That was Pecol

That was Pecol, laying in silent at the bottom of the valley. It was a fast finish did Manuel Roca think after spending 7 hours on the saddle. In one way it was a shame not to terminate the race with the first group he ascertained, but the problem he had with his left knee did not permit him to fully put all his concentration in the race. In the back of his mind the pain he experienced was too vivid to allow him to push the pedals as hard as he wanted. At any time he expected to feel the pain which fortunately, never occurred. His pedal strokes were gentle like he was strolling on his bike in the mountains surrounding Pecol. In the end he was just too happy to be there and not in bed with an aching knee and for that reason he smiled as he crossed the finish line. Determined to start the race, he felt better and better as he went along. He passed the first route split and without thinking he opted for the long option. On a double carriage road, he pedalled on his own. He could have waited for someone to share some work in the wind but he preferred to carry on with the pace he found most comfortable. As the race left the wide road, it entered a tortuous territory full of ups and downs. Manuel Roca felt great on most of them; his legs span fast, his heart throbs were regular and well within its limits and his lungs distributed oxygen to all tissues. When he reached the second split, Manuel Roca faced the biggest dilemma of the day. Long or medium route? In all honesty he did not brood over it for too long and decidedly turned left heading for the long route. Soon the road plunged into a narrow valley, Manuel Roca took a quick peep to the speedometer and read 74 Km per hour. He went ecstatic and a sense of pride went through his spine. Like a bullet Manuel Roca acquired more speed and as he took another look at the speedometer he noticed this showed naught. Immediately he realised that the magnet tilted on the spoke and the sensor could not read anything. Manuel Roca stopped to verify whether his intuition was correct and attempted to fix the problem. Unintentionally, he touched the rim and found out that it was very hot. He imagined the brake pads clenching it to come to a halt and figured out why he scalded himself; he smiled. He looked for the magnet and realised he was right. He tried to fix it but this was too loose and therefore would have needed a screw which he had in his tolls bag under the saddle. He decided to take the magnet off the spoke and carry on without the support of his speedometer; he did not like the idea but did not want to waste much time. Nobody caught up with Manuel Roca who carried on accompanied by his own thoughts.
He crossed a bridge over a river that in that point screamed all its monstrous fluvial power. This went through a very narrow gorge that increased its rage before flowing into a spectacular reservoir. Manuel Roca felt the vigour of Nature siding with him and immediately shifted the chain on to a harder gear; his knee was not aching. He left the marvellous sight behind and started climbing a long but steady slope where he overtook a group of riders that included a girl. After a few hundred meters, with 2 more kilometres to climb, he got caught by a group of 5. Manuel Roca joined them without problems since their pace was perfectly bearable. Three of them were taking turns in front whilst the remaining two remained on the tow. Manuel Roca copied the latter and did not feel guilty. A long winding descent cut through fields crammed with hundreds of sheep. Manuel Roca did not trust the woolly animals and feared that they would jump in the middle of the road. For that reason, he began pulling his brake levers too often and lost touch from the group of riders he was part of. He did not despair and as they tackled the following climb he managed to reel two of them in. The stronger ones became smaller and smaller up the road, Manuel Roca thought he could stay with them but, at the same time, he did not want to take any risk to put his life in danger.

The pace was good as the three took regular turns in front. Manuel Roca felt the urge to piss and was forced to stop and leave the two guys fly away from him. He did not like the idea but the need to stop was too strong. The second feed station is in sight, Manuel Roca stopped and grabbed as much food as he could, possibly too much. He went off on his own thinking how beatiful it was to pedal in such an extraordinary place.

Manuel Roca never felt really tired and reached the end of the race well within his limits. He was pleased he finished and that his knee did not stop him on the course.