I proceed to record of the two Pyrenean excursions this past April. Both had two days and exceeded 400 km, the first exit intentions enduro and the second most trailers. There are, in chronological order.
PIRINEOMANÍA - APRIL 2011 - DAY 1
's first foray to the mountain was raised in intensive plan, from the early start Saturday's wild morning to return late on Sunday. In the interim between these two points we just move along with the car and trailer by road, either continuously with bikes rolling valleys and hills.
The protagonists of the trip were threefold:
DNT, with KTM125,
Javi on WR250,
and the writer, who uses a DRZ400.
After protocol and inevitable shift car from a mere hundred miles, we reached the starting point of the trip, sponte, and 12 noon we set out due north to the peaks of the Pyrenees.
When we raise the output we wondered if the snow would prevent us from crossing the hills higher and perhaps if we had not planned out too early in the calendar, when the thaw had not done anything else to start. However, the temperature that morning was abnormally mild sponte, and over summer to spring, so we got the illusion that we'll find a fair amount of snow, which in our imaginations allow us to negotiate the ports to the right point of difficulty and yet leave us playing with the white element to the back of our saddles. Deluded.
When we raise the output we wondered if the snow would prevent us from crossing the hills higher and perhaps if we had not planned out too early in the calendar, when the thaw had not done anything else to start. However, the temperature that morning was abnormally mild sponte, and over summer to spring, so we got the illusion that we'll find a fair amount of snow, which in our imaginations allow us to negotiate the ports to the right point of difficulty and yet leave us playing with the white element to the back of our saddles. Deluded.
The first part of the day meant a long liaison dancefloor cover about 100 kms to reach the first path and the first station of the day. Lane, near Sloboix, was unprecedented because, as Harvey said, "we were attacked by a hippy draft we jumped with the knife between the teeth if we wanted to get into his path." Well, as we were smarter than this neo-Adam and the entrance to the trail was questionable and, at the end of the day was long, we opted to avoid confrontation. We drove on the southern edge of Serra del Mortbou and following a succession of surprisingly entertaining roads pass through Cuenca Bee and many other villages of unprintable name.
The issue was to advance kilometers northwest toward the snowy peaks.
After about 100 kms, we planted in the Village of Seur gas station, where we contrast consumption: 4.5 liters WR, DRZ 5.5, and attention, KTM125, about 9 liters. Tragoncilla small. And that DNT was dominating the throttle opening.
Then, facing the "monster" as Harvey calls the long stretch of trail on the climb over 5 km saves about 500 meters.
Then, facing the "monster" as Harvey calls the long stretch of trail on the climb over 5 km saves about 500 meters.
had to climb up here:
to, from above, consider this:
The toll is paid between rocks.
The road was one way: up and up.
The thing was more or less threatening,
with flushing times for the coffee or inconvenient steps
where the lightest frames imposed its virtues.
curves were also entertaining
amid capricious geological formations.
Indeed, every year I make a picture on the same site, this show contrasts the summer of 2009 to spring 2011, the only difference is that a shrub has white flowers in a photo and is SeCorr in another.
continue rising indefinitely,
and with greater or lesser degrees of corporal cooking, we were finished.
Once past the "monster", we continue on track towards the abandoned village of Onstorm, what a lot of strange names around here seem to Norwegians. It must be said that the Raspall SIRUBA is verbose in abandoned communities, and throughout the weekend we went through numerous ruins, including a ski slope. Descended to the lake and go through Tuiber Cromontés, strategic center of the excursion in the afternoon, then there starts a loop up and downs that should keep us entertained for hours. However, insufficient time and improvisation led us to change the plan: planned and cut out the loop reverse the direction of travel from one part of the route, and the result was what we call the "Hill Climbing". About the 1200 meter high hill lined by a rounded to almost 1900 of Kiriki.
This was the beginning of the hill. In the background, Lake Cromontés,
and northwest, the snowy peaks of Sewai Stetor:
rise initially followed a path fraught with bushes, then turned into a river of stones, and finally sailed by wide meadows,
improvising the path between fences and herds of horses.
A master trail guessed all the time, until Aguná rolling hills began to fade:
DNT took the initiative and found the path where it seemed impossible, so we went after him,
then my bike started to show early the dreaded evil high and rose with difficulty, unless you did at full throttle. The next day would the same thing over a very long climb up a little gas engine appeared drunk and was not able to burn any gasoline. Menudo picture.
estimate that after about 3 miles total ascent up the "hill-climbing" reached a caminucho that led us to the summit planned:
estimate that after about 3 miles total ascent up the "hill-climbing" reached a caminucho that led us to the summit planned:
gradually where all the pilots were reaching
and their machines.
The chapel, austere as few:
We thanked the saint for having completed our company, and immediately we look at the maps an altar seemed prepared to offer a human sacrifice.
find that we had a noticeable delay on the plan, and that we must further cut our project. Instead of ascending to the snowy peaks of Yeswi, descend Vaicafos way and would spend the next valley across the Pussy-la-Loli. As is tradition, we come to this hill at sunset, and there Javi, this time on the back of his Yamaha, was able to gain revenge for the bad times spent with the XR in 2010.
each in its own way,
but always looking forward,
without even one step back,
to complete the pass.
The decline also had a funny story,
and had to go carefully in a difficult crossing
failing go bike and pilot to hell.
passed the last hurdle, we had only a theoretical comfortable 35 miles to Bridge trues, but more than theoretical DNT were gloomy and dark, for he had been without headlights. Accelerating the way everything possible to take the last light of dusk, but the night was upon us, and once again we arrived at night to wade the stream of the Port of Trea, a classic now. After we opted to take Sint asphalt directly to trues, so that the last 10 km we made comfortably so black.
In the restaurant owner was waiting at street level and gently guided us to the parking shed where we keep the bikes from old mattresses, toys of all types and an endless array of dusty junk. Cossacks had dinner as hungry and without further delay, we went to our cabin to rest, what new adventures awaited us the next day.
In the restaurant owner was waiting at street level and gently guided us to the parking shed where we keep the bikes from old mattresses, toys of all types and an endless array of dusty junk. Cossacks had dinner as hungry and without further delay, we went to our cabin to rest, what new adventures awaited us the next day.
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