BRM 600 - Especial Galaico Asturiano#
Three weeks ago I finished my first 600 brevet ever. It was quite the experience, shared with a few members of Astorga Randonneurs and a couple other randonneurs I’ve ridden several other Brevets with.
This past weekend it was time to ride another 600 Brevet, this time with my friends from A Coruña.
Pre-brevet, this one has been as exciting as the first one. The numbers were quite similar on both Brevets, but I had the feeling this one was going to be a bit tougher, considering the kind of climbs we were going to deal with (shorter, steeper) and the lack of flat parts to recover (replaced instead with the usual saw of the asturian and galician roads, rompepiernas terrain).
There was another big change planned for this 600, which was adding a bit more of anxiety to it. We were going to do it without sleeping. Sounds crazy, right?. We discussed doing a short stop around km 350 (in the village of Vegadeo) and sleep 2-3 hours, but in the end we voted and sleepless won.
I must admit that I didn’t like the idea, at all. I considered it an unnecesary risk, dangerous, and I had serious doubts about how I’d perform on sunday, after being riding all day long on saturday and then all night long (spoiler alert: I was wrong).
Anyway, I prepared once again my now-famous bocadillo de jamón con tomate, split into 3 pieces.
And then packed up everything I’d carry with me. Spares, tools, clothes, food, sunscreen… pretty much the same things I had carry with me in the previous 600. This time I took a picture of everything before packing it into the bike bags.
The weather forecast promised some strong rain showers during the weekend, specially on sunday afternoon, so I decided to pack the waterproof shoe covers, as well as my water resistant arm and leg warmers, and the Rapha light wind/rain jacket.
This time, I split my things among the top tube, frame and saddle bags. Having my new apidura frame bag meant I could pack things more evenly, keeping things I won’t need often in my saddle bag which, btw, didn’t seem as full as in the previous 600.
Early friday evening I packed everything and drove for 1 hour to Bastiagueiro, the usual start point for Brevets in Coruña. As usual, I had a room booked in advance in a hotel nearby. This time I spent the night at the wonderful After Surf. A bit more expensive than other options in the area, but worth the money because their rooms are wonderful, the views are super-nice, their restaurant is very very good, and it is around the corner from the start point of the Brevets.
I wanted to go to bed as early as possible, so this time I brought my dinner with me, instead of going to their restaurant. A big bowl of pasta salad and then a banana and a big piece of chocolate cake for desert.
Soon, I was in bed, fast asleep.
I woke up 20 minutes before the alarm, had my usual feast of a breakfast before Brevets, gathered my things and went to the start point. I arrived in INEFG and this time there were no delays. In a few minutes I was ready and gathering my brevet card.
While getting ready, another guy came and asked me if I would have an extra pair of cycling shoes, as he had forgotten his back home. He wasn’t lucky and could not find any shoes… so he decided to do the Brevet wearing normal shoes. Right… 600km on normal shoes with clip-on pedals… what could go wrong?.
I took a moment to take a picture of the synapse before starting the Brevet, fully loaded and ready
We also took the usual group picture at the start. 17 randonneurs ready for another weekend of good time, cycling and suffering.
At 06:00 our adventure began. It was still dark, but we knew the sun was going to come out soon. We left A Coruña on (almost) the same road we took during the first Brevet of the year, the BRM 200 - Polas Terras Altas. All the group together, chatting and catching up. I spent quite some time telling my friends stories and impressions from my first 600.
Near Betanzos we left those nice secondary roads, to take the bigger N-VI on direction to Lugo. It was time to do the first climbs of the day. First Coirós and then A Costa do Sal. As usual, this was the moment the group split into smaller groups and pairs.
I went ahead with Alfonso, chatting a bit about my first 600 and then again about PBP details (I’ve asked him already soooo many questions…), but my group was just behind us, we didn’t drop/left them behind.
Note
I know there are no rules regarding the kind of bike you can bring to a Brevet. All it matters is that it is something you can ride and that it has the needed lights/visibility (and maybe that it conforms to the road regulations/laws of the country the brevet is taking place on).
In fact, one of the things people mention most often about PBP is all the kind of crazy bikes you can see there.
I’ve seen in the past people doing shorter (200) brevets in city bikes, mountain bikes and even I saw once a fat bike, but I had never ever saw something like this before:
That guy on the picture is the guy that was looking for a pair of road shoes earlier, before starting the Brevet. He had this road bike with a custom cockpit. Basically he added some extensions to the steering tube, raising the position of the handlebars a lot.
All of it looked weird, the bike, his position on it and the way he was pedaling (very upright).
We did the second climb, A Costa do Sal, together and then we gather some speed on the rollercoaster towards Guitiriz. A town I know well, as I’ve some family living there, we crossed it fast. No time to loose this early in the day.
We kept riding on the N-VI for a while longer, leaving Guitiriz towards Baamonde and then Begonte, where I knew my parents would be waiting for us by the road, with my daughters, to say hello. Before leaving Guitiriz I sent them a message, telling them we were there so they could organize themselves. I also sent them my live location on Whatsapp.
We were going fast in this stretch, on good tarmac and mostly going down with short flat parts. We were almost in Baamonde and I was telling my friend Dani, while we were leading the pack, that I was going to stop for a moment in Begonte with my family… when I did hear it.
A strange crashing noise, someone shouting… I looked over my shoulder just in time to see one of the bikes on the back of the group falling, its front wheel turning right like a scythe, cutting through everything on its way, including the front wheel of our friend Alex.
Alex couldn’t do anything about it, his bike tripped off and he was sent flying head-first to the ground, smashing his head and helmet hard against it.
And he did stay there, on the ground, completely frozen.
Panic. I shouted everybody to stop and then “Call emergencies, NOW!”, but Dani had already his phone out, calling 112.
I parked my bike against one of those metal rails/barrriers/protections on the side of the road and hurried towards Alex. Someone was already crouched by his side - I can’t remember who exactly - talking to him. No response. “Fuck, fuck, fuck…”.
We didn’t want to move him, too risky, too dangerous. Suddendly some blood started to appear from below his head, on the tarmac. More panic.
Then I saw a car coming on our direction. Alex was partially laying on the lane, so I quickly went on direction to the car, waving my arms and trying to get the car to slow down. It worked.
Meanwhile Alex woke up, clearly disoriented, and tried to actually got himself up. We didn’t let him. We started to ask him questions - “Do you remember your name?”, “Do you know where are you?”. At first he didn’t answer, he simply looked at us with a wondering look in his eyes. After a few minutes, he started answering and he even made a joke about his name. That was a big relief.
I called my father, explained everything, and asked him to bring the car and pick up Alex’s bike (as he could not get it with him to the hospital). Then, Manolo and me took a moment to look at the bike. All seemed ok, chain out of place, that was all. We put it back into place and tried the shifters, all working ok. We took a quick look but nothing seemed broken or severely scratched.
Alex face, on the right side, started to look really bad. It was getting swollen and some parts looked quite damaged. We kept asking him questions and we asked him to please remain there, laying, while we waited for the ambulance to arrive.
The ambulance arrived a few minutes later, it was quite fast. Nice surprise, the two guys in the ambulance were people I knew. One being a cousin of my mother, the other being a cyclist I knew for a long time now, founder member of the cycling club I’m member of. Second relief moment, alex was going to be in good hands.
While they were taking care of Alex, my father arrived. We talked for a moment and he told me they were already waiting for us by the road, in Begonte, when I called him. At that very moment I realized we still had a long 600 Brevet to do. Honestly, right then and there, it felt like an impossible thing to do. I was completely shaken, seeing the crash in my mind over and over again.
Finally the Ambulance left for the hospital and we forced ourselves to resume riding.
Note
What happened exactly?, What caused the crash?
I’m not going to point fingers. In the end, all I saw with my own eyes was a bike falling and, in the process, hitting Alex’s front wheel, sending him to the ground.
Some time later, after talking about it among the people that was in the group, it seems that the guy with the weird bike went to pick up one of his bottles and, while doing so, one of his feet slip off the pedal. And he lost balance and fell.
His was the bike I saw falling, hitting Alex, sending him to the ground.
Accidents like this, crashes like this, they happen. When you ride your bike in a group, you are aware these things can happen to anybody. But, IMHO, this accident could have been avoided.
I think riding a road bike with clip-in pedals on normal shoes is very irresponsible, specially if you are riding in a group and you are going fast.
We remained silent for a while. Quite a while. My father passed us on his car, Alex’s bike in the trunk, visible from behind.
Arriving in Begonte, the village where I spent my summer vacation when I was a kid, I saw my daughters by the side of the road, waiting to see their daddy passing by on the bike. I stopped there to say hello (and get some loving hugs) while the others kept on riding. I did stay with them for a few minutes, before resuming riding myself.
The first control point wasn’t far from Begonte, so even if I couldn’t catch my group before it, I knew I was going to join them there. But I wanted to hunt them down, so I pushed myself a bit, trying to keep my brain focused more on the pedals, less on everything else.
Soon I passed a couple of riders, the one with the weird bike and another guy riding a gravel bike. Then I catched a small group of randonneurs from the Riazor Cycling Club, the club organizing the Brevet. Emilio, Fran and Alfonso. I decided to slow down and join them, and chat a bit with Emilio, a veteran randonneur with whom I’ve ridden a few of my first Brevets a few years ago. He is always good company and this time I took the opportunity to ask him about his latest adventure, doing El Camino de Santiago from France on his Surly steel road bike.
We arrived in Outeiro de Rei, km 85 and first control point, at 10:03. This was 30-40 minutes later than expected and in a mood considerable worse than expected. The fact that we didn’t find any place to have some coffee (at least not without doing a detour) didn’t help. When I arrived with Emilio, Fran and Alfonso, the others were stopped near a 24h pharmacy.
Manolo went in and asked if they could stamp our cards. They could, but wearing a mask was required in order to go inside. They gave Manolo one mask, so we gave him all our Brevet cards and he got the stamps for us. Meanwhile, I removed my arm warmers and packed the gillet into the frame bag. Then I checked my phone and I sent Alex a few messages, in hope he would be ok enough to reply.
Off we went, towards the next control point at A Pastoriza. We were riding on the part of Galicia know as A Terra Cha (literally translated, The Flat Land). For the next 40-50 km we rolled fast on flat roads.
We passed through Castro Riberas de Lea, where some decided to do that late-breakfast stop. The mesoiros, Cesar and me decided to push it a bit more and do the coffee stop in A Pastoriza. Two more people were with us, one being the guy with the weird bike. We did a quick stop to get some water though, and I checked again my phone, still no news.
Maybe I was being childish at that time, but I wasn’t happy at all having that guy with the weird bike around. I felt anxious, alert, and I didn’t trust him. I tried to keep myself separated from him as much as possible, keeping him always behind me.
Turned out I wasn’t the only one feeling like that and soon some others shared the same concern.
It was a pity the situation was like that, as the roads after Castro Riberas de Lea where fast and beautiful. The kind of small rural one-lane-only roads with perfect tarmac where you roll fast. Those roads are fun to ride and the scenery around with green fields, pastures, livestock and farms is lovely.
Dani started to talk with Cesar, another veteran randonneur, about PBP. Cesar had done PBP four times already and he had lots of stories to share, as well as recommendations, suggestions, etc. It was good distraction, helping switching our focus for a while.
We arrived in A Pastoriza, second control point at km 121, at 11:54. My body was craving for some coffee. First we did a short stop in front of the square where the village city council building was, to take a group picture.
Lots of people were gathering at the square, before going into the building. We have had local elections a couple of weeks ago, and it seems today was the day the new local government was “taking over” here. One woman asked us if we would like to join them, as it was going to be “an entertaining/fun session this morning”.
We declined, of course, and went on looking for a cafe. We found one just crossing the street, but as soon as we got inside, I noticed the old guy behind the counter didn’t like the idea of working too much this morning.
No coffee, I ordered a coke and picked up the first piece of my bocadillo de jamón.
We tried to keep the stop as short as possible. I did a quick visit to the bathroom and wolfed down fast both the bocadillo and the coke (spoiler alert: this was a very bad mistake). I also sent some messages both to alex and my family, sending them each other’s phone numbers, so they can get in touch, in case Alex may need anything while being in the hospital.
I picked up my bike and took one last glance at the phone and I noticed I had some audio messages from Alex! I called everybody and played them. He was fine, they made several tests, scans, etc on him and they found no broken bones, no severe internal damage. Of course he was going to need time to heal and recover, it was a big crash after all, but these were good news indeed.
It was like if a new Brevet started right there. Everybody’s mood improved a lot. It was a mixture of being happy, relieve and grateful at the same time.
We left A Pastoriza still on nice secondary roads, passing more farms and fields with lots of livestock on them.
We crossed several smaller villages, O Teixeiro, As Rodrigas or Riotorto, which is famous for its blacksmiths and their iron craftmanship.
Temperatures were already around 28ºC, luckily there were a few clouds here and there, protecting us from the sun at intervals.
Soon we were in A Pontenova, which was an important mining town from the XVIII century to the XX century. Proof of that past are the big chimneys that remain in one of the now main squares of the town. In that square there is a nice fountain, so we did a short stop there to refill our bottles.
This town was also the start of the hardest part of the day. From there we were going to climb the Alto da Garganta, first from A Pontenova, Taramundi and Bres (riiight, missing a “t” at the end!) and then from Santa Eulalia de Oscos and Villanueva de Oscos.
I already rode on part of these roads earlier this year, while riding the BNO 200 - Montañas, Mar e Navallas with Dani in march. Riding on them again today brought back some good memories from that day to both of us.
We started the climb towards Taramundi on an easy pace. With our mood definetely recovered and our group established (César, the mesoiros and me at that moment) we tried to enjoy that part as much as possible.
It was tough, specially because the temperature kept raising, but it was also sooo beautiful. We passed through some woods and then we had some gorgeous views to our right, of the valley we were leaving below.
It took us half an hour to get from A Pontenova to Taramundi. It was 13:25 when we entered this Asturian town, well known for the quality of their hand-made knives. Our mood was definetely better at this point. Personally I was having a good time.
It was a bit early for lunch. We considered doing a stop to eat something there (later we found out that most of the others had lunch there) but we decided to push it a bit and do the first serious climb before having lunch.
And so we passed by Taramundi and kept on riding, passing Bres and taking the road to our right and into the more serious part of the climb, to Alto da Garganta.
It took us almost an hour to climb the next 12 km, enjoying the open views of the valleys below to our left, as well as the long stretches at 9-10% gradient.
As we were going up, temperature started to drop and darker clouds started to cover the sky. It was perfect, as the near-30-degrees temperature we have had before Taramundi would be a bit too much for me on the climb.
I tried to keep hydrated, alternating sips of water with sips of a mixed drink of salts, carbs and electrolytes. I also tried to force myself to eat regularly, having small pieces of different bars.
Note
The last 3-4 km of this climb was on the road Dani and me took down to Vegadeo a few months ago (on the unnoficial Brevet BNO 200 - Montañas, Mar e Navallas) as well as the long descent into Santa Eulalia, which we do on the opposite direction then, climbing all the way up from Santa Eulalia.
One hour after we left Taramundi, we arrived at the roundabout at the top of the climb. Then we still went a bit more up to the point where the sign of Alto da Garganta is, before taking the long, fast, descent (10 km) to Santa Eulalia de Oscos.
During the descent, I confirmed that my stomach was a bit upset. Since we left A Pastoriza earlier I felt a bit weird down there, but I tried to keep myself focused on the ride, not worrying too much about it. But when we were maybe a couple of km before Santa Eulalia, something exploded in there and I felt I needed to go to a toilet urgently.
I arrived first in Santa Eulalia, followed by Oscar and Jose, but there was no trace of Dani and Cesar. We did stop for a moment at the entrance of the village and waited a bit. Santa Eulalia was the next control point of the Brevet, km 178, it was 14:55 when we arrived there.
I was feeling like a big balloon about to explode, but I was sure I could not simply let go of the gas… and we were still waiting for the others :-(
I told Oscar and Jose that I needed a bathroom urgently, and when I was about to leave them there waiting and search for options, we saw Cesar. He arrived and told us that Dani stopped for a moment in a fountain maybe 1 km behind, but he was on his way already.
A few minutes later Dani arrived too and we looked for a place to have lunch. We found a restaurant on our way through the village. A couple of cyclists were arriving there too, from a different road than us. We did stop, greeted them and then asked if they know Santa Eulalia and if they could recommend us a place for eating something. They both suggested precisely that restaurant, Casa Diego.
We parked our bikes and I hurried up inside, to the Toilet (spoiler alert: this was only the beginning of a series of gastric problems through the weekend that made me suffer a bit more than expected).
When I finally came out, Dani told me a couple of “bad” news. First, the restaurant was full, with a family doing some event there, which meant food availability was a bit limited and that cooking stuff would take some time. Second, they didn’t have a stamp to put on our brevet cards.
Even so, we decided to stay. They prepared a couple of tables outside and we sat to enjoy some coca colas and a few raciones (tortilla, croquetas, calamares, whatever they say would take less to cook).
While the food was being cooked, I walked to a nearby hotel (Casa Pedro los Oscos) and got our Brevet cards stamped.
When I got back to Casa Diego, the guys were talking with those 2 cyclists that recommended us that place for lunch. They were doing a tough and nice route in the area, and when we told them about the Brevet (route, distance, etc) they were impressed. One of them looked really interested in the whole Brevet idea (who knows, maybe we will meet him next season?)
Finally our lunch was served and we wolfed it down quick. We were hungry, and thirsty. The clouds were gone then and temperature was back to 29ºC. Luckily we were seating under the shade of the building and a fresh breeze was passing by us to cool things down.
Bellies full, one more visit to the toilet, bottles refilled and off we went, towards the next control point, Villanueva de Oscos.
We had a 22 km climb waiting for us as we left Santa Eulalia, with a stop in Villanueva a few km into the climb. In Santa Eulalia we decided to not have desert and/or coffee, and have that in Villanueva, as we would have to stop there and stamp our Brevet cards anyway.
At 16:40, 40 minutes after we left Santa Eulalia, we arrived in the next control point, Villanueva de Oscos, km 187. We found a nice café+hotel+shop by the road and we stop there to get our cards stamped and some coffee. We parked the bikes and took some seats outside. I went inside to get the brevet cards stamped.
I was talking to someone while coming in, when I heard “Well, well, well, look who is here! what a nice surprise!!”, I turned and, what a surprise indeed, my friend Estefanía was there!. She is one of the members of my group in the Brevets organized in Astorga, and she was in Villanueva to participate in a couple of races during the weekend. What a coincidence.
She asked me if I was doing another Brevet and I told her about the 600 (We did the previous 600 together). She told me about her racing plans for the weekend and that she was really looking forward doing the next Brevet.
She insisted on paying coffee for all of us (thanks Any!).
While we were stopped there, several other randonneurs arrived, like Alfonso, Manolo and Ferreiro. The time we gained while they were having lunch in Taramundi was spent in our 2 stops in Santa Eulalia and here, in Villanueva. When we left, Manolo and Ferreiro joined our group (and we remained together for the rest of the Brevet).
More climbing ahead, starting with a very steep section on our way out of the village. Lots of “mmmffff” and “ufffffmmm” and cursing until the road flattened a bit.
During the stop, the guys that did the climb to La Garganta after having lunch, told us that they had thick banks of fog on their way up. It seemed we missed the fog by doing the climb before lunch (good!). Thing is, we were going up there from another different side now.
We expected fog, and fog we had. Going up to the roundabout at the top of A Garganta it got thicker and thicker, slowly at first, then making things difficult to see around us and, what was more dangerous, ahead of us. We were literally riding through the clouds.
I started to struggle.
The road was narrow and the fog so thick we weren’t able to see clearly where its sides were. As you probably know already, I’m nearsighted and I wear prescription glasses (without them, I see objects/things far from me “blurry”) and I do wear them even when cycling (can’t stand contact lenses). This means I’ve to wear my glasses at all times on the bike.
With all that fog, the outer part of my glasses started to get more and more wet. I was riding without gloves (too hot) so cleaning them wasn’t an option. At one point, I decided to put my gloves on, at least that way I would be able to use them to remove the water from the glasses. Oscar captured it on camera.
In situations like this, I use the softer part of the gloves from their palm/inner side, which works quite well to remove water from the glasses, kind of a manual wiper washer.
We kept on like this, passing the roundabout at the top of A Garganta and taking the road that passed by Serra da Bobia. We still had a few more km of climbing ahead of us, but at least we left the fog behind and the clouds below us…
But it was all an illusion, a mirage. Soon we were surrounded by thick fog again, riding through dense clouds. This time, things were even more dangerous, as the road was narrower, with sharp turns… and we were descending!
I tried to keep up with them, but they were going too fast for me, given the circumstances. If riding fast down on that snake of a road, through the clouds, wasn’t hard enough, wiping the water from my glasses was useless. The second after wiping them, they were totally foggy and watery, making it even harder to see the road.
I kept like that for a while, moving very slowly, until I realized I couldn’t see anybody else. Then I saw a tail light, Cesar, who was going down as slowly as me. I told him about my trouble with the glasses, he told me we should be very careful on this road with this fog, as in these hills there were wild horses, foals and probably cows wandering around.
We kept riding together for a while, but I was going slower and slower because I wasn’t able to see the road clearly. I got so fed up about the whole thing that at one point I decided to remove the glasses completely.
I packed them into one of the pockets on my back and kept on. Big surprise, it turned out I was able to ride the bike without the glasses!. Ok, I must admit I was very lucky the road was in perfect conditions. One pot hole and I would smash the bike against it without any doubt (no chance I’d be able to see it in time without the glasses).
Thing improved a bit and I was able to go a bit faster… until I noticed something moving across the road a few meters in front of me. A group of horses was in the middle of the road!. Foals and huge horses, some at both sides of the road, some in the middle, some more crossing it.
I slowed down and waved one hand slowly so Cesar, who was coming a bit behind me, could see it and slow down.
We passed through the group of horses, really close to a few of them, while some of them looked at us passing by. Magic Brevet Moment right there. The whole thing with the thick fog, the huge horses… something that will stay in the back of my mind forever.
After a while riding without the glasses I gained a lot of confidence, so I went back to my normal speed. I kept an eye Cesar (as much as I could, without the glasses) as I didn’t want to drop him. Finally, we catched the others, just before arriving at the top of Alto de Penouta.
We regrouped there, sharing a few experiences we just had on that difficult part of the ride. Some took a moment to eat something, some (like me) decided to put on some more clothes. We had a long descent ahead (near 30 km) all the way to the town of Navia, on the Cantabric coast, and temperature had dropped down to 15ºC.
The descent was fast. We still have some nice views of the valleys to our right and soon we were able to see the Cantabric sea. The clouds we have literally passed through a while before were now above our heads, but the road we were riding on was wet, looking as if those thick clouds had been there just a moment ago.
During that fast, long descent, we lost Cesar. We slowed down a bit for a while, in hopes he would catch us before getting to Navia, but he didn’t.
It was early evening when we arrived in Navia and we crossed the big bridge over the river that gives the name to the town, the Navia, taking then the road east, towards Luarca.
We did a short stop at a gas station in Navia, to refill our bottles and eat something quick. We still had around 37 km to the next control point, which was going to be in a lighthouse, without many options nearby for having dinner. So, conversation started about when and where should we stop for have proper dinner, considering we were going to keep on riding all night long.
We all agreed to keep on riding to Luarca (next bigger town before the control point, 20 km away) and reconsider things there.
Riding along the Cantabric coast, on the usual roller-coaster road, soon we were in Luarca, one of those beautiful coastal towns/villages you can find in Asturias, with its old squares and buildings and its beautiful small fishing port.
We didn’t stop there though, as we wanted to arrive in the next control point at the lighthouse in Cabo Busto with daylight. We pushed on and in less than 45 minutes we had covered the 16 km to the lighthouse.
On our way to the lighthouse, we passed by a big restaurant that was just by the road and we stopped for a moment to reserve a table for dinner. The idea was to stop on our way back from the control point, have a full dinner and get ready for the night.
From the restaurant to the control point in the lighthouse the road was sooo beautiful and quiet. Smaller road that twisted itself towards the sea, with a last couple of km of an almost straight line to the lighthouse.
We crossed the small village of Bustos, which is famous because of its cake/sweets shop pastelería cabo busto (take a look at their website and you will see why it is famous, then come and visit it, and you will understand why ;-D).
Without a way to get our cards stamped at the lighthouse, we took a few proof pictures. Arriving earlier, I would have proposed to get a stamp at the cake shop, but at 21:15 it was too late for that.
After enjoying the scenery around and the views for a moment, we took the road back to the main road, through the village of Bustos again. The others left, but it took a moment for Dani to be ready. I waited with him and we resumed riding together, talking for a while about how the Brevet has been going so far.
Almost half Brevet done, still another half to do, including a full night of cycling.
On our way back, we did stop at the restaurant to have dinner. They let us park the bikes on a covered terrace, near the entrance, and we went inside to seat at a big table. It felt good to seat there for a while.
We opted for the house menu (starter, main dish, drink, desert and coffee) as usually that’s a good option if you want a full meal without having to wait too long for it to be cooked/ready (usually they are dishes they have already cooked and only need some warming).
One hour and a half later, we left the restaurant. The dinner stop was reinvigorating. Having some proper food helped a lot, but even better was to sit at the table with these guys, chatting, making jokes, sharing experiences.
During dinner we make lots of jokes about sleeping a few hours that night. Everybody agreed to ride through the night, but making a few jokes wouldn’t hurt. The first joke was that the restaurant has a sign offering rooms, but the look of the building wasn’t really inviting to do so. We kept doing jokes until dawn, every time we passed by some road hotel or hostel, or the hotels in bigger towns.
It was night when we resumed riding, and half a km after leaving the restaurant we were riding in complete darkness (no street lamps, no big moon to light our way, nothing). Soon we hit the 300 km mark.
We went back along the coast, on the same road we had been earlier that evening. We crossed Navia again, crossing the bridge over the Navia river, but this time keeping ourselves on the coastal road, instead of the road from the mountains we had came from earlier today.
This road by the coast, full of small vacation villages and kind-of resorts for tourists, had lots of street lamps, which meant lots of light, which meant being able to run our head lights in less-powerful modes (hence, saving some battery life).
To be honest, riding that night was a much better experience than expected. I was expecting to feel tired, dizzy and sleepy, but instead I was quite awake and I didn’t feel tired or like if I was dragging along.
And then, my stomach turned upside-down again.
It started like a balloon getting filled up again, just like it happened before Santa Eulalia de Oscos a few hours before, and as it happened back then, soon I realized I couldn’t simply let go of the gas. I needed to go to the toilet.
Now try to find anything open, past-midnight, on these roads. Mission: Impossible. All we could found were small villages where everything was closed, road side cafés: closed, gas stations: closed.
There was a time when gas stations used to be open until late in the night, with some of them open even 24 hours. A few years ago that changed, and gas stations are now open only up to 23:00, with a few exceptions (like that wonderful place in Lalin where we stopped both at the BRM 400 - Polas Catro Provincias and the BRM 600 - Santiago) and the gas stations located in the highways, those are usually open 24-hours.
I kept on riding, keeping an eye on any possibility of a toilet I could find. At one point, I told the others about my needs. We looked for options near the bigger villages, but without any luck.
“There is a gas station that seems to be open” - Shouted Oscar, just before the turn to the village of Tapia de Casariego. A quick look from afar and we weren’t 100% sure it may be open, but I decided to give it a try. I went there and it was one of those self-service gas stations. There as a bathroom, but locked, available only by day. “Dammit” - I thought, while unzipping the left side of the frame bag and picking up a pack of paper handkerchiefs, I was going to need them soon. And off I went to look for a nature toilet spot.
The mesoiros had waited for me, while Manolo and Ferreiro kept on riding. We resumed riding, but I wasn’t feeling good. Something was definetely wrong down there and it didn’t feel like it was recovering.
We passed Tapia, then Serantes and then we kept on riding on the old coastal road towards Vegadeo, the next control point, instead of crossing the big bridge over the Eo bay.
Soon we catched Manolo and Ferreiro again. This part of the road was darker, there were fewer street lamps near the villages, and no lights at all between them. Soon I started to feel like I’d need another toilet stop. It was bothering me so much, I didn’t really enjoyed this part of the ride. All I could do was to focus on not lettting go.
We arrived in Vegadeo, control point at km 332, at 01:57. Obviously there was nothing open (even if I’ve had hope of finding a pub or night club open at that time on a saturday night…). We took some proof pictures in the main square, near the iconic cows sculpture (those letters behind us… they used to say “VEGADEO”, but some where missing that night!).
I had to look for another nature toilet spot. Meanwhile they waited for me by a set of self-service machines that offered almost everything (chocolates, salty treats, all kind of drinks…).
I grabbed myself a couple of Aquarius (lemon flavored) and some chocolates, hoping both may help a bit with my current situation. I filled one of my bottles with aquarius, drinking there whatever was left after filling the bottle, and ate one of the chocolates. At least I wasn’t feeling weak or tired, the main problem was that those “explosions” in my bowels happened unexpectedly, and when they happened… well, I had to stop.
Psychologically, I started to get worried about causing trouble to the others, making them stop without need, making them slower. So I did all I could do in a situation like this. I told them to just keep on if I had to stop again. No need to stop with me every time. Of course, they nicely told me to STFU and keep going, they weren’t going to drop me.
Half an hour after our arrival, we resumed our ride, crossed the Eo river and went into Galicia. The Eo river is like a natural border between Galicia and Asturias at its mouth, where it joins the Cantabric sea. There are two towns there, one on each side of the river. One is Vegadeo, east riverbank in Asturias, the other is Ribadeo, west riverbank in Galicia. Both towns names mention the river (eo) and have a word meaning “riverbank”, “vega” in Asturias and “riba” in Galicia.
We were going towards some places I know quite well. A Mariña Lucense, the coast of the province of Lugo, where I spent a few summers with my parents while I was a teenager (and then by myself a few years later). Such a beautiful coast, full of tall hills, sharp cliffs, beautiful beaches and small fishing villages.
Thing was, we were riding there on a very dark night, so we missed all that. That is one of the drawbacks of riding through the night, you miss all the nice views, the daily life in small villages… You can’t have it all, I guess.
All the way to Ribadeo we were riding on a small road that was really close to the river. Then we crossed the big town of Ribadeo (where I asked them “Are you sure you don’t want to stop and sleep for a bit on a comfy bed?” when we passed a nice, big, 24-hour-open hotel ;-D) and took the main road that went parallel to the coast.
The next stretch of 35-37km was fast. With a couple more serious bumps on the road, but overall almost flat with some gentle, short, repechos.
We were passing village after village, chatting, enjoying the night, when suddendly Dani shouted loudly - “CUIDADO! CUIDADO!!” - and then the rest of us saw the big wild boar in front of us, crossing the road from left (the hills) to right (the beaches and the sea). We were lucky that Dani did spot it in time, specially Jose, who was riding a bit ahead of us, rolling faster.
After the boar crossed the road, it left us wondering “where the h*** is that boar going?” - “Maybe for a night swim?” - I said, and we all laughed at the idea.
San Miguel de Reinante, San Pedro de Benquerencia, San Cosme de Barreiros… All the villages before the next bigger town (Foz) had the name of a saint on their own names. We passed through them all and we reached the crossing over the Masma river. As it happened with the Eo, we crossed the river where it joins the Cantabric sea.
On the other side we had one of those a bit more serious bumps. Nothing really hard, but enough to slow us down a bit. Someone (IIRC Ferreiro) was a bit behind, so we used this little climb to take it easy and wait a bit for him. With day light, we would have enjoyed the nice views on our right, the bay of Foz. Instead, we enjoyed the views to our left, another couple of wild boars going the opposite direction from us, all the way down the repecho.
We passed by Foz (without entering town), Fazouro, Nois, Cangas de foz… again crossing village after village in the quiet of the night. No cars, nobody on the street. We were approaching Burela, the next bigger town on our way, when another little explosion shaked my bowels.
With Burela being a bigger town, I was expecting something to be open at that time of the night (around 4:00). Instead of that, what we found were several pairs and groups of drunken people on the streets. It seemed the saturday night parties were all over.
When we entered the main street into town, it started to rain. Lightly at first, a few drops here and there, by the time we left that main street towards a smaller road by the coast it was raining with more intensity.
The next control point, in the village of San Cibrao, was just 14 km away. It was really close, so we pushed through the rain, deciding to not stop to put our rain jackets and gear on. It was a big mistake. Suddendly the rain was really strong, summer storm rain, lots of thick drops falling on us There were no street lamps on this smaller road by the coast, so soon things started to be quite interesting…
It was raining more and more, stronger every minute, but at that moment all we could do was to push and try to arrive as soon as possible in San Cibrao and look for some shelter there.
It was 04:46 when we finally entered town. We knew finding something open (like a bar, cafe or gas station) was practically impossible, so we just looked for something with a roof, where we could shelter from the rain.
We spot a few places, but in the end we decided to stop in a big bus stop. There was some good sheltered places for the bikes, plus big long benches for us. Just as we stopped and parked the bikes, another explosion took place you-already-know-where, and I had to rush and look for another nature toilet spot. Right, under the heavy rain…
Back with the guys, we tried to get as comfy as possible. It seemed like we were going to be there for a while. We checked several weather apps on our phones and none of them showed any promising forecasts. We removed the wet outer layers, as well as helmets, gloves, etc. Some changed socks and base layers. Personally I put my arm and leg warmers on, as well as the waterproof shoe covers and the rain jacket. It wasn’t that cold, but I knew being there and stopped, I was going to get cold fast.
We took the opportunity to eat something. There it went the second piece of my bocadillo de jamón. Even with all my gastric problems, I forced myself to eat. If not all I should have, at least keep on eating regularly.
We did chat for a while, considering which options we had. It didn’t seem like it was going to stop anytime soon. It wasn’t really cold, but it wasn’t warm either. We considered looking for one of those banks that have ATM machines inside, in closed rooms (as there we would be warmer). Dani and Ferreiro took the chance to doze for a while. I tried to do the same, but I wasn’t so lucky. I guess I was too excited about the whole 600-without-sleep adventure.
At one point, Ferreiro tried to get us back on the road, but it was still raining too much. We discussed it for a while and in the end he decided to resume riding alone. The rest of us decided to stay until rain slowed down a bit or dawm arrived, whatever happened first.
A bit later, while still waiting, Manolo got a phone call. It was Ferreiro, he found a bar opened a few km later, back on the main coastal road!. We didn’t hesitate, packed everything and got back on the road, under the rain. Lucky bastards… on our way out of San Cibrao it stopped raining ;-)
We had been there, sheltered by that bus stop, for one hour and a half.
Less than 15 minutes later, we arrived at that roadside bar, left our bikes under a small canopy outside and hurried up inside. The guy there didn’t have much food to offer, but the warm drinks were more important that food at that moment. I didn’t want to risk it by drinking milk, so instead of coffee I ordered some red tea and went straight to the bathroom (finally… a fscking toilet!!).
I removed my wet, damp, filthy clothes and washed myself as much as I could. They I tried to dry up a bit using some drying paper and, finally, I put some dry clothes on. I packed the wet clothes into the ziploc bags.
The dry clothes and the hot tea felt wonderful. Still, when I tried to eat something, my body simply refused to. I forced myself to eat my last oats+hazelnuts+raisins bar and ordered a big muffin, which I put in the top tube bag before leaving the bar. I also ordered a couple of cans of Aquarius, to put into one of the bottles, refilling the other one with water.
45 minutes later, we left the bar, again under the rain.
Thing is, we didn’t expect rain that early on Sunday. We expected the rain to appear some time after noon, light rain at first and then a few summer storm showers. But this wasn’t light, and it was no summer shower neither.
We had constant strong rain for a good part of the rest of the morning.
Nothing we do about it, so we do what we were supposed to do. Keep on pushing the pedals. We left again the main coastal road, taking another smaller road towards the next control point, Faro de Punta Roncadoira at km 427. We were tired, wet and without sleep, but this little road was so nice that we enjoyed it a lot (or at least, I did).
The thing with the roads that go to these lighthouses in the Galician coast is, they are usually tough. They used to build the lighthouses in parts of the coast that are higher, way above everything else, so they could be easily spotted/view from the sea. This, for cyclists, translates into “short steep ramps with double-digit gradients”. It was time to stand on the pedals and move slooooowly.
The other thing with such roads is, once you get to a point high enough, they are very rewarding, with breath-taking views of the sea, the cliffs and the lighthouses themselves.
This last stretch to the lighthouse confirmed something I’ve had in my mind for some time now. My gastric problems appeared every time I had to step down the bike. All the time I spent on the bike, pedaling, I was ok. As soon as we had to stop… BAM, explosion.
So, when we were a couple of km from the lighthouse and Oscar said - “Shit! guys, I left my glasses at the lighthouse!” - and turned back to get them… instead of wait for him like the others, I came upon kind of a big parking place for a house nearby and kept riding in circles while waiting.
Once Oscar was back, we kept riding on that small road towards Celeiro. Beautiful road, but quite hilly. As soon as we left it and joined the main coastal road towards the town of Viveiro we had a long descent ahead of us.
I hadn’t eaten anything in the last hour and a half, and finally I was feeling hungry, so I picked up the muffin from the top tube bag, unwrapped it, and wolfed it down during the descent.
We passed the town of Viveiro without stopping, not even slowing down. It was raining, so it wasn’t too inviting to slow down and enjoy the views anyway. We crossed the bridge over the mouth of the river Sor and then we climbed our way to the village of Mañón, taking then the road to the next control point, in another lighthouse, in Estaca de Bares.
In other circumstances, I’d have enjoyed this part of the Brevet a lot. I’ve ridden on this road a few times before this one, doing a couple of 300 Brevets, and it is a beautiful road that goes along the bay of Viveiro all the way to the lighthouse. It is tough, with lots of ups and downs, but it has the kind of tarmac where you can roll fast.
But, this time, the rain was torrential.
And what was worse, I felt the need of another toilet stop. This was around 09:00, so I was hoping to find something open. A bar by the road, a gas station… anything. But nope, no luck, not a single gas station, no road side bars. So I hold it and pushed the pedals. But my humour was getting worse and worse.
On the last repecho, before going down all the way to the village of Estaca de Bares, I saw a small bus stop by the side of the road and I couldn’t resist it anymore. I was a bit ahead of the others, I pulled over and when they were passing I shouted - “Don’t worry, keep on, I’ll catch you up in a moment”.
I parked the bike in the bus stop, went behind it and… well, no need for more details, I guess. Done with it, I resumed riding. The guys were nowhere to be seen, but I knew they would have to come back from the lighthouse on the same road, so I just kept on riding.
The road went down for a while, until I arrived in the small village before the lighthouse, then I had to climb up to the lighthouse where they were waiting for me. I finally arrived there, km 466 and next control point, at 09:45.
Since my quick toilet stop, rain had stopped gradually, which was quite nice as that way I was able to enjoy that little climb a bit more. This lighthouse is at the far point of a piece of land that goes into the sea. As it is in a higher point than the land around it, on your way up you can see the sea to both sides, and you have nice views of the rocky cliffs too. Soooo beautiful.
When I got to the lighthouse Manolo took a proof picture of me in front of it, as there was no way to get our cards stamped here neither.
Everybody was getting hungry, so we decided to stop at the first place we could find open on our way back.
We left the lighthouse, going back on the same road we took to get there, all the way to Mañón again. The road looked much nicer now, without the strong rain falling on us. Even the sun came out a bit to warm us up.
Just after Mañón we found a bar by the road, open, and we stopped there in hopes to get some breakfast. Everybody was dreaming about hot coffee and big toasts of bread and tomatoes… just to be slapped by reality. It was too early and the owner of the bar didn’t have any bread yet. All he could offer was lots of industrial-made croissants, muffins and pastries.
Ah well, that would do. We had coffee and we mostly ate everything he had. I have to say that the coffee was delicious (be it really delicious or simply that I really, really, really wanted it… I don’t know).
Once again, I took a moment to go to the toilet (and turned out, this was the last time I had to go to the toilet like that, for the rest of the brevet… yeah!!).
I also removed the shoe covers and the rain jacket, it didn’t seem like I’d need them anymore (or, for a while at least).
20-25 minutes later, we left the bar and took the road that would get us to Alto do Caxado, the biggest climb of the day.
The rain was definetely gone. The sun started to shine more and more and things were getting warmer. A few km later the real climb started. Oscar, Jose and me went on a bit ahead of the others - “We are the climbers!” - as Oscar would say.
They had been telling me stories and details about this climb during the weekend, about how tough it was going to be, quite the long climb. Honestly, it felt good. I rode with Oscar and Jose for a while at the start and then waited for a moment so Dani could catch me and we could ride together for a while.
We were arriving at the end of the first section of the climb, when we noticed some signs on the road and a guy on a motorbike. The signs said something about some “sport event” so we asked the guy on the motorbike. There was some cycling race going on that road at that moment.
What a coincidence… right? We asked him if we could go on anyway, and he said we could.
A while later, while riding on a flat-descent part before the next section of the climb, a single cyclist passed us so fast it looked like a motorbike.
“wow!” - I shouted - “That one is fast!”. The guy was clearly pushing it, possibly trying to put some distance between him and whoever was chasing him.
And then, we heard a swwoooossshhh sound coming from behind, just in time to be passed by a medium-sized peloton (maybe 10-12 cyclists?) going almost as fast as the previous solo rider.
We were talking about the whole racing thing and how fast these guys were when we started going up another little repecho and we noticed that, at the top of it, there was one of those canopies they use in these events to put a place with food and drinks by the road.
Yes, of course we did stop there!
The race was the XXIII Desafío Vila de As Pontes, an amateur event organized by a cycling club from the town of As Pontes de García Rodriguez. The guys from the organization that were there under the canopy were so nice that they offered us food and drinks.
We did stay there for 10-15 minutes, eating some fruit (I had a couple bananas) and some refilled their bottles too. When we told them what we were doing exactly (the Brevet, the distance, etc) they were quite surprised.
Note
Fun fact: during the 10-15 minutes we did stay there, several groups of participants on that race passed by. Only a couple of riders stopped to eat/drink something.
I guess in these races… food stops are not that important.
Off we went again, on our way to As Pontes. We were riding the same route as the racers, so some more groups passed us. Some of them cheering us and waving as they dissapeared on the next turn.
During this stretch, we passed the 500 km mark, we were getting closer and closer to the finish line, back in Bastiagueiro.
We also passed by some of the people from the organization, who were in places like crossings and turns that may be a bit more dangerous. They all cheered us like if we were participating in their race. We even came across one of their official photographers, who took a picture of us!
After passing the finish line of the race, where they had a photocall for riders to stop and get themselves some nice finish-line photos, we got to the long descent that took us to the town of As Pontes.
It was a bit before 13:00 when we arrived in town, and we decided to have an early lunch there. We found a nice restaurant were we had some bocadillos.
We ordered and while the food was being prepared, Dani went to a bakery next door and bought some desert. Homemade pastries for everybody!
While waiting, I went outside to re-pack some things in my bags. While I was there, a couple sitting on a terrace asked me if I wouldn’t mind telling them what was it that we were doing on the bikes, with all that extra luggage we were carrying. I tried to summarize it as best as I could, the further I went with my summary, the wider they eyes opened in disbelief.
In the end they wished me good luck and bon voyage.
One hour later we left As Pontes, with near 40 km to the next control point in Guitiriz and less than 100 km to the finish line in Bastiagueiro. We had done the hardest part of the day already, but we still had to get out of As Pontes, which meant a couple of short, tough climbs.
We managed, and soon we were back on roller-coaster roads towards Momán. These up-and-down roads let us gain some speed which, added to the idea of being closer and closer to the finish, cheered us up a bit.
It didn’t last long though, dark clouds started to cover the sky again, and it was clear that sooner or later it was going to start raining. The question floating in the air was… how much was it going to rain?
After another repecho, everybody agreed on a quick stop to put on some rain gear. I put on my rain jacket. A few moments later, we realized it had been a good idea. Water started to fall from the sky like if some giant was throwing big buckets of water over us. The hardest rain storm I’ve ever had on the bike, in my entire life! (spoiler alert: “YET”).
As it happened earlier this morning, there was nothing we could do about it. There was no place to get some shelter from the rain, nowhere we could stop and wait for the storm to pass, so we just kept pushing the pedals.
Luckily this road was fast, roller-coaster like but without hard gradients on the “ups”. I can’t tell for sure for how long it was like that, maybe 20-30 minutes? It stopped as soon as we left the main road from Momán and took the smaller road that would get us to Guitiriz, passing by Os Villares.
Something happened then, someone started to push it a bit more, pulling the whole group with him. I tried to keep up but the increasing rythm was a bit too much. Suddendly I looked back and noticed Ferreiro was missing, I did hesitate for a second and the gap between me and the group was too big. I pushed, trying to get back into the group, trying to tell them about Ferreiro being dropped, but it was useless, they had a fast pace now, too fast. The effort I would have to make to catch them was too much to do at this point in the Brevet, so I let go of them.
I looked for a fast pace I could sustain and kept there myself all the way to Guitiriz. Just as I was entering the village, I catched them. It was 15:40 and we were at the last control point, km 551, before the finish line.
We had a quick stop to drink something in a bar, while we waited for Ferreiro. We got our cards stamped and off we went again, taking the main N-VI that would take us back to Coruña, to our starting point in Bastiagueiro.
Everybody was excited at this point. We were so close to finish. Just a couple more short climbs, the rest of the near-50 km we had still to cover were quite favorable, with a few longer descents (the same we climbed on saturday morning).
We set to a nice pace and we chat, made jokes, enjoyed the last hours of this wonderful Brevet.
And then the sky fell on us. Remember what I wrote a few paragraphs above, about the hardest strong rain ever? That was light rain compared with what fell on us near Betanzos afterwards!
It was so much rain, falling hard, that at one point it started to hurt on my arms and legs. Again, no place to get shelter, and this time in the main road to get in and out of Coruña, the big city. The cars, both passing us and driving on the opposite direction, created waves with the water that was on the road, which at that time looked more like a river than a road. Our wheels were inches into the water, it was like crossing a not-so-deep river.
Now, this truly was the hardest rain storm I’ve ever had on the bike, in my entire life!
Anyway, we did endure it. We kept on, head down and handlebars firmly grabbed (which after a while was quite the task, as everything got super slippery) and pushed the pedals.
With maybe 12-15 km to go, it stopped raining again, the clouds were gone and the sun started to shine a bit. It all felt like having a bad nightmare. All we wanted at that point was for the next rain storm/shower to hold on until we had arrived back in INEFG.
We hurried up, as much as we could, and we finally arrived in Bastiagueiro at 18:00.
Everybody was soaked to the bone, but we took a moment to congratulate each other, take a group picture and talk a bit about this crazy weekend of cycling and adventures.
I also picked up the brevet cards of everybody, writing the passing times on each control point. I had been writing them in my phone during the Brevet, instead of writing on each brevet card, to save some time. On every stop we made, I sent a message to my wife (so she could follow our progress and know I was all right), and those messages kept recorded the date and time.
All that done, I said goodbye and packed my things in the car and went straight to the same hotel I had stayed on friday evening. Arriving this early on Sunday, driving for 1 hour and go back home was tempting, but I did not even consider that option, after having two very bad experiences after 400 Brevets, when I almost fell asleep at the wheel. Imagine after riding a 600 without any sleep at all.
I turned the car on and then I realized how tired I really was. It was like if my body was saying “ok, done, no need to keep things running anymore at this point”. I got to the hotel, had a shower, had a quick dinner and fell asleep instantly as soon as I touched the bed.
As usual, here is some data taken from my activity in Strava:
Note
The photos you saw in this report were made by Me and my friends Óscar, Ferreiro and Manolo.. Thanks for sharing them, guys.