This is part two of an ongoing project that’s taking me and my DR350 from Germany to Portugal, up to Scotland and back home – mostly following the TET. These are simply the Facebook TET Group posts I have posted along the way – reposted here for posterity.
There’s a mousse loose aboot this hoose.
Here we go again. Feels like only last week I was slogging my way through soggy France on my way to Barcelona. Now I’m back and reunited with my beloved DR350, Poe. Destination Algarve. Back and armed with a Patented Professional Particularly Pricey Pneumatic Puncture Prevention Plan. Probably. After three punctures in two days on the last trip I thought I’d just bite the bullet and go mousse, expensive and a pain to fit – but indestructibility has it’s appeal.
I’d initially planned to jam them into the existing wheels, running MT21s but when I found a spare wheel set at home and discovered that getting the right mousse for a specific tyre is an exercise in luck I decided on new Michelin Trackers with appropriately sized Michelin “Bib” mousses. Which all went together with basic hand tools shockingly easily. I then sent the whole thing by Dodgy Parcel Delivery, because they take odd sized boxes and spent ten days praying they wouldn’t deliver them to some randos veranda in Kazakhstan.
Reunited with bike and fully assembled wheels the rear went on in a flash. The front went “ting” when I put the axle through. It went “ting, ting, ting” after that. I swore. A memory surfaced. The TE610 had two different axle sizes. Closer examination proved what a lifetime of experience in the bedroom taught me. You can’t fit a big, hard rod into a hole that’s too small for it. Off out I went in search of bearings with a 25mm inner diameter, finding and fitting took the whole morning – with help from a very skilled local mech, who knocked up a spacer for me.
With that I stuffed the luggage in, took dip in the Med and was on my way. Next salty swim will be in the Atlantic. The first step was a street ride to Tremp, to visit the former Spanish linesman Simon. Google said two and a half hours. It took five. Getting used to the mousses (mousse? moussen?) was taking a while. A properly sized Michelin mousse is equivalent to one bar, which kind of feels like a springy, spongy flat. Add that to the Trackers being the most aggressive tyre in tread and compound I’ve ever used and it’s a funny feeling. Leaning over to any significant degree in a corner is an act of faith and it took me a while to find mine.
Essentially, on the street, it feels like everything is moving beneath you. Because it is. It takes quite some getting used to.
After a meal, some fine hospitality and a good night’s sleep I got to try the funky foamy things on the trail. Wow. That takes even more getting used to. I’m used to 1.8 bar for everything and recently mostly MT21s. This plushie pneu bounces off of everything and feels really strange. Disconnected somehow. I’m not sure I like it. That feeling lasts until the evening, when I’m hitting some slightly trickier trails.
Looking back on three days on them, I’m in love. I’m used to the feeling on the road, don’t even notice anything odd any more. On the trail you just have to step up the confidence a little, you need a little more momentum to counteract that deflecting bounce. If you’ve got that it’s utterly liberating. Rock step? Don’t care, can’t get a pinch flat. Pointy stuff? Don’t care. Ghastly thick clay mud so deep it ate an africa twin. Easy as autobahn, really. Broken bottle from someone’s wild camp? Irrelevant. Sand? Straight through, 118.
For anyone who’s thinking about using them – they are not suitable for novices. You need to be at the point where a little bit of appropriate speed doesn’t bother you and comfort with the bike moving around underneath you is essential. You can’t carve canyons on the twisties. Fuel economy drops a bit. But if you’re good with all that – Viva la Bib.
Oh, yeah, I also rode some trails. Mountains, a weird desert, some single track – which I thought was illegal in Espana. But I’m trusting the lack of signage and the linesmen here. Nobody seemed to mind – in fact on the insanely tricky bit a lady asked if she could take my photo.
Immediately after Tremp, heading west on S14, it’s mostly easy going for a day. Beautiful, glorious river valleys, some small water crossings. Nothing to cause alarm. My second day on the trails started North of Huesca in the Guara NP. Don’t skip it for the shortcut, it’s very pretty – but after a stunning view down into the flatlands is a very rocky, incredibly narrow, steep descent. It’s not dangerous because there’s nothing to fall off of, unless you take a stupid line, but it’s serious single-track steepness and I’d be shocked if an ADV would even fit through some of it – especially if it was an ADV with big boxes or silly sticky-out cylinders. Big bikes definitely only in groups, if at all.
Now, here’s the thing. Next I made a dash for the Bardenas Reales desert. I’m not sure how I feel about that. It is pretty cool. I was going that way anyway, so it’s not like it was a detour… but it’s not quite as cool as I’d hoped. Maybe because I’ve ridden the Sahara and Atacama already. Doing the loop to the south is cool, it’s definitely worth it if you don’t already know “proper” deserts. But it’s not fun riding – it’s eating motorhome dust, dodging grumpy ebikes and going fast on straight flat gravel. It’s a unique landscape though, so yeah – worth it. What is pretty cool is the in between zone as you are entering the desert – arable farming in a desert is a very odd thing to see. “Ooh, arrrr, where’s me combine ‘arvister. Aats me orf to harvest the desert.”
I’m writing way too much. Nobody is going to read this. As a test… what tyres are best for the TET? Some final notes before I sign off… Not all Harley guys are bad, I camped with some good ones second night. My 350 is burning/leaking/disappearing oil at an alarming rate, I’ve no idea at all what’s causing it – a litre to every 400km. I’m now pretty tired, so it’s bed time. Goodnight everyone!
The Peak-Ooohs
Poor planning leaves me sitting in a bar writing this. This thing of food only being available after 2000 is, honestly, a pain in the hoop for organising the day. That’s it for complaints though, I’ve spent the last two days in the Picos on the famed “northern loop”. This fame is well deserved.
Honestly I was getting a little bit snarky after the Bardenas Reales. Some of the ride there was a little bit this “trail riding for the sake of it”. I had that feeling sometimes I could have just as happily taken the road. That suspicion that in the search for legal non paved routes anything was acceptable, as long as it was sans-tarmac. Which isn’t really fun. I do like trail riding, but when it’s hot and I’m tired I need more than just a bumpy road with a few rocks on it – I need a reason to be up there on that trail.
I got to Medina de Pomar and it was decision time. North route or south? Now, I know all the cool kids just post a screenshot and ask “wHicH ro0t iz Mo$T oFfRoaD??? lolz” but you see that little magnifying glass up the top right. Me, I used that. Plus my own brain and OSM. I chose north. But cutting off the north east corner, because that’s not the Picos and frankly, time constraints.
Cutting the corner led me to a stonking great lake that, other than a few cows, I had entirely to myself. Stripped, swam and soaped. The wind had me dry in moments. Nice not to smell like a walking corpse and it was a gorgeous experience. Onwards then, to those Picos.
Up, up, up and up we go. What do we find at the top? Endless green fields, cows, horses… it’s that spectacular alpine vista that is the stuff of dreams. All pleasantly warm and under a glorious blue sky. Mostly easy trails – but I don’t mind that. If I was in this for a challenging trail I’d take up riding in circles at the local enduro track. I’m not. I want a spectacular view, an occasional challenge, progress towards somewhere and the feeling I’m not somewhere everyone and their grandmother goes. Delivered, in spades.
If Monday delivered then Tuesday handed over the package with a golden handshake. Up at the crack of dawn, on the trail in the fog at the crack of… erm, well, when I finished putting the hammock away. Fog. I was a little worried about this. I had a foggy morning earlier in the week. Not great views. But up up up I rode and out of the fog. Then I think I was taking more photos than I was riding kilometros. Up above the clouds I was in heaven. The valleys were full of marshmallow, the hills green as soylent and the sky blue as a commonly used wireless communication standard.
My metaphors, I should add, were as beautiful as a used paving slab snapped in two.
But there’s something about this environment that really does stir my soul. Up above the tree line, up above the clouds. I love this mixed grazing. Cows with calves, horses with foals – all guarded by big dogs who think they are much more intimidating than they really are. The animals are clearly used to us, some don’t even get up as I ride past with less than a meter to spare. Some are curious. The young ones either play together or hide behind mum. Mostly they play.
This is what I came here for. Honestly I worry for the rest of the trip, this may be the highlight that sets everything else in the shade.
One and a half trails were challenging today. Later in the day I had a very steep, very loose descent that was a little hair-raising, but maybe I’m just tired. In the morning my rear wheel took the controversial decision to give in to it’s jealousy of the front one and try to go first for a change. This whole trail was tough. I was coming out of a hairpin in rocky conditions, I think my right hand slipped and whooooooop all of a sudden the bike was on it’s side and facing 180 from the intended direction of travel. At exactly this point about ten guys on serious enduro bikes appeared. Couldn’t have happened in the other 800km where nobody was around, obviously. That’s two drops so far.
But, Poe is magic and actually gets better by crashing. The right hand side pannier mount was a little squiffy from a drop in France a few weeks back but wasn’t hitting anything so I left it that way. Now it’s straight! Explain that, how can it bend back out by dropping a 130kg bike on it?
I got to play the hero today too. Superman, me. Those who’ve been here will know the trail that goes through the very heart of the Picos NP. It’s spectacular, but there are quite a few people there and it somehow feels touristy. So other than a few quick shots I blasted through, enjoying passing quite a few nervous looking big ADVs on the way. Until the way was blocked by Oscar. Oscar has the strength of Atlas. I found him holding his insanely overloaded Voge 900 parallel to the trail while his partner had walked down the track to get help from the vanlifers a little down the track.
He must have been holding the massive thing there for a quarter hour. This thing had big rollbags on all three alu cases. A Challenger 2 is probably lighter. So off I hopped and got him pointed in the right direction. That direction being away from the trail and back to civilization!
An hour later I was nursing a Cerveza sin Alcool at a bar and they stopped. I had myself a second beerski on them. It’s been a great day. I’m ready for a day off the bike, but that’s not in the timetable. I’ve still got Galicia and the whole of Portugal ahead of me. In seven days. Something’s gotta give.
The Tail of the Picos
So, that’s the northern picos trail complete. Sadly, as I have a flight to catch from the Algarve I’ve had to skip Galicia for this trip and make a run for Portugal. Last time I wrote about 7 and the eastern part of 6. Now I’m looking back at the western part of 6 and 5.
My memories are a little bit of a blur, if I’m honest. It’s been more of the same, essentially – if perhaps not quite as dramatic. Down in the valley, climb up a bit, cows and horses, back down, miss repeat. All very beautiful, all quite manageable without problems on my 350 – but nothing sticks out enough to mention. Other than the tail end of section 5.
That’s a long trail. 60km without any paved road. 60km of up, down, up, down, up, down. I’ve ridden rollercoasters that are more level going. This section is steep and occasionally loose. Anyone who’s lacking experience or on really crappy tyres might want to avoid it – especially considering how far from help you could be if it goes wrong.
350, Michelin Trackers, excellent suspension, no worries. I just plodded my way though with minimal drama. But if your weight/traction/momentum ratio isn’t up for it you could be in for a long old day.
The northern loop, of which everyone speaks…. excellent. The trails make sense, they’re epic, the views are too die for. Some minor challenges, but nothing that’ll ruin your day or slow you down too much. Having ridden the TET from Romania to, well, here it’s a definite highlight.
One mystery is puzzling me though. Everywhere along the way I’m drinking perfectly acceptable coffee made on manually operated coffee machines. Same as in Italy. Costs nearly nothing, never fails to scratch the coffee itch. So my question is – what the fudge is wrong with home in Germany. I’ve not seen a single combined, touchscreen operated, does it in one coffee machine in a week. It’s no coincidence that I’ve not had a truly bad coffee all week.
Germany, I love living in you, but sort your coffee game out. It’s tragic.
Portuguese Paradise
Sometimes this wild camping thing just works. I’ve had a few good ones this trip, but I write this laying in my hammock, surrounded on almost all sides by a reservoir. In no direction can I see so much as a light. I hear no traffic, no talking, nothing except fish jumping in the water all around me. Above me are the canopies of tall trees, silhouetted against a moonlight sky. Perfect.
That’s a wrap for my time on the Portuguese TET. I joined just west of Chaves with not insignificant trepidation. I’ve been told it’s one of the toughest TETs around, the crazy enduro bike riding group I met in Spain told me it’s hardcore enough that some poor fool lost a finger on it. Ouch. Hope I don’t find it.
Looking back on much of sections 1, 2 and 3… they’re not really wrong. They’re also not quite right. It’s a funny one. Most of the time it’s your every day, easy going trail route. Then all of a sudden it decides it wants you dead. After which it’s back to being besties. If you survive.
Fortunately most of the tricky bits are marked, those markings are to be taken seriously. Especially the one which says “rock steps”. That’s 500m of damn hard going… I’m happy I met it in the morning while everything was nice and cool. Still managed to drop the bike and fall down a cliff a little bit though. I wout not recommended anyone do it alone, or anyone except Graham Jarvis do it uphill.
I mean. I did it alone. But I’m stupid.
There are also as good as no “no entry” signs anywhere here. If there is a trail you can damn well ride it. Finding your way around anything you don’t like the look of is child’s play.
I’d also suggest being elective with the TET here unless you’ve essentially unlimited time. The route zigzags all over the place, east to west, making progress slow if you are trying to get south. It also links areas of outstanding trail riding with sections of very average trail riding. The first bit of the northern loop, S1, was great. Then between there and the Douro valley it was choppy bits of trail between short road sections. Often with that “the road probably has better views” feeling. Then you hit the vineyards and the big river valley and boom – the trails are glorious and the effort of riding them makes sense again.
Then you take a look at the relief map, your route goes back into relatively flat land – unremarkable, choppy trail and road mix. I’ve a quicker alternative route, that avoids any nasty stuff, which made more sense after the vineyards – until I got to Trail Riding Heaven.
That’s going to be my name for the Serra de Estrela. I don’t think I’ve ever encountered, in such a small space, such a mix of terrain. Grassland, heather, rocks, sand – the works. Rivers to bathe in, waterfalls to shower underneath. It’s a small area, so you’re always in reach of something to eat or drink if you fancy it. The TET is mostly easy going, with a few exceptions but they’re easy enough to identify and predict. The aforementioned “rock steps” are also to be found here. I could spend two more days here and probably not get bored.
The start of Portugal had me worried. I’d taken a night in a hotel to freshen up and regenerate, looking back on the glorious Picos I was kind of expecting hard work and disappointment. The first half day did kind of fulfill that expectation. Then, boom. This really has been as good as the Picos.
Food has been beyond glorious. I’ve had stew to die for, steaks the size of a GSA, chicken BBQed before my eyes, perfect pastries and quality coffee all the way. Usually for next to nothing.
A very minor technical note. Every petrol station in Spain had motorcycle oil of some kind. So due to my stupid aversion to doing maintenance on the road* I’ve just been topping up as I go. Portugal is not the same. To the extent that this morning, with not a little concern for slippery clutch plates, I threw a litre of 15w50 car oil in there. So far, no ill effects.
I’m going to follow my easy route down to the Algarve now. Probably. The weather is changing, I’ve had a couple of cool days. Today stepped up to bathing weather. Tomorrow it’s going to be hot. Tuesday and we’re going to be able to melt the one ring. So I’m sticking to the easy stuff. Then it’s the flight back on Thursday and I’ll reunite with Poe in December for the new TMT.
I’ll probably post one final update from this trip, looking back and some of the technical stuff like how the mousse and tyres held up.
*This really is a vice of mine. I lost one of the bolts holding the seat on a week ago. When I noticed there was actually a pile of old bolts next to where I was sitting I pocketed an M8. But a cable tie was easier to get to than a wrench, so I used that. Because obviously I can’t get out a wrench… that would take a whole six minutes!
Final Notes
The bike was burning oil badly during this trip, up to a litre a day. It’s now in for repair in Portugal while I am here at home – thanks to James for organising that. Hopefully it’ll be back in good shape for December!