Back row L-R Gunnar Tryggvason, Karen Axelsdottir, Howard Houlston, Barry Atkins, Huw Arthur. Front row L-R Steve Small, Oliver Excell, Claire Richardson.

Thu 3rd May
We were up at 8AM for a swim along the beach to the pier and back. About 25 mins out and 20 back - the taste of the salt water and the rolling waves was certainly different after a winter of pool swimming. It was a good wake up call and opportunity to test some rather rusty sighting skills.

After setting up the bikes and lunch we headed out on a cycle to the summit where Robby & Bruce took their photos in 2005 - the rain and wind were especially strong which made the drive to the top hard work. At the top there was not a lot to see as the clouds had come in, so we quickly headed back.

On our return we saw Steve on the couch, surrounded by a devastation of crisp, sweet and biscuit wrappers. He had decided that the weather qualified this as a rest day and he was taking his rest pretty seriously. The rest of us donned trainers for a run and a quick brick session.

Quote of the evening:

Fri 4th May
After another pier swim in the morning with cold weather, rain and cloud cover we headed to Decathlon. We had booked a tandem skydive for everyone but the jump wasn’t going to happen today. By the end of the day the weather did clear up and people began to jump, but we had already rescheduled for Sun evening.

The main reason for Decathlon was that Huw had left his seat clamp at home - it must have fallen off while he was disassembling his bike. Lesson 1: ensure all nuts and bolts are retightened after disassembly. After we got back there was a quick pasta lunch and then a bike ride out to Cadaques.

This time without the wind and rain, the climb was much easier and the views spectacular. I could feel yesterday in my legs and I hoped I hadn’t burnt them for tomorrow’s big bike - the plan was for a long outride ranging from 4 - 6 hours.

Cadaques - our favourite destination

The road down into Cadaques was stunning - such beautiful views and such a gorgeous town - we decided to have dinner there on the following evening. We took a brief detour out to Port Ligat where Dali’s house can be found. Just as we decided to leave and were working up a short sharp incline, something went crack on Ollie’s bike - a spoke had come off and the bike was unridable.

We couldn’t get a taxi so it was lucky that Steve had stayed behind to do a gentle swim/run workout. He headed over to pick up Oli in the car and it was another trip to Decathlon to pick up a spare wheel. Lesson 2: always have a plan B.

The ride back was, if anything even more stunning. The route out of Cadaques was not as steep and so with Huw leading out we could get up a strong pace. Coming down the other side the low sun lit up the dispersed clouds in orange hues. In the distance, the Pyrenees loomed and the sweep of the bay and the beach beside Empuriabrava invitingly showed us the way home. What a great evening to be jumping - shame it wasn’t us. We attacked the downhill with sharp switchbacks and even though I did work the brakes a bit it was a much more aggressive and thrilling run than Thursday.

Sat 5th May
Saturday - the long bike ride. I was a bit nervous as this was going to be a very challenging day for all of us. Just how challenging I didn’t know - I had scoped out a climb on the map with plenty of switchbacks but was unsure of the gradient. I had been up this route before but several years ago and in a car. On the bike would be a different story.

The plan was to tackle the same climb we had done on the previous 2 days but instead of descending into Cadaques, we would go down to Port de la Selva and then start the climb to the old monastery (Monastir de Sant Pere de Rodes). Once up half of the group would turn back the way we had come, and Barry, Steve and myself would cycle on towards France.

As we started up the monastery route, it quickly became evident that this was no ordinary climb. The winds were also quite blustery in places, meaning we often had to cycle into a strong headwind as well as battling with the steep gradient. I should point out that this was a 6K route of constant climbing and at the end of it we would be some 600 metres from the starting point at sea level (so a pretty long 1 in 10). Box Hill will never look the same.

Port de la Selva seen from the top of the monastery climb

There were several people cursing my name that day, including Karen and that’s saying something! Special mention goes to Gunnar and Claire - they haven’t had as much time on the bike as the rest of us, but even so they didn’t let up and managed to complete most of the route before turning home - no mean feat. Huw, Karen and Oli all completed the climb and then headed back to Port de la Selva for a well earned lunch.

Barry, Steve and myself started the descent on the other side down to Vilajuiga. Steve swung into the corners at an alarming pace and try as I might to keep up, he was soon gapping Barry and myself. I couldn’t fathom how he managed such speed and I determined to put my fear aside, push harder, lean into the turns and leave the brakes as much as possible.

As I came shooting around a sharp right hander I got a shock: there was Steve on the other side of the road, his bike in the gravel and a grimace on his face. He had misjudged the turn, run out of road and hit the deck hard. There was plenty of road rash down his left shoulder and hip, and a fair amount of blood on his elbow. Thankfully he was alright and had managed to avoid hitting his head. On closer inspection I could see he was going to leave a decent chunk of arm in Spain - the gash on his elbow was very deep.

I thought that was it - Are we going home? I asked. No way says Steve - We’re going to France! Oli had been struggling all weekend with the SA phrase “That’s power” - when we got back we told him the story. Getting back on the bike and continuing on a 6hr bike ride as if nothing had happened after a pretty unpleasant crash - that is Power.

We would have loved to have got to France but to cut the story short, a storm was coming in with brutal winds and we ran out of tarmac - dirt roads are no good for road bikes. We decided to head back up to the monastery on the route we had just come down - there would be 2 big climbs before the final stretch home. The winds were so strong we hit our max speeds with them at our back - 60kph on the flat…!

The profile of the 6hr bike ride

Working back up to the monastery I hit a dark place with 3k left to the summit (the 3rd peak on the profile image above). My back was screaming and 3 days climbing in the saddle were taking their toll. Barry disappeared up front and Steve came past me looking fresh - he had paced himself much better than me. I struggled to the top, bonking badly and even after wolfing a couple of gels I was shattered. It was rough justice after what I had put the earlier group through. There were 2 options: descend the climb we had just come up and have an easy route home or go down to Port de la Selva and face another 12K climb out again.

We got back on the bikes and went down to the port. We got back OK - I did manage the climb and 8 hours after starting out we were back at the apartment. Truly this was a day for testing limits and we were stronger for it. We weren’t quite finished though - there was a 30 min brick run before we could relax for the evening and down some well deserved beers.

Sun 6th May
After yesterday’s heroics, we had a lie in before the long run. The winds were still blowing but the sun was out. We set out on runs varying from 75 to 120 mins along the canal path - a flat route lined with trees. On the outbound route we had to work into a fierce headwind and were managing about 8:30 min miles - the turnaround was a welcome let up and with the wind at our backs we cruised home in sub 7:00 miles, even hitting 6:40 at the end without undue effort. Damn I could have done with that on the last 10K of the London marathon a few weeks back!

After lunch we drove over to Cadaques - fast becoming our favourite destination for the trip. The plan to swim the bay in a couple of 1K repeats. When we arrived I discovered I had forgot my wetsuit, but there was no backing out now. The secluded bay was easier that the rough chop of the Empuriabrava beach and we provided much amusement for the locals, who stared at these crazy idiots clad in neoprene and subjecting themselves to the cold sea waters.

Once again we had put in a full day and the evening’s paella hardly touched the sides. None of us felt guilty about yet again visiting the ice cream parlour in town - a vice that was becoming a daily pilgrimage. The wind was still blowing outside and so we had once again rescheduled our jump - this time for Monday morning.

Mon 7th May
Our final day and the last chance to jump - we found out quickly that it was a no go - the winds were still too strong. So it was back to the bikes and another trip to Cadaques with a coffee stop at the far end.

The weather apart from the wind was idyllic and the initial pace very relaxed. Claire decided to sit this one out - 3 hard rides earlier in the camp were enough. As we approached the climb, Steve upped the tempo and started to push. I was breathing deep and we had hardly gone round a couple of corners! The pace kept strong as we climbed higher and the initial shock to the system subsided. Barry took on the lead and began to push again. I didn’t check my HR but I knew it was well into 75/80% zone - I was too focussed on holding onto Barry’s wheel to admire the views.

We regrouped at the top and then completed the final section to the military restricted zone. I was actually really glad that we hadn’t jumped - as we looked back the skies were a clear blue with the snow capped Pyrenees in the background - not for the first time on this trip I thought to myself there’s nowhere else I’d rather be right now. Gunnar had broken a bolt while tightening his seat clamp and so he & Karen had to turn back.

The rest of us descended into Cadaques, Steve once again charging round the hairpins like a man possessed - the crash had done nothing to dull his pathological tendencies. On the beach front we stopped for a coffee in the glorious sunshine and soaked up the sights for the last time.

On the climb back Oli took an early lead and then Steve took over. Seeing that he had some soreness from his crash I took on the front position. The initial pace was moderate and as we continued it picked up gradually. After about 10 mins I was pushing hard with the guys in the slipstream. Knowing this was the last climb I dug in and worked into the headwind. Nearer the top the climb flattened off, enabling us to get quite a charge on. We swung into the top of the climb exhilarated by the effort and the view that stretched off into the distance. A quick break for more photos and then home.

Round Up
As we fly back, I’m pretty sure we’re all thinking in one way we’re glad to have finished the gruelling schedule, but in another we’re sorry to be leaving. I speak for us all when I say that we’d all gladly return and I can’t recommend this type of camp highly enough.

I know some of the club are organizing their own trips and no doubt you guys will have an awesome time and will have your own stories to tell. Thanks RobbyRicc and Bruce for all of your advice and getting us fired up about Spain - as always you didn’t disappoint. I’m looking forward to Girona 2008 already.

More photos can be found here.