Stick in the mud

October 21, 2018

A cyclocross extravaganza

The darkness persisted until 8:30. We were on our way shortly afterwards. Saying goodbye to the cabin wasn’t easy, especially given the dark clouds all around. Substantial rain was still a distinct possibility.

We retraced our way into Sevilla. We passed the Parque de María Louisa one last time, and followed little cycle tracks to the southern outskirts of town. We stopped for a second coffee before heading out into the great unknown roads of the Guadalquivir.

It began with a nice brick pattern. It turned to hard pack, and stayed that way just long enough for us to become complacent.

Suddenly, 120 kilograms of bike, rider, and gear sank hopelessly into the mud. The fenders filled with it. I dismounted and dragged the dirty mess against its will. Shoes be damned at this point. It was an all-out struggle for survival.

Maybe things would clear up shortly, but it sure didn’t look that way. It was time to bail. We both agreed. There was a road off to the left that would lead us to safety. Unfortunately it was also a mucky thicket of mud and rabbit droppings, and we had to negotiate two small wire fences, probably erected to discourage ATV riders. After reaching pavement, we ran our bikes through puddles until the fender mud stopped rubbing against the tires so much.

We spent a while on a very nice surface, but sure enough, it eventually deteriorated until we were back on dirt. Then mud again. The problem was worse this time. We could ride, but the tires weren’t willing. We tried prying out the mud with sticks, which helped, but eventually I resorted to removing the front wheel. We then scraped out the fender with small rocks. We felt like neanderthals! The mud was drying into an adobe superfender, far too thick for my fat tires. This was the only way to tackle it.

Finally we returned to hard pack, and then a pothole-laden asphalt. As lucky as we felt to have a solid surface at all, we tired of the constant weaving and finally said goodbye to the river and the rice fields.

We rode a straight line through cotton, bell peppers, and corn. People say that riding a long flat straight road is the worst, and you know, they ain’t very far from wrong. I think I was just too tired to enjoy it. That mud took a lot out of me.

As we approached Lebrija, curves and gently rolling hills added variety. I was developing a hot spot on my right foot, so I was eager to bring our ride to an end. Once in town, cobblestones add to our misery, but soon we reached a hotel. Sunyoung checked it out and returned with a big thumbs up. It’s a nice place. We earned it. We also found a place that serves dinner before 9:00. What a miracle.

Tomorrow is our last planned day of touring without the assistance of trains. It will be a short day, but with some decent hills. There is still more fun to be had, and I intend to write up until and including our last day in Spain.