Allen, Nathan, and The Road to Santiago

Innoculation. To avoid getting the plague, one minor shot in the arm is usually sufficient. To avoid an overcrowding of Pilgrims in the refugios one dose of the Pyrenees.

We have often said that no amount of preparation could have prepared us for the multi-state bar exam multiple choice questions, well no amount of training could have prepared 2 out of shape, aging lawyers for the climb through the Pyrenees mountains.

From St. Jean Pied de Port it was an 18 mile ride gaining nearly 3,300 feet in elevation, suffice it to say as far as bike rides go, it made for a nice walk. With St. Jean still in view we quickly realized that we stood no chance tilting at this windmill, and began to push our bikes up the steep ascent. After 7 miles of pushing and riding (very very small stretches) the road ended and the reign of the Devil´s long horned mountain goat began. We were forced to push our bikes uphill through grass, rock, gravel, dirt, and mud (just like grandpa always said). When we finally reached the top and Roncesvalles, our shelter for the night, was in sight, the Devil reared his ugly head yet again. The rain and wind began to wip, Allen went momentarily insane (something about hating Nathan), Nathan cursed the Gods, and we began the most tretcherous descent into Roncesvalles imaginable. Pushing was no longer the appropriate description, more like defying gravity as our heavily ladden bicycles dragged us down the mountainside through rock, gravel, grass, and rain. Just as we began to imagine the inumerable, dangers that lurked in that forest, Roncesvalles revealed itself.
9 hours later, the Pyrenees had allowed us to escape with our lives if not our egos.