TransPortugal Day 5

Portugal: 4.  Erik: 1.

The Blues Brothers said it best in 1980...

Elwood: It's a 106 miles to Chicago, we got a full tank of gas, a half a pack of cigarettes, it's dark out and we're wearing sunglasses. 
Jake: Hit it.

I found the keys to my engine and fired it up.  No sputtering, just ignition.  I was an oxygen and fuel pump.  I hit it.  Side note is I'm fresher than the rest, but hey, I'll take a fun day when I can get it.

The morning started overcast and stayed that way.  Forecast was a high of 23C.  Right now it was probably mid teens.  Armwarmers and knee warmers were everywhere, but not on this guy.  Getting on my bike my behind hurt like there was no tomorrow - had protective bandages for the skin, but under my sit bones the skin that's normally like one inch thick is twice that, like I'm sitting on goose eggs.  I'm guessing there's some inner tissue issues going on there.  Great.  Two shorts, different saddle, and 100 miles of compression should do the trick.

The first 10km had something like technical.  I was effortlessly riding in the lead chase group on the climbs, and ditched them on the descent.  Some guy was talking about road bikes, but didn't make sense.  Another guy told me he was saying I was making it look like they were riding road bikes... big engines, but they ride absolutely terribly downhill.

I kept plugging along, finding new people to ride with.  Was seeing faces I hadn't seen all week.  Got into a group with a Brit and an American, then a train of Belgians and a Portugese caught us.

Two points of note.  If you're 3m ahead on a trail and make a wrong turn, the Belgians try to go as silently as they can on the right turn, none of this "dude trail's over here" kind of camraderie stuff.  They're cut throat, must be in the cycling culture there.  Secondly -  they blatantly litter, same as at TransRockies.  I've been smiling all day but chewed a group of them out, all black jerseys but couldn't tell which one did it.  Of course that's the point in time they decide that they don't know English, even though they can hold an hour long conversation.  I got looks of disdain.  Sometimes timing works out though...

Today was "the gauntlet" with like 15-20 jerry rigged farmer field gates we had to open and close all day.  Last night we went through full etiquette - open and close all or you're DQ'd.  First guy open, last guy close, group leaves together.  You can leave open if you can make eye contact with next rider.  First couple we went to, Belgians aren't exactly waiting after going through, one of the Portugese guys kept saying the keyword we were all supposed to remember at last night's briefing - "fairplay".  They didn't seem to care much, so after a few more I'd just yell "faster" and laugh.  Funny.  I don't care, I'm the guy who's dead last cause he can't ride a few days at a time, I'm just surprised at these guys when I get up close enough to see them.

Eventually I see the next gate across a field instead of hidden away.  5' high barbed wire both sides.  I sprint for it, chuck my bike over, and hop it.  They roll up and are f-d.  They give me dirty looks from the other side as I mount and ride away.  I don't see the harm in innovating (isn't cyclocross their sport?) so eat it!

I do that for next few gates to pick up 3-4 minutes and have a great few hours riding on my own.  I ride with a super strong French guy for a while, and when we go by a bull charges a barbed fence and knocks down a crappy little post.  I'm actually a bit worried, as half the time we're riding through fields of them without any fences between us.

We log miles like they're going out of style.  Fast, fun, easy.  Spin, spin, hammer.  Somewhere along the way at one of the gates 2 hornets bit me.  Ouch.

The same group caught me when I softpedalled into a headwind for a while and were hammering, so I jumped on and didn't work any harder, and went nearly twice as fast.  I can't wait to duke it out at the finish, my guess is 3 of them have stronger legs...

But, with 20km to go, my chain shifts into my spokes and I lose the group.  Nice... now I'm facing a TT to the finish on my own.  I'm game for that I guess, just need to remember not to use granny in back as my hangar is a little bent.

There's a few gates, so I pick up time there.  Part of the last 20km is mini cobbles.  Everyone suffered, but nobody seems to use UST at 25psi.  I coasted along like butter and caught a couple guys who blew when the lead group started attacking each other.

So I ended up 8th.

I think I need to find races where it starts at normal temps and rises 2-3C each day.  That whole heat/dehydration/salt bonk whatever it was thing is really, really unpleasant.  Maybe I'll get it right some day.

At least the people I've met here see I'm only a partial failure rather than a full failure since I can actually ride a bike (at least sometimes!).

We're in a totally cool age old hotel on a hillside farm, my room is probaly 600 square feet, has a 6' by 6' fireplace and a living room, and a pool outside.  The main room of this building has a domed brick roof in a room that's probably 5m across, ours is a log criss cross roof with tiles over it.  They just don't build 'em like that much anymore... Or maybe they do and I just don't see new Portugese construction.