Rolling hills along roads that never end

I've been horribly negligent of the blog the last 2 weeks, the truth is, as much as I haven't really had time to write and entry I've been equally stumped by figuring out what to write. I rode my bicycle from Garmisch to San Sebastian with my friend Gary, I'm at least sure of that much. I also know that it took us 10 days to cover the 1500km (900 miles). The problem is almost everything after these dry facts turns into a blur. The hours we spent on the bike seemed to blend together after a couple of days, sometimes I was in such pain that getting hit by a car or crashing seemed like an attractive alternative compared to countless hours of riding staring us in the face, I would imagine what it would be like to wake up in the hospital after the accident (Assuming that I lived), to feel a warm and to know that I didn't have to do anything for the foreseeable future. Luckily somewhere around day three or four I defeated this pussy ass part of myself. The bitch in me died crying and screaming, I drowned him out with and Ipod and a handful of gummy candies that have the ability to make me happy no mater what circumstances I find myself in. This is when the trip turned for me, we were already half way through Switzerland and the sun found us for the the first time since we left Garmisch. Without the rain our spirits were flying and my legs remembered how to ride a bicycle the way they used to, I could push as hard as I needed to without cramping or unbearable pain. The road continued to roll out in front of us as we passed into France and headed towards Lyon. In Lyon we stayed with Gary's friend Sidney who was an awesome host and let us drop the majority of our shit at her place. Up to this point we had one bike completely overloaded with excess stuff that we didn't really need, we were taking turns riding the overloaded bicycle but it was still slowing our progress. The day after Lyon felt like the beginning of a new trip, not weighed down by anything we managed to ride about 170km (100 miles) in the first day and the possibility of reaching San Sebastian (800 km from Lyon) in 4-5 days seemed to be within our grasp. All my memories from this part of the trip seem to run at a faster speed than the others. Everyday we would wake up around dawn, roll out of whatever bushes or grass we had slept in the night before and then ride for the next 12 hours or so until it started to get dark, then we would again have to find a place to sleep and wash knowing full well that the same routine was waiting for us in the morning. This was without a doubt the most physical taxing part of the trip, but with the Atlantic on the horizon and only a few days away it felt easier to push through the hard parts, knowing that every kilometer we rode put us that much closer to being able to relax on the beach. On the fourth day after leaving Lyon we started 250km away from San Sebastian and weren't sure where we would end up at the end of the day. We knew it should be relatively flat and had gotten and early start on the day so the beach was very much in sight. Thinking back on it I can hardly remember any of the ride that day until we saw our first sign telling us that our goal was only 60km away. We had a bit less than 3 hours of sun light and had already ridden 190km but there was no question of stopping and finding a place to sleep when we were so close, we pushed on and rode along the coast and passed into Spain. We rolled up to the beach as the sun was setting and sat on a bench watching the waves, we felt rather fucking victorious I might add. It took me until the next day to realize that it was over the reality sunk in as we were sitting on the beach, it was bitter sweet though, I was happy to have a rest but I already wanted to ride my bike again and feel that same sense of adventure and freedom that comes with covering new ground. We spent the next day and a half on the beach until we packaged our bikes and headed back to Lyon to recover our excess stuff. We had another two days in Lyon to mess around and we had a great time with Gary's friend and her dog, I also found a chess club and got to battle some french guys. Then there was another epic all day train ride complete with the usual bullshit. We were happy to be back in Garmisch when we arrived but we realized the past two weeks that had felt like years would be only memories from now on, and try as we might, it would be impossible to really share them with anyone. The struggle of riding a bicycle a long distance is a very internal one, you face for hours at a time of mostly pain and discomfort and when it gets really bad it's just you alone inside your head, it's amazing the weird shit that will come out of your brain when you put yourself in this state. It's also equally amazing how a horrible part of a ride can seem muted and almost enjoyable when you look back at it, as if the suffering you felt then is actually one of the best moments you can remember, when I think back to these times it always makes me laugh and I feel happy. I'm grateful to have had the opportunity to do this, I don't know what else to say, zak

p.s. I know the pics I'm going to post suck but we didn't really take many. We were sadly pretty much all business for most of the time and seldom stopped to take them.