Day 7 - Saturday.
Although the trip west had been a great insight to other less visited areas of Spain we were starting to miss those mountain roads. A route was plotted to take us back over the mountains.
We checked out just as a business man and hooker checked in for an hour...
My battery had been showing signs of weakness so on occation I need to re-start the bike to clear an ABS error. I did this to find they had gone
Not knowing if they had gone right or left I turned right. They had in fact turned left
We caught up after about 20mins and a couple of calls.
Talking of batteries, Grahams was having a spell of going flat but we managed to get it started with a push each time. You'd struggle alone though as they take a fair shove.

It was good to get back to the high twisties. We did come across a section of road at the top of one, well it wasn't really a road. More a wet clay type mud track which was slippy as hell.
It kept us alert and Howard resembled a chocolate soldier after following behind
The rain was back now, off and on but the roads remained wet.
I had taken the decision to go with TKC's expecting to do a few lanes. They are surpisingly good in the dry and allowed plenty of fun.
In the wet they did require extra concentration whilst pressing on through sweepers and hairpins.
Overall we were evenly paced with rarely a big gap between the front runner and back marker.
I have to offer Nick some credit here on his airhead. With soft front forks, drum brake at the rear and single disc up front he did very well to keep up on those steep roads.
I think he is a better rider than he would have you believe. He did though look low down on the bike, while following he looked like an old boy reading a paper in an arm chair (or less politely on a toilet
)
Graham started parking his bike on hills.

It soon became time to look for a hotel for the night. We were getting less fussy now and stopped in this grim looking town.
There was a variety to the towns and villages we passed through. From rustic medieval villages where you'd see one lone impassive old man to villages straight out of a spaghetti western. Then there were these places that looked like cold war Russia.
One thing they all had in common was a lack of human life; you hardly saw anyone.

Some went in search of life while others had a private Zumo moment..

As the
rolled through town the message came back there were no rooms for english.
Luckily Howard had rode off ahead and came back with news from a bar about a hotel 3 km out of town.
And what a strange hotel it turned out to be too
Although the trip west had been a great insight to other less visited areas of Spain we were starting to miss those mountain roads. A route was plotted to take us back over the mountains.
We checked out just as a business man and hooker checked in for an hour...
My battery had been showing signs of weakness so on occation I need to re-start the bike to clear an ABS error. I did this to find they had gone

Not knowing if they had gone right or left I turned right. They had in fact turned left

We caught up after about 20mins and a couple of calls.
Talking of batteries, Grahams was having a spell of going flat but we managed to get it started with a push each time. You'd struggle alone though as they take a fair shove.

It was good to get back to the high twisties. We did come across a section of road at the top of one, well it wasn't really a road. More a wet clay type mud track which was slippy as hell.
It kept us alert and Howard resembled a chocolate soldier after following behind

The rain was back now, off and on but the roads remained wet.
I had taken the decision to go with TKC's expecting to do a few lanes. They are surpisingly good in the dry and allowed plenty of fun.
In the wet they did require extra concentration whilst pressing on through sweepers and hairpins.
Overall we were evenly paced with rarely a big gap between the front runner and back marker.
I have to offer Nick some credit here on his airhead. With soft front forks, drum brake at the rear and single disc up front he did very well to keep up on those steep roads.
I think he is a better rider than he would have you believe. He did though look low down on the bike, while following he looked like an old boy reading a paper in an arm chair (or less politely on a toilet
)Graham started parking his bike on hills.

It soon became time to look for a hotel for the night. We were getting less fussy now and stopped in this grim looking town.
There was a variety to the towns and villages we passed through. From rustic medieval villages where you'd see one lone impassive old man to villages straight out of a spaghetti western. Then there were these places that looked like cold war Russia.
One thing they all had in common was a lack of human life; you hardly saw anyone.

Some went in search of life while others had a private Zumo moment..

As the

rolled through town the message came back there were no rooms for english.
Luckily Howard had rode off ahead and came back with news from a bar about a hotel 3 km out of town.
And what a strange hotel it turned out to be too


















Now that's funny!
That would get a bit much after a week.