The Longest Kilometer, PART 1

March 27, 2008-Thursday 1054hrs.
My apologies for stopping that last cast as abruptly as I did. Eddy came in just as I was completing my description of the beautiful cliffs of Portugal´s Atlantic coast. Now is two days later, and there is even more to catch up on. It may be useful for you just to get used to this format of up to the minute reporting prose followed by flash backs. At least it may be appealing to those of you who like to be kept on your toes.

Presently I am sitting in a green forest situated on a mountainside less than 30km from Barcelona. Eddy is passed out in the back of the station wagon and probably doesnt realise I abandoned him temporarily to escape from heavy traffic and write to you. Eddy was driving all night from SanPedro to somewhere off of Spain´s East coast where he woke me up to watch the sunrise before crashing in the back.

So I have today driven my first 100km in Europe thus finally braving European rotaries. About an hour ago I found myself seeing mountain tops with trees on them. For much of the trip the mountains have been covered in sparse scrub bushes. But this a-dopt from Asheville has lush green in his heart. I found myself moving slow with a long line of traffic stacked up ahead of me, and the engine was getting hot. So when I saw the dirt road leading up into the mountain, I knew what to do.

Now, in the quiet morning, beneath the trees, I can close my eyes for a moment and remember the coast of Portugal -- The wind whistling past my ears, the sun laying warm cutting through the cool hard breeze, the bushy green vegetation at my feet, and waves crashing on jagged rocks 20 meters below.

It was March 8th on a Saturday afternoon. Eddy and I were fresh from a good mid day nap and probably had sardines with bread and cheese that day up on the rock. Perhaps not even a kilometer away from there we found ourselves looking down at Odeceixe from the cliffs above. We were excited to finally make it to Odeceixe. We did not know anyone form there, but we knew someone who knew someone from there. Our good friend Nunno said there was an old friend who had a bar there. He said that when we made it into town we should just ask around and people will know where to send us. We were tired and ready for a break from the trail. I was looking forward to a real bed at least for one night, a shower, a nice meal, possibly some internet time, and good conversation.

Something told me that the weather was changing as well, and it was time to get indoors. Though the sun was still high and bright, the wind was getting colder, and I could see patches of dark clouds above. After a long look at the beach below, we decided we were ready to be on it. But there was a problem... how were we to get down there? Not only was there a cliff we had to climb down, but Odeceixe beach was bordered by the Atlantic ocean to the East, and a 40 meter wide river to the North. We found our way, but it proved to be the toughest km of the whole trip. My tarp still has holes to sew.

The first task was to get off the cliff. There was a dirt road to follow safely somewhere that probably led 3km inland to a bridge... a nice hike through private pasture land into Odeceixe. Eddy decided quickly to abandon that idea. He wanted the beach and before too long would find himself drawing blood to get it. As we walked a little ways down the pasture land road, he kept looking toward Odeceixe, and over the ledge of the rock. He made a couple of attempts along the side of the river from where we stood 20 meters above the beach. However, the cliff face was just too steep to descend with full packs. One or two hectares up stream Eddy

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1154hrs
I just saw, in a window through the trees, that there is still traffic below. So I´ll just sit at the wheel and write. I really want to finish this story. So what was I saying?

Right!

Our packs wer too heavy to climb down steep cliffs to get to the river. But Eddy kept looking for a way down. About 2 or 3 hectars into the pasture, the road had taken us through a tiny forest and away from the ridge of the cliff. Eddy wanted to cross a fence and go check for a good path down. I first of all was not so crazy of taking the hard quick way to the beach. I also am very hesitant about crossing fences. Getting caught tresspassing may be one good way to be thrown out of Shenghen. I told Eddy that he could go scout out the ridge and when he walks a good way down the trail and knows it will work, I´ll risk crossing fenced pasture to suit his fancy.

Eddy crossed the barbed wire fence and returned soon reporting that he had found an old trail. So now I was obliged to keep my word. I threw our bags over and hopped the barb wire fence into lush green grass.

Even though we were far out of sight of the coast the wind was as strong as ever and the tempeature was slowly dropping. The sun was hidden now and the dark clouds were gathering thicker, and as we rounded the pasture standing now just at the trail head, I felt the first drops of rain in two weeks. Rainfall did not actually happen until later on in the evening, but it spent the rest of the afternoon telling us it was coming.

Eddy and I had not got around but the second turn in the trail when it came to an end. I rolled my eyes. We backed up and started again. Eddy leading this time we made it a little further, but only far enough that we decided we did not want to turn back. Had I knew then what I know now, we would have turned back. Soon we found ourselves trapped with thick virtually impassible brush tangled with hard large black berry thorns on all sides. I wasn't cold anymore. I was getting hot and bloodied in the thorny thicket. Occaisionally I could here my tarp snagging on bushes behind me, and I had wondered if it was alright. It is not alright, and to that end I have work ahead of me uninstalling the sprinkler system put in my house that day. Eddy heroically beat down bushes ahead as I followed behind in such an unhelpful way as to say, "Okay, you wanted to go this way, you figure out how to get us through it." I tried to limit ny level of frustration by popping off cheeky remarks concerning our predicament and Eddy did his best to ignore them.

At about half way down the face of the slope (The gradient was scalable now, just completely overgrown), Eddy pulled out his little knife (Oh what we could have done with a machetti!) and began slowly cutting through the bush. At this point our traffic had gone from a slow shuffle to a dead halt. The rest of the way down the slope Eddy and I had to cut our way through the brush. It might as well have been like boaring a path through a bowl of dry spaghetti at least two meters high and two hectars deep.

We found ourself actually crossing a stream under all the scrub, but we did not get wet for the thick vegetation holding us suspended about 20 cm above the ground. On another occaision, we did not know rather to go right or left. That was tricky, because we finally decided on straight. However not before I instructed Eddy right which plunged Eddy into a one and a half meter pit of briars.

Not long (relatively speaking) after Eddy climbed out of the pit, we reached the bottom of the slope... we thought. Now all we had to do was climb through the reeds and we were home free. Climbing through the reeds is easier said than done. I did not know this before, but what I learned that day was that climbing through reeds is not the same as running through a bamboo forest like in the movie