20-21 March 2019

Pamplona to Oronoz (20 March 2019, 68.5 km, 42.6 mi)

Finding our way out of Pamplona was tricky. Even though the EuroVelo 1 route follows bike paths through the city, there are many intersecting paths. So staying on the correct route takes some concentration and focus. On top of that, for some reason they decided to send the route across the Arga River on a pedestrian bridge that was clearly not meant for bikes. It zig-zagged back and forth, and included a series of steep stairs right in the middle. We had to take our bikes across it one-at-a-time, with both of us helping to heave each bike up and over the stairs. You have to wonder sometimes whether these routes are designed by people who ever ride bicycles.

The trail follows the valley of the Arga River for about halfway up the Pyrenees mountains. The first 14 km were all on bike paths, with lots of “speed bump” style hills - very short and steep - undulating up and down along the river banks. 

The weather forecast called for strong winds out of the north, and a stiff headwind started early in the day. By the time we left the bike path and got out onto the main road, the wind was a blustery 20-30 mph, and it was really blowing us around on the road. But we had been looking forward to biking over the Pyrenees mountains for quite a while, so we weren’t about to let a little headwind dampen our spirits. We plugged along, crossing our fingers that the wind situation would improve later in the day.

To take a break from the wind, we stopped in a sheltered little plaza in the tiny town of Zuriain. A few minutes later, we were joined by Erich, from Linz, Austria. He said that he was biking to Paris, having started in Barcelona. While we rested near a stone wall, he told us about other bike tours he has taken over the years, including one last year from Lisbon through northern Spain. He’s also ridden the Atlantic Route in France (the same route we will take). He advised us to keep a close watch on our bicycles. Several years ago, someone stole his bike with all his luggage while he was taking a photo in Toulouse, France. He had to abandon his trip, and take a train home to Austria. It sounded traumatic. We’ll definitely need to be watchful.

Erich was absolutely delighted to hear that we would be biking through Linz on the Danube River bike route later this year. He talked with pride about how beautiful the ride is from Regensburg, Germany, down through Austria. He also has ridden the far eastern section of the Danube trail. In his opinion, the route on the Bulgarian side of the river is better because it isn’t as hilly as the Romanian side. That’s something for us to consider when we get to that section of the trail.

About 9 km after leaving Zuriain, we turned left up a smaller canyon, and miraculously we were somewhat sheltered from the wind. We started to really enjoy the ride. The gradients weren’t too steep, and the mountain slopes were beautiful. There was just one tough stretch. As we approached the Eugi Reservoir we had to pass through a short tunnel. It doesn’t look like much of an obstacle, but it was like riding into a wind tunnel. The wind was howling through that little opening, at least 50 mph. Somehow we managed to push our way through. On the far side of the tunnel, we stopped to enjoy a view of the reservoir - and to catch our breath!

Another left turn after the reservoir put us in a narrow valley, following a swift-flowing stream. And, halelujah! We were even more sheltered from the wind. The road was surrounded by a lovely forest of beech trees, although they didn’t have their leaves yet. We could have been riding through the Appalachian Mountains. It felt exactly the same. Another bonus was that there were hardly any cars on this road. It was like riding a smooth bike path all the way to the top.

At the very top of the pass, we rode out onto a meadow above the tree line and, whammo! We were hit by the headwind, again. It was a reminder of how fortunate we had been to be sheltered in the canyons for most of the ride. We stopped to take some photos of the gorgeous view. There was a snow-covered peak to our west (Mount Saioa). Some of that snow probably fell over the last few days, from the same storms that rained in Pamplona.

We crested the pass of Artesiaga at 934 m (3,230 ft), just above the tree line. At the top of the pass we stopped to gaze northward, towards France. It would be another day before we made it that far, but it was fun to anticipate entering another country soon. There are many things we will miss about Spain, but France is beckoning us.

The 24 km descent down the north side of the Pyrenees was fast, with incredibly smooth pavement and very few cars. The scenery as we descended down into the Mizpirako Valley was absolutely stupendous. Green pastures were dotted with herds of very wooly sheep, and some exceptionally shaggy ponies. The landscape was pastoral, ancient, and well tended. It looked like a movie set. The ride up and then down Artesiaga Pass, was one of our favorite parts of the trip so far.

There’s a reason the farm animals we saw had thick fur coats. By this time it was late afternoon. We still had the cold headwind, and the day was getting cooler. About halfway down the mountain we were both freezing cold. We had to stop and put on extra clothes to warm up for the remainder of the ride. 

We arrived at our hotel around 5pm. There aren’t a lot of choices for lodging in the area, so we were lucky to get a room at the Urgain Hotel in Oronoz. The room was cozy and warm, and we were glad to be out of the wind. The small grocery store across the street was still open, so we were able to grab some fruit, bread, ham and cheese for a relaxing, in-room dinner.

Oronoz to Saint-Jean-de-Luz - We made it to France! (21 March 2019, 65 km, 40.4 mi)

We awoke to a brisk, foggy morning. Even though we got a late start after having breakfast at the hotel, there was still a cold mist in the air. As we biked along, we were treated to the sight of the low-hanging clouds enveloping the surrounding hills.

On its way to the Atlantic Ocean, the EuroVelo 1 route through northern Spain parallels a major through-road, on a bike path that is is mix of pavement and gravel. We thought we would save some time and effort by taking the through-road, but we were thwarted. The road is closed to bicycles, probably because it has a number of tunnels through the hills. Not much we could do about that. So we rode back to the bike path, and headed out of town.

The path follows the southern bank of the Río Bidassoa, which forms the border between France and Spain near the Atlantic coast. For the first 40 km we were still in Spain, and the landscape was very rural, with only a few small towns along the way. The trees still don’t have leaves here, but there was greenery on the ground, and some spring wildflowers were in bloom. As we rode along the forested path, the trees were full of birdsong. It made me wish I had brushed up on European bird calls before the trip. Some of the songs were quite common, and it would have been fun to know who was singing them. But when we would stop to take a break, the birds seemed to all disappear. They were definitely shy of people.

As we approached the coast, we crossed the Bidassoa River into France. It felt like a big deal to us! But they don’t make much of a fuss about border crossings within the EU these days. There was no “Welcome to France” sign (remember, we didn’t get one in Spain, either). Of course, we still wanted to commemorate the moment. The best we could do was find a street sign indicating the direction trucks should take when entering France. Hey, it works for us.

Since leaving Pamplona, we had been riding nearly two full days through sparsely-populated, forested landscapes. Just before crossing the border into France, that changed completely. We were suddenly biking in mostly urban or residential neighborhoods, with heavy traffic. It was like night and day. Fortunately, the section of riding on the road through Urrugne was relatively short. But even the bike paths were full of people. We’re definitely back in the city.

The approach to the sea is very picturesque. The EuroVelo 1 route stayed close to the Río Bidassoa, all the way to the harbor at its mouth. We were treated to sweeping views of the broad bay, crammed with sailboats and fishing vessels. On the far side, the ridge of the Pyrenees sank slowly into the sea.

The Atlantic Ocean was a gorgeous, cobalt blue color - reflecting back the deep blue of the cloudless sky. High bluffs along the coastline added to its scenic beauty. It was immediately clear that we had entered surfing country. The water was crowded with neoprene-clad surfers lounging on their boards, and occasionally catching a wave.

For 7 km after leaving the city of Hendaye, the route consisted of a series of long, moderately steep climbs and downhills. Every half a kilometer we would find ourselves grunting up one side of a bluff, then swooping down the far side of it, towards the beach in between. Just as we started thinking about trying a road further inland to reduce the hill climbing, we reached the mouth of La Nivelle River, and the road flattened out. Perfect timing.

Saint-Jean-de-Luz is a very picturesque coastal town, with a huge emphasis on tourism. It was pretty crowded, even this early in the season. It must be really packed during high season. We enjoyed strolling through the quaint streets, and had a delicious pizza dinner on one of the plazas.

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