A whole new kind of cycling

A mixture of laziness and planning for moving house meant that I'd run out of anything breakfast appropriate for Sunday, so got up a bit earlier to go to the supermarket before meeting for the bike ride. Just as I'd got comfy with my juice, cereal bars, and bananas, my CS guide from the previous day showed up. Ridiculously punctual for South America, I was nonetheless glad of some company and a familiar face. It wasn't long before quite a crowd of cyclists had amassed, yet my bike still hadn't arrived... Thankfully, I'd been put me in touch with the organisers who were friends of hers and as a result of their patience, 45 cyclists waited an extra 10 minutes whilst my bike and its owners arrived. It would have been nice to look the bike over before shooting off, but having already delayed the group, I made do with pumping the tyres and we were off!

Waiting.

I had a nagging suspicion I might jumped in a bit out of my depth with this one... Beginning with the realisation that everyone had mountain bikes. This wasn't going to be just a gentle ride. But I was reassured by the presence of some other first-timers. Our starting pace along the costanera did nothing to ease my worries, but by this point, I was in it for the long haul. If I had managed to cycle Sainté to Monistrol with no training whatsoever, how much worse could this be? It soon became clear that everyone was just pretty keen to get off the roads and into the hills, since as soon as that happened everyone relaxed a bit. I was also encouraged by the number of people walking up the first hill we came to. Managing to stay on the bike all the way to the top gave me the reassurance I was lacking, and the following descent down a windy tree-lined road reminded me why I love cycling. All was well.

Our first main stop was the desembocadura, where the río Bío-Bío meets the sea.

Black sands...

The weather wasn't great, but as long as we kept moving it wasn't too cold, and the warmth exuding from everyone involved was enough to keep me motivated. I was the only foreigner as far as I could tell, but I felt just as part of the group as anyone else. It was physically and mentally challenging, and we were all in it together. The rain meant that some of the hills were practically impassible on two wheels, resulting in a convoy of dismounted cyclists trudging up muddy paths, evening out the differences in ability. Along the next straight, we overtook a group of poncho-wearing old men on horseback, a stark contrast to our waterproofs and wheels, but in all honesty, probably more appropriate for the conditions!

The further we went, the more interesting the ride became...

It was a long ride. My trip to the supermarket was my saving grace - bananas, cereal bars and chocolate biscuits. Some of the downhill stretches got a bit more technical, and I was pleased that I wasn't the only one walking! By the time we reached Lenga, the small fishing village that was our finishing point for some much deserved empanadas, everyone was exhausted. I was looking forward to sitting down and having a rest, but I was tied to the bike, and it's owners wanted to get back to Concepción. We got some food to go, stood and ate with the bikes and set off to complete the last half hour along the road to Conce. 

Having left the house before 9 and set off on the bikes just after 10, I finally made it home just before 6pm. Achey, exhausted and dirty, but glowing nonetheless. Nature, friendly people, and cycling. Arguably 3 of my favourite things. And not even the weather could spoil that. 

Prize if you spot me