A Better Day

A better day

Our first mountain biking outing was enough to get me out of my funk. True to form it wasn’t a simple out and back trip. There must be drama and struggle and an element of the unknown if it is to be a good day of mountain biking for Duarte and I.

Nothing can be finer than a breezy morning in full sunlight amidst the open valley of Chaves. A ride back in time…a simpler yet maybe harder time. We followed dusty sheep paths through the base of the valley. Passing old men and women working with their ancient tools in their large fields of wheat, corn, potatoes, etc. We called out “bom dia!” They watched us curiously with their leathery faces that were too surprised to smile or to lift a hand in greeting.

In town we hopped on the “cyclovia.” Five years have certainly brought progress to the city. I can clearly recall running through town during sabbatical a few years ago. I could not have attracted more attention as a woman exercising in town with brightly colored clothes on. Everyone stopped to look. I despised the attention but yearned for a place to exercise. Now the paths are filled with men and women dressed in exercise clothing and exercising. Progress is good.

Off the bike path, across the valley and up the mountain range surrounding Chaves. We climbed and climbed and climbed. Wrong turn after wrong turn on worn sheep paths finally brought us to a stopping point. I decided to consider our long history of getting lost and strongly encouraged my dear husband to trust me.

Three hours later we arrived at Quinta da Mata sore and tired and just in time for a large and delectable meal. Now really, why should I complain?