Castles in the Sky

23 September, 13

Yesterday Julio took me on the bike ride to hell. And back. We spent three hours in the saddle. That hurts, but it was worth it.

We have taken several trips into the mountains around La Alberca. The vistas are incredible. You can see 80 kilometers in any direction, from the Mediterranean Sea on one side to mountain ranges on the other. The whole trip, however, is uphill. When I say the whole trip, I mean from Julio's doorstep until the last 20 minutes of the ride. When I say uphill, I'm talking UP-HILL. I grew up in the Pee Dee, where it is pretty doggone flat. Speed bumps count as hills, where I'm from. It has gotten to the point where I look forward to seeing a rut cut across the trail, because I know that for at least 1/2 a second, I will have the sensation of going downhill, before I have to push up and over the other side of the rut.

Yesterday, though, I was a monstro. I had eaten my Wheaties or something, because I was attacking the mountain. I even passed a few runners. They really make me mad, especially the old grisly ones that look nigh unto death, but are moving faster on feet than I am on wheels. Finally we took the mountain and were headed downhill. Julio had promised me cervezas when we got to the bottom, so I was properly motivated. After 10-15 minutes of a slight descent, however, we started back uphill. Nothing breaks my heart like thinking I am about to get a present, only to find I am getting more work instead. Then we stopped for a minute to catch our collective breath and refill the water bottles. Julio pointed out into the distance, the far distance, a castle ruin at the top of a mountain. We were far away and far below. That means one thing. We must go up and up and up. So up we went. We rode our bikes as far as we could, then dismounted and hiked the rest of the way.

The castle ruins are from Castillo de la Asomada. I attached a link for a YouTube video that somebody else made. The castle was built by the Moors in the 1200's. You can see everything from there. It begs the question, however, what you could do once you saw what you were looking for. I mean, nobody is going to attack you way up there. Why bother? Just take the valley below and make you come out of your big ole castle to do something about it. I suppose they had some sort of early warning device, like smoke signals, that alerted the other castles to get ready for the invaders. It made sense to somebody. Now it's just a ruins that provides beautiful views, if you are crazy enough to climb up to it.

Then we started for home. That meant more uphill. I was pissed and I was out of water. Finally we crested a hill and started our descent. Julio told me we were going to go down Matarhombre, which we are planning to ascend in one month. Let me break down that word for you. Matador derives from matar, which means, "to kill". Hombre is Spanish for, "man". So this particular path we were about to descend is literally called, "Mankiller". I understand why. All it lacked was some rails and a seatbelt to qualify as a roller-coaster. This sucker was wicked. I have worked on roofs that were flatter than this. My arms and hands hurt from pushing against the handlebars to keep from going over them the whole time. There was a serious pucker factor going on with that little bike seat. After we got down, Julio told me that they call it Matarhombre, because it is so difficult to go up. Down was just fun. That's why I like Julio.

We did get our cervezas at the local biker bar in town. When I say biker, I mean guys who ride mountain bikes and wear those little biker shorts. It is really hard to look or feel cool in biker shorts, even when everybody else is wearing them. About 20 of us sat outside, drinking beer and eating olives. The rest of the day I was useless. But it was worth it, just to say I did it.