Day 19: Cáceres to Badajoz: 55 miles. 1925 feet of climbing. Cool, with headwinds.

The valley ahead of us as we started our descent out of Cáceres this morning.

Today was one of those days we all long for...a shorter, easier day that would let us recuperate while still riding.  It wasn't too challenging and it ended quickly.  Just what the doctor ordered.

Tomorrow's hills in the distance.

We got a good start out of Cáceres with the first 13 miles being on a slight downhill grade.  That made for a very fast exit from the city.  Today, again, we were basically on the same road for the entire 55 miles.

Whatever these grassy areas are called, we passed a number of active grazing lands and working farms today.

The early arrival allowed a few of us to find a nearby laundromat for one final proper washing.  I now have really clean clothes to last for the remainder of the ride.  Joy!

Cattle and sheep were on display much of today.  We'll probably ride back into olive and almond groves tomorrow.

I kept seeing signs for "Sierra" this and "Sierra" that, the names weren't important.  I always thought a "Sierra" referred to the grasslands near the mountains.  Turns out, especially in Spanish-speaking countries, it refers the the jagged mountain chains themselves.  Well then, that's what we've been riding through this past week for sure!

We passed a number of these cork trees that had their bark stripped off.  

The region that we've been riding through the past couple of days, Extremadura, is the main region in Spain for olive growing.  We've passed many olive orchards but wondered why there was no much activity going on.  Turns out, like grapes, they will be ripening and picked next month.

About 210 miles to go.  Maybe a nap is in order first.

Blog extras #3: The people we've met

Tonight, our dinner conversation turned to a bit of reflection on the events of the past nearly three weeks.  We were comparing the beers, the hotels, the landscapes (which areas reminded us of Utah or Texas or Colorado, etc.), the food and much more.

But soon, we all started sharing our thoughts about all the people we've met along the way.  And how our attitudes have been revised based on our recent experiences.  In some cases, as was pointed out to us by James, our British colleague on this trip, we Americans have had a far more negative view of ourselves.  Or, more precisely, how we felt we might be perceived by Europeans.  Even those of us who have traveled extensively throughout Europe and elsewhere had thoughts that we might not always be welcomed as Americans, especially given the current resident in the White House.  But our receptions to date strongly point otherwise.

If there is a stereotype of the indifferent or intolerant European, let this blog counter that image.  Along our daily routes, we've encountered wonderful fellow cyclists from all over the world.  They've all said hello or shouted words of encouragement (and, often, in English!).  We've had people such as the cafe owners yesterday morning, go out of their way to accommodate us and our breakfast hunger needs (which, by the way, we've also paid back through a series of 5-star reviews).

We've had very patient restaurant waitstaff help us through menus not in our native language.  We've been able to buy what we need at food stores, get help at bike shops and order gin and tonics or beers with little difficulty.  Patience has been key, but it's worked out in virtually all cases.

We've communicated through pantomime, through broken French and Spanish, through misunderstood English accents, and through Google translate.  When we were questioning our Garmin's and not sure of the route to follow, policemen, motorists or fellow cyclists helped us find our way and got us on the right roads.

No one sneered at us.  No one called us ugly Americans.  No one yelled at us.  Most people have smiled.  And, whether or not they've spoken any English, they've been helpful.  Even this morning, as we rode through a bustling small village and by a restaurant with a very busy outdoor breakfast service, people were waving hello and cheering us on.

We compared this tour's experience with those of our collective pasts, whether on previous cross-country cycling adventures or when driving across the country.  And what we've all felt is basically the same thing... and it applies to our experiences here in Europe.

While we read about the indifference, the intolerance or the antagonistic behavior of people, it's usually spoken about in terms of stereotypes.  Yet, when we're actually on the ground, going from village to village, meeting people up close and personal, that's not, for the most part, what we experience.

The takeaway for us all is a strong reminder that the human condition, the actual relationships between people on the ground, is far different from what we read in the papers.  It's not the political machines, the politicians that represent our countries, that are the heart and soul of humanity.  It's the woman running the small cafe.  It's the couple walking along the road heading to church.  It's the kids playing in the street, waving at us as we ride by.  It's the old man and his dog, sitting nearby and holding up his glass of wine and toasting us and celebrating with us the end of another successful day.

So as we drank our last glasses of beer or gin and tonics of the night (ginebra y tonica -- it helps to learn how to order it in the local language), we sat back and smiled.  The newspapers can report the troubles around the world.  But here on the ground, things look a bit more peaceful.  And the human condition survives and prospers.

Day 18: Plasencia to Cáceres: 52 miles. 2950 feet of climbing. Testy headwinds

The Old Cathedral in Plasencia.  It was right outside our hotel room window.

I'm not sure how well you'll be able to see the cities on this topical map.  I saw it this morning in the lobby of our hotel.  In the upper right, you can see the two mountains we rode over yesterday.  We continue to head southwest towards Portugal.

Thank goodness it was a short day today.  I didn't get much sleep again last night and I could really feel it as we rode out of Plasencia.

We've passed these "clubs" during the past few days.  James reminded us NOT to stop there, even if we needed a bathroom break.  Turns out, "clubs" are brothels.

The ride took us, once again, along our road companion these past few days, Route N630.  At times, it was a well-paved highway.  Other times, it was merely a service road alongside the superhighway; a cracking, rippling mess of a road.

Jesse took this from the bridge over the arroyo we've ridden through during the middle of the day.  The bridge in the distance is part of the new Linea de Alta Velocidad, the high-speed rail line being built to connect Madrid to the Portugal border.

I'm not sure if it was the sleep, the heat or merely the accumulation of miles, but not long after checking and and grabbing a bite to eat with Jesse, we both retired to the room and passed out.  We were both long overdue for a good nap.

We weren't the only ones trying to keep out of the sun today.  These guys are all lying in whatever shade they can find.

Blog extras #2: The physical v. the mental challenges of a ride

Many aspects of this long ride can be broken down into two parts:  The physical and the mental.  

Physical

The physical aspects are easy to appreciate.  Cycling for five to seven hours each day is all about working.  

It took all of us months to train for a ride such as this.  It’s not simply getting one’s legs in shape.  It’s also about building up core muscle strength, to help relieve the pressure on the lower back.  Arm strength is also important, especially when climbing.  There is so much work your arms do in helping “pull” you up the mountain.

But when the ride comes, all the prep work is put to use.  Immediately.  I really feel it in my thighs, especially after a long day of climbing.  And, even after stretching and rolling out my legs and lower back, they still ache.  We’re not having much luck finding ice available at the hotels after a day’s ride, so I can’t ice my knees and thighs.  Biofreeze helps a little but it’s palliative at best.  So I just grin and bear it.  

But fatigue does set in, especially when there are daily climbs.  There are no “rest” days on this trip that consist of a totally flat stage. Every day of this tour has included either mountain or steep hill climbs, or rolling hills.  Yes, the latter are less challenging, but they still require your legs to get you up them.

Besides my legs, there are sometimes issues with my hands.  One of the reasons I’m moving my hand positions during the day’s ride is to alleviate the pressure put on them.  The constant pulling from my hands as I climb up miles of hills can create a numbness in them.  Even on long, fat sections of the ride, the same sensation can occur.  Many people think that all your weight is on your seat when you ride.  In actuality, much of the weight is divided between your feet and your hands.  You want as little weight on your seat as possible as that can increase the potential for saddle sores (discussed previously so, as a promise to readers from the past, I won’t go into detail on that subject J).

I see every rider doing the same exercise with their hands.  One hand will come off the bike just to get the circulation flowing back again. Then it’s a switch of the hands and the other hand gets the same treatment.  That routine will repeat itself about once every five miles or so. 

After two weeks of riding, the physical toll of our riding begins to creep in.  We are slower getting up in the morning.  We are slower to get a good rhythm going when we start to ride.  Some of the better riders are, two weeks into this ride, starting to become aware of their leg fatigue.  So it’s not just wimpy me feeling that way! J  And starting and stopping, as when we break for lunch along the ride route, can also be a challenge.  My ability to rebound after a prolonged break shows how long it’s taking for me to recover.

Mental

The mental aspects of the ride are, in many ways, even more challenging than the steep mountain climbs. Why?  Because the minute I stop paying attention to the road, something bad can happen.  I might miss a turn.  I might miss seeing a pothole or other debris in the road that would damage a tire, the wheel or the bike itself.  

Just as physical fatigue kicks in either at the end of a long day or after two weeks of riding, mental fatigue can do just the same.  It can result in my daydreaming and not focusing on the road.  Or it can cause me to lose my focus on something as simple as picking up my water bottle to drink while riding at 18 miles per hour and absent-mindedly putting it back in a slot that doesn’t exist (I’m looking at the road ahead and not down at my bottle cages).  Result?  My water bottle goes careening off my bike and onto the roadway.  

Another example is the simple act of moving my hands around the handlebars.  I might readjust my hand positions, usually to relieve pressure on certain parts of my palms.  In doing so, if I’m not deliberate in placing my hands in just the right spot, I might hit the top of the bars or the brake cowlings (not the brakes themselves). That simple act of bumping into something could cause the bike to veer off and lose my balance, potentially causing a crash if I totally lose control.  Yes, it’s that kind of simple thing that requires me to remain focused all during the ride.

And there are distractions that can cause that loss of focus.  A rabbit running across the road.  A car suddenly appearing out of nowhere from a side street and starting to enter the road in front of you, even if it doesn’t actually make that turn. All those thing as well as great sights along the way, can cause me to lose my focus.

A typical ride day

There’s another aspect of the mental challenges of a long day’s ride.  You could almost break up a day into three parts:  The morning ride out of the hotel, the last miles into the next town, and everything in between.  It’s like an Oreo cookie.  The starting section out of town and the ending section coming back into another town are two halves of the same cookie.  All the spaces we ride in between those population centers is the cream filling.

We start off early in the morning with a bounce in our step and a fresh perspective on the day.  There’s an enthusiasm for the day ahead.  Bodies are fueled.  Minds are fresh.  We’re off on another adventure.  

The morning ride is sometimes a slow-going affair as we wend our way through traffic to get outside of the city.  We are awake so we are cautious of on-coming cars and trucks and it’s usually a cool, bright sunshine morning.  We’re all smiles.

Once we’re out of sight of the town and in the countryside, we’re the “in-between” section, which can range from 40-90 miles.  We hopscotch for one town to another with few aspects of an active human population in between.

For me, it is all about getting through the day.  There are days when we are riding past one farm after another.  Or past a series of industrial complexes.  Or through canyons or along rivers.  All those sights can take my mind off of the road, or the miles yet to ride.

But even if there are many interesting things to see along the route, as the miles go on, I usually am doing a series of mental exercises to figure how far I need to ride.  I use the various distances from my training rides to remind myself that, for instance, yes, I can do the next 50 miles; it’s no different than my training ride for Point A to Point B.  

I also am “playing music” in my head.  We don’t ride with headphones.  It’s too dangerous on these long rides.  In the past, some folks have hooked up Jawbone speakers to their Camelback water backpacks, so they can listen to music that has been connected to their phones via Bluetooth.

Depending on my cadence (how fast/slow I’m spinning), I am usually listening to a song at that same tempo (anything from Green Day to Squeeze).  But things along the route can trigger a song (a “long and winding road” – The Beatles; a long road to nowhere – Miles to Nowhere – The Smithereens, “ten miles behind me and ten thousand more to go” – James Taylor, etc.).  My head is like an iPod.

The last five or so miles of the day is almost a repeat of the morning, but in reverse.  When we start seeing signs for the finishing town, we all wake up just a bit more.  Not because there will be more traffic (although that’s important) but because we’ll soon be in a hot shower and off our bikes.  There’s also a bit of urgency, especially after a grueling day dealing with the distance, the hills, the heat or any combination of the three. We just want to get there.  

There’s a keen sense of that anticipation as we see our bike computers counting down the miles.  The pastures and the barbed wire fencing are behind us.  We change our cadence and our tempo.  We wind down from the long hours in the sun along emptier and less well-paved roads.

But the entering into a new town also wakes us up in another way.  The roads are now filled with signs, with people walking along the sidewalks. We have traffic lights and cars to deal with again.  There’s a spring in our step; an acceleration in our pacing.  We’re almost home for the day.  

Day 17: Salamanca to Plasencia. 84 miles. 4345 feet of climbing.

We got a lucky break and some heads up work from Jesse and Michelle as we found a place to eat outside of Salamanca.

It might not look like much, but this meal (bread and coffee off-screen) saved us this morning.

Today was one of those days when we knew we were in for a challenging time.  It was going to be a long day.  It was going to be a hot day.  And we were not going to follow our normal morning routine.  Being in Spain has required us to change our usual morning and evening schedules.  Cafes and restaurants don't open early for breakfast.  And they don't start serving dinner until at least 8pm.

The long empty road.  We saw more
hikers than we did cars on this road.

This morning, Jesse and I were up early, so we walked around the medieval section of Salamanca at 7 am, reconnoitering for any place that might be serving breakfast, as our hotel did not have a kitchen (probably the only one on this entire trip).  Eventually, we realized that our search would prove fruitless, so we all decided to take our chances and ride out of town, hoping that we'd find a place along the route later this morning.

As luck, and some ingenuity from Jesse and Michelle, we found a bar/cafe about five miles out of town that agreed to serve us breakfast.  The husband immediately started making coffees for our group while some of his early morning usual customers looked on in amazement.  While he was tending bar, his wife was cooking us up fresh eggs, jamon and bread.  A nice meal was not had by us during this trip.

The challenges of the day continued with a road closure out in the middle of nowhere that allowed our bikes through but caused Jesse to do a 60-mile detour before catching up with us.

The Spanish version of the signs
I saw earlier in France.

We had a couple of major mountain climbs today that speak for themselves.  It was slow going, especially as no one was packing a lot of fuel today to draw upon (as good as our breakfast was, it was much less than we'd normally eat).  On top of that, today we really started to feel the heat of central Spain.  And the headwinds during the last 10 miles didn't help much.  The one special treat of the day was the nearly 17 miles of downhill cruising after the last mountain climb.

Looking back on the last mountain
climb of the day.

Our late start and our late finishes meant we had less time before dinner than was usual.  But, owing to the fact that most restaurants in our neighborhood were not opening until 8:30 or 9:00 pm (some chefs chose to watch the local bullfights, thereby delaying their normal opening times), we chose to eat at our hotel.  That turned out to be a great choice as we had some much needed healthy eating while still enjoying local cuisine.

I've shown you these before.  A church steeple with a huge bird's nest.
It turns out many churches in the Salamanca area encourage these
as breeding grounds for giant white storks.

Somewhere in the middle of our ride today, we ran across this giant park with multiple granite statues and displays.  Turns out, there's a huge granite quarry down the road.  These playful displays (we all called this one Stonehenge) are scattered across a 20-acre site.

Blog extras #1: The Daily Routine

Wake-up & breakfast

Each morning starts with a 6 am alarm clock.  However, many mornings, I’m already up long before then.  It’s really weird.  You’d think that, with all the exercise from the previous day, I’d be so exhausted as to fall quickly into dreamland and sleep well into the night.  But that’s rarely the case.  Most nights, I wake up once or twice during the night.  When I’ve talked about this with fellow riders (of ANY age), they all share similar experiences.

Once I’m up, I do some stretching, then hop in the shower just to warm up my muscles and get a bit looser.  Then it’s putting on whatever cycling outfit I’m wearing that day on the road.  Not the formal dressing, but to wear something.

From there, it’s downstairs for breakfast.  Most of the hotels we are staying at offer a full buffet breakfast.  The selections vary, depending on both the country as well as how many stars the hotel has [we’ve usually been staying at 2 or 3-star hotels, occasionally a 4-star (Novotel or NH in Spain)].

Breakfast is all about loading up on fuel for the day so this becomes our major meal.  Although it varies with each person’s capacity and taste, but we usually have three courses:  Some eggs and bacon, some form of potato (or a combo in Spain with their tortillas de patatas) and maybe tomatoes; followed by either toast or fresh baguette with ham/jambon/jamon and cheese; then a bowl of cereal with fresh fruit and either milk or yoghurt.  Fresh juice and coffee or tea.  And, sure, if there are fresh croissants or pain au chocolates, at least one of those as well (those seem to now be universal and no longer the strict provenance of France).  By the way…we’re burning somewhere between 3500-5500 calories per day on these rides.

Pre-ride

Back in the room, it’s time to hit the bathroom one last time before the ride starts.  There are few, if any, places along the day’s route to stop and take care of business (which is why we all carry a small baggie with toilet paper and a wipe, just in case).  Then it’s taking off what I wore to breakfast to lube up.  There are many products but I use a combination of chamois butter and Bollocks, a butt balm from England.  Applied to those areas that will take most of the chafing action during the day as well as to the chamois in my bike shorts.  Then it’s getting dressed again and including either an undershirt, a vest, a windbreaker or a rain jacket depending on the weather conditions and the outside temperature.

Check list of everything I’ll need to carry with me today:  Road ID wristband (left wrist), phone in a waterproof baggie (center back pocket), small waterproof case (with cash, credit cards, ID and extra electrolyte tablets) (left back pocket), lip balm, aforementioned toilet baggie, and energy gels (all in my right back pocket).  We don’t look fashionable, but we carry what we need to get through the day.

Next is bringing our gear downstairs so that Jesse can load the car.  Once we’ve done that, it’s back to the room to bring down the bikes. Either in the lobby or right outside the hotel, everyone tops up the air in their tires with the one floor pump we’ve brought along for the trip.  Then it’s one last check to make sure the brakes are aligned, the Garmin’s are set and showing today’s route, and the front and rear lights are all working (when riding on a tour such as this, it’s pretty much standard to have both front and rear flashing lights to help warn oncoming traffic of our presence).

The ride

When everyone is ready, we take off.  We usually ride as a group when we are leaving a town.  The “strength in numbers” philosophy applies until we’re beyond the city limits, at which point we begin to ride at our own pace.  We might stay together or we might not see each other again until either a SAG stop or at the hotel at the end of the day’s ride.  Jane and Gene will ride together.  I might follow either Michelle or Laura depending on the number of hills.  James is the fastest in the group and quickly is off on his own.

Along the ride path, we usually stop either for a SAG stop or to take pictures.  The SAG stops are all about topping up our water bottles and getting a snack, usually some kind of energy bar (more on that in another segment).

Post-ride

When the ride ends, Jesse has already arrived at the hotel and unloaded the bags from the car. Sometimes we have access to the car and sometimes it’s locked away for the night.  So he’s gotten used to knowing the importance of having everything necessary out of the car and within reach for whoever needs whatever.

Once I’ve checked into the room, it’s the start of a major post-ride routine:  Showering, stretching, washing clothes, charging the Garmin and flashing lights and, if it’s early enough, eating a late lunch. By the end of a long day’s ride, the Garmin is down to about 15% power levels. That’s the first one to get plugged in. Then it’s my rear flashing lights. Their internal batteries are recharged by plugging in as well (my front light runs of AA batteries).  Then I recharge my phone.

The clothes washing is done in the shower.  We don’t always have either access to or the time available for a trip to a laundromat to do a proper clothes washing, so “sink washing,” as it’s sometimes referred to, is the only way to ensure that you have (more or less) clean clothes to wear for the next few days, even if you’ve brought extra shorts/shirts/socks/gloves.  There’s no way to wear sweaty clothes without suffering the consequences.

One of the tricks I learned years ago from past cross-country rides was the 2^ndwringing of clothes to help them dry quicker.  The first wringing of the clothes is in the shower itself.  Once I’m out of the shower and have dried off, having left my now clean bike clothes in there to start to drip dry, I wring them out.  Then (and I’m usually good at getting extra towels to do this), I lay out the wrung-out clothes on a towel and roll the towel up with each clothing item.  When it’s totally rolled up, I do a 2^ndwringing of the towel with the clothing inside.  That soaks up even more water and the clothes come out drier. The rest is hanging clothes up in the room (I’ve also learned to bring a set of foldable travel hangars) or laying them out the window or, in some cases when we’re on the ground floor (and it’s sunny and hot outside and it’s a casual country hotel), lay the clothes outside on either hangers or chairs or, as was the case outside of Bordeaux, on the hedges alongside the hotel.  You’d be amazed how this crowd has learned to keep clothes dry in time for the next day’s ride.

After all that, and maybe after having lunch, everyone retreats to his/her room to relax, reflect or take a nap.  Once in a while, we’re in a town that’s worth having a walk around to sightsee.

Drinks/Dinner

Around 6pm each night, we get together downstairs at the hotel bar, or at a neighboring facility, for a couple of beers/cokes/waters/whatevers, and catch up on each other’s take on the day’s ride.  Everyone is swapping stories about their own experiences including what they saw along the way, how they avoided getting a flat tire or a deer crossing the road, etc.

The true cyclists are downloading their daily ride data on Strava, a cycling website that records and catalogs the routes.  It can tell you if anyone else has ridden the same or similar route as well as whether or not you were faster/slower than others.  Yesterday alone, Laura clocked in as Queen of the Mountain on those three nasty climbs.  In other words, no other woman had either ridden up those hills or had ridden it faster. We all like to think that, for Laura’s sake (as she’s a true cyclist), it was the latter.

Then it’s on to dinner, usually between 7-8 pm depending on the country and what we can find locally. By 9:30 pm, we’re all tired and heading back to our rooms.

Post-Dinner

I’m usually trying to write up my basic notes and downloading the photos of the day during the afternoon hours and adding whatever extra color commentary, as well as swapping the photo that I missed but someone else had, and vice versa, during dinner. Back in the room, I’ll finish off the blog post and publish it.

The final things to do before going to sleep is topping up the water bottles, adding an electrolyte tablet to one of them, and lubing my bike chain.  The electrolyte tablets are to help prevent muscle cramping.  We don’t have Gatorade on this trip, so I brought enough tablets for each day’s ride throughout this route.

And then, hopefully, it’s lights out and a decent night’s sleep.  Tomorrow we start again.  

Rinse, lather, repeat. 

Or, as Jesse put it when talking to a friend of his with great amazement early in the trip, “These people are crazy!  They get up so early in the morning; eat more for breakfast than you or I consume in a day; ride 75-100 miles in the heat or rain; meet up later in the day before dinner and knock back more drinks that I’m comfortable admitting having; eat dinner where they consume more alcohol; go to bed and wake up and do it all over again the next day!  I mean, how cool is that!?”

Day 16: Villadolid to Salamanca 73 miles 2615 feet of climbing

Saw this small
statuary on bridge
leaving town
this morning.

Today was one of those days on a long ride that challenges your mind more than your body.  It didn't help that it also turned out to be a day when the recovery from the past two days caught up with many of us.  In other words, another day with no legs.  But, fortunately, there wasn't a lot of climbing.

Remember me talking about the "Blue Highways" a few days back?  Today was a route along one of those.  N620 is an old two-lane route that runs all the way from Villadolid to Salamanca.  It must have seen a lot of traffic 30 or 40 years ago.  Today, there's a much newer 4-lane super highway that runs alongside of the older road.  Today, we were on that older road.  For 46 miles!

I think there were most cyclists on the road today, being a Sunday, than there were cars (and the occasional truck).  We very much had the road to ourselves.  That was the good part.

Coming into the small village (town?) of Alejos, I noticed two church steeples.  I kid you not, about two hundred meters past that traffic circle, I was already out of the town.  So why are there two, almost identically large Cathedrals right next to each other?  I tried looking the answer up on the web.  No help there.

The tougher part was being able to concentrate on the road.  When I'm riding for more than 10 or 15 miles straight on one road, I can easily drift into a fog, not really concentrating on the road in front of me or on anything else for that matter. While constant turning can also be a drag, at least that makes the rider focus on the next turn, the next corner, the next car about to come into view.

This was it for much of today.  Hay bales everywhere.  Miles of land that looked like it got a crew cut.  

Today we were by ourselves on an empty highway.  And it didn't help that I had just read an article on the New York Times website about Madonna, lauding the performer for her many landmark activities that have set such a high bar for anyone else in her field.  So while I was riding today, I kept hearing the song "Like a Prayer" playing in my head.  For miles and miles.

Jesse in front of the city hall in La Plaza Mayor.  We wound up having lunch in one of the many outdoor cafes around the plaza.  Eating local, Jesse and I shared some smoked sardines (excellent), jamon croquettas and suckling pig.  All de-lish!

We got into Salamanca early enough to so a bit of sightseeing.  We are staying in the old quarter of the city, a UNESCO World Heritage Site, so there were many beautiful old buildings in and around our area.

Part of the Nuevo Cathedral of Salamanca.  Construction on the older Cathedral was started around the 1100's.  This "modern" Cathedral was started in the 1500's and consecrated in the 1700's.  Both are amazing.

I've gotten some e-mails from folks asking questions ranging from what kinds of foods am I eating as I travel through Europe to what is a typical daily routine for the ride.  So I've decided to add a series of extra blogs, one per day, that will each address a specific subject.  Yes, for those looking for more pictures, I'll apologize ahead of time.  They'll likely be a bit wordy.