Vive el Ebro - Episode IV

Alfaro-Castejon-Tudela

A local member takes us for a tour of the sotos, an area often flooded by the river, where a simple plank of driftwood soon becomes a small island, larger, or a peninsula, the river constantly shifting and changing.

We pick fallen peaches along the way.

This morning I’m riding my loaned bike, however I caught a flu the previous night, and congestion keeps me up all night long. I thought that by exercising with the pedals might help strengthen my inmune system, but as we head over to Castejon, I feel weak, and by the time we hit the third power plant, I feel faint and feverish, I lay on the ground to guard from the wind and call Jordi to come back for me with the van, as he is already half way to the small city of Tudela, our next lay over. 

Jordi tells me that his daughter warned him not to mention he’s her father around these parts, since Aida is a known activist for AnimaNaturalis, and these parts are still strong when it comes to animal abuse like bull fighting; so when Aida and her vegan friends come to these parts in buses to do their peaceful demonstrations, they have been received by crowds throwing rocks at them. This also happened in Tordecillas, where another form of torture is big, a few dozen macho guys on horses spear the bull over and over.

The next couple of days are a bit fuzzy for me, when we make it to the poli, I just drop myself onto a large gym mat and sleep for 3 hours straight. When I wake up, we hop on the bikes toward downtown to find a place for dinner.

Tudela- - Pradilla del Ebro

Wilbur and I drive the van behind the bikes, although the first 3 hours I got lost, probably due to the fever. I run into Jon, the illustrator from the Delta, who is also a little lost as he is searching for the boats, so we hang out for an hour or so, chatting about graphic novels and Zeitgeist.

I find the bikes, but I don’t remember much, I just collapse again when I make it to Pradilla del Ebro. Never even saw the poli, rather stayed and camped in the park. There was a soccer field and a town swimming pool next to the park, were a bunch of the group went, but I just wanted to sleep.

A quiet evening, Polet was teaching some people how to play “virles”, a very old moorish game and predesesor of bowling.

Adrian from Cantabria arrives, he left home on Sunday and just today rode an unbelievable 200 kms.

I also meet Leo and Juan, they came from Malaga.

Pradilla del Ebro-Zaragoza

I told everyone I was not driving or riding today, simply sleeping. The group takes off, Jordi is driving, first we acompany a girl from Huelva and her bike to catch a bus in Pedrosa, as she needs to get back to Alfaro, where she left her car a few days ago.

Then we go to Cabañas de Ebro to wait for the boaters, and we find out they’ll be about 3 hours, so we have some lunch at the one and only bar in town, and we go to take a long nap by the river. Wilbur wakes me up to let me know the boats have arrived. Jordi helps unload bikes and load boats to procede to Zaragoza, which is the largest city along the Ebro river; much larger than I remember it. Someone went nuts overbuilding here, the area where we are staying is by the Expo, huge modern design pavillions with hanging gondolas, are empty, unused, such a waste.

3 days here in the big city, so hopefully I will start to feel better in order to enjoy it. We unload the van and head straight to downtown area in hopes to find a store open to buy some ground meat for Wilbur and a Pharmacy to get some sea water to clear my congestion, but keep in mind that the stores close between aproximately 2pm-5pm, it’s 4.30pm now and we need to be by under the Third Millenium Bridge at 5.30pm. Jordi takes the opportunity to visit a customer for a repair that takes only 10 minutes, and we find the sea water next door.

The guy who the group arranged to rent the canoes from for a river protests, screws up the evening and leaves me in charge of watching over 27 bikes. Fortunately the sea water and other magic potions (provided by Patxopa) are starting to take effect, and while still tired, I no longer feel fever, at least for a while. Jordi leaves to find food for Wilbur.

4 hours later the bike owners show up, grateful for keeping their bikes and recognizing the canoe people didn’t keep their promise to deliver the bikes down the river. By this time I was upset and more tired, but it got worse, as the same screw ups had also told us they would bring back Jordi’s canoe, and abandoned it somewhere along the river, and we spent another +hour trying to find it in the dark.

Zaragoza

Due to what happened yesterday and taking in Concha’s advice (who I miss dearly, as she went back home to Logono), I began this day with the word “no”, which is what I said to MariAsu when she asked for my bike this morning.

Ignoring what the plan was today, the fever was gone now, Jordi and I went to town with the bikes to find a spot for breakfast, after which we found the Aljaferia, an old moorish castle, that has suffered may sad “remodels” over the years. We decided to pay the entrance fee 6 euros, toured the palace and ran into Javier and Miguel Angel from out group. As we exited, we also ran into Samuel and Maite, who gave us a great suggestion for lunch, Casa Emilio.

After a short siesta at the poli, we take the canoe down river to take some photos. At one point some strong cross currents almost tip us over, I was able to convince Wilbur not to jump out. By chance we happen to join the rest of the group down river, by the stone bridge, as they were just starting the pirate water war, followed by an assembly in la plaza directly behind el Pilar, the renown cathedral. Juan Carlos, a local farmer joins us, and talks to us about the problems with seeding crops due to climate change, in March can cause rotting during flowering due to flooding, April also can cause freezing if only for a single night, some farmers have even been seeding in September; regardless they average at least 20% losses. We also talk about 400% increase in phosphates and nitrates, controlled by China, and the problems caused by “transgenicos”, Aragon Region is the area of Spain with the most, and how the contaminate other farms.

Vive el Ebro - Episode III

Logroño-Arrubal-Logroño

Found my camera, yeah!

Today is my saint day, July 16th, I hopped on the bike this morning, but a series of unfortunate events forced me to stay at behind at the Poli; and since we are staying here another night, I took the oportunity to do some laundry and enjoy some great conversations with akin people. Marisa, the MD from Santander, with whom we shared laughter and stories, left behind a paper with a beuatiful fairy legend of how the Delta was formed, as she is going home today, with hopes to rejoin the group further down river, and she did not find the right moment to read the story, so she left me in charge to pass it along; which I will do later this evening.

La leyenda de las hadas del Ebro

Around 6pm a group of us made it to a nearby swimming pool to cool off, and later at 8pm to the embarcadero to see aspectacular show, super energetic, funny and involved group of Batukada. I was mesmerized.

Later, around 10pm, we made our way to a small street downtown, “Calle de los Baños”, to the center of the CNT, the local anarchist group, who invited us to a delicious vegan dinner; each individual had to serve him/herself, clean your own dish and cup, and store your chair when done. After dinner the same space, that was actually an old theatre, became the evening entertaint, with a very unique group of musicians, the drums were all made from recycled parts (frying pan, empty containers, etc), and their music was versatile: punk, rock, flamenco, pop, etc; and the performance was hilarious and fun.

Logroño-Lodosa-Calahorra (64kms)

Morning light rain, Iosu (Ibai’s dad, who left due to his injuries) came with me in the van, because the steering on his bike is broken and since today is Sunday, he can’t find anything open. I don’t want to miss the visit to the Würth Museum, that the group did yesterday morning; so we head out there, followed by Maria Antonia who also missed it, as she hurt her wrist and has decided to head back home to Valladolid, where at 63 has an organic vineyard, struggling to bottle her wine.

Würth is a very popular hardware manufacturer (nuts and bolts), who has an extensive collection, and much like the Getty Family, believe art should be available to everyone, so it is also free admission, they even have a free shuttle to Logroño.

I’m told the exhibits change, they have one area where they displays chronologicaly, one piece of each year the company has been in business since 1930 to date. I was in awe of the entire visit, both the building which is next to the factory, in an industrial area, and the exhibit are fabulous.

We said goodbye to Maria Antonia and made our way to Lodosa, where the town had prepared a delicious stew picnic by the river. Lodosa is known to be the world capital of the bell pepper, pimiento.

After lunch the cyclists moved on to Calahorra, the vegetable capital, while the support vehicles at Iosu’s request made way to Sartaguda, also known as the widow town, where Franco killed all men of all ages and buried the on the side of the road, brutalizing women, some of which also died; and till very recently were these families allowed to dig up their bones and give them proper burials and build a memorial in their honor. They were killed because the church didn’t like free-thinkers, as all working class whether farmers or factory workers were anarchists in nature when the facists began the civil war. Being there was terribly sad, I had goosepumps and tears.

In Calahorra, we all enjoyed dinner at the youth hostel, provided by Guillermo, the local ecologista member. After dinner half of the group left to the next small town as there were not enough beds for everyone.

Calahorra-Rincon de Soto-Alfaro (38kms)

The cyclists followed Guillermo for a tour of the organic produce farms.

Iosu went to the local bike store to get his bike fixed.

Nerea hopped on the van with me, and we followed Annelies to the next stop, Rincon de Soto, known for it’s pears.

Next to Alfaro, currently celebrating it’s baroque festival, by the time we get to the “polideportivo”, Nuria and Patxopa are cooking up a delicious organic meal for lunch.

Jordi and I went for iced coffee at the town square, observing the fabulous cathedral, we were surprised to see storks all over the roofs. The town people tell me they are there all year but for one month when most, not all leave.

In the evening we all take off for critical mass, Wilbur follows on foot; and stopping to talk to town folk, who are wonderfully receptive; one woman asks if we can stop in Castejon, where 3 power plants are located; I assure her we will; another elderly woman wants to know if she can be of help, and offers two spare beds in her home; I assure her we are well taken care of.

We all climb up to the vista point for a better look at the storks, where Carlos (Bruno and Violet’s dad) gives us a bit of background on stork behaviour; white storks , like the ones we are seeing are group birds, while black storks are loners that stay by the river beds. Concha tells us how they came up with the idea to place supports for the nests, as the weight, up to 500kgs, as they build over the old nests, was becoming a problem for the church roof.

After dinner, a few of us went to visit the Miniature Bicycle Museum, located inside an asador restaurant. I told the owner about an old newspaper article that my grandfather showed me, from 1931, where my grandmother Adela was mentioned as this first woman to compete in a cycling race. He asked if I could send him a copy for the museum, but sadly that was stolen and lost along with the rest of my heritage by my mother’s evil sister.

I have to say though, my grandmother hated riding bikes, think how bikes used to be, wooden seats, no suspension or gears; but she did it to please my grandfather.


been working on my photo album

Vive el Ebro - Episode II

Escalada-Trespaderne

I lost my sunglasses (sorry Beth) and my camera between yesterday and today.

10 years down the road, this is the day everyone will remember. The first long ride, the first  time the group is split, most taking a low a wild single track, while others took took to the hiway with 15% steep climb, and the first day of pouring rain. Needless to say most bikers were cold and miserable, and support vehicles, including myself had a long day helping out.

Today I met Jon, from Bilbao, a lovely man, musician on his way out; as it happened, he did not have any rain gear, so when he reached me, he was so cold he changed to dry clothes and stayed in the van with me. He offered to drive the van, which was unfortunate, as that was when the “Guardia Civil” appeared and handed him a ticket for driving to slow. We had to protect our bikers from crazy speeding trucks, for only 4 kms the group was forced to take a hiway. While authorities along the way have been quite collaborative, this was a very young brain-dead asshole, that was thriving on power abuse, and putting a damper on the day, apparently the rain was not enough.

Regardless, the scenery was amazing the entire way, but because of the extra time needed, as the group found a bar to seek refuge waiting for the rain to slow down, by the time we reached Trespaderne and had dinner, the afterdinner roundtable was near midnight.

Trespaderne-Frias-Miranda de Ebro (57 kms)

This morning was also rainy, not as much. It was important to keep the group together, as arriving in Frias, a gorgeous medieval town in a perfectly maintained castle, the local ecolistas group was waiting for us to do a brief presentation on  Pueblos de Transicion (Transition Towns, only not Rob Hopkins TT, while they have a few similarities, this is based on a book written by Pablo, one of the guys in our group, and is much more political in nature).

An hour later we ride together with the locals, just a mile down the road, to Garoña, a very well guarded nuclear power plant, where we stood to protest and had local news groups to report.

The rain stopped in time for an outdoor picnic lunch. Jordi drove the van in the afternoon, to give me a chance to ride the bike, and conditions were good for me (sun, downhill, short mileage).

Arriving in Miranda de Ebro, we rode around critical mass, and came to the main plaza to join the 15M group (May 15 was the day people through social networks occupied plazas all over Spain, calling themselves, us, “indignados”) to open conversations and talk about different issues. Followed by a little food.

Miranda de Ebro-Haro-Baños de Ebro (50 kms)

Today I’m riding a bike, the entire day along the river and grape vines, and Jordi can catch up on some work, phone calls. We took a 5 kms detour, to stop and protest a dirty quarry just before our first stop is in Haro, the epicenter of the Rioja region, plenty of good wine, and a different variety of tapas, which I love to try out.

We gather in the main plaza/town square, and sing our Ebro song for the first time, created by Marta, an energetic and very positive soul from Madrid, femenist group, and teacher to teen kids. I made another elderly freind, who told me how a small town was forced out when they placed the quarry and messed up the river. Then we went wine tasting, in the famous small street, and enjoyed some different kind of tapas, rolls made with hot peppers and a ball of sheep stomach.

My younger freind Carlos (9yr old), who enjoys speaking english with me, injured his shoulder, so he, his bike and his 7month old puppy Draco jumped in the van with Jordi. I forgot to mention that Draco had one of his toes amputated yesterday, as he caught his foot in the spokes of his mom’s bike when he unexpectedly jumped out of his basket.

The group had left by the time Mamen and I got back to the plaza, but a small group of 8 stayed behind with Julio, our local guide, and we found them having more wine, which made for a very entertaining ride, as I discovered Marisa “la Medica de Cantabria”, is hilarious, and a fan of graphic novels like myself, as I saw her wearing a Tshirt of her own creation with El Corto Maltese.

We continued on to the castle town of San Vicente de Sonsierra, which is known for an anarchist revolt of 33, but more so for the Picaos of Good Friday (flogging). Lunch at the main plaza, after which we visited the castle walls, where we observed some odd looking flues/vents by the ground floor of the stone homes, which we found out are venting the wine storage caves below. An old roman bridge stands dividing La rioja and Navarra.

Back on the bikes, now towards Baños de Ebro, which is actually back in the Pais Vasco, as the river twists and turns, and we camped out by the town municipal swimming pool.

Baños de Ebro-Los Ciegos- Fuenmayor-Logroño

Back in the van along with my injured companions Carlos and Ibai. Yes Ibai fell hard yesterday and received some nasty scrapes, luckily we happen to have a couple of doctors and a vet in the group.

We stopped by an old little church by the side of the road for lunch, and while some were practicing the old art of “siesta”, much needed in order to avoid the hottest time of day, others, like myself were having a “styling” session, as Mamen, is not only a mom to Carlos and puppy Draco, but she is also a hair stylist of 30 years, that was forced to retire early due to chemical sensitivity, some people know it as “bubble boy syndrome”, and she often wears a breathing mask, when surrounded by people wearing shit like perfumes, soaps, detergents, etc. She’s considering dropping out because she’s afraid that more bad juju may happen after Draco’s amputation and Carlos’ dislocated shoulder.

Polet, Josep and Jon came from the Delta with their traditional hand made wooden boats, a unique design flat bottom from the Delta area, which is famous for it’s fertile land and excellent cooking rice. They 

started in Fontibre, and have been following the route with us on the river, although they have many obstacles along the way. Jordi, and I joined them this evening with the canoe on the river for another manifesto, where later the 

bikes that had been riding around the city of Logroño and joined by the local group, will join us along the pedestrian bridge. Polet, who is a neverending source of stories, told us about this simple weed many uses throughout it’s lifespan; when young it will feed sheep, later it will hide insects and spiders that feed the birds, older it serves as cooling shade, and he makes these awsome tiny boats.

We made it to the Poli by 

11pm, tired and hungry, road our bikes to the “Casco Antiguo” for a bite. We couldn’t believe our eyes when we saw the sea of people “picoteando” (eating tapas and drinking wine), each bar specializing in some food (mussels, jamon, etc).

Vive el Ebro - Episode I

oh boy! oh boy! oh boy!... do I have loads to share with y’all. I didn’t take my laptop with me, cause I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to plug it in; a note book and a pen (although pens became coveted throughout the journey, as they kept dissapearing), otherwise it would have been impossible to remember what, when. who and where. I wil split it up in chapters in order to make it easier for you and for me.

The Road to Reinosa (Santander)

After picking me up at 7.30am, Jordi and I headed to Calafell, where Rafa (Rafael) and Sole (Soledad) joined us on out trip northwest on old hiway N232. A truckstop for lunch, as we drive through the “Monegros” an extensive and very arid area, similar to the Ariizona dessert, which used to be covered in trees once upon a time, till some brilliant head decided to clear cut them all down, in order to build the famous “Armada Invencible”, the spanish flotilla of 200 ships, that was obliterabed in a storm before have the chance to fight Nelson.

As we aproach Cantabria, the flatness becomes green mountains. We arrived just after 9pm, in time for dinner, an “olla ferroviaria” (railroad stew pot) offered to us by the town of Reinosa, served at the “Polideportivo” (Poli for short) is a sport center/gym that became the single bedroom that 100 of us shared. We will sleep in these type of facilities for most of the trip.

Reinosa-Fuentibre-Reinosa

Since we are going back to Reinosa this evening, we left our things at the Poli, and the vans, we all road bikes and Wilbur ran alongside. 

There ‘s also a group of walkers, about 30 people that leave an hour earlier. First we gathered in the town square and received the Tshirt to wear at the events. The ride to Fuentibre, the birthplace of the Ebro river, was an easy one, just under 4 miles each way. We took sediments from the river, and had our first lecture on the importance of sediments flowing down the river to maintain a balanced ecosystem. This town also provided an “olla ferroviaria” for lunch, which has loads of calories needed for biking.

On our way back, we took a detour to a lovely pond created by an abandoned iron mine. Since I was riding in the back of the group, to prevent Wilbur getting from getting in the way of the other bikes, by the time I got there everyone was skinny dipping in this cool and clear water, just awesome. 

Next we stopped to visit an old hermit. 

A brief stop at the Poli, and of again down river in Reinosa for a lecture with Eduardo, a local environmental engineer, who told us some of the problems created in the area by unknowledgeble contractors that recanalized the river to the size of their excavators, two combined side by side 25 meters wide, while the actual width of the river varies from 100 to 300 meters. Later in the evening we watched a documentary that narrated Franco’s brilliant (not) idea to build a massive dam, to supply water, or as he called it gold, to the areas along the river further south in the Rioja area, and flooding 3 small towns in the process, where most inhabitants simply drowned. The story told by a few survivors from those towns, people who are still waiting and will never receive an apology or recognition to what happened to their families, their homes, their towns, or any so called “gold”.

Reinosa-Polientes (51 kms)

After the bikes and walkers left, and before taking off to the next stop, an elderly man walked by, and he asked what we were doing there; I explained, and he aksed if anyone told us about what they did to the “political prisoners” they had stashed away there, how they had non or very little clothing and no shoes. I told I saw the documentary earlier, and saw how they used them to build the dam. He then pointed to the wall behind me and said that was the wall they used shoot them when they were no longer useful, he used to wake up at dawn everyday to the sound of the firing squad. It was the church he said that would claim anyone they did not like, free thinkers who did not attend mass would be treated as political prisoners. Everyone was afraid of the church.

We picked up lunch in Villanueva and drove it a couple of miles to a picnic area, where everyone cooled of in the river. Diego, our fearless basque leader, had to go rescue Wilbur, as he threw his stick down river instead of up river without realizing Wilbur would go after it and would be taken by the current.

The bus that had brought the walking group from Madrid 2 days earlier was now picking them up, so they could all resume work on Monday.

Today is San Cristobal, the patron saint of Polientes, so we were able to join the locals in their celebration. 1 euro for a pot stew plus a nice piece of delicious Empanada Gallega served by folk in the town square. Most of us left early in order to get up early the next day.

Polientes-Escalada (24 kms)

Escalada is the most beautiful town so far. Guido, the local member was busy cooking a large meat stew and a large vegeterian rice with organic produce for lunch.

Shortly after the local baker (from a few towns over) came with her van filled with breads, empanadas, pastries, jams and other goodies for us to buy.


Guido asked us to pick as many cherries as we could to take with us.

Lunch was served by the town pond where the children were plaing and splashing. After Guido stories and a shortl siesta, we were all free to take small trips here and there; some of us went to the “pozas”, ponds created by lime and sediments, the water uncertain origen, comes from a cave. 


The water here is freezing cold, yet looks so good you have to do it.

Just above these pozas, where the cave is located, is the town of Orbaneja, which attracts local tourism. Now, I know I said Escalada was the most beautiful town, but that was before I saw Orbaneja. 

We were told that this town was occupied by the people who worked for the local nobles, that gathered in another nearby town. 2 euros is the entry fee to “la Cueva del Agua”, located in the center of town, the cave that provides water to the ponds below.

After dinner we gathered for our first “asamblea” (roundtable) to discuss water and other relevant issues.