February frolics

[Bierzo Baggie]

Don’t normally go for a run on Mondays but today I had time ...so I went. This Monte Pajariel circuit is one I’ve probably done over 100 times and to reach this or any of the other trails you have to cross the river. If I used the nearest road-bridge I’d have to add another 20 minutes to my route so to save time I normally cross at a makeshift bridge about 5 minutes from home. It’s made from bits of wood and crates and is precariously wedged and nailed together amongst the rocks. Occasionally, when there’s a lot of rain the “bridge” is washed away but always miraculously reappears a few days later. I’ve never discovered the identity of the phantom bridge-builder or what exactly he gets out of it. Maybe it’s a hobby. I’d certainly like to buy him (or her) a pint one day because it saves me from doubling back and running through the town centre.
Anyway, nothing much to report from the run. Crossed the river with a bit of rock jumping included, (vegetarians avert your eyes now) passed by the friendly village slaughterhouse and and as always, followed the undulating dirt track along the River Sil until the village of Toral de Merayo. From here I take a quiet back-road through a wood of silver birch trees and past allotments until home.
Total running time 43 minutes (50% road 50% dirt track).

[Bierzo Baggie]

Sneaked out for a crafty lunchtime run.
Used my H4L circuit. H4L stands for “hell for leather”. The use of initials is a symptom of my new-found technical approach to running as reflected in recent changes in my use of language as a result of using this forum.
Anyway, legged it round as fast as I could. Didn’t even stop at the unmanned level crossing to see if a train was coming. I’d probably have dodged it anyway. This was a flat, straight, 100% road circuit but quiet enough today (didn’t see a single car). The first km stank of shite as old fellows with tractors were muck spreading on their allotments. Then, typical urban-rural scenery....a couple of gangs of grubby sheep eyeing me up, orchards, more allotments, a rusty shack, a rusty car. Sunny and breezy. Started out too enthusiastically, slowed down on the way back and finished well-knackered.
Running time 23 minutes.

[Bierzo Baggie]

I could be saying this in a few years time...but I’d be lying. It should read “slagheaps” for “fields”. When I first came to Ponferrada it was a fairly ugly little mining town. The buildings were all stained with coaldust from the huge, menacing slagheaps which had accumulated over the years to literally form “mountains of coal”. The first winter I spent here I felt as if I was somewhere in Eastern Europe. This wasn’t your picture postcard white village in Andalucia sort of Spain. Funny enough my great grandad used to renovate slagheaps in the Black Country . He’d have had a great time here.

My run on Friday took me all along the river through the centre of Ponferrada and past the rusting hulk of the old power station and then, a short but horrendously steep section where the river narrows into a rocky gorge. Here, the trail bikers come to practise their boulder jumping. Eventually reached the main road, high up above the river where I could cross via a viaduct. A waist high barrier separates the runner from a rather spectacular bungee jump, but without the bungee, and this merited a sit-down once I’d reached the other side. From my vantage point there’s a spectacular view of Monte Pajariel and the snow-capped mountains beyond. You can also see all of Ponferrada in miniature. The other day I had counted storks. Now I counted cranes (of the metallic variety). Stopped counting at 30. There’s also a vast expanse of blackened land on the outskirts which is where the coal mountains have been levelled...it took 3 years to shift it all. Now they’re building a 30-floor skyscraper which will be the highest in Castilla y Leon. “The times they are-a-changing”. Rural, urban, industrial, post-industrial, all within half an hour’s running time. Up here I felt like a witness to the birth of a baby city.

Next, followed a stony track that took me sharply back down to the river and the way I’d come. Crossed with Oscar the undertaker, an old football team-mate who was walking his dogs, which reminds me....at the start of my run yesterday I booted a dog. What’s worse...it felt good (em, it was him or me! grrr)

Running time 52 minutes.
Sitting down time 5 minutes.
Storks 0 Cranes 30.

[Bierzo Baggie]

Saturday,
Only time for a quick one before lunch. Thought about doing a BUM run (brisk urban mile) but in the end settled for an extended H4L. Took quiet road alongside railway line and back by the canal (well, it’s really an irrigation ditch) with yellow bellied wagtails skimming across surface .
Total running time 28 minutes
Pleasant, sunny afternoon...hasn’t rained for ages.
Off for a walk tomorrow...probably.

[Bierzo Baggie]

Went out on Saturday night, which inevitably wiped out Sunday morning. Was quite impressed by a recent post by Sweder where he was able to go to a barn dance, gulp down 6 pints and run 14 miles the next morning. Since joining the 30-something club Saturday nights and Sunday mornings have become for me more or less incompatible.

Anyway, bumped into Pedro the lumberjack who was out and about and we talked about the coming fell running season. Three big dates. In May, there’s the Truchillas-Vizcodillo fell race. 16kms, straight up- straight down with a lake strategically placed half way to cool off if it’s hot. Pedro won the over 40s race last year and his prize was a rather large leg of pork.
In June is my favourite, The Aquilianos Challenge. This covers the entire range of the now snow-capped mountains visible from Ponferrada. There are two possible routes and you have between 6am to 10pm to finish, so there’s no hurry. The catch is that the short route is 45km and the long route a whopping 65km with three 2000m plus peaks thrown in for good measure. This might seem excessive and there is an element of unhealthy competition amongst the front-runners but for 80% of us it’s a walking event.
Finally in September there is the maddest of them all. It’s organized by a local rock climber in Villamanín near León…so you know what to expect. Went with Pedro last year and it was probably the most spectacular run I’ve done…ever. It’s also the closest I’ve come to finishing last (there were only three other finishers behind me).

So, with a fat Sunday morning zero to finish the week my accumulated training reads as followed….
Week Two.
Feb 14th to Feb 20th
Runs 4 (approx 30kms in total).
5-a-side match (lost 8-1…again).

[Bierzo Baggie]

Right, I’ve done it before, but not very often and I’ll avoid it if I can, but....I'm seriously pushed for time this week and I'm faced with only one alternative....a spot of pre-dawn running. Sun-rise is nearly 8am in this time zone and at 7am it’s still pitch black, putting farmers and runners at a distinct disadvantage. It’s also freezing cold. I could see a smattering of snow on the hills this morning and when the low cloud lifted later on it was clear that the snow-line had come down considerably. Saw a couple of cars entering Ponferrada coated with the stuff. The proximity of snow makes itself felt in the air...especially in the hours immediately before sun-rise. All this adds to the disincentive of climbing out of a warm bed and donning woolly hat and gloves in sub-zero temperatures. In fact running is seen by many of my colleagues as a strictly Spring/Summer activity. Pedro the lumberjack goes into virtual hibernation in the winter months and only starts running again when the daylight hours are longer.

So, runner’s dilemma; Bed or run? Warm or cold? An hour more or an hour less? Does anybody actually partake in murky early morning manoeuvres or is this an eccentricity on a par with fell running?

[Sweder]

I feel drawn to join you in your morning madness. There is something fantastic about the pre-dawn/ sunrise hour that, on the rare occasions I embrace it, makes me wonder why I don't do so more often. In deference to the fickle terrain on my local run I shall at least wait for the first fingers of light to trickle over the horizon, but that will still see me out at around 06:45, plenty early enough. God's speed, jolly Bag-man.

[Nigel]

In that case you'll be able to wave to me tomorrow on my early morning flight to the oilfields Sweder.

My take-off from London Gatwick at 0710 should give you about 28 mins to get to the top of Black Cap and wave back.

Waving looks like it might be the nearest thing I get to exercise this week.

[Bierzo Baggie]

I’m still not entirely convinced that the pre-dawn run is a near-spiritual experience.

Wednesday. 7 laps of the nearest half-lit park. It wasn’t as cold as I’d expected. Ran around in circles aimlessly whilst playing mind games with myself but ultimately couldn’t avoid the sensation that I’d somehow been here before. A bit like watching West Brom really.
37 minutes and then...STAGS ( Sod This for A Game of Soldiers).

Thursday. Did the habitual Toral de Merayo circuit but with the road bit first. This was to avoid running on Monte Pajariel in total darkness where I could easily trip over a rock, or worse. By the time I’d reached Toral it was getting light and I could see a thin layer of snow had covered Monte Pajariel overnight. One of the best things about coming out so early is that you have the privilege of being the first to leave your footprints in the virgin snow. Actually, this isn’t true. The trail had already been criss-crossed by small animals and I suspect that the some of the larger tracks had been left by the boars that come down the hillside to drink at the river below. This gives me another good reason for not running along here in the dark. Supposedly the boars are pacific, joint-smoking vegetarians but I’d prefer to see them from afar by daylight than trip over one at night.....am I boaring you? Ha ha ha ...
Crossed the river via rocks and makeshift bridge. I normally try and run this bit and the rock-hopping is a great test of balance, but on an icy February morning walking is the most sensible approach so I walked.

Toral de Merayo-Monte pajariel route.
TRT 46 minutes.

[Bierzo Baggie]

I’ll avoid it if I can, and yesterday I avoided it. Went out at a more runner-friendly hour and managed to avoid that noisy all-bird band they call “the dawn chorus”. Crossed the river, followed the Toral track for 5 minutes and then took a trail to the left which rose steeply at first and then climbed more gently behind Monte Pajariel, eventually taking me to the radio mast on the summit. From river to summit there’s a vertical distance of about 300m. Then, a fell runner’s descent down a fire-break on Pajariel’s steep northern flank, followed by a zig-zag that takes you back to the river. Going down is always the tricky bit. You’re supposed to disengage your brain and let gravity engage your legs but I always end up bottling it and applying the brakes. Patches of ice and snow remain but less than the day before.

On this route there’s a big contrast between the two sides of Pajariel. On the Ponferrada side the hum of traffic from below is constant and the power station belches out sulphuric smoke which paints a dirty, yellowish streak across the skyline. But all this is very soon out of sight and out of mind. Around the back there’s another, far quieter world of conifer plantations, baby oaks and the more mediterranean holm oaks, bushes of the sticky “jara” plant (white rockrose...I looked it up!) which gives a riot of colour to the hillside in May and there's even a scattering of eucalyptus trees. Meanwhile across the other side of a valley the village of Ozuela clings to a mountainside.

Didn’t see anybody until I stumbled across “the lord of the paths” near the top, walking his bulldog. Eduardo is a mountaineer who since retiring has tried to clear,tidy up,classify and signpost a network of paths in the area (perhaps similar to the public footpaths and bridleways in the UK). In this task he has dedicated an enormous amount of time, almost single-handedly. Some of his work will go to waste as the encroaching city gobbles up narrow country paths and converts them into tracks for the 4 by 4s and the quad bikes. I tell Eduardo that I’d seen a couple of JCBs in the vicinity of one of his paths and he’s immediately on his mobile phone to the Town Hall. Bierzo needs characters like Eduardo and I don’t fancy the chances of the JCBs against him and his bulldog at this moment....or perhaps I’m being too optimistic.

Monte Pajariel “round the back” Route: 77 Minutes. (About 45 minutes gentle climbing and 10 minutes crazy descent).

[Nigel]

Hi there, Bierzo Baggie. I just wanted to say how much I am enjoying your account of living and running through a Spanish mountain winter. It reminds me of cold and wet March and April field seasons, doing geological mapping in Salas de los Infantes and San Leonardo de Yagüe, where I learned the important but chilly lesson that the Mediterranean climate does not extend to 1 200 m altitude in the middle of the Iberian Peninsula. It may have seemed quite cool in Almería in January, but for the real thing I can still remember being snowed out in the middle of May in Burgos. Not the hot Spanish sunshine one sometimes imagines.

Bierzo is a part of Spain I have been fairly close to, but never quite visited so far. It seems an interesting and place to settle, and I wonder how you came to find yourself across running the mountain trails of that particular countryside.

As for the pain of a West Brom supporter, these are woes I can understand all too well from my own love-hate lifetime following West Ham United. I can remember running the middle miles of a Shakespeare Marathon alongside a gutted West Brom supporter in 2003, that fateful year when we shared a relegation. West Brom have bounced back, of course, although it may be only temporary as yet. On the positive side, at least we could perhaps look forward to renewing our recently exciting and evenly matched series of games between the two sides next season. Such is the real life of a football supporter, I think. None of this unreal world of chasing trophies - surely it is the relegation and promotion struggles which demand real resilience and loyalty. The trouble is, though, that both of mine are being sorely tested again this season, as perhaps they always will be.....

[Bierzo Baggie]

Hi Nigel,
It's been a long, hard winter in Burgos this year...much worse than here. And somewhere in Teruel it reached -20ºC one frosty night. As for West Ham I remember a certain 7-goal thriller from last season. You may well be swapping places with us next season though.

No running at all this weekend. Intended to go for a longish run on Sunday but woke up to a glorious winter's morning and ended up going for a shortish walk in the snow beyond Monte Pajariel instead.

Week Three.
Runs 3 (approx. 30km).
5-a-side footie (well beaten).
Plus a very short walk in the mountains with Rosana, now heavily pregnant. We're expecting our first child in April.....but this is a Nick Hornby style diary with running trivia instead of Arsenal results so I won't be talking babies....seriously, with little Lara due I haven't made any plans running-wise this year and I suppose my main goal is just to get out onto the hills 2 or 3 times a week. So Nigel, now you know how the Baggie came to Bierzo.

[Nigel]

Lara - that's a great name. Lara de los Infantes is a village inside my old field area in Burgos

Ah yes, that famous seven-goal thriller against WBA. A match burned deep into my memory. West Ham leading all the way (was it even 3-0?), and they finally succumb 4-3. It was a classic, apparently, according to all neutral observers and West Brom fans, although for my part I can only vouch for the tears at teleprinter time. And long recriminations ever since. That game effectively decided the promotion battle of 2004, and well and truly ended the honeymoon period for Alan Pardew as manager. That and a 2-0 defeat at Reading against his old club. Same fixture coming up next weekend in the Madejski, shortly after the visit of the RC faithful.....

[Bierzo Baggie]

Interesting...I’d thought of the name “Santi” (short for Santiago) in the case of it being a boy, and Rosana chose the name Lara for a girl. I was looking up the name on the internet a few days ago and I stumbled across the village in Burgos “Lara de los Infantes”. Had never heard of the place before, so it’s funny you should mention it.
Other people have mentioned Lara Croft but I prefer Julie Christie’s Lara from Dr Zhivago.
Oh, and hope the hammers go up. They've had some entertaining teams over the years!