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Day 7 - To Ruesga, Cantabria - 132 miles
Stats
Actual distance 136.6 miles
Moving Average 32.2 mph
Total Average 18.8 mph
Moving Time 4:14
Stopped Time 3:02
Total Time 7:16
Minimum Temperature 53.7°F
Maximum Temperature 65.4°F
Day 7
Day 7 profile
Day 7 temperatures
Totally rubbish weather as we got going at 11:10. This was supposed to be the grand finalé. I had prepared a challenging route for our final day. For Neil with his narrow, twitchy Brigestones it became a survival exercise, for the rest of us a cautious tiptoe on some very wet tarmac. I didn't bother setting up the video camera. Some interesting lessons were learned this day.
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First photo stop along the As114. |
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And the next along the N621. Just after this our route turned onto the Ca282. Navtech, who I believe provide the map database for Garmin consider this to be the main course of the road for the turn is unannounced when plotted. When we left this viewing point a mere 20 seconds later we should turn left onto the Ca282. Neil and I took an opportunity to go in front of a rare stream of traffic, and because I was keeping an eye on the map on my GPS (plus prior knowledge), made the turn. Immediately I stopped and waited for Daryl and Andy to catch up. Imagine my surprise when Daryl shot by the turning followed by Andy who was relying on Daryl's GPS skills to lead him along the correct route. I shouted on the radio for Andy to return to the bridge. He duly did. Of course I had no way of alerting Daryl since he had declined comms, freely offered at the start of our trip. So we waited for Daryl to realise his error and return also. |
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And we waited ....... and we waited......and we waited .....and we we waited
here on this bridge.
What had happened was that Daryl had set his GPS up (or possibly this was the default) to "recalculate automatically" (very unwise on a preplanned route). He also had "No U-turns" set. So his GPS was leading him to a point where his route could turn full circle without performing a U-turn. He was oblivious to the fact that there was nobody in front of him and nobody behind in spite of those wonderful mirrors on the Blackbird. Eventually, 25 minutes and 17 miles further on the light dawned. He stopped and phoned me. I was, of course, ecstatic that he had at last contacted me and reassured him in comforting tones of his route to rejoin us. A further 25 minutes later we were re-united with our friend. We were speechless with joy!!!! Well, I was speechless and it probably wasn't with joy. Next time Daryl will have comms. |
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Our schedule having been completely messed up we didn't stop for lunch. Sustenance was achieved with crisps and biscuits at this petrol stop. |
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Low cloud over our route. Neil was beginning to suffer for his choice of clothing having laughed at the rest of us all week. Less than 60 degrees and wet is not ideal for a Raptor jacket. He had also been tested by his rubber and by the geometry of the Tiger both of which were not as well suited to this route as the rest of us on good tyres and Sports Tourers. He also had to face down a steer in the middle of the road, which I got round just before it decided it wasn't going to let any more bikes though - an event which encouraged him to find reverse gear on the Tiger. We were not sure whether it was the bike with its "cow-horn" handlebars or just Neil's pheromones that provided the attraction. Eventually, however, the steer decided that it didn't fancy Neil and leapt the crash-barrier off the road. Neil was also getting cold and wet and fed up. When we were a mere 20 miles from our destination I reassured him that we would be there in 30 minutes. What I neglected to tell him (mainly because I didn't know myself) was that we just had to ascend and descend another 2,000 ft in zero visibility on a wet road with the best (or worst) hairpins we had so far experienced .... and he hadn't had any lunch. He was not happy by the time we arrived at our destination. |
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However, our lodgings made up for the endurance test. They were exceptional. The best of the trip. They didn't have a dungeon so I couldn't quite inflict what I had in mind for Daryl. I looked around for stocks too but they were obviously not a Spanish tradition. |
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The swimming pool .I only spotted later after I had mellowed |
Torre de Ruesga was a wonderful hotel. Our hostess spoke perfect English, the rooms were large and well furnished, the food was excellent (in spite of it being the chef's night off) and the wine list was extensive and interesting. Of the places in which we stayed during our trip this was the best. For value for money the best was Hotel rural Ca'l Xabú, but for comfort and atmosphere and style then Torre de Ruesga was the outright winner. What a pity the weather had not allowed the ride to be as much fun as I had wished.
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