Here we go, nufs enuf

Enough of the rubbish story, here is a selection of pics from the rest of the trip.

Nearly met Joe Black ere kid

Prochain jour

Will the real 'Man from Belmonte' please stand up

Next day, more trails, more kicking over, more i struggled. I was somtimes struggling to breathe and i was also losing a lot of fluid from sweating. Wearing full motorbike riding gear aint a good idea out here mate. We got lost on the trail again, the heat got to us and tempers were once again being frayed. This time we took a 30 minute dinner break to cool down and sort ourselves out, i was struggling big time again. Off we went again and found a trail that lead us to a small road. I was relieved the ordeal was over for a while. I plotted a route to Belmonte on the GPS where we met up with Ian again.

Although i nearly collapsed (well thats what it felt like to me anyways) it didn't stop us going to the local square to partake in much ado about sardines, pork and red wine. The local mayor invited us to sit with a few of the locals where more free red wine was gratefully accepted. The next day Ian and i were suffering a bit. A local chappy on a Kawasaki 1400 wotsit, who i named 'The man from Belmonte' invited us to join him at a local swimming malarky, where we stayed for a couple of hours to bathe in the cool mountain waters. However, Pedro Alvares Cabral, who discovered Brazil on the 22nd of April 1500, is probably the real 'Man from Belmonte'. He was born in the small town of Belmonte, probably close to the very square where we were the night before, where he would no doubt had his own sardines and red wine quite a few years ago now.

This was the worst day for me, too much wine, too much sun, too much running up and down trails, too much kicking over, not enough water, bit of a cold and just generally feeling crap. We didn't do many miles this day and ended up in an expensive hotel at a place called Montegas (i think!). I did a bit of maintenance to the bikes, didn't have a drink, felt exhausted and went to bed around 10 of the clock.

Nother day, nother dime

The next couple of days were spent following the trail best we could. Inevitably we got lost quite a number of times. I was also finding it quite difficult physically as each time Carly fell off the bike, i had to run to her to pick it up then kick it over the traditional 30 times to get it started again. Time after time, i ran back and forth, up hill down dale always coming to the rescue.

Going up one trail i was quite a bit faster than Carly. I recognised a spot on the trail where it was inevitable that carly would fall off. I stopped and waited, up she came, off she went, right on cue in front of the camera (see pics), what about that then. The bike had tipped past 90 of the degrees, oil was spewing out of the crankcase breather, engine stopped, oil refilled, 30 kicks and we were off. This fall had damaged the clutch lever, it was now pointing outwards and downwards, which made clutch control rather difficult. Later that evening i fashioned a spare lever i had in my bag to fit, which meant hacksawing it for 2 hours so it would work ok.

Another trail we followed a fella came out of his house and if i could have translated it, he would have probably said 'Can't go down theer kid'. We didn't argue, just turned round and put the stove on.

We started on another couple of trails. One was manageable quite easily without a rear brake while the other one was a long down hill descent. Taking the long descent my front wheel locked. I locked it for an instant and resigned myself to the inevitable tumble. However, a quick reshuffle of body weight and nifty footwork saw me rescue it back upright. Further down the same descent, another lock up. This time, with a bit of divine intervention, coupled with some help from my right thumb, my right knee and my right testicle saw me save the inevitable once again, what about that then! We stopped for a while in order to let the nicely blued smoking front disc cool down just a tad.

I soon worked out how to control the bike a bit better when going down hill by freewheeling it without the engine running, and in first gear, then feathering the clutch to give me a little bit of rear wheel braking. It worked, but it was hard work mentally.

Brake day

Checked the bikes over in the morning and found that the rear caliper on my bike had blown the piston seal, what about that then! From this point on i knew that whatever trail we went on would be much more difficult, but it wasn't enough to end the trip mi amigo, just makes it a bit more interesting. Obviously the only way to fix it would have been to find a Yamaha dealer and fit a new seal. Top tip of the day - be very careful when buying aftermarket piston seals from ebay.

Had breakfast and headed off towards the next parts of the route, but took a wrong turn and spent an hour getting back on track, must learn to use the GPS better! Hit the first trail and within a few KM we experienced our first real problem. A newly built bridge proved impossible to pass. We quickly backtracked and found another way forward. Carly went off in front leaving me in a cloud of dust, while i limped along on the brakeless XT, always wary, can be buggers them there trails.

The trail, which had been input onto the GPS, was easy to follow most of the time. A bit of common sense, which is a good job because thats all i've got anyway, saw us through to the next bits. Although some of the trails were easy, i found myself struggling with the tricky braking malarky, the front was constantly on the brink of locking up.

Tempers were rather frayed on one section. Too much sun, too many trails, too much hard work being undertaken by a novice rider, too much expectation from an experienced nobber. All of the above saw Carly spitting her dummy out big style. Whilst turning the bike round she threw the old CD down onto a grassy bit. I responded by calling her a ******* ********. We came off the trail and i thought of the options we had from now on. Option 1, get on with it and stop crying, option 2, i could escort her to Santander so she could get the next ferry home. Option 1 was preffered so we carried on regardless. It was while Carly was fetching her dummy from the middle of the field that i noticed a bolt missing from the old CD's crash bars. It had been on its side that many times it must have just undone itself and rolled away. This was soon rectified when we found a garage who kindly refitted another bolt into place free of charge.

Time was passing on and we were finding it diffiult to find any accommodation, there were no camp sites here with log cabins, no hotels either mate. We back tracked quite a few Km to a hotel we passed earlier on in the day. It turned out to be quite expensive, but i checked the bikes over while Carly got the camping stove out and cooked a couple of ration packs in the bathroom of the hotel. While cooking, we got a text from Ian. He was now in Aviedo and suggested we meet up the next day or so.

Morning has broken

Next morning Ian set off for the south coast while Carly and I set off in search of more trails. We managed to find quite a few, some easy, some not so easy. A particularly difficult one was found, which turned out to be a quarry. The trail was steep, very steep in fact, Carly fell off, 30 kicks later we were on our way but abandoned any further attempts on this particular trail. Another trail was followed, which lead us through a dry river bed. Again, Carly fell off, i gave it the traditional 30 kicks, she dusted herself off and on we went. However, just round the corner a flock of sheep were grazing, and were being guarded by the biggest dog we had ever seen, bar none kid. It gave chase, first concentrating on me, then on Carly, then its mate joined in. They soon gave up and we continued along the trail.

Petrol was now becoming a bit of a situation. We didn't fill up in the morning and now Carly was on reserve (we know what that means don't we Toni?). We were panicking a bit, but never fear, there was a petrol station near, Carly had 1/2 litre left, what about that then kid?

The rest of the day was spent heading towards Portugal, taking in a few more trails along the way. We eventually arrived at a place called Lake Sanabria around 8 of the clock, had a ration pack and a few drinks, thats it.

Next day

After an awful nights sleep on the reclining chairs, and then the floor, we clocked in at Santander around 12.30pm. We waited our turn like cattle to disembark. People were busy falling over straps, cables, boots etc whilst at the same time packing their bikes. After an hour we were let loose onto the steaming hot streets of Santander.

After talking rubbish with a chappy on the ferry, we decided we should take the coastal route to Llanes. We took a few wrong turns and had to double back a few times whilst I became accustomed to using my GPS.
Anyway, we made our way into the Picos and took in a couple of easy trails, which we all found easily manageable. The next one was a bit tougher. I went up a fairly steep trail, which was quite loose under wheel. Carly came up followed by Ian. Once again, we had to double back so I went down first, then Carly, then no one. Carly and I waited but there was no sign of Ian. After what seemed like 5 minutes, but was more like 2 minutes, I went back up to find Ian. Whilst turning the bike round, Ian had dropped his bike and had struggled to pick it back up, c’est la vie.

Later on we found a camp site at a place called Riano that had a few log cabins available for 35 euro’s, what about that then? It was while we were getting unpacked that Ian decided that he would like to stay on the big roads instead of the trails. So, he made the decision to have a blast to the south coast of Portugal. The old XT and the even older CD weren’t really up to the rigours of high speed cruising so Carly and I decided we should stick with plan A and stay on the trails.