DAMMIT!!!

I was nearly a hundred kilometers from Oliana when, during an instinctive pat of my left jacket pocket, I realized IT wasn't there. Hard on the brakes, over to the shoulder of C-14, even before I began going thru my pockets and then the tank bag, I knew... I'd left my documents at the Hotel True, very likely on the front counter. In the scramble of leaving and having to ask for my passport from the elderly matron, which she retrieved from the box under the counter, paying my bill via Visa and packing my things... I had committed the cardinal road sin.


NOW What? Well it took me just 1 second to answer that question for myself. I had to go back. There was no other logical choice. We Capricorns are the descendents of Vulcans, who had in some centuries past, caused the creation of the Pyramids East and West, our brains work in logic, and logic was telling me that without a phone number, or a phone... I had to make a U turn here and now, and head back. Now I have to tell you, I hate going back. I don't like doing it in relationships, and I don't like doing it on the road. But in this case, it wasn't a simple matter of calling and having the docs sent ahead. Nope... I waited for a break in the bit of traffic I had just moments before, passed and wheeled Piroska around in low gear.

IT was a beautiful morning, sun shining brightly, the perfect road, wide sweepers easily taken in high gear. Good visibility, excellent pavement. I had been travelling at 120-130kph since leaving Oliana, passing vehicles with ease, rarely having to twist the throttle further. I had passed thru several towns of varying size and now found myself increasing my velocity substantially. Except for a quick fuel stop, I was getting dangerously low, my speedo rarely dipped below 120 and frequently saw 140-170. My concern was that perhaps someone had picked up my plastic zip lock, that I kept my International Drivers document and Passport in, or it had been found by the elderly matron and delivered to the Police for... well whatever they do with such things.

IN either case, that would pose a substantial problem. Now those of you that know me well, know... I never panic! After all, once I'd left the stuff there, it was up to fate right? About 12 k out, a car went by flashing his lights. I slowed to 100. After 2-3 km I was beginning to inch up again, when I spotted the the black and white, pulled up on a little side road. He was pointed East, but I didn't take any chances. My next few kilometers was at a 110 kph pace. I didnt need a ticket and having to explain where my DL and Passport were.

ARRIVING, at the True, she recognized me and bagan jabbering in machine gun Spanish, none of which I could follow, and disapearing into an alcove office, I saw here retrieve my baggie from a safe. I hugged her and kissed both her cheeks, I could have proposed to her, I was so relieved!

BACK on the road again... heading in the direction of Zaragoza, tip toeing past the still patient police car.

THRU Ponts and Artesa de Segre for the 3rd time that morning, I pulled off in rising heat at Vilanova de le Barca for a coke and to strip some clothes. My watch was reading nearly noon and over 100F!

WHILE sipping cola from a tiny glass bottle, I got to watch a little MotoGP. Racing in Spain and Euro as a whole, is big time sport. I couldn't get close to the TV sitting on a pedestal behind the bar, from the crowd of men and a few women watching Pedrosa locked in battle with Rossi.

POURING over my maps like some battlefield Colonel, I was thinking I might head up A-2 thru Zaragoza and then, while enroute decide whether to head North to Pamplona or Bilbao. I still hadn't made up my mind if I would forget the West coast completely and head to Normandy, or... alternately, pass on the Channel coast and splash in the Atlantic. My circle tour of the western European continent was not going to happen in the time frame I had allotted for this trip. My constraint was time, and time was quickly marching by. For anyone contemplating such an adventure as mine, I repeat... pick a country or region, and see as much as you can in 3 weeks. We could have very easily spent 3 weeks in Northern Italy! I had planned on a 12000km trek thru Western Europe and even allowing for minimal downtime, it just wasn't going to happen.

RIDING the N-11 parrelling the Autostrada until the outskirts of Zaragoza, I contemplated.

AT the final entrance before reaching the city, I hopped back onto the AP-2, the Peage, and bypassed the city. In Spain, most autoroutes are free, however... the peage routes, as in France, are toll.

THERE were several route choices but as unpredictably as I often operate, I wheeled onto the N-122 heading to Borja.

WEST!!!


THAT'S right... I was heading west towards the Atlantic. The lure of the Ocean was too strong. I was going to Portugal!!!