DAY 3

Tuesday, July 10th 2012

Ripoll, Spain to La Molina, Spain (42 kilometers-ish)If Day 2 was hell, Day 3 was pure beauty. We woke up early again and started out in crisp, cool air. We had our super-sized yellow ponchos at the ready because the forecast called for rain but none ever came. We climbed another mountain, this climb was slow and steady and I think I must have been better adjusted to the altitude because it seemed easier than the day before. The scenery was absolutely magnificent–mountains covered in pine trees, dizzyingly breathtaking views. And the further we climbed, the more silent and peaceful it got, except for the occasional sound of a cow bell. The sun was out and warm but the mountain air was cool so together they were the perfect combination. Occasionally, other cyclists (professional-types, stick skinny and bent over their bikes like praying mantises) would pass us and shout out greetings, or a car would drive by, see our packs and our flags and give us a friendly honk. One guy leaned out of a van to take a picture of us. I was wearing what I call my superhero shirt. Its a skin-tight white long-sleeve compression thing that has SPF, pulls away the sweat and maintains your skin temperature. It was worth every penny cos it seems to do all that and also eliminates any worry about sunburning my arms. Also when we go down hill, it feels like we’re flying and in it I really do kind of feel like a superhero. There were jagged rock faces and waterfalls and one long winding road that we were riding on. Butterflies, birds, lizards, and occasionally a herd of cattle would wander by. I kept expecting to see Julie Andrews twirling on top of a mountain in a field of grass. I thought, “this is what I had hoped this trip would be: challenging but not too hard, and magically beautiful.” Gabriel and I barely talk when we ride, but when he’s behind me and we’re making a difficult climb, I can hear his regular, meditative, zen breathing. I admire him, because when I’m in a rough patch, I’m more the type to gasp and snort and swivel my head around at the scenery for distraction while my mind free-associates.

It was about 4 full hours of steady climb until we got to the top, the road leveled, and we sped the rest of the way to our hotel. This one had a “spa” which we headed to immediately. Most of the villages in these areas are ski destinations in the winter, so during the summer they’re pretty much empty. We had the “spa pool” to ourselves, which was this kind of bizarre gigantic pool that should have been jacuzzi-hot, but was really just kind of like a tepid swimming pool temperature. But it had all these water jets in odd places and you could swim to any side and push a button and a blast of water would come out and hit you somewhere on your body. The jets were so strong that they had these metal bars for you to hold onto because if you didn’t you’d get blasted across the pool. So we held onto the bars and gave ourselves super jet massages in our backs and butts and legs and it was kind of awesome. After that we had lunch (not good but edible) and hung out and watched the sunset over the mountains (we had to wait for the bar to open because even though its a giant hotel they seemed to have cut their staff down to about 3 people for the summer. So we kept having these Fawlty Towers moments where the same guy who worked at the front desk would have to run upstairs to make you your drink and then run back down to the desk, etc.) Anyway, we drank wine, watched the light change over the mountains, had dinner and crashed. Ready to be up the next day early again…