Cap'n's bLog

 The Camino Primativo is a much less traveled path but what it lacks in perigrinos it makes up for with scenery. With fewer pilgrims and options for lodging, our family is developing quickly. We have stayed in 3 wonderful places, 2 of them donativos (donation only). The donativos include family style dinner and breakfast. Our traveling band includes: Thomas from Switzerland, who is a watchmaker and grew up on a dairy farm. If his grandfather was a chocolatier, the stereotype would be complete. He has stayed all 3 nights with us despite being much faster than us. Much faster when he is walking but a significant amount of his day is consumed drinking coffee so we often finish ahead of him.  Laura who is from Florida but now lives in Malaga. She is there for a few years with her Italian boyfriend. They met in Orlando when he was in flight school. Now he has taken a job in Malaga and she was fed up with the practice of law, so she’s taking a sabbatical in Spain and exploring. She is hilari

 Tomorrow we start the Camino Primativo, 15 days of walking roughly 300 kilometers across the northwest corner of Spain, much of it through the lush mountains of Asturias.  We arrived early this morning, well before the sun in Madrid. After killing a few hours at Chamartin train station we spent another 3 on a train to Oviedo, head bobbing in and out of sleep. Our agenda in Oviedo was simple, find the Air B&B, grab a bite to eat and pick up our credentials.  Amy suggested Alterna Sidreria, which was close to our lodging and very popular with the locals. The clock was ticking on the late afternoon kitchen closing of 4:30pm and we didn’t think we had it in us to wait until the reopening at 8pm. We got seated in the family area downstairs. I tried to look around for clues on what to order. One clue was obvious, everyone was drinking cidre and we would too. Attempting to sort through the cellar cidres on the menu was a mistake according to Pablo our server. Those would be too funky for

  Randolicious  Haute cuisine is not typically associated with long distance riding. None of the stars in the All-Star Special at Waffle House or on the Hardee’s sign refer to Michelin. Randonneurs seek fast, inexpensive and voluminous calories. Some long-distance riders can fuel themselves on powdered drinks and gels but I am not one of those. Early on I learned that my engine runs cleanest on real food. During PBP 2003 I had attempted to fuel myself with powdered maltodextrin, and gels but by the end of the day one my gastrointestinal tract had revolted. A rookie experimentation that nearly ended my ride but fortunately I was in France. The food offered at the controls had not been chosen at random. The menu had been cultivated from over 100 years of trial and error. I was grazing at the buffet of Audax savoring the terroir of long miles in the saddle. Slowly I recovered, fueling with mashed potatoes bolognese, riz au lait, pasta and pockets of endless jambon baguettes. I certai

PBP 2019 Rick Blacker, Seattle Randonneurs and Mike Dayton, NC Randonneurs head into  the setting sun of the first night about to follow the endless ribbon of taillights. Loudéac, outbound. On the table was a plastic yellow tray with a bowl of potage and a few scattered baguette slices. Teardrops were falling onto baguette crust flakes. In other words, it was a typical moment in Loudéac. I was in tears and my riding buddy of fifteen years was smiling from ear to ear. In our time sharing so many roads this was my first time seeing Superman Mike Dayton abandon. I was devastated. He was relieved. Even if this was his first abandonment he sure handled it with grace and aplomb. He could teach a master course in abandoneé. He made the right decision and now basked in contentment. This is the quiet lesson that I learned from this brief moment in the chaotic Loudéac cafeteria, make the correct decision and be happy about it. This PBP was Mike’s first attempt at a Grand Randonnée since

Typical street scene on our commute to work Haiti is a confusing place. Yin and yang not only balance each other but they battle each other. It is a place filled with life (avg age 23, US 38) and a place filled with death, often of the very young (under 5 mortality in Haiti is 47/1000, US 6/1000). under 5 mortality   We have met some of the kindest, most gentle souls despite the petri dish of deep seated corruption that is brutal and pervasive. The conflict infects visitors. At one moment you think of selling it all and moving there to help those in need and a minute later you’re moving up your return flight to escape back to the comforts of home. These are not random thoughts. They grow from realty. Twice I phoned Dr. Mark, a dentist who had literally sold everything, including his practice to move to Haiti and build a hospital. You might think it may not last but that was 27 years ago. The team before ours had flown home a day early due to more planned riots protesting

We had completed the difficult task of the day. Nine people had arrived from 5 separate locations on 4 different flights and were now piling into a rented Dodge Caravan in San Juan, Puerto Rico. We loaded up google maps on multiple phones and battled our way through traffic and unmarked lanes to Vega Baja on the North Shore about an hour west of the capital. We had completed a most comprehensive tour of our rental house, which was conducted in Spanish. A few things were lost in translation which became evident as we found that we did not possess the keys to the upstairs portion of the tour, which was simply advertising for next time. Anyway, we were past all that because we were hungry! We needed food. We reloaded google maps with a target, the closest one of the two restaurants which our hostess had provided as a recommendation. We asked for four recommendations since we would have four dinners at Vega Baja but alas only two places could be suggested as suitable for us. Our intend