I got to Roncesvalles the evening of my arrival in Spain. I actually stayed a short distance west of Roncesvalles in Burguete, at a lovely little spot called the Hotel Loizu. (For you cyclists, the manager will take you to a garage about a block away where you can store your bicycle for the evening.)

Unless you're determined to stay at the Refugio in Roncesvalles, I'd recommend staying in Burguete, which is more of a village, with shops, places to eat, etc. There's a cafe across the street from the Hotel Loizu that has great coffee and croissants.

After I reassembled my bike and checked into the Loizu, I walked up the road to Roncesvalles. I happened to arrive in time for the blessing of the pilgrims. The priests who hold the ceremony ask that you say a prayer for them when you get to Santiago. It was a lovely walk, and I got the first stamp in my Credencial.

The next morning, as soon as I got on my bike, I was passed by a peloton of cyclists. I had the luxury of going downhill for 1 kilometer before the road started climbing. When I got to Erro, I had a choice. Continue on to Pamplona, or skirt the city and pass by the church at Eunate. I chose the latter, as suggested by my Confraternity cycling guide. (I don't think this is a legitimate option for people who are walking). But if you're cycling, I'd recommend this. The road is quiet, pretty, and largely devoid of traffic. It's also mostly downhill or flat, unlike the road through Pamplona, which I heard later has a nasty climb at the Alto de Perdon.

The route I took led directly to the Knights Templar church at Eunate. This is a tiny, octagonal church modeled after the Templars' church in Jerusalem. Its window panes are thin, translucent slabs of marble, and the exterior is decorated with lots of decorative carvings.

It's pretty much flat riding until you get to Puente la Reina. I stopped for my sello and ran into the peloton of cyclists that had passed me that morning. They were French cyclo-touristes. There were 39 of them, from all over France, who were riding with support vehicles.

The bridge at Puente la Reina is a famous Camino landmark. It marks the convergence of two routes in from France. Every pilgrim since the 11th century has crossed the bridge.

On the way out of Puente la Reina, you have a choice of taking the "old" or the "new" road. While the "old" road is beautifully maintained, and lightly traveled, it's a very steep climb out of town. So much so, that you can hear traffic below you on the "new" road. Take the "new" one.

While the day had begun with beautiful weather, it started to rain when I left Puente la Reina, and continued all afternoon. The wind picked up, too.

About 1 1/2 hours later, I arrived in Estella. Got my sello at the refugio, and directions to a bike shop. When I put my bike back together in Burguete, I had noticed that the back axle was loose, and wanted someone to check it out. The refugio recommended Cycles Alonso. If you need any bike work done early in your trip, stop there. At the shop, I met a great Dutch family, the Quartels, who live in Belgium and who were also riding to Santiago. They had taken the same uphill road out of Puente la Reina, and thought as ill of it as I had.

My final destination was the Hotel Irache, about 4 km. west of Estella, just past the Monasterio Irache, and another Camino landmark, the wine fountain at Bodegas Irache. Free wine or water. As much as you want.

The Irache is a modern, comfortable hotel with a restaurant on the lower level. They let me keep my bicycle indoors in a locked storage room.

Day one: 9:17 hours, 5:15 on bike, 100.1 kilometers.

This was a bad day to be on a bike. A storm blew through during the night with winds strong enough to blow patio furniture around. While the skies were turning blue, the wind hadn't abated when I left for Santo Domingo de la Calzada. It was blowing so hard I had to pedal to go down hill. Plus the terrain was up and down all day. Riding was so tough that I was convinced something had broken on my bike.

I stopped in Los Arcos for a sello. The refugio keeper keeps statistics about where pilgrims are from and where they started their pilgrimage.

In Viana, I ran into the Quartels, whom I had met the day before in Estella. We found the place to get our sellos and had lunch together.

The next town of any size is Logrono, which for pilgrims, is really well organized. The walking route into town is paved, like a cycle path, and you can get your Credencial stamped right on the outskirts. Then it's straight through town - everything is really well marked.

This was not a day for peaceful meditation. It was just push the pedals down. There were a number of nice looking villages near the road, but I didn't have the heart to deviate from my route. I am in the heart of the Rioja, where Spain's most famous wines are made. There were vineyards on both sides of the road for most of the day.

Almost all the riding was on a major "National" road . These roads are great to ride on. They have a painted line with about a 5 foot-wide shoulder. I believe the shoulder was originally designed for slow-moving vehicles, like farm equipment. It makes a perfect cycle path. Not only is the pavement smooth, but drivers treat cyclists with respect. It's very different than what I'm used to. Where I live, most drivers act as if cyclists are breaking the law by riding their bicycles in the street.

I did stop in Najera for a sello. As I was looking for the place to get it, I ran into the Quartels again. They had failed to find a place to stay in Najera, and were heading for Santo Domingo de la Calzada. They told me how to find the albergue where I could get my sello, but I got lost anyway. Once I did find it, I saw some German cyclists who had seen me at the bridge at Puente la Reina.

The road from Najera to Santo Domingo de la Calzada is uphill most of the way. I arrived at my hotel - the Parador Santo Domingo de la Calzada. After showering and washing my clothes I went out to look for some postcards. I ran into the Quartels on more time. They invited me to dinner, but I was too beat to walk anywhere. The Parador let me keep my bike in their garage.

Day two: 7:56 hours. 5:57 on bike. 95 km.

It could not have been a nicer day for cycling. Cool, fall-like temperatures, amazingly bright blue sky, and no wind. Fortunately, this weather pattern kept up throughout the rest of my trip.

I met a couple from Holland on the way out of town...I would wind up seeing them again later. I also rode for a while with a young woman from Andorra. At Granon, we split up. She was riding to Santiago on the walkers' footpath. I stayed on the road. It's mostly flat, and when not, rolling hills.

My cycle computer had stopped working, and I decided to try and get it fixed in Belorado, the next "big" town I would come to. Once in Belorado, I had trouble finding the refugio for my sello. There are two in Belorado, and the first one I came to - the one attached to the church - was closed. There had been a fiesta in town the night before, and they were taking down the decorations. I nearly garroted myself on a wire they had used for hanging flags. I met two young women from Dresden. When I did find the second Refugio, the guy who ran it walked half-way across to town to show me a bike shop that could repair the computer. It turned out to be nothing major.

On the way out of town, I stopped and chatted with the Stindls, a German family from a town near Heidelberg. The father is a recently-retired doctor. He was riding with his son, who would accompany him as far as Burgos. His wife was driving. She would go ahead and see the sights, then meet up with him.

I stopped for lunch at Montes de Oca. I had planned to take a "detour" that added 8 kilometers to the day's ride, but allowed me to skip a pretty large climb. The detour was magical. A quiet, well-paved road through small villages. At one point, climbing a hill, I was accompanied by a tiny blue butterfly. While it was mostly uphill, none of the climbs were difficult. Ultimately, the detour leads to San Juan de Ortega, an absolutely beautiful - and recently scrubbed - church.

An easy ride to Burgos followed. After being in mostly rural surroundings, it was a little disconcerting to be in a big city. Fortunately, there were signs for the major hotels, so I didn't have any trouble navigating.

However, when I checked in, I realized that I had lost my Credencial. I knew I could get a new one, but I had lost all the sellos I had collected. To get a new one, I took off for the Cathedral, where I ran into the young woman from Andorra, and the couple from Holland, the Nikkens, I had met that morning. I thought I could get a Credencial at the Cathedral, but I was informed that I'd have to go to the Refugio - about a mile away.

Coming back, new Credencial in hand, I ran into the the Stindls. They were staying outside of Burgos, as they couldn't find a room in town. The young woman - Nuria - from Andorra was in need of a place to stay, too. It made me glad that I had booked all my rooms before I left.

Running into people over and over again is a real feature of the Camino. While not everyone rides the same speed, we all tend to ride the same distance - or have the same destination - every day.

The hotel I stayed in - the Rice - let me keep my bicycle in a ground floor linen closet.

Except for the Credencial loss, it was a great day.

8:02 total time. (Includes trip to get new Credencial.) 5:00 on bike.(Approximately, given the mis-functioning cycle computer) 97.3 km

I had an easy time finding my way out of Burgos, as I had covered the same ground the evening before on my search for a new Credencial. Once out of town, it's a little confusing, as there is a new highway that runs parallel to the N120 (which I rode on). At Citores, I turned left onto a rural road.

Passed through two small, picturesque towns - Yudego and Villandiego. Then I was onto the Meseta. The Meseta is a high plain in the center of Spain. (I don't think the rain stays mainly there, though). The Meseta must be a drag to cover on foot. It's over 60 miles wide. It's very hot in the summer, there is no shade, and the landscape is so empty you must feel as though you're not making much progress. It's great on a bike, though.

At Hontanas, I ran into Nuria again - she was riding with Ivan, a very funny guy from Girona.

I ran into them again at Castrojeriz where we ate lunch. There's not much of a town there, but there is a nice cafe/bar that makes delicious sandwiches. Nuria speaks great English. I can speak French quite well, and can figure out most Spanish when it's close to French, but otherwise I'm hopeless. Having someone to translate makes things much easier, obviously.

I stopped for a Sello at a beautiful cafe/Refugio in Boadilla del Camino. I met a trio of really nice Madrilenos, who called the Refugio in San Juan de Ortega, and found that an American had found my Credencial and would mail it to me upon his return to the United States.

(I did indeed get it back. It was found by a Professor from William and Mary College. Thanks, Professor!)

At Fromista, I visited the remarkable church of San Martin. Some people consider it over-restored, and others think it's the best example of Romanesque architecture in Spain. Whatever the opinion, it has an enormous number of decorative corbels. Definitely worth the time to visit it.

Straight through to Carrion de Los Condes. I've noticed I'm getting sunburned on the left side of my body - a consequence of riding West all day, every day.

I had dinner with Ivan and Nuria - and saw the Nikkens - who arrived about 2 hours after I did. Remarkable. They're in their sixties, and have ridden all the way from Holland.

The hotel I'm staying in, the Real Monasterio San Zoilo, is attached to a former Benedictine monastery. It's beautiful. They had a locked storage area/hallway where I could keep my bike. Good restaurant, too.

8:46 total time. 5:05 on bike. 104.5km

Same terrain as yesterday. Flat, (good!) no wind, (good!) hot. (Not so good!) In the morning, I met two Canadian cyclists, and while chatting, managed to step on my sunglasses. The road paralleled the walking Camino for a while, so I saw a fair number of pilgrims. There are more pilgrims, in general, than I had guessed there would be. The Camino must be pretty jammed up during the summer.

At Sahagun, I ran into all of the cyclists with whom I've been travelling. I had coffee with the Dutch couple, the Nikkens, who've ridden from Holland. Ivan and Nuria had stopped so Ivan could get some sunblock.

From that point on - all the way to Leon - I was pretty much alone, but made good progress. The road is fairly straight and boring. And it's hot and dusty. I stopped in Mansilla de las Mulas for a Sello, but the Refugio and Tourist office were closed. So on through industrial suburbs to Leon.

I had decided that crossing the upcoming mountains would be too hard with the gearing on my bike. On the way into the center of Leon, I happened to ride by a bike store, and stopped to get a larger rear cassette (32 tooth versus the 24 tooth that came on the bike). The owner laughed at how small it was. Got that, and a new chain, and ultimately a new rear derailleur, as the one that came on the bike couldn't handle the larger cassette.

I stopped at the tourist office near the Cathedral for a Sello, then checked in to my hotel. I'm staying at the Parador in Leon. It's beautiful, huge, and steeped in history. It's attached to a former monastery, which served as a hospital for pilgrims in the old days. The hotel is, itself, part of the Camino.

The Camino is marked across its length by yellow arrows - but in Leon proper, you find your way through town by following bronze scallops embedded in the pavement.

I followed them back to the Cathedral, which has staggeringly beautiful stained glass windows. I understand that it has a higher stained glass to stone ratio than any other Cathedral in the world. I'd believe it.

Walking around a small side street, I ran into the Nikkens, and while I was talking to them, Nuria and Ivan walked by. So we all had dinner together, along with a friend of Nuria's father. We were talking about how we keep running into each other, and Mrs. Nikkens said: "It's the Camino." She's right, I think.

The Parador is very upscale and grand. It's sort of funny - when I checked in I was in a sweaty T-shirt and cycling shorts, and the other people in the lobby were all very stylishly dressed. But no one cares. All the people who work in the hotel - as it has been in every hotel - are really nice. They must be used to pilgrims. They let me keep my bike in a room normally used to store luggage.

Total time: Don't know. 5:21 on bike. 112.9 km

Leaving Leon is a little difficult, even though the Parador is right on the road leading out of town. There was a lot of traffic, and the cycle lane small to non-existent.

I climbed slowly all the way to Astorga, which is a beautiful city. It has a magnificent Cathedral, and, when I wandered in, a choir with soprano soloist was practicing. (It was a Saturday). When I left, I went into the museum next door for a sello. Upon exiting the museum, it turned out that the choir practice had been for a wedding, and I had arrived back in front of the Cathedral just in time for the bride's arrival.

Astorga's clock tower is rung by two clockwork statues dressed in the clothing of the mule drivers (Maragatos) for which the town was famous.

Past Astorga, I stopped in Castrillo de los Polvazares as I was not sure which road to take to get to Rabanal del Camino. Castrillo de los Polvazares turned out to be a village of totally restored Maragato buildings. It's a national monument. From El Ganso (the next village you come upon) to Rabanal del Camino it's uphill all the way, and I saw a steady stream of pilgrims on foot.

The road into Rabanal del Camino is quite steep. I am now convinced that every town in Spain is at the end of an uphill climb.

Rabanal del Camino is clearly the beneficiary of the numbers of pilgrims who come through town. It is the logical jumping-off point for the highest point of the Camino. There are two Refugios, and a couple of other places to stay. My hotel, the Posada del Gaspar, is quite charming, and they let me keep my bicycle locked up on a terrace next to the bar.

I walked around town for a bit, visiting the Refugio run by the British Confraternity of St. James. Back at my hotel, I was writing in my journal when Ivan showed up. We went to the other Refugio where we met up with Nuria and a couple from Vitoria, Luisa and Oscar. I also met some hilarious retired soldiers from Finland.

Everything was fine until I awoke at 2:00. There was a fiesta in the hotel bar featuring really loud disco music. A typical Saturday night in Rabanal, I guess.

6:54 total time. 3:55 on bike. 70.4 km

The road from Rabanal climbs to the highest point of the journey, as well as one of the Camino's most famous locations, the Cruz de Ferro. The Cruz de Ferro is an iron cross (hence its name) at the top of an enormous wooden pole. What makes it famous is the tradition of bringing a stone from your home to leave at the base of the cross.

I was a little nervous about the climb, as a cyclist had told me that it was the toughest of the Camino. While indisputedly demanding, it turned out to be less difficult than I had been led to believe. Nevertheless, I was really happy I had changed my rear cassette in Leon.

After stopping at Foncebadon (an abandoned mining town) for a coffee, we arrived at the Cruz and added our stones to the cairn. I saw stones from all over the world in the pile - most people write where they're from on their rocks. There were about 10 pink-painted rocks from Bergamo, Italy, and the French cyclists I had last seen in Puente la Reina had nailed a cardboard sign with their touring group's logo on it to the wooden pole. Along with numerous, and more traditionally religious ex-votos, I saw a plastic Elvis Presley doll attached to the pole. Ivan built a cairn with our names on it, and Oscar created an elaborate arch of stones.

There's another climb before you get to descend. At the start of the downhill run, we stopped at Manjarin, site of a famous Refugio run by the self-proclaimed last Knight Templar. It's a ramshackle clump of buildings with geese and ducks running around. If you spend the night, you do so in a barn, which is probably a good way to have a sense of what it was like for pilgrims centuries ago.

Then there's an exhilarating 18km descent. Fast and fun. If you get too exhilarated, remember that going through Acebedo, a tiny town with cobbled streets, you'll see a memorial in honor of a German cyclist who was killed by a car.

More downhill riding into Molinaseca. Then on to Ponferrada, where we stopped for lunch. Ivan and Nuria were planning to take the walkers' path again, so we split up.

I ran into them in Cacabelos, where I had stopped for a Sello. Even though Cacabelos is a very small town, I mistook a home for the elderly for the Refugio. The home does not have sellos for pilgrims, by the way.

On the way out of town, going uphill, Ivan got a bee sting on his leg. I stopped to see if he was alright. This violated a rule that I made up on this trip, which is: Never stop to rest until you've made it to the top of the hill. It's too hard to get going again. I would violate my own rule the next day at O Cebreiro.

Nuria continued to ride, and to catch up, Ivan and I grabbed the back of a tractor that happened to be going by. We waved as we passed her.

It's pretty steady up and down all the way to Villafranca del Bierzo, my destination for the day. (Bierzo is the name of the region I'm currently in). There's a famous Refugio in Villafranca del Bierzo, the Fenix, so-called because it is being rebuilt after having burned to the ground.

Nuria, Ivan, Oscar, and Luisa went on to the next town. We made arrangements to meet there before we tackled O Cebreiro, the most notorious climb on the Camino.

Villafranca is a lovely town, and the Parador where I'm staying, while modern, is very nice. They let me lock up my bike in one of their garages. I met a very nice Canadian who was riding from Leon to Santiago. He had arranged for a service to carry his luggage from one stage to the next. When he arrived at his day's destination, his luggage would be waiting for him at his hotel.

That evening, there was a short fireworks show. If you do stay in Paradors while you're traveling along the Camino, you should know that they don't serve breakfast until 8:00, which makes it difficult to get a very early start. On the plus side, however, breakfasts at Paradors are an enormous and varied buffet, and are perfect for loading your body up for a long day's ride.

I had a very good dinner, but slept fitfully. I was worried, I think, about the next day's ride.

6:05 total time. 3:26 on bike. 59.3 km.

An epic day. This is day I had to get over the hardest part of the Camino, O Cebreiro.

There are two ways to proceed from Villafranca del Bierzo on a bicycle. I took the tunnel. You should, too. It's shorter, and there's very little traffic first thing in the morning.

Once you pass Vega del Valcarce, you're at the foot of O Cebreiro.

It's all uphill. Very uphill. You go up a series of switchbacks, and each turn leads to a section that seems to be steeper than the section that preceded it. I had to tack up the steepest sections, and pushing as hard as I could, I could only manage 3-4.8 miles an hour. I remember two things in particular. One, there were lot of flies. I actually sucked one into my mouth (I was panting a lot) and spat it out. Two, it was so steep that with the weight of my luggage over the rear wheel, my bike would do little wheelies every time I pushed on the pedal. The worst part of the climb comes at a corner where someone has painted 6km on the road. (As in 6km to go.) It was so steep that I had a momentary "I give up" episode, got off the bike, and started to push it up the hill on foot. After about 50 feet, I realized that getting to the top would take forever. So I got back on, and kept tacking up the road. I could see a couple of buildings across the valley, and was inspired by the thought that the climb was nearly over. It turned out that the buildings were about 2 km short of the summit. This was pretty disheartening. There were some walkers taking a rest, and they all urged me on. Finally I made it to the top. Oscar, Luisa, (who had started earlier than I), and Nuria and Ivan (who hadn't) were already there.

Don't let this discourage you from doing the pilgrimage. Everyone I met made it to Santiago. So you can probably do it, too.

But as I learned on my trip, every climb eventually goes down. (And, conversely, no downhill comes without a climb at some point in the future.) Once you leave the top of O Cebreiro, you get to enjoy a brief descent. I passed the Refugio whose webcam (www.crtvg.es) I had checked out many times. I waved at the cam as I coasted by. Shortly thereafter, there's another climb to the summit of El Poyo (1557 meters), but it's nothing compared to Cebreiro. We stopped for lunch at the top.

Past El Poyo, there's a glorious 11km descent to Samos. I hit nearly 50 mph on the way down.

At Samos, the road heads uphill again. It's not steep, just a long slog. We stopped for Sellos.

At O Cebreiro, you pass into the province of Galicia. It's very lush and green. From what I understand, the moisture-laden air from the Atlantic stays west of the mountains I had just crossed.

From Samos to Sarria is constantly uphill. Galicia's hills aren't rolling. They're more abrupt up and down, and you can always tell when a hill is coming, as you'll see a road sign announcing an additional lane for passing, so cars can get around slower-moving trucks. You learn to dread seeing one of those signs.

We stopped for Sellos in Sarria. At some point, collecting Sellos becomes like the license plate game my son plays when we're on a road trip. You want to get them all. The climb to the Refugio in Sarria is very steep. I jokingly accused the Refugio keepers of trying to kill off pilgrims.

At Paradela, there was a climb into town, then a flat bit, then a downhill run into Portomarin, except for the last bit, a climb into the city proper.

Portomarin is a city that used to be somewhere else. A dam was contructed that would submerge the old town, so they started over again on a nearby hill. However, before the flood, they moved their 12th Century church, San Nicolas. They numbered every stone, disassembled it, and re-assembled it in the new location. You can still see the numbers on the stones.

My hotel (the Pousada de Portomarin) was nice, and they let me keep my bike locked up in a garage.

It was a long, memorable day on the bike.

9:45 total time. 6:17 on bike. 101.5 km.

The road out of Portomarin is uphill. Nothing major, though. Just not my favorite way to start the day. The ride is quite straightforward until you come to the intersection of the C535 and the N540. Straight on is what I thought to be the walkers' path. A bicycle sign pointed to the right, which I followed onto the N540. I went about 1/4 to 1/2 mile downhill, and kept seeing signs for Lugo. I could have continued, and taken the N547, but it would have added 6 miles to my journey. So I turned around and rode back uphill. It turns out the "road" I was looking for was actually a paved portion of the walkers' path. It's a nice part of the trip, as you wind your way through tiny villages. There are cows in the road, and I passed a family of pilgrims on foot whose luggage was being carried by a donkey.

At Taberna Ma Luz in Ligonde, I stopped to get a Sello. I then joined the N547 and headed to Melide. I had a hard time finding the Refugio for my Sello. Even the usual yellow arrows were hard to spot. Ultimately, I did track it down, but it was closed.

On I went to Boente, where I got a Sello in a pretty little church. For only the second time on my trip, I was asked where I had started from, and my country of origin.

It's pretty much gently up and down through Arzua and Cerceda. At Cerceda I ran into three riders from San Sebastian I had met at the summit of El Poyo. They offered me lunch, but I wasn't hungry. To this point, I had forced myself to eat because I knew how many calories I'd be burning, but now I only had about 20-30 km left to go, so I felt I could skip a meal if I wanted to. It was hilarious listening to them try and say my name, Arthur. They agreed the only way to do it would be to get drunk enough to slur your words.

There are a couple of climbs outside of Santiago de Compostela - nothing tough, but I'd been riding for 5 hours and I was getting burned on my left side again. (That darned going west all day thing.)

Near the airport, you come to the final hill, the Monte de Gozo - or Mount of Joy. It's called the Mount of Joy because in the old days, from its summit, you got your first views of the spires of the Santiago Cathedral.

Then I was there. The destination.

I quickly checked into my hotel (the very cool AC Palacio del Carmen), showered, changed, and walked into town. As the Cathedral was open, I did the traditional rites: Touched the Tree of Jesse. Tapped my head on the bust of Maestro Mateo (the Cathedral's architect). Hugged the statue of Santiago.

Then I went outside to a building adjacent to the Cathedral, got the final Sello in my Credencial, and received my Compostela. The giver-of-Compostelas will ask you a couple of questions. There's one form of the certificate if you're doing the pilgrimage for Religious or Spiritual reasons, and another if your impetus is Cultural. He or she will also check to make sure you've actually done the pilgrimage completely on foot, on bicycle, or on horseback. The giver-of-Compostelas asked me if I had done it with "bike alone? Or bike with car?" Evidently people try to cheat to get their Compostelas. They drive up to a town, walk in, get a Sello, walk out of town, are picked up, and continue on to the next town. I don't get it. Unless you've actually done the pilgrimage, the Compostela is just a piece of paper.

The Compostela is in Latin, and to keep it all in Latin, they look up your first name in an enormous book to find its Latin equivalent. I'm Arturum.

Compostela in hand, I immediately purchased a cardboard mailing tube to protect it at a souvenir shop across the street.

I had an excellent racion of pulpo a la feria (octopus with olive oil and paprika), wandered back to the hotel, and collapsed into bed.

8:57 total time. 6:25 on bike. 101.3 km

Total mileage for trip: 853km.

There's a refugio about two hours walking distance from Santiago de Compostela. Hence, every morning from about 9:00 on, a wave of pilgrims begins to arrive at the enormous plaza (praca in Galician) in front of the Cathedral. Sooner or later, everyone you've met along the way shows up. Waiting for my cycling compatriots to arrive, I was struck by the expressions of happiness on the faces of the people who had completed their pilgrimages. I could see people who had been walking for a month appear to accelerate up the steps into the cathedral.

Santiago de Compostela is a worth visiting in its own right. Aside from the richness of its history, and its importance as the destination of the pilgrimage, it's also the site of a university, and the presence of its students keeps the city lively, and prevents it from being simply a museum of its past. There are, of course, innumerable souvenir shops that cater to the tourist trade, (I bought a number of remembrances myself), and an equally large number of restaurants with pelegrino specials.

After we all met, and made plans to re-group later, I went to a pilgrims' mass in the Cathedral. From time to time (and I was never able to definitively identify its schedule) the mass includes swinging the largest incenser in Christendom, the Botafumeiro. Originally, the 4-foot tall Botafumeiro was brought out to fumigate the Cathedral in an attempt to diffuse the scent of the pilgrims who crowded the space. While we all smelled just fine, I was fortunate, for that day it was sent into action. It's very impressive. Men (called Tiraboleros) pull on ropes that make the Botafumeiro swing across the massive transept, all the way up to its 60 foot high ceiling, then back down over the heads of the celebrants, then up to the top of the ceiling on the other side of the church, generating oohs and ahhs from the celebrants under its path. (A few people ducked, too).

That evening, we went out for a long, celebratory dinner and collected each others' email addresses.

I spent three days in Santiago. I treated myself to a stay at a spectacular hotel - The AC Palacio del Carmen, which is about a 15 minute walk from the Cathedral. The hotel is a former convent which has been very artfully modernized. The staff was great. If you can afford to stay there, do so. They will let you keep your bicycle in the basement garage.

Aside from relaxing and enjoying the city, I had the opportunity to see some of people I had met earlier in my trip. As we were going to lunch, the Nikkens rode in. The next day, I was walking in front of the Cathedral when Dr. Stindl arrived, wearing the Tour de France yellow jersey his colleagues had given him prior to leaving for Spain.

I flew from Santiago to Madrid, then back to the United States, 10 pounds lighter and changed forever.

It's very difficult for me to express how the pilgrimage made me feel. I know my feelings are shared by many people, many of whom, like me, didn't expect to be so moved. Perhaps it comes from successfully completing a physically demanding task I had set for myself. Perhaps it's feeling a part of history. After all, for 12 centuries, reaching Santiago has been the goal of millions of pilgrims. Having completed the journey, I felt a part of something much larger than myself. Perhaps it's caused by extracting yourself from your day-to-day life and spending 9 days to thinking of nothing beyond the day's task of reaching your destination. Perhaps it's sharing a common goal with people from all over the world, who seem to want nothing beyond helping you get to Santiago.

I hope these web pages inspire or help you plan a pilgrimage of your own. Email me if you have questions, and I'll try to do my best to answer them.

Buen Camino!

Arthur

In 2001, I started riding my bicycle again. Back in high school, I rode all the time. But I hadn't exercised regularly in years, and I wanted to get in shape. In 2002, I rode nearly 1,000 miles.

I don't know where I first heard of the Camino. But it appealed to me as a place to go on tour. At least part of the appeal was that there was a goal - to reach Santiago de Compostela. I'm not that interested in cycling tours that meander around. Second, it was a spiritual voyage. Another part of the appeal was its location. I've been fortunate to travel in Spain with my wife and son, and I love both the country and the people. And the food. And the coffee. And the architecture. And the art. And the weather. And the history. Finally, it was trip I could do alone. I didn't need to join a group to make the trip. The Camino is well organized, and the route is well marked.

My wife, Jennifer, really encouraged me all the way. About 5 years ago, she took an Outward Bound course, and had a great time doing it. Jennifer understood the importance of doing something challenging and purposeful.

So I found out as much as I could about the pilgrimage and cycle touring. It looked as though I could do the full length of the Camino Frances in two weeks.

In January of 2003, I made the decision to do the Camino. I picked September as a good time to make the pilgrimage, as it would be cooler than the summer, and I had read that it would be less crowded as well. It also gave me time to get in shape.

I had 7 months to get ready. In January, I started riding indoors. When the weather got better I headed outside. By the time I left for Spain, I had ridden 1,800 miles, including a century (actually 115 miles in one day) that I rode with my cousin Paul.

I was in pretty good shape - though in retrospect there are two things I should have done before I left.

First, I should have spent more time training on hills. I live in Southeastern Michigan, and it's very flat around here. The terrain is hillier north of my home, and I should have put on some miles going up and down. Second, I should have spent some time riding with the loaded baggage I'd be carrying. Even though I packed light, there's a big difference when you're used to a light bike and suddenly you're trying to lug all that extra weight up a hill. Or two. Or twenty.

Ultimately, I set a goal of 50 miles a day. That meant I'd have 9 days of riding, 2 days in Santiago, an extra day in case I needed it, and travel days from Madrid to Roncesvalles and Santiago to Madrid.

On September 5, I got on the plane for Madrid. You're about to read what happened next.

Read as much as you can about the Camino before you go. It will help you plan your trip, and understanding the history and context of the Camino will make your trip all the more enjoyable. I recommend four books in particular. The Pilgrimage Road to Santiago, by David M. Gitlitz and Linda Kay Davidson. Roads to Santiago, by Cees Nooteboom. The Ornament of the World, by Maria Rosa Menocal. Signs & Symbols in Christian Art, by George Ferguson. To buy any of them, click on the red titles.

Get a Credencial before you leave. See the Friends of the Road to Santiago link.

I cannot offer any scientific help on getting in shape, training, or target heart rates. But I found that the most useful preparation involved longer distances. I tried to ride 10-15 miles three times a week, and a 30 to 40 mile ride every weekend. I think that getting regular long-distance rides under your belt is better preparation that a few extra 10 mile jaunts. Completing a Century (100 miles in less than 24 hours) also helps boost your confidence. (If you can ride 100 miles a day, 50 can't be that bad.) Go for rides in bad weather. Get used to riding in heavy winds and/or rain. Also, remember that people with every kind of physique and levels of physical fitness succesfully do the Camino every year.

Decide on your itinerary ahead of time. Mine was in 9 days with a day of flex in case I needed it. It seemed about right to me but most people add a couple of days. Having a fixed itinerary gives you the impetus you need to keep going, even if you're tired, or riding into a strong headwind. Other itineraries are online if you look for them. One of the things I did was email people who had cycled the Camino and asked their advice. Most people with personal web sites about the Camino are more than happy to answer your questions. I think most people who've completed the journey want other people to experience it, too.

Once you have an itinerary, you can make reservations. I booked all my hotel rooms (u)before(/u) I left. I did this for a number of reasons. First, the pilgrim Refugios give first precedence to pilgrims on foot. For a cyclist, that means you may have to wait until 8 p.m. to find out if you can stay there or not. Even though I went in September (an ostensibly less busy season) many of the refugios were full. Second, I didn't want to ride all day and then spend my evenings trying to find a bed for the night. Some might argue that staying in Refugios is a more "authentic" experience. Of the people I met, no one who stayed in Refugios claimed to have a different experience than I did. I chose my hotels by using an invaluable website, viamichelin.com. Third, as my wife generously pointed out, in addition to going on a pilgrimage, this was also my vacation. She said stay somewhere nice.

Figure out ahead of time how you're going to get from where you land to your starting point on the Camino. And on the back side, how you're going to get from Santiago De Compostela to your flight back home. I arrived in Spain on a Sunday morning. Knowing that public transportation would be difficult on Sunday, (I had checked) I had reserved a rental car. Once I arrived, I put my bicycle in the back, drove to the Pamplona airport, and dropped the car off. I unboxed my bike, (there were three other bike boxes by the garbage cans,) and put it and me in a taxi to Roncesvalles. At the end of the pilgrimage, I flew from Santiago to Madrid.

You have to have a bike box to take your bicycle back to the United States. You can't check your bare bicycle as luggage. You could, I guess, leave the bike box you used to get to Spain at left luggage at Barajas airport in Madrid. I didn't, because when I asked before I left for Roncesvalles, I was assured there would be plenty of boxes available when I returned to fly home. However, when it came time to fly back, all the transatlantic airlines except for USAir (bless their hearts) were out of bike boxes. Don't take the chance. Arrange for, or try to reserve, a bike box for the return trip (u)before(/u) you leave Madrid. You'll also need packing tape and some kind of marker to write your name and address on every side of the box. By the way, you don't need to box your bike on intra-European flights, like Santiago to Madrid. You just need to turn the handlebars sideways, lessen the pressure in the tires, and remove the pedals.

Make a packing list. You need less than you think. First rule: Take no cotton. When you wash a cotton garment, it will not dry fast enough to wear it the next day. If it rains, you'll be wet and stay wet.

Here's what I packed: Two pairs of cycling shorts. Two cycling T-shirts. (Not racer-boy jerseys, just Coolmax t-shirts) Three pairs of Pearl Izumi cycling socks. One pair convertible trousers. (Long pants with zippers on legs to make shorts). One pair miracle fabric briefs. (Wash and dry in about an hour or less). One long sleeve shirt. (Also miracle fabric). One fleece. (I didn't use it but I was exceedingly lucky weather-wise.) One Pearl Izumi windbreaker (water resistant not water proof). One O2 rain jacket. (I did use it). Cycling gloves. Two pairs of shoes: One cycling (see my bicycle stuff page), one for the evenings and for the plane ride. One bandana. One helmet. One baseball-style cap. Toiletries. (Your choice.) Sunblock. For guys, (I can't speak for women here) I also recommend a small tin of Bag Balm to prevent chafing. Put it near your private parts. Every morning.

A camera. I used a Canon Powershot S50. 5 Megapixel. It's a great camera. Not too big. Not too small. Does everything. It also comes with a very lightweight battery recharger that works without a transformer on 220 volts. You do need a U.S.-to-European adapter. (I got mine at Radio Shack) Take two batteries. Take a couple of extra memory cards. I took a 256, a 128, a 64, and a 32. I took 270 photos.

Some people recommend lightweight binoculars. I took a pair, and used them once, to look at stained glass windows in the Leon cathedral.

Books to take: 1) Walking the Camino De Santiago, (click to purchase) by Bethan Davies and Ben Cole. Invaluable. Where to stay, where to eat, where to get your Sellos, navigating larger cities en route. Yes it says "walking", but you will be going through exactly the same places on your bike. 2) Pilgrim Guides to Spain. 1.The Camino Frances and The Cycling Pilgrim on the Camino France. Both published by, and available through, The Confraternity of St. James in Great Britain. Look on my links page. The Pilgrim guide is mostly redundant to (u)Walking the Camino de Santiago,(/u) but I used both. Sometimes information that's not completely clear in one book is clearer in the other, and vice versa. The (u)Cycling Pilgrim...(/u) is invaluable for cyclists. It's a 22 page supplement to the (u)Pilgrim Guide (/u)with detailed route instructions and a suggested itinerary. Basically, it's all the route information you need. 3) Take a journal and pen. I recommend Moleskine journals. You can find them at Barnes & Noble. 4) A small English to Spanish dictionary. The words for "congestion" and "constipation" are very similar in Spanish, as I found when I was offered an inhaler for a very different need. 5) Something to read. I brought a couple of paperbacks that I tossed when I was finished with them.

The single best Pilgrim guide book I know of is El Camino De Santiago A Pie, published by El Pais/Aguilar. It's in Spanish, but you can use it even if English is your only language. The problem is, you can't buy it in the United States. Don't take the risk of trying to find a copy the day you arrive in Spain. Pick one up en route, or take one home as a souvenir.

Maps: I used Michelin 441, and 442. Scale is 1-400,000. I found them online. For bicycling, not walking. These maps have been superseded by new editions. Alex informs me to look for maps 571, 572, 573, and 575

An ATM card. Visa/Mastercard. You can use your ATM card at most Spanish ATM machines. Visa acceptance is much more widespread than American Express. You can also call the States from Telefonica booths with a Visa Card.

You can get over the counter medicine at any Spanish pharmacy. (The pharmacists in Spain are great). Don't bother bringing aspirin, ibuprofen, etc. with you because you think you might need it.

The Camino is not a race. The prize is the journey, not arriving at the destination.

I met people from all over the world on my pilgrimage. I met a few who were walking its length for the second time. (I heard of one fellow who, upon reaching Santiago, turned around and walked all the way back to the beginning.) Everyone had their own reasons for making the trip. And no matter what the reason for the voyage, everyone encouraged and helped everyone else.

Nuria is from Andorra. She's a great athlete. Maybe it comes from living in the Pyrennees. She's also a lot of fun.

Ivan is from Girona, and really a funny guy. He's also very competitive and a strong bike rider.

Oscar and Luisa are from Vitoria. They speak English as well as I speak Spanish. They're funny, too.

The Nikkens are from Holland. And rode their bikes all the way from their hometown to Santiago. 1,500 miles. They inspired everyone.

The Quartels are a great family. I ran into them so often at the beginning of my trip that they probably thought I was stalking them. I didn't see them after I left Santo Domingo de la Calzada, but heard later that they made it to Santiago.

The Stindls are from a town near Heidelberg. On my last day in Santiago, I was standing in front of the Cathedral, when Dr. Stindl rode in, wearing his Yellow Tour de France Jersey. I was delighted to able to see him pedal into the praca.

I was so fortunate to meet these people. And it was purely by accident. If I had started 15 minutes later or earlier the day I left Santo Domingo de la Calzada, I probably wouldn't have met Nuria or Ivan or the Nikkens and ultimately, Oscar and Luisa. If my rear axle hadn't been loose, I probably wouldn't have met the Quartels. If I hadn't lost my credencial, I wouldn't have talked to that charming trio in Boadilla del Camino who located it for me. If the Stindls hadn't stopped for a drink of water near Montes de Oca, I wouldn't have met them. And so on.

I had planned to do the Camino alone. But my experience was infinitely more rewarding to have done it with these people.