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December 12 Monday Bicycle touring Spain from Pico Veleta in the Sierra Nevada Nice and quiet. Lots of stars again, even with the moon, optimistically speaking, half full. Our olive grove has been harvested -- a few olives still lie scattered on the ground, but I don't dare test them. Half-eaten pomegranates cling stodgily to a few trees in the grove that have been picked apart by hungry birds. Secure in our free and approved cycle touring camp spot, we decided to just lay around and relax. In the mid-afternoon, once we figured siesta should be over, we took a downhill four kilometre run into town to buy more groceries. We still arrived half an hour too early. Men were working on the road, putting in expansion spans on the bridges. I came flying down, saw workers waving their arms, saw the gap, slammed on my brakes quickly, realized there was now way I was going to stop in time, and jumped my bike across the eighteen-inch gap. Yikes, it's a long ways down there! The workers didn't look impressed. On the way back up, we saw the guy who said it was okay to stay in his olive grove. He waved us through the under-construction route. I told him "One more night." He smiled his toothless smile. I think he is the foreman. We continue cycling upwards. At the bridge and expansion gap, I stop and lift my bike over it. I have a really good look down to a drop far far below. Yikes. Another glorious sunset. The sun turns golden as it dips behind the mountains, then the clouds are lit from underneath in reds and oranges that are constantly changing. Too soon the clouds are pale once again having shed their glorious shimmering garments for another day. Sharon was just about to use the outdoor outhouse in the olive grove when we heard a sound from above. "Cuckoo, cuckoo." We looked up to watch a fellow on a hang-glider float over the olive trees and continue down down down into the valley far below. |
