Feeling a little flat?

Today’s story is all about how just much of a quiet word we would like with the chap who wrote the route we’ve been following.

Footpaths can be lots of fun on foot however, Pyrenean footpaths, on mountain bikes can definitely do one ….particularly the really thorny bits.

We were doing well this morning and making good time until we found the footpath. Just a short stretch to link two tracks, no problem?!

You could call bits of it a footpath, at a stretch, the rest was made nasty looking of thorny stuff that I am still extracting from my skin, that and a lot of bear tracks.

By the time we’d dragged our bikes out of the other end of the “path” (an hour or so later…) Gez’s front tyre was very, very flat. 

The first hopeful attempt to fix the three large holes with the special magic glue stuff (did I mention I have very little idea about mountain biking…?) was a right let down. 

Thank goodness Gez is always super prepared and we were soon inflating an emergency inner tube to the comforting sound of the Pyrenean bovine samba band**

Essentially we are in serious need of a bike shop. Gez’s back brake remains lethal and front wheel has gone slightly square. Attempts to fill and bleed hydraulic fluid using whatever is at hand have not been successful. The nearest bike shop is 80km away in the wrong direction.  Fortunately, it turns out Gez doesn’t need a back brake.

In other news, we are very excited to inform you we have reached our half way point (yay us!). Tonight we have a hotel bed and a bathroom with an actual bath in Castejón de Sos. 

Fingers crossed we will find a bike magician in the morning who will help us on our way to San Sebastián. Thank you so much to our friends at Colour and Thing for your generous donation. Maybe someone else out there can give us a helping hand to meet our cancer research target….I can assure you this is much harder work than sitting in a bath of beans …??

**for those of you yet to venture into the Pyrenees, every cow here has a very large bell secured around it’s neck. A large enough heard of said cows grazing sounds like a very bad but enthusiastic samba band. 

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