From the uniquely positioned restaurant which is already 600 feet above the trailhead, we took this photograph
of the peak. Having a cup of tea after returning from the top, overlooking the small lake, and resting before returning
to the trailhead provided a feeling of tranquility and much joy in being alive. The many adrenaline flows didn't
hurt at the time either. Sure beats rearranging deck chairs.
Turning around at lake level: a view from the patio.
To reach the top of El Cubil Petit involves some serious climbing...the essence of Hike-about and challenges it presents.
Jenni has just passed the ledge after a stiff climb and now begins the second of three sections. On the day, she was in
superb form. She had no fear to my one period of being a little 'nippy'. Score 0:1 but who's counting?
Jenni catches a shot of the bottom...I mean at the top.
Reaching the peak and viewing the glorious surroundings including the lake adjacent to the restaurant. Obviously a different and usually thrilling perspective.
Hat off to the editor on a flawless climb.
Landscapes like this 'knock' one out but hopefully not over the top.
Wherever one looks there's a ski slope with lifts but no snow. What gives?
The laid back look on the anything but petite El Cubil.
Well, if there's not an easier way up, I'll try flying down. This position is prior to the final ascent to
the first of three peaks.
I'd like to say the 'Eagle' has landed but that would be most unoriginal.
I forgot about the editor...she's still climbing.
...and climbing or is it hiding?
Cheers,
Jenni and Jeffrey
I lied. An 'eagle' did land...just not the one I wished could.
Popping into France for some 'Evian water'.
Tour de Franca.
The Tour de France route passed alongside our apartment building in Andorra, it being the last stage in the fabulous Pyrenees Mountains. Our comments should be taken in context as we have the highest regard and respect for cyclists of this caliber (others, too). The fact that Jenni shouted "Lance! Lance!" as they rode past should not be held against her either. I explained that he was probably taking a recreation break and maybe some powders so he would not be riding on the day.
The roads were closed to traffic from 9:30am until 1:30pm. That was fine with us as we planned our schedule so that Tuesday would be a rest day. We walked down from the apartment about an hour before the cyclists were due to pass through El Tarter, our suburb. What happened between 9:30am and 12:15pm is a mystery to us. However, from the time we stood on the pavement/sidewalk, a lot of action occurred but very little cycling. Only a small crowd gathered to await the fellows in brightly colored outfits as there are not many people in Andorra. Rumor has it that the numbers were positively impacted with Jen and me being in the principality. (Nice to lend a hand.) Back to the scene as the tension began to build.
A view of the neighborhood and bike route from one of the hikes.
Cars, with sponsor graphics covering them, kept passing. Some would blow their horns to create spirit or mostly, noise. Then two trucks came by, stopping to sell t-shirts and other paraphernalia to the spectators. In the meantime, we moved to higher ground where we had better vantage points. All this time, cars and motor bikes kept driving by, that is, official vehicles, heading towards Franca. Some, in our opinion, drove much too fast considering the environment of spectators lining the road edges. Then another couple of open vans passed carrying two nubile lasses, waving at us. I thought they were waving at me but Jenni dampened my spirits when she mentioned, giving me at least eight reasons, why that was untrue. Thereafter, things became puzzling. Trucks and cars carried cycles on their roof-racks and towed bike-filled trailers. We've never seen so many bikes. I was beginning to believe it was a race in which cycles were the passengers and the cars were in fact racing each other, the cyclists being the drivers. This was ongoing until another gap opened in traffic. Then a few police cars came by, some fancy vehicles followed proceeded by a magazine sponsor making announcements in French.
Finally, what looked like and turned out to be the lead car drove past together with a few important sponsors and then some very official looking cars. At that stage I was distracted and turned to face someone behind me. My concentration restored, I smiled at Jen and asked when or maybe whether we would be seeing the cyclists soon. "They just passed," she exclaimed. One would have thought out of consideration for patient spectators, the cyclists might have put on a show or demonstration or something...
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