Bike Tour Days 19 and 20: Cadiz to Tarifa

Day 19: Cadiz to Zahara De Los Atunes (85 km)
Weather: A little warmer: 50's in the morning , mid-60s in afternoon, Mostly sunny. 
Roads: Awful at the very first, when forced to ride along interstate, but rapidly improving as day went on, to some of best riding of trip near end of day.
Bike: Should adjust shifting.  All is functional, but could look at miking it run more smoothly.   Also considering swapping front tire with bigger spare. 

Even though the people a the hostel showed me a back road next to the railroad tracks along the South peninsula where it was possible to escape Cadiz, it looked likely to be a time-consuming challenge to navigate, and an unpleasant stretch to primitive road even when I did find it, so I just caught the train out of town, which dropped me off in San Fernando, at the mainland side of the Peninsula.  There began an unpleasant stretch of riding that, due to a large river estuary, forced me onto a European version of a freeway, which is to say, a freeway with really narrow shoulders bordered by a guardrail upon which one could not help oneself smeared should any of the speeding traffic veer from its lane by a few feet.

However, this only lasted for a few kilometers , and soon I escaped on an exit where I could follow a road along the/construction of an extent ion of the train to Chiclana (future bike tourists reading this, take the train to Chiclana), then I was on more manageable suburban roads heading out of town.  Heading west to the coast, the suburbs gave way to ritzy golf communities and upscale seaside condos.  The traffic disappeared, and I whizzed along the smooth pavement out into more parkland along the ocean and bike touring gold. 

Taking lunch at a clifftop overlook of Concil De LA Frontera, I basked in full sunshine and warm temperatures, and the first of many spectacular views along the lightly developed coast of southwest Spain.  I zoomed along the valley next to the ocean with farmland slanting down to the dying sea, until the view to landward became dominated by the dune/mountain of LA Brena y Marismas De Babarte national park. Huffing and puffing up the steep road from the deserted resort town of Zahora, I summited the mountain and cruised along the ridge, gathering sweeping sea views here and there through the pines.  If I had it to do over again, I would have taken the trail (actually a well-packed, slightly graded dirt road) to achieve even better views, but as it was, I had a delightful cruise over the top, and a thrilling descent with great views down to Barbote, where I had a late-afternoon beer at one of the beach side cafes.  Having daylight and energy left in the tank, I bumped off another 10km to find a nice campsite area near Zahara De las Atunes.  A quick dinner on the camp stove and and early night to bed, making up from a couple sleep deprived nights in a hostel full of snoring cohabitants.

Oh, and I can see Africa in the distance now.

Day 20- Zahara De las Atunes to Tarifa(45 km)
Weather: chilly in the morning (high 30's), warming (low 60s)and sunny midday, the getting cloudy later. 
Roads: A day of extremes: from steep loose jeep trail to smooth pavement with a massive tailwind
Bike: same as yesterday

Day broke chilly but sunny, and after almost 12 hours of restful slumber in the tent, I was soon packed and moving southward.  This was a somewhat significant risk, because though my road map showed the road to Altanterra as a dead end, the tablet's GPS showed a couple routes via dirt road that tied together the communities on either side of a rather prominent obstructing mountain.  There was a low road and a high road, and though I had certain knowledge of the low road going through from a friendly German in the campground, I, in my arrogance, decided the high road was superior.  This, I figured, was due to its longer length (which equalled lesser grades in my estimation), and thus I could avoid pushing the bike, as  I knew I would have to do with the low road.

This was not correct.  I huffed and puffed up a very steep twisting paved road to find a locked gate at its end, but with a bike-sized gap beside it, and tracks leading in to indicate it was travled.  However, the longer length, I found, just meant it climbed over the mountain all the more- to its 1300 foot summit, in point of fact.  The good news is now I can say I have now mountain biked in Spain, the bad news is that it mainly consisted of pushing my bike-cum-luggage cart up the side of a steep mountain. 

Lessons learned?  Arrogance works.  While the push was tiring, the views were increasingly stupendous, and upon finally reaching the summit, I was welcomed with pavement and a nice road down the other side.  The top was a strange maze of overgrown roads withe curbs and drains as if it were slated residential, but then abandoned- sort of a "Lost" feel to it.  But great views boost to the north (back toward the park with a massive wind farm in the middle distance) and to the south, where I could see all the way down to Tarifa and  in the farther distance, detail beginning to show on the foothills of the Atlas Mountains in Morocco. 

Zooming down the steep but paved road on the other side, I soon reached a major goal of the day the archeological site at Bolonia.  This excavation of an amazingly intact Roman town is special because unlike most other such sites, no civilization built on top of the site, and it takes little to no imagination to understand the layout of the settlement.  I am guessing some Euro-cash flowed in here recently, because there is a spanking-new visitor center, and very informative interpretive signs everywhere, all for the very reasonable €1.50 entrance fee (free with EU passport).  Present are sections of aquaduct, a large theater, forum, temples, houses, and a fishery.  Just amazing for anyone with a flicker of historical curiosity.  Also the valley that housed the town was a s scenic as could be, with dramatic stone spires behind, and a gleamimg beach with turquoise water. 

I did have to climb over a low pass to leave the valley, but getting back on the main road to Tarifa, I enjoyed a strong tailwind and sailed the last 15 km easily into town.  I grabbed a late lunch (generally the only type available), found the hostel, and settled in, taking on the long-neglected task of editing all my photos.  The next day is predicted to be cold and rainy, offering the perfect opportunity to take a rest day, catch up on the blog, and make a game plan for Morocco. Happily, this hostel is lightly occupied, and I got a room to myself for the price of a bunk, and the ability to sleep indoors at peace.