with a its roof built into a fountain/cooling system.

Without hesitation, in I go. Coke, chips, ham and cheese sandwich with lots of mustard. I love the processed mustard here - probably because I only eat it when pure salvation is needed, but for whatever reason I'm totally in need of tangy/spicy these days. Too bad they didn't have snails too.

The last 30k in weren't easy - there aren't free kilometers here. From the restaurant it was paved downhill into a big headwind, felt like a blowdryer was blowing in my face. I came around one turn and a giant tree branch was down across the road, looked like a fresh break, certainly hadn't been sitting there for a week. Later I confirmed that some late riders had seen it too but not the earlier ones... so it was windy enough to knock branches down.

On a long straight section through some fields we rode by an aquaduct, it was about 18" wide and after a few km of staring at it I figured I should lie down in it. Felt great, but I was dry after 10 mins of riding again.

I think I'm the last guy in today again, all the others coming in as late as me seem to be on the van from the last checkpoint. I came in about 45 mins past cutoff, which I think is close to another 8 hours out in the sun.

Didn't cramp, so I guess that's good. First bit felt good. I'm just waiting for a cooler day to make this more enjoyable... so far when the thermometer rises it just becomes a suffer fest to make it through the day. On top of that, I just noticed too that I didn't even get credit for making it to checkpoint 3 yesterday... not that it really matters, but it's hard to "throw away" those kilometers that were so arduous to complete.

My room mate said it accutely well in a forthright, Australian accent way - "I think I'm suffering from severe exhaustion".