15^th Day 2018 St. Jean-Pied-de-Port to Marlon-Licharre

            The names look like those marriages with hyphenated names.

            In the morning I chatted some more with Asier.  We discussed possible routes.  By the time I left it was close to noon and my stomach was rumbling.  I stopped at the edge of two for a delicious quiche. 

            The ride included two terrifically steep climbs.  The first was on a country lane so steep that I literally pushed the bike up the entire 3 miles.  The descent was scary with twists and bumps.  The bumps worry me the most because they could easily send the bike tumbling. 

            The second was on a better road with slopes falling between 5 and 8 percent.  I walked and used the electric periodically.  I don’t mind the walking.  It reminds me that I am not in any hurry.  The descent was not nearly the white knuckler of the earlier one.   

            I had lunch of muesli, orange juice, and a pear in a small town midway between the start and finish.  Coming out of town I was delayed by a flock of sheep changing pastures.  Even in this heat and on the move one of the sheep was trying to mount the one in front.  The standard sheep dog kept them in line.

            One difference between the restaurants in France and Spain is that the villagers in Spain use the restaurants as a meeting place.  I enjoyed eating and the camaraderie.

            The climbs and the temperatures hovering near 90 took their toll.  The campground in Marlon-Licherre was a welcome sight.  I barely had the energy to unpack half of the equipment before lying down for a rest.

            At the grocery store I picked up a wonderful celery salad that I augmented with fresh peas and tomato.  The main dish was a Basque specialty, a pork stew with peas, onions, carrots, and potatoes in rich gravy.  A small bottle of red wine was the perfect complement.

            After washing clothes and a hot shower, I settled inside the tent.  The campground sits along side a fast flowing river.  All the rivers are swollen from the heavy rains.  This one raced over a bed of rocks creating white caps.  The noise was constant but soothing like sleeping in Gunnar and Logan’s rooms.

Happy Trails to you until we meet again!

Say a prayer for my good friend Gene Gagliardi!

Much joy!!!
Hardy