On to Girona

To Girona, Spain – 28.4 miles, 10.0 mph, 1925 ft

Somehow, our Warm Shower hosts, Jaume and Moni were up and out of the apartment before any of us were out of bed.  Kylie and Dex slept in the living room, while Meg and I took the hide-a-bed in the office.  I expect our speed at getting going in the morning will improve over time.  It was almost 10:30 when we finally got our rigs rolling.

We had some climbing to do getting out of town.  At one point, I realized that the Komoot bike route headed off the main highway, unlike the Google Maps route that stuck to the N-11.  Meg let me talk her into the Komoot route and away we went.  Soon we were slogging up the steep hills on the outskirts of town.  Apparently, every household was required to keep a pair of guard dogs on their balcony to warn of any foreign bike tourists.  After a  quick snack, we continued up to the summit.

To my surprise, the paved road suddenly ended as the digitized, blue line for the Komoot route abruptly turned left up the dirt side road.

“Ahh, you’re not going to like this,” I announced as Meg and Dex pulled up.  Clearly, there was no way we were giving up the recently hard-earned elevation gain, and besides, from the map, it looked like we'd soon be back on paved roads. Still, we probably weren't going to be able to ride up that first section either.

To my delight (and Meg's dismay), the dirt road continued on for another five miles or so. Fortunately, most of it was well maintained.  [Meg's note:  It reminded me of our days on the Continental Divide. Don't tell Dean this, but I really did enjoy it.  I have to give props to Dex as he was such a trooper for these climbs.  He'd say "OK Mom, we're going to get to the top of this one." and we did!  And the next one and the next one....]

Eventually, we did meet a paved road and despite the blue line, opted to speed down the paved highway to the tiny town of Llagostera, where we ate and rested in the town park.

The rest of the ride really was idyllic.  We were amazed and the network of well-maintained walking/biking paths running between towns, and crisscrossing wheat and barley fields.  

We finally pulled up in front of the Hostal Alhambra around 5:30.  The room was tight but would do the job.  

We took our nightly stroll to a neat, little pizza parlor.  The Italian man behind the counter worked hard to communicate with us, eagerly swapping around tables so we could sit closer to the TV and watch a game of indoor soccer (futsal).  Having watched very little TV over the last few weeks, that alone was quite a treat.  Add the pizza -- and cold, tasty beverages -- and you had one happy family.