Ok, apologies in advance for the lack of photos. It takes a surprisingly long (and tedious) amount of time to get them uploaded, but I will add as soon as I can. And apologies for the length of this post, its easy to get carried away... Hopefully next time, I can post less, more often!
So, back to this southern adventure. Yes, its all still an adventure. Thats the beauty of this trip, both the form of transport (bicycle) and location (Patagonia) hold so much variety and possibility for unknowns and adventure!
So Kelly and I set off from Punta Arenas for Puerto Natales and it was 250km over 5 days- 3 of which were very windy. But then we had 2 wind-free (or nearly all wind-free) days that really made up for it. I got overly excited the first day without wind, I couldn´t help but sing aloud on my bike- such joy. Along this route, we crossed the pampa and not much else. There were only a few towns on the way which amounted to a place to stop for coffee and a bite.
When we needed a place to pitch our tent, people always helped us out by finding a room for us to settle in, instead. But on one occasion this wasn´t an option (which is more than fine, I wanted to be making the most of the tent I had to lug around on the back of my bike!) and we camped in a rodeo one night and got the lightest of snows as we set up camp. It was a snow equivalent to a sunshower, very light, short and sunny! At the rodeo, which was also under construction, one of the construction workers, Victor, proudly showed off some fresh roadkill- an armadillo. I had no idea they were in South America (to be honest my knowledge of armadillos is quite scant) and it was very strange to see one. And they look exactly like they do in photos, with their weird long, sparse hair. One of the weirdest things so far!
I can´t exclude mention of ´The Ditch´ however. On one particularly windy day, Kelly and I pulled off the road on a particularly long stretch through the pampa for some rest and came across the most amazing ditch. Ever. It was perfectly contoured to our bodies and we sat down for a good half an hour out of the wind and laughed ourselves silly at the thought of how much pleasure we were getting from a ditch. It is this kind of thing that has broken the mood of hardship that you get sometimes, while riding out here. Amazing Ditches, soft ground to put your tent pegs into, warm showers (yes ´agua caliente´ [´hot water´] is used in a sales pitch when trying to sell the merits of accommodation in some towns down here) and a hot drink have all been little saviours that put a smile on our face.
On the Punta Arenas-Puerto Natales route we were also shown more hospitality by the local law enforcement. I rode ahead one day to cook lunch for Kelly and I and I came across a Police check point and explained all I needed was some shelter for my stove to cook some food, but Juan insisted on me using one of their cabins to cook and make myself at home. I accepted with thanks and got lunch ready with great speed in time for Kelly to arrive and eat. On leaving, Juan asked for a photo which we happily agreed to (and we got our own too, I´ll post later). He took his sweet time getting the right shot with us two gringas, as the traffic patiently waited to be ´checked through´. Very funny.
Then we got to Puerto Natales, the end of the (cycled) road for Kelly. We indulged in some great food (wood fired pizza, lemon pannacotta, and the most amazing chocolate mousse cake and brownies from ´Patagonia Dulce´) and got ready for our big hike in Torres del Paine National Park. Kelly fell in love with all the street dogs in Natales, and she was right, they were adoreable. So far, the ones we´ve met have usually been very territorial and protective of the properties they belong to and are thus quite hostile to us passer-bys. But these street dogs were the epitome of good-naturedness and charm. We don´t know how they got by, but you never got a snarl from them, only a contented look on their face as they trotted around town without a care in the world.
So we headed into the popular Torres del Paine and started our 5 day ´W-circuit´through the park which I loved so much- the highlight of the trip so far, narrowly beating out ´The Ditch´. We were surrounded by gorgeous mountains, creamy blue lakes, forest, rivers, ice and even a glacier! If you come near this part of the world, come to Torres. Just spectacular. We were very lucky to have 5 straight days wind-free (except for a bit coming into and out of the valley of the Torres) and we had glorious sunshine and warmth. We would probably have had a much harder trip if it weren´t for this great weather.
We slept a couple of hundred metres from Glacier Grey and saw icebergs float past our tent, dipped our feet in the meltwater for a bit of relief after a long 2 day´s hike to and from the glacier, wandered up the Valle Frances for beautiful sights (only needing our day packs- a welcome relief) and set our alarms for a 5.15am sunrise to see the Torres (hopefully) glow pink- which they didn´t. This however meant we need to be up at 4am to make the hike up to the lookout. Yes, we were tired puppies on that last day and snoozed our way back to Puerto Natales on the bus, happy but tired.
With the hike behind us, we skipped the next stretch to El Calafate by bike and got the bus (Kelly had a plane to catch so we had to fast-track that stretch of the trip) instead. We stayed in a nice hostel overlooking Lago Argentina and sat on the porch for a glass of champers and some baked potatoes (the Lucie-Kelly accompaniment to fine wine!) to celebrate the end of Kelly´s trip- what was a big undertaking for her first overseas trip. Cycling in the Patagonian winds- what a trooper!
We went to the Perito Moreno glacier nearby and were quite impressed by its immensity. Absolutely stunning. Apparently its one of the last glaciers to still be moving. 1.7 metres at the front break off everyday, making the best noise ever. A little like thunder and lightning, you hear it crash after the ice has already fallen a second or two before.
It was in this unassuming cafeteria at the glacier we came across one of the best hot chocolates of the trip so far. I believe Kelly rated this the highest, but my vote is probably with ´Patagonia Dulce´ in Puerto Natales, and this brings me to a new segment called- ´What Lucie thinks of all the chocolate and chocolate-related products in Patagonia´.
Surprisingly, chocolate is the ´in´ thing down here. Several towns have had one, sometimes more (see El Calafate- though they had quantity, rather than quality) chocolate shops. It all started in Ushuaia, got better in Punta Arenas where I (owner of the biggest sweet tooth) was out-sweeted by Chocolatta´s offerings, and came to a climax in Puerto Natales at Patagonia Dulce where we found heaven in their creamy hot chocolates (I was suffering somewhat after a lack of decent hot chocolate in the US, where they prefer artificially sweetened powders and hot water) and gorgeous cakes and tortes. We came to the conclusion after our first visit, however, that a visit to Patagonia Dulce could only be undertaken with the ordering of EITHER a drink OR a dessert, but not BOTH. That was suicide, as we found out on our first visit, but was rectified on our second visit as we just ordered the cake. Safe option indeed.
I will keep you posted of how the next lot stack up, but I now find myself in a position to taste test as many hot chocolates as I can.
This brings me to my last 3 days, from El Calafate to El Chalten on The Duck. Back in the saddle alone, after adios-ing to Kelly, I spent 3 days getting to the launch pad for the Carretera Austral. I met a bunch of cyclists coming from the north which was encouraging, though I couldn´t help but feel jealous of the tail winds they would (and had) experience in the km´s to come. I stopped halfway at the only place in the 220km between towns, and tested their hot chocolate- coming in 3rd after P. Natales and the ´glacier cafeteria´. I don´t know if its a patagonian thing, or a south american thing, but they have a drink here called the ´submarino´ where you get a glass of steamed milk and you get a chunk of chocolate to drop in and melt to become the hot chocolate. While this isn´t exactly the most efficient or delicious way to serve hot choc, it is the most fun!
Back to the riding though... I was feeling good the second day, but the last stretch to El Chalten (an 80km) day, the winds got the better of me and I called it a day 15km short of town and got a lift the rest of the way. It felt like I was cycling into a wind machine and it was harder every 100 metres I went. It was a pity, cos those last 15k´s were so gorgeous, the desert quickly changed to greenery and striking peaks. And that is where I leave you, in El Chalten, resting in my tent as the wind continues to blow, finally able to start reading my Russian novel I brought for this trip especially (its ´Anna Karenina´ by the way, and yes I like it very much so far).
I head off for the infamous crossing to Villa O´Higgins (the start of the Carretera Austral in Chile) on Wednesday and will be somewhere in the quiet south of the Chilean Andes for Christmas, consoling myself with some red wine, dark chocolate, and thinking of all my loved ones, friend and family- but happy to be in such a beautiful part of the world. Merry Christmas all.
Sunday, December 20, 2009
Sunday, November 29, 2009
And so the Big One began…
I left the United States behind and headed for old South America way. A quick stopover in Buenos Aires brought me together with my travelling companion, Kelly. And it also meant a visit to the Recoleta Cemetery where Eva Peron is buried (at least if you believe that- some reckon her body was stolen and is in Europe somewhere!), along with some other famous families (which I didn´t know anything about)- full of beautiful old graves, in a style only the Catholics can do.
But then we were off again for ´El Fin del Mundo´- The end of the world. The town of Ushuaia (oos-why-a) on the Argentinean side of Tierra Del Fuego is the most southerly town in the world, and a great place to start one´s adventures. Quite a touristy town because of this claim, but a stunning city nonetheless. It´s on the water and surrounded by gorgeous snow-capped mountains. The arrival from the air is fabulous- make sure you get a window seat! The normal announcement about keeping electronics turned off during departure and landing was duly ignored as we all whipped out our cameras to snap away.
I left the United States behind and headed for old South America way. A quick stopover in Buenos Aires brought me together with my travelling companion, Kelly. And it also meant a visit to the Recoleta Cemetery where Eva Peron is buried (at least if you believe that- some reckon her body was stolen and is in Europe somewhere!), along with some other famous families (which I didn´t know anything about)- full of beautiful old graves, in a style only the Catholics can do.
But then we were off again for ´El Fin del Mundo´- The end of the world. The town of Ushuaia (oos-why-a) on the Argentinean side of Tierra Del Fuego is the most southerly town in the world, and a great place to start one´s adventures. Quite a touristy town because of this claim, but a stunning city nonetheless. It´s on the water and surrounded by gorgeous snow-capped mountains. The arrival from the air is fabulous- make sure you get a window seat! The normal announcement about keeping electronics turned off during departure and landing was duly ignored as we all whipped out our cameras to snap away.
The air was clean and crisp and the sunlight hours long. The night finally coming at about 10pm, and the sun really gone at 10.30pm. And this has proved to be very handy when we got on the road, even if it does demand the use of an eye-mask when camping, as its broad daylight all day and most of the evening you can afford to push on when cycling if you have to. (And also prolongs the batteries in your headlamp!)
Kelly putting her bike together.
The Duck in 2-D form.
The odometer is set to zero.
We officially started our bike ride at the start of Ruta 3, in the Tierra del Fuego National Park. A famous start/end point for people´s pan-american bike rides- the end of the road. The start of the road for us…
We went back to the hostel and set off again the next day. We agreed on a few short 50km days to warm up with and would build up as we went, but it looks like 50-60km is a more likely target for much of South America. Much larger distances aren´t really possible for continuous stretches yet, as we´ve found out, due to the weather and condition of roads.
Well, back to that day from Ushuaia to Lago Escondido (60km from the hostel)…
It snowed. It snowed on us. 2 young Australian girls got caught in the snow, coming up to the Garibaldi mountain Pass. We had a late start due to the fact we knew it wouldn´t take more than a few hours and we were still not in ´hard-core commando mode´ (and to tell you the truth we still aren´t!) but this late start meant we hit this particular pass on a cold afternoon when the moisture turned to heavy rain turned to snow. So we whipped on all our wet weather gear and plowed on and over the mountain and into the rain on the other side, down to the Police check-point (a semi-regular occurrence so far) to ask about a hotel we´d read about that was on the lake we intended to camp at (there is no town at Lago Escondido). Their response- ¨No función¨. But the Policia welcomed us in to dry off and hear of our plans. Handed hot cups of coffee and sugary pastries we felt a whole lot better. As it was only a matter of being wet now we agreed we could camp. But they offered us their office to sleep in for the night and we accepted happily. Though manageable, semi-wet clothes really are a hassle when camping (in the rain). So we were pleased with our situation at that point (agreeing all of that day held for a great story on our return), but then the firemen up the road heard about us on the radio and came up to get us to go back to their station 1/2km up the road as they had more room, a kitchen etc. and a television (they found this point worth emphasizing).There was a fabulous exchange on the radio as we drove to the station which went something like this (in Spanish even Kelly could understand)…
As it turned out, this particular fire brigade has seen a lot of bike tourists come through and all have left messages of gratitude in the visitor´s book. People from all over the world wanting to cycle Patagonia like me and Kel. That evening I got to practice my Spanish on 3 very patient Argentineans while the soccer played in the background, but for Kelly it was mild torture. The game didn´t finish till 11.30pm and as it had a been a long day, sleep was first on our minds. So when we finally rolled out our sleeping bags in their living room and turned the lights off, it was midnight. I guess for these latino night-owls, that’s not such a problem, but for us we were exhausted and needed to be up early.
And then we hit them. Or they hit us. The minute we left the safety of ´Club Nautico Camping´ we were hit by the strong Patagonian winds so many cyclists have hit before, here in the summer time. Its strange to think, but people come here in the winter instead because the weather is calmer, no winds. Considering we are rugged up in clothes due the cold even in summer, I can´t imagine what its like in winter.
So we plugged on with an estancia our aim at 60km. But riding at 11km/hr 60km takes a long time. We even had a lie down at one point just to have a break from the winds. For me it was a mental break. I could ride in the winds, but mentally they´re so defeating- knowing you aren´t getting anywhere after all the time you spend pedaling. We were within sight of the estancia (a sheep or cattle station with homesteads that are on the gourmet-pricey side, but that usually let you camp for nothing) and it was taking a good half hour to ride those last few kms, and it was here our plans changed. After one day in the strong winds we agreed once we crossed the border into Chile the next day (where the road turns to gravel + strong winds) we would try our best to get a ride on a bus to the ferry and onto Punta Arenas. We would have spent 4-5 days in some depressing winds not getting very far and not passing through scenery we wouldn´t see otherwise. It felt a little like cheating, but we agreed to make the most of the short time Kelly has here and get on to the mainland. As we set off for the last km to the estancia we passed a truck pulled over and chatted to the driver about the weather, when he, Hector, asked if we wanted a ride to the border. ¨Yes, we would love that¨. It was loud and bumpy ride across the border (the road between the 2 border towns is not maintained and is very loose gravel), but we got there in one piece along with our bikes, strapped onto the rear trailer which was carrying those rally cars used for charities (destined for France apparently).
A bit like Mary and Joseph, the only hotel in town was booked full, so we camped outside, somewhat protected from the wind. Though unlike Mary and Joseph, we did not have a new born messiah by morning, only some bad bed-hair and some mouse eaten rolls (they got into Kelly´s pack outside). The lovely Chilean border official from the previous day had told us to return in the morning and he would help us get a lift off the island. Apparently our route to the western side was frequented very little by anyone possible to carry our bikes too, so we got on a bus to the north and crossed onto the mainland by 2pm. The landscape was quiet and sparse, but very beautiful. Its only tarnished by the inability to cycle through it because of the winds.
Kelly putting her bike together.
The Duck in 2-D form.
The odometer is set to zero.
We officially started our bike ride at the start of Ruta 3, in the Tierra del Fuego National Park. A famous start/end point for people´s pan-american bike rides- the end of the road. The start of the road for us…
We went back to the hostel and set off again the next day. We agreed on a few short 50km days to warm up with and would build up as we went, but it looks like 50-60km is a more likely target for much of South America. Much larger distances aren´t really possible for continuous stretches yet, as we´ve found out, due to the weather and condition of roads.
Well, back to that day from Ushuaia to Lago Escondido (60km from the hostel)…
It snowed. It snowed on us. 2 young Australian girls got caught in the snow, coming up to the Garibaldi mountain Pass. We had a late start due to the fact we knew it wouldn´t take more than a few hours and we were still not in ´hard-core commando mode´ (and to tell you the truth we still aren´t!) but this late start meant we hit this particular pass on a cold afternoon when the moisture turned to heavy rain turned to snow. So we whipped on all our wet weather gear and plowed on and over the mountain and into the rain on the other side, down to the Police check-point (a semi-regular occurrence so far) to ask about a hotel we´d read about that was on the lake we intended to camp at (there is no town at Lago Escondido). Their response- ¨No función¨. But the Policia welcomed us in to dry off and hear of our plans. Handed hot cups of coffee and sugary pastries we felt a whole lot better. As it was only a matter of being wet now we agreed we could camp. But they offered us their office to sleep in for the night and we accepted happily. Though manageable, semi-wet clothes really are a hassle when camping (in the rain). So we were pleased with our situation at that point (agreeing all of that day held for a great story on our return), but then the firemen up the road heard about us on the radio and came up to get us to go back to their station 1/2km up the road as they had more room, a kitchen etc. and a television (they found this point worth emphasizing).There was a fabulous exchange on the radio as we drove to the station which went something like this (in Spanish even Kelly could understand)…
- ¨I´m coming back with 2 Australian girls and their bikes¨
-¨Eh?!¨
-¨Eh?!¨
As it turned out, this particular fire brigade has seen a lot of bike tourists come through and all have left messages of gratitude in the visitor´s book. People from all over the world wanting to cycle Patagonia like me and Kel. That evening I got to practice my Spanish on 3 very patient Argentineans while the soccer played in the background, but for Kelly it was mild torture. The game didn´t finish till 11.30pm and as it had a been a long day, sleep was first on our minds. So when we finally rolled out our sleeping bags in their living room and turned the lights off, it was midnight. I guess for these latino night-owls, that’s not such a problem, but for us we were exhausted and needed to be up early.
We had a snow- and hassle-free day the following day to Tolhuin at Lago Fagnano and we arrived with lots of time to hit the bakery for more churros filled with ´dulce de leche´ (caramel) and empanadas (pastry turn-overs with meat or veggies inside). And I got to fly the kite that was given to me by a couple in Bodega Bay (California) in the very strong winds coming off the Fuegian Andes mountains we were riding away from.
Our first big day´s riding turned into a very big day´s ride. We got to our target of 80ish-km but didn´t feel it was a good/safe/legal place to camp (it was 2 properties with houses but no one around and signs telling you not to trespass, we thought we shouldn´t try our luck in the middle of nowhere) and the plains on either side didn´t afford any shelter from the wind so we decided to push on another 25km to Rio Grande as we had some energy and daylight on our side. We got in to a nice place through the town at 7pm after clocking up 118km that day. Whilst it was a camp ground, it was just as cheap (and much warmer) to stay inside in a wee auditorium so we holed up there and spread our stuff out for the next day too as we decided to rest up after such a long slog. We met another cyclist who we´d met briefly on our first day in the national park and talked a bit about the winds ahead on the plains.
Our first big day´s riding turned into a very big day´s ride. We got to our target of 80ish-km but didn´t feel it was a good/safe/legal place to camp (it was 2 properties with houses but no one around and signs telling you not to trespass, we thought we shouldn´t try our luck in the middle of nowhere) and the plains on either side didn´t afford any shelter from the wind so we decided to push on another 25km to Rio Grande as we had some energy and daylight on our side. We got in to a nice place through the town at 7pm after clocking up 118km that day. Whilst it was a camp ground, it was just as cheap (and much warmer) to stay inside in a wee auditorium so we holed up there and spread our stuff out for the next day too as we decided to rest up after such a long slog. We met another cyclist who we´d met briefly on our first day in the national park and talked a bit about the winds ahead on the plains.
And then we hit them. Or they hit us. The minute we left the safety of ´Club Nautico Camping´ we were hit by the strong Patagonian winds so many cyclists have hit before, here in the summer time. Its strange to think, but people come here in the winter instead because the weather is calmer, no winds. Considering we are rugged up in clothes due the cold even in summer, I can´t imagine what its like in winter.
So we plugged on with an estancia our aim at 60km. But riding at 11km/hr 60km takes a long time. We even had a lie down at one point just to have a break from the winds. For me it was a mental break. I could ride in the winds, but mentally they´re so defeating- knowing you aren´t getting anywhere after all the time you spend pedaling. We were within sight of the estancia (a sheep or cattle station with homesteads that are on the gourmet-pricey side, but that usually let you camp for nothing) and it was taking a good half hour to ride those last few kms, and it was here our plans changed. After one day in the strong winds we agreed once we crossed the border into Chile the next day (where the road turns to gravel + strong winds) we would try our best to get a ride on a bus to the ferry and onto Punta Arenas. We would have spent 4-5 days in some depressing winds not getting very far and not passing through scenery we wouldn´t see otherwise. It felt a little like cheating, but we agreed to make the most of the short time Kelly has here and get on to the mainland. As we set off for the last km to the estancia we passed a truck pulled over and chatted to the driver about the weather, when he, Hector, asked if we wanted a ride to the border. ¨Yes, we would love that¨. It was loud and bumpy ride across the border (the road between the 2 border towns is not maintained and is very loose gravel), but we got there in one piece along with our bikes, strapped onto the rear trailer which was carrying those rally cars used for charities (destined for France apparently).
A bit like Mary and Joseph, the only hotel in town was booked full, so we camped outside, somewhat protected from the wind. Though unlike Mary and Joseph, we did not have a new born messiah by morning, only some bad bed-hair and some mouse eaten rolls (they got into Kelly´s pack outside). The lovely Chilean border official from the previous day had told us to return in the morning and he would help us get a lift off the island. Apparently our route to the western side was frequented very little by anyone possible to carry our bikes too, so we got on a bus to the north and crossed onto the mainland by 2pm. The landscape was quiet and sparse, but very beautiful. Its only tarnished by the inability to cycle through it because of the winds.
The landscape of Tierra del Fuego. 
Again, found in the middle of nowhere, we were helped out by some employees of the local petroleum plant. After some initial confusion about possible transport onwards to Punta Arenas we were taken in by the parents of Philipe, in a nearby town. There we relaxed, ate, and made friends with their cute dog ´Blanca´ until our lift the next day to Punta Arenas, our current location where we have done some more eating, ALOT more sleeping and visited a nearby penguin colony, as below.
The joys of civilisation
Again, found in the middle of nowhere, we were helped out by some employees of the local petroleum plant. After some initial confusion about possible transport onwards to Punta Arenas we were taken in by the parents of Philipe, in a nearby town. There we relaxed, ate, and made friends with their cute dog ´Blanca´ until our lift the next day to Punta Arenas, our current location where we have done some more eating, ALOT more sleeping and visited a nearby penguin colony, as below.
The joys of civilisation
On a sad note, a good friend of mine, Hazel Burns, passed away on Monday 16th of November just as I set off on this tour. She had been battling a rare form of osteosarcoma (bone cancer) for the past 2 years and died peacefully in her sleep, 2 weeks after her 25th birthday. Some of you have met her or heard about her. She was a special person and will be sorely missed. This is a link to a page set up in her memory where one can donate to bone cancer research or just to read about her story. We miss you Hazel.
Saturday, November 28, 2009
Photos from the Giro d´Oregon e California
As promised...
(sorry for the delay- most internet cafes have had trouble uploading photos)
Seals sunning themselves in Waldport. At first, hearing them bark was endearing, but it grew thin as you tried to sleep and all you hear is seals barking!
Sitting on top of the fog after climbing up a big hill in the redwoods, out of Crescent City, CA.
The fog. Scary stuff.
The magical redwoods...
(sorry for the delay- most internet cafes have had trouble uploading photos)
Seals sunning themselves in Waldport. At first, hearing them bark was endearing, but it grew thin as you tried to sleep and all you hear is seals barking!
Sitting on top of the fog after climbing up a big hill in the redwoods, out of Crescent City, CA.
The fog. Scary stuff.
The magical redwoods...
I got to cycle the quiet and scenic Avenue of the Giants. Very special.
The sun coming through the Redwoods as I pass.
The coast at Fort Bragg.
That wonderful feeling as I approached the beautiful Golden Gate Bridge after 3 weeks on the road. Glorious!
Typical Pacific Heights housing style. Reminds you of ´Full House´, huh?
And some cute street art in downtown San Francisco...
Friday, November 13, 2009
Rolling into San Francisco
So, I've arrived, I've made it. 3 weeks from the coast outta Portland to San Francisco City.
While the last few days were tiring (my legs were getting pretty sick of pedaling), the glee and sense of satisfaction as I saw San Francisco and the wonderful Golden Gate Bridge approach was worth it all.
So to back track a bit, concerning the actual ride, I must say that the southern section of the coastal ride on Highway 1 was pretty tough. Perhaps if I was in better shape it wouldn't have hit me so hard, but as it was, after doing some big hills in Humboldt State Park, once I hit Highway 1 on the coast the endless winding, and steep (but short) uphills and downhills really took its toll. All I wanted was to have a stretch of a few miles to get a pace set, but all I got was never-ending gear shifting as I went up and down along the coast (which was a very impressive coast- I have to admit).
Its also pretty narrow (re. sometimes non-existent shoulders of the road to ride on) but its a well known bike-riding route so many people are patient with you and give you the space to ride. I got a lot smiles and waves as I made my way up a particularly steep section of the route on Sunday arvo as people drove past, on their way home to San Francisco (I was within a day's drive at this stage) which was lovely. There's nothing quite like a smile or a thumb's up to give you the push to keep on going. So if you see a bike-tourer give them a wave- they'll probably appreciate the encouragement!
The scenery was surprisingly familiar, what with the dry scrubland and gum trees that line the coast- if it weren't the direction of car travel, I could've sworn I was in country Australia at times. And there was also a little agriculture I was surprised to see. I didn't hit wine valleys, but there's definitely that gourmet element that is now a part of central California.
So as I mentioned, I was pretty tired in those last few days, on account of such a big trip with so little exercise in preparation, but I now feel it was a good warm up, along with this week off now (between arriving in San Fran and getting to Ushuaia) and feel ready for what's ahead. I'm also keeping in mind that I'll have a much more relaxed schedule for South America, and can thus stop and start as I please, which I like the sound of!
This trip has definitely given me a taste for more bike-touring, and I hope that I can recruit a couple of friends or family for my next outing- it really does lighten the load when you are with others. Though, having said that, I have found it very manageable touring solo. I don't have an excess amount of stuff to carry, so its possible to carry all the essentials on your own (I do only have one set of rear panniers after all). I hope to head off on a couple of multi-day or week-long rides back in and around Melbourne when I return. Its such a nice way to travel.
Before I go, I want to thank all those I've met along the Oregon and Californian coast. So many friendly people who have shown kindness, generosity and friendliness that made this ride so enjoyable, and of course, all those other cyclists who are travelling on their own adventure and have been able to share advice, conversation and good will- they really are a good breed!
Muchas gracias!
(And apologies for the lack of photos in this entry, they are to come very soon, unfortunately this computer doesn't want to read my camera.)
P.S. Only one puncture this whole trip- courtesy of the bike mechanic over-inflating my tyres when I had a tune-up in Arcata! I feel rather happy about that! I don't believe the same will be said of those gravel-roads in South America. And on that note, I'm heading out to buy some tougher tyres...
While the last few days were tiring (my legs were getting pretty sick of pedaling), the glee and sense of satisfaction as I saw San Francisco and the wonderful Golden Gate Bridge approach was worth it all.
So to back track a bit, concerning the actual ride, I must say that the southern section of the coastal ride on Highway 1 was pretty tough. Perhaps if I was in better shape it wouldn't have hit me so hard, but as it was, after doing some big hills in Humboldt State Park, once I hit Highway 1 on the coast the endless winding, and steep (but short) uphills and downhills really took its toll. All I wanted was to have a stretch of a few miles to get a pace set, but all I got was never-ending gear shifting as I went up and down along the coast (which was a very impressive coast- I have to admit).
Its also pretty narrow (re. sometimes non-existent shoulders of the road to ride on) but its a well known bike-riding route so many people are patient with you and give you the space to ride. I got a lot smiles and waves as I made my way up a particularly steep section of the route on Sunday arvo as people drove past, on their way home to San Francisco (I was within a day's drive at this stage) which was lovely. There's nothing quite like a smile or a thumb's up to give you the push to keep on going. So if you see a bike-tourer give them a wave- they'll probably appreciate the encouragement!
The scenery was surprisingly familiar, what with the dry scrubland and gum trees that line the coast- if it weren't the direction of car travel, I could've sworn I was in country Australia at times. And there was also a little agriculture I was surprised to see. I didn't hit wine valleys, but there's definitely that gourmet element that is now a part of central California.
So as I mentioned, I was pretty tired in those last few days, on account of such a big trip with so little exercise in preparation, but I now feel it was a good warm up, along with this week off now (between arriving in San Fran and getting to Ushuaia) and feel ready for what's ahead. I'm also keeping in mind that I'll have a much more relaxed schedule for South America, and can thus stop and start as I please, which I like the sound of!
This trip has definitely given me a taste for more bike-touring, and I hope that I can recruit a couple of friends or family for my next outing- it really does lighten the load when you are with others. Though, having said that, I have found it very manageable touring solo. I don't have an excess amount of stuff to carry, so its possible to carry all the essentials on your own (I do only have one set of rear panniers after all). I hope to head off on a couple of multi-day or week-long rides back in and around Melbourne when I return. Its such a nice way to travel.
Before I go, I want to thank all those I've met along the Oregon and Californian coast. So many friendly people who have shown kindness, generosity and friendliness that made this ride so enjoyable, and of course, all those other cyclists who are travelling on their own adventure and have been able to share advice, conversation and good will- they really are a good breed!
Muchas gracias!
(And apologies for the lack of photos in this entry, they are to come very soon, unfortunately this computer doesn't want to read my camera.)
P.S. Only one puncture this whole trip- courtesy of the bike mechanic over-inflating my tyres when I had a tune-up in Arcata! I feel rather happy about that! I don't believe the same will be said of those gravel-roads in South America. And on that note, I'm heading out to buy some tougher tyres...
Monday, November 2, 2009
Portland/Tillamook/South of Tillamook -> Arcata
Yeah, so, its offically from Portland - San Fran, but when the day arrived, with my trusty co-pilot Ingvill, we headed for the coast and skipped some boring outer-Portland riding. The ride officially started south of Tillamook (cheese country) half way up the hill of Cape Lookout (my sister Gaby has added these photos already).
It was a perfect start with clear weather (unlike most of my time on the Oregon coast). I succeeded in possibly the world's shortest day of bike touring with about 20km ridden by the end of the day- I did only start at 3pm after a late lunch and a glass of sparkling red, in my defence!
I stayed with a lovely retired couple and their nephew in Pacific City that evening (courtesy of warmshowers.org- a website for bike tourists that open their homes/yards to passing cyclists, check it out). From there on, its been camping in state parks where they have cheap hiker/biker camp sites for $4 a night. They're well maintained, some even supply free popcorn for some unknown reason (perhaps because its delicious??). I've followed Highway 101 which pretty much sticks to the coast for some great views that honestly out-wow most of the Great Ocean Road (sorry diehard Victorians!). But it also brings damp weather (possibly by fault of my own for travelling during this time of year, maybe?) which can be a little deflating. To get to your camp at the end of the day and still be a little damp isn't the best feeling in the world. But a hot shower usually makes up for it.
Crossing into California has been a warm and dry relief (so far). I crossed 4 days ago and its been pretty good ever since, though fog can be a problem. Seriously. You cannot see and cannot be seen. A wonderful example was last friday when I left Crescent City (one of the dingey-er areas of the US) in full, bright sunshine and climbed up a biggish hill into the Redwoods Forest, only to come down the other side, along the coast, and be sitting above an enormous layer of fog- quite heavenly, in every sense of the word. But then as I got closer to the bottom of the mountain, it became obvious its quite dangerous to ride in cos you really can't be seen from a distance. But that's what luck and bike lights are for!
And here I am in Arcata, after a few toasty nights at the Redwoods Hostel- which will close down in January 2010- its an historic building that needs too many repairs :( (http://www.norcalhostels.org/redwoods/). Arcata's a cool university town. Lots of great shops to get good food, and generally a good vibe. It definitely belongs on the West Coast. Still stuck with that flower-power aura from the 70's. I also did my first century of the bike ride so far, getting here (unfortunately a century in kilometre terms [100km] is no way near as impressive as the sort that comes in the 'miles' variety [~160KM]).
Next is a bit of an inland turn, then I'll get on California 1 and hit the coast again, singing my favourite Decemberist's song 'California One' along the way. Then San Fran next week before heading down old South America way, with some tougher legs than previously had 2 weeks ago.
Till then, peace and squirrels.
Also, no update on my bike's christening, I still can't name her/him/it. At this point in time, its the 'duck-truck'. I have a little rubber-ducky companion I have temporarily dubbed 'Eric'. I'll give that a test ride and see how it flies... Though I agree, it doesn't seem fair to re-neg on a name and change it, oh well!
It was a perfect start with clear weather (unlike most of my time on the Oregon coast). I succeeded in possibly the world's shortest day of bike touring with about 20km ridden by the end of the day- I did only start at 3pm after a late lunch and a glass of sparkling red, in my defence!
I stayed with a lovely retired couple and their nephew in Pacific City that evening (courtesy of warmshowers.org- a website for bike tourists that open their homes/yards to passing cyclists, check it out). From there on, its been camping in state parks where they have cheap hiker/biker camp sites for $4 a night. They're well maintained, some even supply free popcorn for some unknown reason (perhaps because its delicious??). I've followed Highway 101 which pretty much sticks to the coast for some great views that honestly out-wow most of the Great Ocean Road (sorry diehard Victorians!). But it also brings damp weather (possibly by fault of my own for travelling during this time of year, maybe?) which can be a little deflating. To get to your camp at the end of the day and still be a little damp isn't the best feeling in the world. But a hot shower usually makes up for it.
Crossing into California has been a warm and dry relief (so far). I crossed 4 days ago and its been pretty good ever since, though fog can be a problem. Seriously. You cannot see and cannot be seen. A wonderful example was last friday when I left Crescent City (one of the dingey-er areas of the US) in full, bright sunshine and climbed up a biggish hill into the Redwoods Forest, only to come down the other side, along the coast, and be sitting above an enormous layer of fog- quite heavenly, in every sense of the word. But then as I got closer to the bottom of the mountain, it became obvious its quite dangerous to ride in cos you really can't be seen from a distance. But that's what luck and bike lights are for!
And here I am in Arcata, after a few toasty nights at the Redwoods Hostel- which will close down in January 2010- its an historic building that needs too many repairs :( (http://www.norcalhostels.org/redwoods/). Arcata's a cool university town. Lots of great shops to get good food, and generally a good vibe. It definitely belongs on the West Coast. Still stuck with that flower-power aura from the 70's. I also did my first century of the bike ride so far, getting here (unfortunately a century in kilometre terms [100km] is no way near as impressive as the sort that comes in the 'miles' variety [~160KM]).
Next is a bit of an inland turn, then I'll get on California 1 and hit the coast again, singing my favourite Decemberist's song 'California One' along the way. Then San Fran next week before heading down old South America way, with some tougher legs than previously had 2 weeks ago.
Till then, peace and squirrels.
Also, no update on my bike's christening, I still can't name her/him/it. At this point in time, its the 'duck-truck'. I have a little rubber-ducky companion I have temporarily dubbed 'Eric'. I'll give that a test ride and see how it flies... Though I agree, it doesn't seem fair to re-neg on a name and change it, oh well!
Saturday, October 31, 2009
Departure from Portland
Lucie visited her friend from uni, Ingvill, who is now living in Portland. Ingvill took these photos of Lucie's departure for her Tour de Oregon/California.
Monday, October 19, 2009
Preparation in Portland
My first post!
No riding yet, but I'm now prepared to head off after a week staying in Portland with my friends Ingvill and David (who were lovely hosts). It was a week of furious comparing and shopping. I knew that because I was travelling for months before this trip I couldn't bring my bike from home, so I had my heart set on picking one up here on the West coast. I looked around at ALOT of bike shops- some really good ones with lovely, helpful staff, but settled on a pretty black one from a place called Performance Bikes. I was somewhat limited on range- while Portland is a very bike-friendly city, there isn't much in the way of touring-specific bikes. Most people will make up their touring bikes from scratch, but due to time constraints, I had to buy a rather nondescript hybrid and quickly add on the extras to make it 'tourable' (I hope to invent a few words as I go along too!). Its a Fuji Absolute 2.0, and I'm not sure if its perfect as is, or whether it may need a bit of tweaking to ensure it handles the tough roads ahead, in South America. Which is why this 'Giro d'Oregon/California' is important- it'll let me iron out any kinks before the Big One.
So tomorrow I head to the coast to start the 1,112km (Google maps- I hope they're right) ride. As I've been stuffing myself stupid these last few weeks with lots of good food and wine, I'm currently on the rounder side and am thus a little out of shape, so I'm gonna start with lots of short days to build up some strength, and hopefully in 3 1/2 weeks- the time I've given myself to get to San Fran, I'll be ready to tackle the winds of Patagonia with Kelly, my travelling companion for the first month.
Here's a brief list of what I'm starting with, which may or may not change as I get on. I dream that it'll get lighter, but I doubt that's gonna happen...
*Fuji Absolute 2.0 bike with 2 bottle cages, lights, speedo, fenders, seat post with suspension, Topeak rear rack (one of the most important parts- I merely pedal my bike- the rack carries my gear) and Ortlieb rear panniers. Tools and spare tube.
*Sierra Designs 2 person Electron tent, Thermarest Z-lite sleeping pad, headlamp, Macpac Latitude sleeping bag, pillow, cooking utensils, Macpac fuel stove and Steripen UV filter and pre-filter drink bottle.
*One set of thermals, cycling knicks, windproof tights, several cycling tops, fleece vest, warm riding jacket, beanie, zip-off pants, water-proof pants and jacket, and light hiking boots.
*Camera/s of course (my zippy Canon IXUS 80IS, and trustworthy Olympus Camedia C-760) and iRiver. Guidebooks and notebooks (these may become negotiable as times goes on) and toiletries.
Overall, I've got alot of stuff here in Portland and even in a few cities on the way here. I brought my sleeping bag and stove from home and a few bits of clothing, but the rest was bought here. The US has a great range of outdoor gear here, and its alot cheaper than back home. Add to that a currently favourable exchange rate, and you've got one happy camper (or should that be cyclist?). I highly recommend buying gear here if you're around, even if its just to take home- you can get a great deal.
On an aside, the US is a very cool place to visit for all kinds of reasons. Great cities, big and small. Yes, they can be on the business-y side and a little bland, but there are some really nice places, and almost all have friendly people in them. A few stand-outs are New York City (for everything), Boston for some laidback history, and Portland for its setting (Mount Hood is a beautiful back-drop, and there are trees everywhere- so much so you can't see Mount Hood when you walk up the hills for a view!) and community living. There are lots of homey cafes, co-ops are quite common here (and in alot of unexpected places throughout the country) and there's a real emphasis on local and fresh produce. Not the kind of things you come to expect of America, but the left-wing here is very strong and active. And if cities aren't your thing, then there's always the natural wonders that cover this place. There's literally every type of climate, landscape and setting you can imagine. Each corner has its own personality, and you start to understand how hard it is to get everyone on board when it comes to politics and cultural/racial issues. The plains of Montana are so far removed from New York City its hard to imagine they're a part of one nation. I highly recommend you come visit here if you're at all interested.
I hope to update this in the coming months, if for no other reason but to have a record. I'd love people to comment or ask questions. I'm really a novice bike-tourer (and by novice I mean ABSOLUTE BEGINNER) and am learning as I go so pass on tips and advice!
May the winds always come from behind!
P.S. I'm currently pondering a name for my noble steed and also in need of a mascot. I shall keep you posted of any developments.
No riding yet, but I'm now prepared to head off after a week staying in Portland with my friends Ingvill and David (who were lovely hosts). It was a week of furious comparing and shopping. I knew that because I was travelling for months before this trip I couldn't bring my bike from home, so I had my heart set on picking one up here on the West coast. I looked around at ALOT of bike shops- some really good ones with lovely, helpful staff, but settled on a pretty black one from a place called Performance Bikes. I was somewhat limited on range- while Portland is a very bike-friendly city, there isn't much in the way of touring-specific bikes. Most people will make up their touring bikes from scratch, but due to time constraints, I had to buy a rather nondescript hybrid and quickly add on the extras to make it 'tourable' (I hope to invent a few words as I go along too!). Its a Fuji Absolute 2.0, and I'm not sure if its perfect as is, or whether it may need a bit of tweaking to ensure it handles the tough roads ahead, in South America. Which is why this 'Giro d'Oregon/California' is important- it'll let me iron out any kinks before the Big One.
So tomorrow I head to the coast to start the 1,112km (Google maps- I hope they're right) ride. As I've been stuffing myself stupid these last few weeks with lots of good food and wine, I'm currently on the rounder side and am thus a little out of shape, so I'm gonna start with lots of short days to build up some strength, and hopefully in 3 1/2 weeks- the time I've given myself to get to San Fran, I'll be ready to tackle the winds of Patagonia with Kelly, my travelling companion for the first month.
Here's a brief list of what I'm starting with, which may or may not change as I get on. I dream that it'll get lighter, but I doubt that's gonna happen...
*Fuji Absolute 2.0 bike with 2 bottle cages, lights, speedo, fenders, seat post with suspension, Topeak rear rack (one of the most important parts- I merely pedal my bike- the rack carries my gear) and Ortlieb rear panniers. Tools and spare tube.
*Sierra Designs 2 person Electron tent, Thermarest Z-lite sleeping pad, headlamp, Macpac Latitude sleeping bag, pillow, cooking utensils, Macpac fuel stove and Steripen UV filter and pre-filter drink bottle.
*One set of thermals, cycling knicks, windproof tights, several cycling tops, fleece vest, warm riding jacket, beanie, zip-off pants, water-proof pants and jacket, and light hiking boots.
*Camera/s of course (my zippy Canon IXUS 80IS, and trustworthy Olympus Camedia C-760) and iRiver. Guidebooks and notebooks (these may become negotiable as times goes on) and toiletries.
Overall, I've got alot of stuff here in Portland and even in a few cities on the way here. I brought my sleeping bag and stove from home and a few bits of clothing, but the rest was bought here. The US has a great range of outdoor gear here, and its alot cheaper than back home. Add to that a currently favourable exchange rate, and you've got one happy camper (or should that be cyclist?). I highly recommend buying gear here if you're around, even if its just to take home- you can get a great deal.
On an aside, the US is a very cool place to visit for all kinds of reasons. Great cities, big and small. Yes, they can be on the business-y side and a little bland, but there are some really nice places, and almost all have friendly people in them. A few stand-outs are New York City (for everything), Boston for some laidback history, and Portland for its setting (Mount Hood is a beautiful back-drop, and there are trees everywhere- so much so you can't see Mount Hood when you walk up the hills for a view!) and community living. There are lots of homey cafes, co-ops are quite common here (and in alot of unexpected places throughout the country) and there's a real emphasis on local and fresh produce. Not the kind of things you come to expect of America, but the left-wing here is very strong and active. And if cities aren't your thing, then there's always the natural wonders that cover this place. There's literally every type of climate, landscape and setting you can imagine. Each corner has its own personality, and you start to understand how hard it is to get everyone on board when it comes to politics and cultural/racial issues. The plains of Montana are so far removed from New York City its hard to imagine they're a part of one nation. I highly recommend you come visit here if you're at all interested.
I hope to update this in the coming months, if for no other reason but to have a record. I'd love people to comment or ask questions. I'm really a novice bike-tourer (and by novice I mean ABSOLUTE BEGINNER) and am learning as I go so pass on tips and advice!
May the winds always come from behind!
P.S. I'm currently pondering a name for my noble steed and also in need of a mascot. I shall keep you posted of any developments.
Thursday, August 13, 2009
Viva la bicicleta!
Back where it all began ...
Lucie will try and post updates about her ride here as she goes.
I am setting out on a very long bike ride in South America, starting at the end of next year. I reckon it will take 6-10 months depending on speed and people’s wishes to stop in certain places. The general idea is to start at the bottom and end up at the top for a swim in the Caribbean! Commonsense tells that the ride should start in the start of the southern hemisphere’s summer (November/December) as that will be the warmest part of the year for a particularly cold climate where we start- Tierra del Fuego/Patagonia, in southern Chile and Argentina.
This has been a fraternal Bright idea for a few years now, and while my brother in crime in coming up with this idea doesn’t look like he will be going through with it, I maintain I will follow through on this crazy project. I love bike riding, travel and all things south american. And I can’t think of a better way of doing it than sharing such an ‘adventura’ with a bunch of friends and interested parties for part, or all, of the journey. Some friends have shown interest in joining me for a leg of the journey, eg. a month’s ride between 2 capitals, or even meeting at a major site and hanging out there- eg. Macchu Picchu. Whoops! Forgot to say- it’s the west coast of South America- the length of Chile, dipping in and out of Argentina when necessary, up into Bolivia’s Altiplano, Peru, Ecuador, Colombia/Venezuela. So here is an open invitation to people who may have not considered bike riding, ruffing it, South America, or travel in general, to think about a truly bogus adventure.
Now for some hard truths….
- Yes, I mean push bikes.
- We would need to cycle with all our gear- either on panniers (special bags strapped to the front and back of the bike) or in a small trailer linked to the bike. Obviously a bare minimum of stuff- several changes of clothes, all-weather gear, food, water, tent and sleeping bag and mat, maps/guides and bike maintenance tools
- Still to be investigated, but I am fairly certain, camping is going to be a primary form of accommodation. Sorry guys! Hostels and hotels will of course be used on the way, but parts of the ride will be beyond guarantee of roofed dwelling.
- Some of the cycling may be tough. That is, we are riding in the Andes for a part of the journey, which means uphill. I don’t believe it is impossible- you just go slowly.
Now the upsides……
- You get to see some of the most beautiful parts of the world from the open-air seat of a bicycle Tierra del Fuego, alpine Patagonia, glaciers, some of the highest peaks in the world, the Atacama desert, the Andes mountain range, Inca sites, Lake Titicaca, The Nazca Lines, jungle, The Pacific coast, The Caribbean, amazing food and wonderful people!
Do I need to go on?
- Apart from the major upfront costs of the airfare to the start and end points and good quality biking and camping gear, the travel costs will be so low once you get going. Once you have the bike and tent- your transport and accommodation is free- all you have to worry about is food- a very cheap commodity in South America- even eating out. And we will be preparing most meals ourselves.
- There will be other people to do the ride with. I doubt you could do this on your own, and with a bunch of us, you can share the bad (and the good) parts together.
- It’s a great way to travel. It will be unlike any other way to travel and see the region. The flexibility of bike riding will let you stay in places that take your fancy and let you move on when you want to, regardless of bus timetables.
So there you go.
I am not a hard-core cyclist. I am going into this with the purpose of seeing the region, rather than time-trialling my way from Chile to Colombia. And with that in mind, I wish to make the ride as accessible as possible. I would put in place major dates for getting to certain cities, but have the freedom to allow breaks at places that take your fancy along the way. There would be no set itinerary, but a basic route of the roads to be used to get us from A-B, with allowance for side trips. The length of time for the total trip (ie. 6-10 months) would vary according to the people who sign up. If enough people wanted to do the ENTIRE length in 7 months, then that be the time set. But if most people are doing legs, then there would be more flexibility about the length of time overall.
Don’t be afraid
Lucie
Lucie will try and post updates about her ride here as she goes.
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