November 6, 2024
In Roses: day 2
Like I’m sure along with many millions of other Americans, we woke up this morning in shock and feeling like this was the first day of the rest of our lives, but in the worst way. It will take awhile to absorb what all this means and how it will affect our own plans for the future, but for the moment nothing makes more sense than to carry on with what we already had planned for the day: scrambled eggs, pastries and coffee at the apartment, a hike for Rachael and a ride for myself, and then a lunch date before the expected afternoon rains arrive.
I had thought that I’d bike over to Cadaques and back today, but I just don’t have the heart for putting in that much work; and besides that I’ve got significant mechanical issues with the bike that make me think I don’t want to do anything too aggressive before getting it home for an overhaul. For one thing, one of my brakes is failing and resisting my efforts to improve it. For another, it’s hard for me to go anywhere faster than about 10 mph unless I’m freewheeling downhill. I’ve lost the use of my largest chainring, but also of the two or three smallest gears on the rear cluster unless I want to listen to some serious grinding as I bike along. Biking now reminds me of our first tour of Europe, when my derailleur broke 300 miles from Paris and I got the rest of the way by removing the derailleur and shortening the chain, riding it as a one speed the rest of the way. It’s why I appear to be pedaling so fast when you see me in videos lately.
So, not Cadaques. Instead I head back to Aiguamolls Naural Park for some more therapeutic bird watching.
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The first part of my ride is identical to yesterday’s: though Empuriabrava, across the Muga River on the wood-slatted pedestrian bridge, and then down to the entrance to the natural park by its visitor’s center. Today though I slip on the down ramp of the bridge, startling the couple just ahead of me walking their bikes up towards me. The wood is slick this morning from last night’s rain, something I’ll need to remember when I come this way with Rachael on our ride to Figueres. Well really need to walk across.
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According to RideWithGPS I can continue biking from the visitor’s center down to the water’s edge by the bay, but that’s not the case. This is all within the natural park and closed off to anything but foot traffic. No bikes, no scooters, no dogs, and in a first I even see a sign posted banning Segways, so maybe there was a problem with tour groups coming this way tearing up the trails and scaring the birds.
So I backtrack to the only nearby paved road and make my way to a camping/resort development that is also gated. Along the way I pass a few trails into the park and a few blinds overlooking the water, but to do any real birding I think I’d need to come back on foot and ideally carry a more powerful camera.
I do come away with a not particularly good shot (because he’s so far out) of a black bellied plover, a lifetime first. Best of all though is this small dark shape I see in the road maybe a hundred yards ahead. Zooming in I’m thrilled to see it’s a hoopoe, just sitting there in the middle of the road. For the next five minutes I inch closer and closer improving my shot as I go - close enough to see that he’s picking up seeds or nuts off the pavement with the tip of his long bill - I didn’t think to look and see how he gets it from the tip into his throat, but maybe he looks skyward and let gravity drop it in? Finally a car comes by and scares him off, but I suspect I was as close as he’d let me get anyway.
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4 weeks ago
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Happy to have gotten my hoopoe and new bird and at a dead end anyway, I turn back toward town following the same route as yesterday that takes me mostly along dirt tracks on the only bike-legal route across the park. I pass by the blind where I saw the flamingos yesterday and stop in again to see if there’s anything new, and there are. There are more flamingos this time and a grey heron and a little grebe, and also a trio of unfamiliar ducks swimming out among the flamingos that I’m thinking might be new for the year.
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I’m surprised when I leave the blind to see a pair of bikers standing there looking at my bike and waiting for me to come out. They’re lost, they don’t speak English, so it takes me a minute to understand that they’re trying to find their way back to the campground beside the Muga River at Empuriabrava - by the bridge I slipped on a few hours earlier.
I’m not surprised they’re lost, out here without a map or navigation device in a tunnel of twenty foot tall giant reeds. I’d have gotten lost too without having mapped the route out on my Garmin. They look pretty anxious and stressed, but they look relieved when I wave to them to just follow me as I lead them through a crooked maze of muddy tracks. Eventually we get back to pavement, they see where they are again, and soon leave me behind because they’re on e-bikes and I can’t go much faster than 10 mph because of my mechanical issues.
When I cross the bridge though I find them on the other side waiting for me for assistance again because they’re not sure how to find the center of Empuriabrava. This time though I’ve finally picked up their accent, which I thought was Slavic at first. Deutch, I ask? This brings a nod of agreement so I gesture the directions, tell them links und dan rechts, and they repeat it, smile, thank me and are off again.
I’m about six miles from the restaurant we agreed to meet at when I get a text from Rachael saying she’s close. I call her and she says she thinks she’s still two miles away so it sounds like we should arrive pretty close to the same time. I’m still nearly two miles away when a second text pops up saying she’s there and waiting - and she continues to wait at our table for the next ten minutes until she finally sees me down the street and waves at me. The whole time she’s been tracking me and wondering why I’ve been traveling so slowly but I’m pedaling as fast as I can.
While we wait for the salads and wine to arrive (and yes Frank, after this morning’s grim news I do think a drink or two is called for) Rachael pulls out the phone and we scroll through her photos from the fine hike she took along the bayside. And over lunch and on through the afternoon we start prying open the door about what to do with the rest of our lives, but that’s a story for a different day.
Today's ride: 25 miles (40 km)
Total: 4,660 miles (7,500 km)
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4 weeks ago
And how about that hoopoe, eh?
4 weeks ago
4 weeks ago
Frustrating I can’t work out how to put a photo of the cartoon on a comment
4 weeks ago
It’s horrifying for us, but I’m sure we’re not alone around the world in reacting that way. It’s impossible to see anything good coming out of the next few years, and we really wonder what it will mean for us personally. Our plans for this year are set, but who knows - we might be knocking on your door for a chat sometime next winter.
3 weeks ago