Jodie and Christine VS. Naryn

And we thought that days off were for relaxing! It wasn't to be in Naryn, though...

Arriving in the city, having frozen our butts off and not washed properly in a week(our nightly 'showers' use 2 face wipes each!), we decided to splurge on a 'Lux' room at the Ala-Too hotel with our own toilet and hot water shower! Looking forward to washing, but even more to eating and enjoying a cold beer, we opted to hit up a restaurant first.

I should try to explain here how much food means to us when we've got 'biker' appetites. It occupies much of our thoughts each day and we're always looking forward to the next meal. One night last week, I had 2 dreams: in one, a giant roast beef and cheese sandwhich was just flying around taunting me and in another, Jodie and I were trying to decide which breakfast buffet to hit up because there were so many and they all looked so delicious. But in Central Asia, that is the stuff of dreams and dreams only. In South America, we could count on a hamburger and fries in every city, and even McDonalds chicken nuggets now and again...but here we ride into town salivating at the thought of burgers and pizza and are handed a menu in kyrgyz or russian (we can't even tell the difference, which makes decoding quite difficult!) that we stare at until something familiar pops out at us. And familiar means something that we've tried here before, not something familiar from home! The food's not bad at all, but it's just not what we crave after a week or more of one-pot wonders on the camp stove.

Dinner and a few beers later, we weren't overly concerned when we got home and discovered that there was no water at all in our room - we were content to sleep and clean up in the morning. When there was still no water in the morning (we couldn't even flush the toilet), we started to get concerned. The water will be on by 1:00, they said and so we donned bandanas to hide our greasy hair and went into town.

Back in the afternoon, there was still no water. I tried to communicate that I wanted a bucket so that I could go to an outside tap and at least get water to flush the toilet. Although the woman I was asking had a bucket in her hand, she looked at my like I was nuts to think I could take it. And so we headed to a store to buy our own bucket! By the time we were back, there was water and again we got excited about the prospect of a hot shower. How naive!

Of course the hot water heater doesn't actually work. Well, it feels hot, but no water comes out when you turn the hot tap on. So off in search of help. Three women and one repair-man later, all we get is this sign-language message: the woman pointed at the water heater and said, "ka-pow!". Ok, we get it. But we paid double the regular price just so we could have a shower. Smelly and rather grumpy, we tried to communicate that we wanted some money back. But of course, we have to wait to talk to the director. On October 30. Ok, ok, tomorrow. At 1:00. Nope, at 5.
Incredibly the director fixed the hot water (a bit to our disappointment since we'd already heated water in the kettle to wash with and would have preferred some money back...)

And then the banking. We tried all 4 of our cards in the towns only ATM and no deal. So off to a bank with a huge exchange rate sign on the door. Will you chnage dollars? No. To two more banks...Will you exchange dollars or give us a Visa or Mastercard advance? No. Back to bank #1. Oh, no, we don't take MC, only Visa. Ok, we've got a Visa. Oh, we can't to Visas until Monday. Ok, will you change dollars? Yes, ok (yep, the same ones that said no 2 hours ago!). Baffling, but we've got enough money to make it to Osh.

And so it went on our days 'off' in Naryn. All part of the experience I guess but it sure does make us miss the comforts of home!!

Christine

Downhill, Snow and... Bicycles?!?!?

The last couple hours of pushing up and over the pass were snow covered and beautiful. However, as soon as we got over the pass and down to our campsite (at 3500m) we thought that we'd escaped the snow and were back to dirt roads. We had our dinner and went to bed - only to wake up to a fresh blanket of snow covering everything! Of course when I first crawled out of the tent I squeeled with excitement - as I do every year when I wake up to the first snowfall. The morning was sunny and beautiful but soon dissappeared and more of the white stuff started to fly... for the next three hours.

In the winter I live for snow and mountains, but because I love sliding down them on a snowboard. Sliding down on a bicycle is another story completely... it turned out to be a lot of good fun that was not without a couple of good crashes. Biking is very similar to driving a car down a really icy road,you can use your brakes but only until you feel a bit of a slide coming on and then you just have to correct it. Most times we came out lucky but there were a few that seemed like BOB had already commited to the fall and there was nothing you could do but go for the tuck and roll.

We loved the novelty of the snow ride, but were certianly ready for the freedom of dry roads when we hit them. The next couple of mornings (at -10C) we were reminded of the wet snow when our cables were frozen solid and we were unable to shift gears.

Maybe I should do my best to save the snow for the snowboard?

On second thought, I did just read a great quote, "The only difference between an ordeal and an adventure is the attitude." - bring on the adventure!

-Jodie

Up

Riding up over the 3900m pass between Tosor and Archali was definitely the most physically demanding thing that I've ever done and the hardest I've had to push myself to 'just keep going'. All day the road zig zagged up and up and up, much of the way too steep or rough to ride and so we pushed. To break down the 24 kms that we rode that day, approximately 4 of them were ridden downhill at the very end of the day, another 4 were ridden uphill where the road allowed and the remaining 16 were pushed... and pulled, and heaved and ho'd. On the steepest and roughest sections, the process was to take one step forward, find solid footing, then pull your bike up a few feet, squeeze the brakes hard so that it didn't roll backwards and repeat. This is how we inched forward toward the top of the pass, often moving less than 2kph!

As we rose higher and higher, it was impossible to see where the road would go next and so we were constantly guessing. The lesson for the day: if your guess "doesn't look so bad," you're wrong!

Two vehicles passed us going up over the pass and it absolutely baffles me how they made it, but seeing them gave me hope. "If a truck can do it, then a bike can do it!" I have to admit, though that there were times today that I was questionning that and wondering just how long I could keep going. My legs, arms and back were all cramping from the exertion and my heart was pounding because of the altitude.

The weather was constantly changing and with it my outlook. When the wind was scouring us with dry snow and the peaks weren't visible, I had to fight to stay optimistic about making it to the top but when the sky cleared to reveal the 5000m snowy peaks that surrounded us, my mood and energy soared and I knew we could do it.

When we finally did top out at 3900m, we were both all smiles. What an amazing sense of accomplishment! We shouted out loud and took some victory pictures and a few minutes to catch our breath. We didn't spend long up there, though - it was getting close to sun-down and we had to descend lower than the snow to camp.

Christine

Experience cycle touring at home!

With this simple cycle touring simulation you, too can experience cycle touring - without even leaving town (We'll make it a downhill day so you don't even have to work too hard)! Here's how:

Soak your shoes in water and freeze them overnight. When you wake up, put them on and wear them until they thaw. If it's zero or colder, have your breakfast (oatmeal and tea) outside. If it's warmer, sit in your car with the AC cranked.

Get out a puzzle, duct tape over the picture on the box and start to piece it together. Every 1/2 hour, take it apart, put it back in the box and shake it up (this is like trying to find your way when your map isn't accurate). If you want help with the puzzle, you may only ask someone who doesn't speak your language and may or may not have any idea of what the picture on the box looks like.

Eat stale bread, cold hot dogs and nutella for lunch...eat enough that you feel quite full. If the fair is in town, go get on the zipper. If not, do 20 jumping jacks, slide down a flight of stairs on your butt and then spin around with your head down on a baseball bat 10 times. Try not to barf.

Work on the puzzle some more.

Oh, and don't foget to keep a collection of the most beautiful picture postcards you can find and look at the often throughout the day :)

See, now don't you understand why we love cycle touring so much?!?!

Pictures

We're having a terrible time tyring to upload pictures here in Karakol so there are only a few...hopefully we'll have a lot more for you from Naryn, where we plan to arrive on October 11th.

Chris & Jodie

Canadian Moma, Kyrgyz Moma!

Our first night away from Bishkek we were both very tired and really ready to find somewhere to camp for the night. We decided to look around the houses in Kemin and hopefully find a safe spot to set up out tent.

The first two attempts to ask about our tent failed miserably - maybe they didn't understand, maybe they just thought that there was no where for us to camp, we weren't really sure... so we headed back towards the highway. A man on the side of the road said 'Hello' - we immediately jumped on this opprotuntity, asking and half signing to find out where we could camp. "No No. Come to my family house, my mother, my father, my grandmother, my grandfather all there!"

Once we were introduced, we were given soap and water to wash our hands and were shooed into the kitchen where his mother began madly preparing food. Emil got his sisters notes out from an English course she had taken and we flipped through the pages having great conversations! Emil's family didn't speak english, but between him and his friend and a lot of sign language we were able to communicate and have fun.

The family seems quite well off. The mother is a doctor and is running for 'parliment' in the area. The grandparents used to be teachers and his sister is working in Moscow in business (she speaks 5 languages!). Emil works for the government in Bishkek and is just home for the weekends.

I thought my mom was bad for making way too much food and for making people eat much more than their fill - she's got nothin on these guys!!! Tomato salad, soup, bread, jam, cookies, tea, chocolate, MORE, MORE MORE! You would barely take a break and they would be filling your cup or placing more food in front of you! It was all very good and much of it was homegrown. The father actually made the soup and seems to be the one at home looking after the animals and all of the gardening. It was very cute sitting around the dinner table having the parents trying to speak english; pointing at different things around the table and repeating after us, always laughing...

We were not allowed to help clean up but were sent outside for a tour of the place with Emil and his friend. They live on a small property and it is simple but provides a lot. They have a small herd of sheep, chickens, apple trees, apricot trees, strawberries, potatoes, onions, tomatos, and pears. They have just an outhouse, and then a bathhouse/sauna that is seperate from the house. The kitchen and eating area is also seperate from the house. Our bikes were tucked away for the night and locked in a another little shed. Oh, and mom, there are beautiful flowers planted everywhere!

They have a big stove / fireplace that they use to hear water and to cure their sheep in. They were so kind as to start the fire and give us plenty of hot water for a 'shower.' It felt SO good - it was the first warm wash since Canada! It was quite the bonding experience, Christine and I washing in this little room with dippers and pots of hot water. She couldn't even stand up in there!

Tired and ready for bed, we went into the house and set up our beds in the guest room. Emil and his grandmother came in for some more visiting. She is so cute - ooing about where we are going and what we are doing. Wanting to chat, she kept inviting us back again (translated through Emil), and then giggled as she taught us how to count in Kyrgyz.

We also met the grandfather earlier. He is not as mobile as the grandmother so he stays in a room and they tend to him. It is great to see how well both of them are looked after by the family instead of just being stuffed in a home and forgotten.

Emil is very smart and so keen to improve his english that he got out his notebook and got us to translate as he wrote down words that he wanted to remember. He also brought out his photoalbum to show us pictures of his friends and family.

Ok, now it must be time for bed - NO, back to the kitchen!! The mom (our Kyrgyz moma as she called herself laughing) had cleaned up from dinner and started preparing Kyrgyzstans' national food 'Mante' for a snack. Mante are dumplings with a spicy meat filling and are of course served with more tea! We ate what was on our plates and when we declined more, it was ONE MORE! We were so full! These normally do not sit well with me and tonight was no exception. So it was two Pepto Bismo pills, a few trips to the outhouse :) , more visiting and at last sleep.

What a wonderful cultural experiance! Exhausting, but wow, they were such incredible hosts! It is hard to describe how it feels to be taken into a warm home when you are so far away from anything familiar and be treated like family....

-Jodie

"Christina, I LavYou"

Words you don't care to hear outside your tent door at midnight...

We thought we had chosen a nice hidden campsite, far from the highway and a ways between villages. It turned out that the nice little foot path that we followed to find our little spot was a well-travelled route between villages and so several people passed by as we sat outside our tent and had dinner. Everyone was all smiles, though and gave us the thumbs up when we gestured as if to ask if it were ok that we camp there.

While we ate, a man came to join us for a few minutes and although he seemed strange (simple, shall we say...), he was nice enough and asked our names and where we were from. And then he went on his way...

Or so we thought. As we settled into our sleeping bags for the night and turned off our headlamps, we heard footsteps approach and then stop right outside the tent. Our 'friend' was back. We heard, "Christina, Jodie" and so unzipped our tent to tell him that we were sleeping and didn't want to visit. He pretty much tried to crawl right in and we had to more or less shoo him away so that we could rest.

Or so we thought. An hour later, he was back, this time standing right outside my tent door saying over and over, "Christina, I lav you!" I'm pretty sure these were the only english words he knew and I'm sure that he would have been coo-ing Jodie's name too if only Russian speakers didn't have such a hard time remembering it!

We frantically flipped through our phrasebook, looking for the words "stop" and "go away" and repeated them over and over to him (he was being pretty persistent). We knew that this man was harmless and just didn't understand that we wanted our privacy and in the daylight, such an encounter wouldn't have been a big deal at all. But oh how things change when the lights are out... When he finally left, we both laid wide awake and alert, trying to disern between noises in the wind and human noise.

Finally, we both had to pee and so opened the tent...and there he was, perched up on a small hill looking down at us. "Christina, I lav you". I'll be forever grateful to Jodie for being the brave one that night, standing up outside in her down jacket (extra intimidation) and yelling at him to "go home".

At last he finally did and after an hour or so more of straining our ears against the flapping of the tent and a final look outside to see that we were alone, we fell asleep.

It was an uncomfortable night and a good example of the different levels of privacy that we expect at home and that we get when we're travelling. From now on, though, I prefer to meet my crazy people during the day :)

Our personal security guards: Abdul Karim and Azamat Ali

It was nearing 5:00, two hours before dark and the time that we normally like to start looking for a place to camp for the night. We were on a long stretch between villages and saw what looked like a promising spot hidden in the trees on the shore of Issik Kul lake. As we scoped out our potential site from the highway, we were waved over by a Abdul Karim.

I'm going to be very honest here, even if I don't like to admit this about myself, but if we were to judge a book by it's cover, this would have been a man who made us want to turn and run. Decked oun in camouflage, dark skinned and with a sgraggly beard, he's just the kind of man that we are taught to fear in western media.... We warily followed him into the compound where he was the head security guard, each of us thinking the same thing: that we'd give him a chance, but that we would be assertive and leave if anything at all made us uncomfortable about the situation.

He lead us down to the lakeshore where there was a beautiful camping spot right on the beach. He told us that we were welcome to camp there and offered us a radio so that we could communicate with him and the other two security guards if we had any problems through the night. Then he disappeared and left us to set up camp. We enjoyed a great dinner while the sun set over Lake Issik Kul and just as we were finishing up, Abdul Karim came back with his fellow security guard Azamat Ali and his huge guard dog, Tarzan. Azamat Ali was very excited for us to take pictures of him and his dog on the lake-shore, which we promised to share by email.

We offered to share some food with them, but they declined since September is Ramadan and as muslims, they were not allowed to eat between 4am and 7pm for the month. We had a brief converstation about religion in our respective countries and Abdul-Karim told us that most security guards in Kyrgyzstan are muslim because they are know for their honesty and for not stealing or harming people. He explained that there were many different religions in Kyrgyzstan and that they all got along well with one another and was happy to hear that the same was true in Canada.

At 8:00pm, just as we were ready to retire to the tent for our nightly knitting and reading (such an exciting life on the bikes, I know!), the two of them were back, this time with a third security guard in tow. We pulled out our sleeping pads so there was sitting room for everyone. Abdul Karim had a loaf of bread and a jar of milk mixed with oil for dunking it in and we all shared it together, and then we shared a bar of chocolate with them, all the while talking about our trip and our country and asking them about theirs, with the help of our phrase book, our picture book and very limited english and kyrgyz. It was a great evening of sharing and we went to sleep that night feeling extremely secure under the watchful eye of our three personal security guards!

Christine

Issik Kul

Issik Kul is like the Saskatchewan of Kyrgyzstan. In a country that is over 90% mountainous, the shores of this huge lake are the flatlands. Fortunately for the cyclist (for whom flat often equates to boring), this is also the most fertile region and thus the most heavily populated and so a great place to take in some Kyrgyz culture....

In each of the small town and villages that we passed through on the highway between Bishkek and Karakol, small children came running to the roadside to wave and hollar, "hello!" and sometimes "how are you?" as we rode by. The adults were more reserved; some waved and said hello, others would wait until we initiated some sort of interaction, be it a wave or a nod, and then smiled broadly as they returned the greeting. Many people called out, "asgooda?", meaning, "where are you from?" as we pedalled past. A few stopped to chat when we took breaks or stopped at a small shop; all were eager to know where we were from, how far we had ridden and where we were headed. These converstations all took place through an exciting combination of rough english, kyrgyz and sign language and even when they were brief, were beautiful little cultural exchanges. A strange thing that we've noticed is that everyone we meet wants to give us their address and phone number and wants ours in return, even when we cannot speak the same language!

The highway so far has been paved, but 'pavement' means different things in different places and it hasn't always been the smooth black top that is so easy to cruise along. I tried to think of the best way to describe it as we rode along, and this is all I came up with.... You know that trick that you do for little kids, putting a finger horizontally between your lips and wagging it up and down while trying to speak so that the words come out all garbled?! Well, that's what some Kyrgyz asphalt feels like!!

The highways here are shared by belching soviet transport trucks, shiny new BMWs and Mercedes, childern on bicycles far too big for them, terminally ill Ladas and donkey-and horse-drawn carts. Herds of sheep, horses and cows cross frequently, driven by herders on horseback. The contrasts are incredible. One day we even saw a young man steering an old wooden horse drawn cart pull his horse to a halt so that he could answer his cell phone! Acutally, it seems like we're the only people in this entire country without cell phones, which really puzzles the locals who are constanly asking for our number or for us to call them.

The typical rural home here is made of cement or mudbricks, but finished on the outside and painted white, almost always with blue trim (we've seen one house with pink trim, otherwise all blue!) around the windows. The nicer homes are more ornate around the windows, with fancy shutters or glittery mirrors as decoration. The apexes are often done in wood and is the most aesthetic part of the home. There is usually a small door leading to a balcony and the wood is usually quite decorative. Each home has several small out-buildings (kitchens, tool sheds, etc.) and is surrounded by a fence which also includes a courtyard where most of the day's work and chores take place: this time of year, there is corn drying, potatoes and apples waiting to be taken to the market, laundry hanging, hay piled up for the winter, childen playing, etc. Apples and pears are both in peak season right now and there are buckets-full of each outside just about every home. We've been indulging in these often and they're delicious!!

Every day, we ride past a million and one incredible photo opportunities of people going about their daily business, but we try to be discreet and take photos only when appropriate. I hope that our picures will help to fill in any gaps and do better justice to this wonderful place than I can with words....

Christine

a wee warm-up ride

Tired of hanging around Bishkek waiting for our Tajikistan visas to get sorted out, we loaded up our bikes and headed out on a short warm-up/test drive to the nearby Ala-Archa canyon. Only 40km from the city, it was the quickest way to get out of the smog and into the mountains and would give us a chance to make sure that our bikes were in good working order and that we had all of the camping gear that we needed.

It ended up being a pretty ambitious venture. People often ask us what we do to get ready for a trip like this. Do we bike all the time at home? How to we train? The truth: we don't... I mean really, what better way to train for cycling for 8-10 hours a day and riding over high mountain passes on rough roads than doing just that? So this trip was sort of meant to be 'training'.

And if "No pain, no gain" is really true, then we gained a LOT on that little adventure. In the 40km from Bishkek to the park, we gained over a kilometer of elevation, and then another 600m on our hike the following day! If that isn't training, I don't know what is!

Still, the long slog to the park was well rewarded with wonderful mountain scenery in the steep valley, fall colors, ibex sightings and incredibly clear starry skies at night!

Now, we're even more excited to really hit the road and see the rest of this country...

Maps

Here are the best maps that we could find of Kyrgyzstan and Tajikistan for those that want to follow along.

We have finally learned better than to draw lines on them since our plans change more often than our bike shorts (which is probably less often that it should be!). Instead, each time we leave a large-ish centre where we have internet access, we'll let you know where we're headed next.




With our Tajik visas finally and firmly in hand, we're heading out tomorrow morning around the north shore of Issik Kul lake to Karakol. The next updates (and hopefully more exciting ones) will be from there in about 5 days.

Christine & Jodie

How to get a Tajikistan Visa (cont'd)...

Step 16: Drop off passports at the embassy and tell them that a letter of invitation will be faxed there soon. Get out of town for 2 days, knowing that your visa will be ready when you arrive.

Step 17: Come back to the city, go to get your visa and learn that your letter of invitation was never sent.

Step 18: Hurry to an internet cafe to see what the problem is...learn that you gave the wrong code to the person who was going to write a letter.

Step 19: Realize that you lost the code. Phone Western Union and learn that they cannot give you the code.

Step 20: Have another beer at 11am to calm your nerves.

Step 21: Have someone translate a note for you into russian explaining that you sent money last week and need the code again.

Step 22: Go to Western Union and get the code. Email the man.

Step 23: Get confirmation that your letter has been sent.

Step 24: (this is now day 8 of this project!) Go to the embassy and get the visa!

Step 25: Do a happy dance and ride your bike back to the hotel with no hands, singing loudly :)

Tajikistan wins the president's cup 2008!

It was a tense game. With kyrgyz flags flapping, drums pounding, horns sounding and the crowd cheering, "Nada! Nada! Nada!" (goal! goal! goal!), the national soccer team put up a good fight. The game was tied 1-1 at the end of regular time, the same after 2 extra times and it finally went to penalty kicks. Everyone was on their feet and cheering loudly (or boo-ing when the Tajiks kicked) but unfortunately their enthusiasm wasn't enough (nor ours) and the Tajiks took it.

A bit of a disappointment, though we still had a great time cheering with the crowd and being taught how to cheer in Russian :)

Christine

How to get a Tajik visa in Bishkek (in 15+ easy steps)

Step 1: Spend two and a half hours riding around the suburbs of Bishkek on your bike (dodging people, busses, cars, and manholes without covers) with a scrap of paper with a street name on it, and trying to follow directions given in a clear-as-mud mix of russian, kyrgyz and sign language.

Step 2: Arrive at embassy just in time for it to close for lunch, back track to the nearest food stand and enjoy some delicious samsas while waiting for it to reopen in an hour and a half.

Step 3: Fill out necessary forms and hand them in, only to be told that Canadians now need a letter of Invitation from a tourism company in Tajikistan (this wasn't the case about a month ago).

Step 4: Return to the city centre and spend the rest of the day searching for a tourism company in Bishkek that could help us get the letter. Find none.

Step 5: Eat and Sleep, business hours are over and there's nothing you can do until morning. Sleep in a -30 down sleeping bag in +25 degree heat in order to escape the mosquitos in your hotel room.

Step 6: Continue the search for a letter of invitation, this time via internet. Frantically email all of the english-speaking tourism companies in Tajikistan for help.

Step 7: Become so frustrated that you take a break over a cold pint of beer (9 %) at 11am.

Step 8: Get a reply from Tajik Tourism that they will write the letters for 50 USD each, wired through Western Union. Get your hopes up that everything will work out before the weekend (this is Friday afternoon, by the way).

Step 9: Return to the embassy to hand in our applications and tell them that a letter will be faxed to them soon. Once again, arrive just as it is closing for lunch (at a different time, we didn't really make the same mistake twice).

Step 10: Eat pizza (it's the most common food around here!) because you've been on such a rat race that you're starving.

Step 11: Begin the search for a Western Union, following the same method as to find the embassy. Finally track down a Western Union sign, only to find that there is no longer actually a branch there.

Step 12: Return to the embassy. Determine through some rough hand gesture and even rougher russian that lunch was actually turning into a full day affair and that we'd better come back on Monday.

Step 13: Race back to the city centre to continue the search for a Western Union. Arrive just as they're closing at 5:00. Consider crying, but laugh instead.

Step 14: Eat and sleep. It's the weekend now and there's nothing you can do until Monday.

Step 15: Stumble accidentally upon an open Western Union on Saturday morning when you're not even looking for one (we were actually looking for a toilet since the water and power in our hotel were off). Wire the money for the letter of invitation. One small success!

To be continued(on Monday, when we can go back to the embassy)......

Nightmare in Urumqi

Our flight to Urumqi, the second stop on our long journey to Bishkek was 3 hours late. It had taken some time to convince the immigration officials at the Beijing airport that we didn't need a visa because we promised not to leave the airports there or in Urumqi and we'd be out of the country within 24 hours. We tried desperately to get some sleep while we waited for the flight, but with no one able to communicate with us in English to tell us what time the plane was expected, we had to keep an ear open for announcements and an eye on our departure gate. I had a migraine and my pills were all in the checked luggage. By the time we finally reached Urumqi, we'd been up for well over 30 hours and it was the middle of the night local time.

We were quite shocked when they kicked us out of the airport because it was closing for the night. Technically, we weren't legally allowed in China at all. So when 5 friendly taxi drivers tried for nearly an hour to convince us to go to a hotel to sleep for a few hours before our flight, we kept smiling but refusing. If we were going to be hassled about not having visas, we wanted to be as close as physically possible to the airport....and so we sat on top of our luggage, right outside the door all night until it opened at 6:30am.

And then the fun really started. My bike box had to be searched before we could get in the door, then we had to pay nearly $200 at 2 different offices before they'd let our bikes on the plane. The fact that we had to pay didn't bother us nearly as much as the rudeness of the airport staff who wouldn't even try to understand our sign language or communicate with us at all beyond yelling "pay money!" and shouting directions in their own language.

Sweating and physically and mentally exhausted, we finally battled our way through security and sat down to enjoy some noodles - our first meal in far too long...only seconds before we were called to board. We scalded our mouths trying to wolf down as much food as we could before the lign-up disappeared, then got on one last plane to Kyrgystan.

Despite hitting an all-time low on the way there (tearfully wondering why we were doing this to begin with), we were hugely reassured as soon as we arrived at the Bishkek airport. The people here are so incredibly friendly and polite and helpful - we are sure that travelling around this country will be wonderful!

Christine

"Hello!"

Despite all of our stress and headache trying to get here and then to get visas sorted, it's the little moments make this all worth while:
-We were sitting beside all of our gear in the dark outside the airport in Urumqi when a van drove by; we'd been watching the driver unload parcels for an hour or so and he had been too shy to come over and talk to us. When he zoomed by us he leaned out the window and yelled, "Hello! Welcome to China! Bye-Bye!"
-Yesterday as we were walking to dinner we met a group of young children just getting out of school. As they got closer they were looking at us and talking and giggling. Finally one of the boys said a loud "Hello!" and then they all laughed and kept saying it... I replied with a "How are you?" and they all took off running and yelling "How are you! How are you! Hello! How are you!"
-Last night, again walking we heard someone behind us say hello, and turned around to see two Turkish students offering a handshake saying, "Hello, can we meet you?" We talked with them for a bit. They were shy but excited to get a chance to practice their english. They told us how all of their textbooks for computer programming were in english and they realized how important it is.
It is challenging to be in a country where you do not speak the language, but all of these moments make us smile and remind us why we are here. They also encourage us to try that much harder to practice learning the local language. It is so much fun to hear someone putting themselves out there while trying talk to you!
-Jodie

We made it!

I don't know if we could have chosen a tougher place to get to in the world! 30 (quite unpleasant) hours in transit, but we're here and we can already tell that Kyrgyzstan is going to be a wonderful country to travel around. The people are very friendly and helpful and the mountains that we saw on the flight in were incredible!

We've spent the last 2 days running all over town trying to sort out visas for either China (not going to happen) or Tajikistan (proving to be difficult, but we're working on it) so we haven't had time to sit down and blog or upload pics. We promise they're coming though, before we head out on the bikes.

Update

Last week, Jodie and I met up in Vancouver for a one-day visa-getting and trip-shopping marathon (chauffered by Corey - thanks!). Project #1 was appyling for our Chinese visas. No problem...just show up at the consulate at openning time and we'd be good to go. Or so we thought. When we showed up, we saw the beginnings of the line. We asked someone where to go and were told, "through the hall, down the stairs, out the door and down the back alley." "Ha ha ha," we laughed. But it was no joke. I guess the first person in line got up at 5:00am. Showing up at 8:30am set us back about 200 people...

So we left. Visa-less. With our only option being to pick up the visas the morning of our flight, we didn't want to run the risk of not being early enough in the line and not getting our passports back. Fortunately, our flight takes us to Kyrgyzstan first, where we know we can get a visa at the airport. From there, we'll be at the mercy of the Chinese embassy in Bishkek...who, by all reports, still aren't issuing visas to foreigners because of the olympics.

But fear not! Chronic planner that I am, I'm alreay looking into back-up plans. We could stay in Kyrgyzstan and get to know just about every road in the small little country or there's Tajikistan to the south, that is supposed to be even more mountainous...

The Plan

Coming up with a general route for this trip over the past couple weeks has felt almost as exhausting as riding the route will be. It wasn't very convenient for us to want so badly to visit China and Tibet right after the Olympics. Tourism has been very restricted since March of last year and with the legal status of travelling in Tibet changing on a whim at the best of times, it just didn't seem worth the risk of ruining our trip to plan on going there and get turned back.

So there's a new plan...one that, after a bit of research (a whole lot of google-earthing and blog-reading) and letting go of the idea of Tibet, we're just as excited about.

Voila:


We leave Vancouver on September 15th and after a quick (30-hour!) hop across the ocean and most of another continent, we land in Bishkek, Kyrgyzstan. Kyrgyzstan (I just love spelling it) has a lot of the same appeal that Tibet did: huge mountains, nomadic traditions, friendly people and lots of rural culture. We'll spend up to a month exploring that country, making our way towards the border of China where we'll cross into Xinjiang province along the historical Silk Road.

Once in Xinjiang, we've got a few options based on the weather. The climate there is much like here, and being in the mountains, we could have to reroute a bit if passes are closed due to snow. We hope to take in a section of the Karakoram Highway (the southern loop on the map, where we can see some of the world's highest peaks, including K2), visit the Taklimakan desert (third largest in the world) and hopefully ride over an impressive pass in the Tian Shan mountains before ending up in Urumqi (pronounced 'a room key'). This province of China won't be at all like what we all consider 'Chinese'. The people in this province (actually an autonomous region) are mostly muslim and they are more ethnically similar to their neighbors in the former Soviet Union than the rest of China.

So that's the plan. Subject to as many changes as we need to keep the adventure rolling...that's all part of the fun!

A New Beginning...

We swore that South America wouldn't be our last ride...and so we're back! The details are still fuzzy but my living room is scattered with maps of Western China (Quinghai and Xinjiang provinces) and Tibet and my butt is slowly getting used to my new Brooks bike seat. We loved the high altitudes and rural cultures of Bolivia and we love mountains and that is why we're drawn to the Tibetan region. It is on the world's highest mountain plateau (over 4000m, with mountains rising up to 8000m) and home to nomadic yak herders, buddhist monks and many han chinese people who have chosen to make this harsh and remote environment home. Travelling in the fall, we expect to encounter some less-than-pleasant weather - from freezing cold nights to snow-covered mountain passes to bitterly cold winds and maybe even the odd scorcher in some of the drier desert areas. What we know for sure is that it will be another awesome adventure! So stay tuned - we'll start riding (and writing about our experiences) in mid-september.

Mark your calendar!

Ok, so we finally have a time and place for our slide show. We are planning to put together our favorite pictures and stories with music so everyone can see what we were up to all winter (and hear our favorite cycling tunes). We've got a big room with lots of space, so feel free to bring along anyone who might be interested in the trip.

Where: The Cultural Center - meeting room
When: Sunday, April 29th. 7pm.

Hope you can make it!

well, that's a wrap!

Our butts are happily clad in comfy, flowy skirts rather than bike shorts and our bikes are boxed up and resting happily in the basement of our hostel in Buenos Aires.

6700 kms later, we're done riding for the year and are enjoying a week of relaxing and shopping in the big city before we fly home for another fire season.

The "end" hasn't really sunk in yet so there's not a lot to say about it...it was an amazing ride and certainly won't be our last. On our final night of camping, we were surrounded by cacti in a dry river bed, nestled between mountains. We cooked delicious Argentinian steaks over a campfire fueled by cactus-wood and drank wine, staring at a black sky full of stars and dreaming of future cycling trips. And of coming back to Argentina, because we've only had a small taste of this wonderful country and there are so many more roads to ride! So, maybe this isn't really an end at all...

We're planning a little fiesta in Fort St John when we get home (towards the end of April) to give a slideshow of the whole shebang. We would LOVE to meet any lurkers that have been watching the blog but that we don't know in person yet! So check back and we'll post details here once we've figured them out.

Christine

uphill both ways

Chugging along south of Salta, I was surprised by how hard the riding felt and I figured that all of the riding on gravel and pushing that we did in Bolivia must not have left us in very good shape for highway riding. For 2 full days, I kicked myself for being in worse shape that when we were riding in the US and Mexico...

On the 2 night, at camp, I turned on the GPS to see what our elevation was - turns out we'd being going uphill the whole time and were over 500m higher than we were in Salta! The crazy thing was what an illusion it was....for most of the way, it actually looked like we were going slightly downhill!

Christine

hitchin a ride....or trying to, anyway

We decided to hitch hike to Belen....

At 7:30am, we stuck our thumbs out. Well, not really, since there weren't any cars going by. We actually sat on the side of the road playing crib and jumped up once or twice per game to wave down passing vehicles. An hour later, the third car to pass picked us up.

40kms later, we were back on the side of the road. And we sat. And sat. And sat. For 5 hours!! During this time, about 10 cars passed in our direction. Most were full or unable to carry bikes, and some of those stopped anyway just to see if things were ok and to ask what we were doing so far out in the middle of nowhere. The three vehicles that could have carried us didn't stop....and we cursed them appropriately before going back to sitting and throwing rocks under a scortching hot sun.

Finally, along came a red pickup truck with 4 people crammed in the front and one already in the back. They were headed another 40kms down the road, so we piled our stuff and ourselves in and off we went. We were in for quite a tour....the driver, his cheek puffed out with coca leaves, stopped the first time to buy a litre of wine, which he poured into a coke bottle for easy drinking while he drove. It was polished of within minutes but the wheel was still steady. A few passengers were let out along the way until only Jodie and I remained with the driver, his wife and young daughter. We pulled up next to a house and stopped, but the driver told us to just wait, we'd be on the road again soon. We waited in the back of the truck through somewhat of a family reunion and some more boozing... Half an hour later, we were on the road again, a new bottle of wine in hand and music blaring so that we could hear it over the wind in the back of the truck.

We pulled into the driver's yard just as the sun was setting and we were wondering what to do since we hadn't managed to make it to Belen. The only other vehicle in sight was a utility truck with three men and equipment already on board. Ah, but they couldn't refuse to gringas and as fast as we could load our bikes and hop on, we were headed to Belen!

We pulled into town at 8pm, having travelled 120kms in 12 hours..... it was more exhausting and time consuming than if we had just ridden!

Christine

Welcome to the Jungle

I believe that we may have ridden one of the most perfect roads on our way to Salta! First of all, from the Bolivian border to Salta we dropped 2,500m and it was ALL paved – 380km of luxury. The roads were windy and so much fun! But, it was about 100km out of Salta we hit heaven…

The road was narrow and only one lane wide but had wonderful fresh, smooth pavment; it wound its way through lush fields and ranchland and then into the thickest jungle! We saw birds, butterflies, flowers (even hibiscus), and so much lush green vegetation… oh and one small snake.There were so many sweet smells and sounds (and a lot of oxygen) in the air – it was a shock to our senses after being up on the altiplano for so long! We didn´t realize how much we´d missed everything but as we dropped down into the land of plenty – it was incredible. The road wound up, down and around through this amazing jungle until we finally dropped down, through the warm pouring rain into the cute town of La Caldera. We rode 145km that day because everything went so smoothly, really, it was the perfect cycling road.

-Jodie

Argentinian Escort Service

It was 5pm, 2 hours before the sun would go down and we had already travelled 100kms. We were stopped for a quick snack when we met Roberto. He had seen us ride through town and ran to get his bike to catch up to us. He loves cycling and often competes in mountain bike races in his hometown. Once he met a French cyclist at the Bolivian border and rode with him over 200kms to Humahuaca. He insisted on riding with us to Tres Cruzes, the town at the top of a pass where we planned to camp for the night. It was 25kms away, uphill. He rode far ahead, easily outdoing us on our loaded bikes after already ridden for 5 hours, and he stopped every few kms for a break and a sip of Coke, which was all he carried. He raced far ahead near the top of the pass and when we got to the town, we thought we might have lost him. We stopped to look around, and there he was, riding towards us with a big smile, but obviously tired, with a 4L jug of water and 2 packs of cookies for us! He bid us good night after we exchaned addresses and he loaded his bike onto a bus that would take him home.

The next day, it was 5pm again and we were already well over 100kms when Juan caught up to us. He is also an avid mountain bike racer from Jujuy who was just out for a leisurely ride. He rode with us for the final 30kms of our day, again easily cruising far ahead on his unloaded bike, but stopping to wait and for a chat every few kms. We parted with him when we saw a good camping spot and he raced off down the highway.

There are so many people out on bikes just for fun here in Argentina and it's great to wave, say hello and have a chat. But these escorts are fast! And they always seem to catch us when we're already tired at the very end of the day and as much as it seems like a great idea to get to know them as we ride together, we just can't keep up!

Christine

the land of plenty

We made it! Argentina at last!

The last few days' rides were uneventful, save for one more big climb and a whole lot of busses and trucks flying by kicking up dust and rocks with their horns blaring. It was the destination that drove us on, and since there aren't many songs about Argentina (or at least we don't know them), we sang our California and Mexico songs, exchanging Argentina in the lyrics...

"Going to Argentina, going to life the life, sipping on red wine night after night..."

The border was chaotic, but thankfully our bikes bought us a ticket to the front of the line, where I only had to wait for an hour rather than five like everyone else. Still, it was a battle. When I got to the line, I was third. At least 10 people were helped before me. Everytime I would let myself get distracted, I would look back to see that 3 more people had snuck in front of me. At one point, the border guard refused to help anyone until a straight line was formed. After a 5 minute stalemate, he simply accepted the passport of the woman that had just butted to the front. Finally, I used my long limbs to secure my place in line by putting one hand on the wall and stretching the other one out so that no one else could get by. And finally we were in....

But alas, the land of plenty does not seem to have plenty of hotel space and we spend another hour riding around in search of a place to stay, hearing "no hay" as much or more as we did in Bolivia!

But plenty of pavement, there is. The 3 kms of it between the border and town were blissful and we can't wait to hit the smooth black road again tomorrow!

Christine

Off the map and off our rockers!

"I know I´ve really lost it when shit like this starts getting fun!"
...That was my breaking point (Chris was long gone) after pushing my bike for 25km on a very sandy (and uphill) road that MIGHT be the right one from Atocha to Tupiza! We were told that we could just follow the train tracks and then take the first road to the right... well, my friend, that was not the best advice that we could have taken. The train tracks were a cool novelty at first, but believe me pushing your bike in sand is not fun, even if there are two big pieces of steel beside you. After the first 15km we figured that we really needed to ask someone about the road but there was not a soul to be found, and we seemed to be heading the right direction so we pressed on. It was the next morning that we met our first vehicle. The driver told us that we were not headed to Tupiza, but were on a dead end road! Ahhh, so that sand was just for fun! ...but there was a little 7km trail that we could cut across on to hit the main road.
We made it.
See our photos to understand, I mean really understand how we feel about sand.

-Jodie

bike up, bike down, repeat

So we heard that there were a few hills between Atocha and Tupiza. I'm not sure who we heard it from, but I'm pretty sure they didn't mention that there are actually 9 (count 'em - NINE) mountain passes between the two. In retrospect, maybe I'm glad that they didn't tell us that, because I likely would have gone 200km out of the way just to avoid so many hills and missed out on some of the most spectacular scenery I think I'll ever see anywhere.

The road snaked up, around and over mountains for 100 kms, keeping us above 4000 meters for most of the way and offering amazing views that seemed to stretch on forever. Exciting plunges to 3700 m, some of which were as steep as black diamond ski runs, were followed by gruelling climbs to 4200 m that had us pushing much of the way.

We didn't learn just how many hills we had to climb until we had already crossed 4 passes and ran into a couple of Italian cyclists that told us we still had 5 more coming! Ouff!

Here are some stats:

- highest pass was 4259m
- three passes over 4200
- all passes over 4000
- elevation in Atocha 3600
- elevation in Tupiza 2900
- longest continuous descent 1300m vertical
- most passes in a day 8 (after climbing most of the first one the day before)

Finally, we hit the river valley that would lead us into Tupiza. It was instantly summer and the temperature, which had been near freezing when we woke up at 3900m, soared to 36 degrees. We were riding by fertile fields boardered by red sandstone cliffs hundreds of feet high that had us looking everywhere but at the road and exclaiming "wow" every time we'd crest a hill and get a new view.

What a ride!

Christine

Two Gringas vs. Every Salina Kid

A huge part of Carnival is water – there are kids everywhere with water guns, water balloons, and spray foam that are attacking each other and everyone else on the street. Once we decided that we had been blasted by too many times by one group of boys, we needed to get some sort of defence. We each bought a $1.50 can of spray foam and ambushed them! Up to that point, most kids were after each other but once we were involved they all joined forces. We raced up all around the square, chased by screaming kids – I think every kid in town was after us!

Our foam cans ran out and we were left standing with our hands in the air, soaking wet and covered in foam. The kids were laughing wildly (still spraying) and the adults were pointing and giggling.

It was good fun, but made going out anytime afterwards a wet event – of course they would all recognize the only two gringas in town!

-Jodie

Across the Salar

It was a big disappointment, but one that we were prepared for. Like everyone we asked had told us, there was too much water on the salt flats to ride our bikes across it, but our optimism told us that we had to see for ourselves. So we left Salinas with our fingers crossed and enough food and water to get us to Uyuni. 35 kms of the roughest road we've seen so far (we had to push our bikes DOWN hills because of all the loose rock!) brought us to the Salar's edge, where we met a truck completely caked in salt, whose driver told us about the "harto agua" and gave us a ride back to Salinas.

We waited through the last day of Carnaval until things started to move again, then loaded our bikes onto the roof of a big old bus that would take us to Uyuni. We asked the driver if we could ride on the roof rack with all of the luggage to get a better view of the Salar and once we were settled in, away we went. They had to bombstart the bus and even once it was running, it chugged so badly over bumps and up hills that we wondered if it could actually make the journey.

What we expected to be a 3 hour trip turned into an 8 hour journey. When we finally hit the town on the edge of the Salar, we laughed that we could have ridden our bikes the same distance in less time. It seemed like every person we passed on the road would wave the bus down just to chat with someone on board.

But at last we were on the Salar, and it was every bit as amazing as pictures and stories make it out to be. Where it was covered in water, the sky and clouds were reflected so perfectly that it was hard to tell which was which. Beyond the water, when we were driving over solid salt, we felt like we were on a huge frozen lake except that it was nearly 30 degrees out. The bus stopped for a pee break in the middle of the salar and we took the chance to run and jump and do cartwheels on the salt before crawling back onto the roof.

It was just like our own personal tour of the salar and quite a bargain for only $4 each!!

-Christine

One River = One Beer

They started small and were a bit of a novelty… but got deeper and softer way too quick! The first one was ok and you could even ride through it. The last was up to my bellybutton with very sticky mud along the bottom… and the Bobs weighed about 65 or 70 pounds. That river was at the end of a huge mud flat that seemed to have a creek or river every few minutes. We made it 10km in 3 hours! Somehow the water was not as much fun anymore! That is, until we decided that we would drink one beer for every river that we had to ford (and a shot for every flat).

One river was super soft on the bottom, and after crossing it we couldn’t figure out how a vehicle would ever make it through when a little truck pulled up with six guys in the back. They said hi, shook our hands and went to work. They tramped back and forth with lots of yelling and hand waving until they had packed two tracks in the soft river bottom, then marked them with willow branches. The driver took a huge run at it and all of the men jumped out of the way as he splashed on by. They then chased him, ready to push. Yup, cleared it! Who needs a bridge?

But a modern bridge we did find! From our map, we knew we had at least one more river to cross and we joked that it would likely be swimming water from the way things had been going. We came around the corner and we couldn’t believe our eyes - a brand new fancy bridge! We decided that it was ok to give up one beer and took it with a smile…

-Jodie

"No, today they are dancing!"

That was why no stores were open as we tried to find food and water for our ride. And why, when we realized that we couldn't cross the salt flats, we had to spend two more nights in Salinas de Garci-Mendoza before a single vehicle left for Uyuni.

Carnaval brought the otherwise sleepy little town of Salinas to a near riotous state for three full days and nights. Busses, tractors and motorcycles were covered with colorful garland, and tables out front of each were full of empty beer bottles, while those nearby were pulling new ones from tall piles of crates. Men and women, their traditional dress completemented by streamers and party hats, danced wildly to a marching band that played the same song over and over for 3 full days as it followed the dancers through the streets and around the plaza. Two litre jugs of 'potable alcohol' (which looked and tasted like coolant) were everywhere and women tried quite agressively to force it on us. Kids played with water balloon, squirt guns and spray foam (for which we apparently made pretty good targets), while adults threw confetti at onlookers. There was even a poor llama caught up in all the excitement and completely covered in confetti!

As we wandered through town looking for food and water, we were swept into the passing parade by a tiny little old woman who looked to be about 70 but who muckled onto both of us and swung us around with the strength of a man half her age. She whirled us and twirled us all the way to a backyard party where a large group of partiers were surprised to see two gringos among them and increased their efforts and forcing us to drink their poison (we tried it, but I swear more than two shots would have blinded me).

We watched most of the festivities from the doorway of our hostel, where we felt safe from the fire crackers and rockets that were going off all over the place, and from the watergun and balloon wielding kids.

The stamina of the musicians and dancers was impressive, and far outlasted our own as spectators. For three days and nights they drank (more than I think I've ever seen anyone drink and still stay standing!) and danced (until the average mortals legs would have fallen off!) and played music (always the same song, and always out of tune). On the last night, the festivities lasted until 5am! Or so Jodie tells me, I managed to sleep like a rock...

Ah Carnaval - the wildest party ever!

-Christine

550 kilometers of adventure

…and sand, gravel, dirt, grass, washboard, river crossings, mud, “intense animal crossings,” shortcuts, and many Ys in the roads. We have definitely found the roads less travelled and have loved the experience! We had several days when the only traffic was llamas or the occasional bicycle.

These quiet roads resulted in two very, very fat Bobs! Leaving one town we each had 16 litres of water – that is an extra 32+ lbs!!! It definitely took some creativity and coaxing to get them all loaded up and in the trailers in the mornings.

The weather ranged from pouring rain and hail that resulted in raging rivers and creeks to gorgeous hot and sunny days. The stars on the clear nights up on the quiet 3,700m altiplano were absolutely amazing! We never really stayed out to watch them for long though because they were very frosty nights. The wind always picks up in the afternoon and it really is a great way to navigate- as long as it is a headwind, we are going the right way!

One night the wind even had us huddled inside of a mud brick llama corral for a campsite. Believe it or not, a thick layer of llama shit provides quite a comfy sleep. ;)

Sleep was definitely not a problem though; we worked hard to gain those kilometres! We love mountain biking with our skinny tires and Bobs bouncing along behind. A certain number of bumps, washouts and puddles keep us entertained and having fun, but, when we ride only a few meters and then have to get off and push through sand over and over again or hammer ourselves over rough boulders for hours we are not such happy little bikers. There are narrow off road bicycle trails that help us to regain our sanity a little as we race one another alongside the road. Oh, and chasing emus can also add to our riding pleasure…

A huge highlight of reaching Uyuni is the hot shower and the laundry services as there were none to be found over the past 13 days. There was one river that we used for washing. We just had to ignore the llama shit floating by, a reoccurring element in our lives lately. We thought that people gave us funny looks because we were crazy, but maybe it was the smell… Ahhh life is good!


-Jodie

From the development studies student....

Travelling by bike allows you the opportunity to see more than just the pretty side of a country, full of pizza parlours, tour agencies and hotels boasting hot showers and free breakfasts. These touristly areas are always a welcome respite when we get to them....we love the chance to speak our own language, and pizza and cold beer taste delicious after countless meals of pasta and carrots.

But the reason that we love riding is that it lets fully experience a place and its people. Here are some observations from rural Bolivia (and in case anyone with an IDS background is watching, these are not generalizations, simply observatons and I fully understand that my views are tainted by the fact that I'm both female and a foreigner):

- As we rode further away from main roads and highways, the small dots on our maps representing towns began to mean less. Small towns were terribly run down and we would often believe that they were completely abandonned until we'd cross paths with a lone inhabitant at the far end of town. Cemented basketball courts are cracking with weeds and have bent, rusted hoops and many homes have been gutted and are left without roofs or doors. There are no schools, offices or stores. The road through town always passes by the main plaza and church, and although these were in awful disrepair, it was obvious that they were once beautiful and had been buzzing with life. Then along came the highway, and with it came industry and opportunity in the cities and slowly these wonderful little villages emptied and were left to ruin. Its a stark and sad result of modernization in Bolivia.

- I read just today that the poverty rate (not sure by what standard) is around 70% in Bolivia. There is a notable lack of money in many rural places, but it's a different sort of poverty. No one here appears to be going hungry. The ground is fertile and the livestock are fat and plentiful. Homes are made of local materials (mudbricks, stones or salt blocks), and yards are large and generally well kept, often with flower beds out front. Kids are at least educated enough to know to say "Hello, how are you?" to gringos and all that we asked went to school. The people that we've met have all seemed healthy and content despite their lack of money, begging the question of whether income is really the best indicator of poverty. Still, the growing importance of money to the people is obvious. They love to ask the cost of our bikes, our plane tickets to get here, and how much I plan to sell the scarf that I'm knitting for. These questions are definitely uncomfortable ones to deal with and we try our best to avoid them, though they seem to be asked out of genuine interest and not bad intentions.

- From our pictures, I'm sure you've noticed the beauty of the native women here, in their large, bright skirts, colorful backpacks and bowler hats. Most women older than 30 or so dress in their traditional (if imposed by colonialists) dress on a daily basis. Those who work as laborers in the public sector are even issued yellow coverall dresses to work in! Men on the other hand, dress in plain dress pants and shirts, and the only time that we've seen them in their traditional dress is during festivals. As is the case in many cultures, it seems that women in Bolivia are the carriers of culture.

That's all I got....wouldn't McGill be pround of the worldly little graduate they produced (or would they rather I get a real job!?)

-Christine

And we're off!

Across the Bolivian Altiplano. If you can get your hands on a map of Bolivia, we're heading west from La Paz to Sajama National Park, then southeast from there in as straight a line as we can find to Uyuni and the salt flats (which we hear may actually be ride-able now!). We plan to be going through some pretty remote places and travelling some pretty rough roads between here and there and expect that the next time we see a computer will be in about 2 weeks time. So the blog may be quiet for a spell, but then I'm sure we'll have many adventures to share...

Biking the backroads

You know the road is rough when you have to go just as slowly down the hils as up....and when your odometer actually reads zero at times (we didn't realize that you could actually balance a bike at less than 4kph)!

That's what riding the backroads around Lake Titikaka is like - miles and miles of the roughest road that I've ever seen (actually less a road than a sandbox slash rock garden). It was impossibly steep in sections, so that we spent quite a lot of time pushing. Also repaired quite a few flat tires and retightened a lot of screws that had come loose (and lost a few, too).

After bumping and rattling along for 3 days, our shoulders and arms were more sore than our legs (though our whole bodies were exhausted). Still, though (and does this mean we're suckers for punishment?), we've opted for 700 more kms of dirt before we leave this crazy country!

Christine

"Gringo! Gringo!" and other everyday interactions

- We can hear them before we can see them. Little kids tending livestock far out in a field yelling, "Gringo! Hola gringo!" from so far away that we don't know how they can tell what color we are.

- A man herding his sheep down the road stops us to ask where we are from and shakes both of our hands and wishes us well in our travels.

- Enrique, a man from the north end of Lake Titikaka, runs back to his house, way up on a hill to get his camera so that he can take our picture. He explains that he is trying to get tourism started in his community (it's so beautiful, it deserves it) and plans on doing his own bike tour around the lake in the fall to promote it.

- Riding into a village at the end of the day, a woman stops us and says, "Congratulations! I saw you in another village! I came here by car and you rode your bikes! Congratulations!"

- We cross paths several times with a van full of people on their way to a fiesta in Moho. Part way up a big hill, we find them stopped by the side of the road. A woman from the group comes running up to us and gives us a bag of cheese to snack on. Meanwhile, 2 men with video cameras have them running and aimed at us, while another asks where we are from and where we're headed.

- On the way up an even bigger hill, we pass a group of construction workers. One runs up behind Jodie and pushes her for a few hundred meters while they all cheer us on.

- Men hawking their fruits and vegetables over a loudspeaker on the side of the road stop mid-word as we pass to say, "Hola Gringas!"

- A group of school kids on the side of the road, yell "Good morning, teacher!" to us - likely the only English words they know.

- When we stop for water in a small town, a group of kids surrounds us and asks all kids of questions about us, our trip and our bikes. They wonder if we stop to sleep at night or ride around the clock. I'm dying to tell them that gringos don't actually need sleep, but I'm not sure how the joke would go over with the adults in the background.

- A man rides towards us on his bicycle, trying hard to mind his own business and ignore us, but when he sees us smile at him and hears us say hello, he breaks into a huge grin and laughs as he says hello back.

These are honestly just a few of the interactions that we've had with people as we travelled around Lake Titikaka. The further off the beaten path we go, the friendlier and more interested people seem to be. The scenery was pretty spectacular, too, but the people are really what make riding around here so rewarding!

Christine

Sunday in Copacabana

It's 8am and cars are lined up three abreast for at least 3 blocks from the cathedral. Their owners are busily decorating them with flowers, ribbons, and minitures of the Virgin Mary. They are waiting until 10:30, when the priest will come around, sprinkle holy water and over each one and pray for its safe travels. For the few Bolivianos this costs, everyone seems to prefer this blessing over auto insurance.

Once their cars are blessed, the hoards move towards the mountain that rises up from the lakeshore just a few blocks from the cathedral. Here, they work their way up the old stone steps, past the 14 stations of the cross, stopping at each to toss a rock at its base and cross themselves. Midway up, they take a break and have an indigenous priest pray over them. He prays aloud for each person after asking them what they need prayer for, then swirls a burning pot of inscense around their heads and rings a small bell near their ears.

At the top, families and friends gather to enjoy drinks and snacks, as well as the spectacular view over Lake Titikaka and Copacabana.

From the mountain, it's down to the beach, where Bolivian vacationers rent kayaks, small sail boats, and animal-shaped paddle boats, eat ice cream and popsicles, rip around on rented motor- and bi-cycles, and play fussball on outdoor tables. It's an incredibly colorful show and the perfect place to kick back and people watch.

Christine

Dear Creepy Italian Guy,

Please don't interrupt our journal writing in the sun to try and charm us with your rudeness.

Please don't tell Jodie that she must be slower going up hills on her bike because she's got bigger boobs.

Or that her horse must hate her and hopes that she never comes back from South America.

Please don't tell us that we'd have to dress better if we ever came to Italy.

And please, please, please tell your non-english speaking friend to get out of our bubble and stop throwing out the vibe.

Sincerely,

Christine & Jodie

"I´m high as a kite and I just might..."

...is what we sang (or yelled) when we could finally see Lago Titicaca and the long down hill that would take us there. Yesterday was deemed to be physically the hardest thing that either of us has ever done! We traveled 75km in 6hrs of riding time (that's SLOW!), including the 30km hill that topped out at 4,275m (14,000ft).

We woke up early to cows that were tied next to our tent - after hearing them breathing, munching and moving around all night. Since we were sleeping in someone´s front yard, our morning business had to wait. However, the area was incredibly populated and there were no public baños so a couple tufts of high grass on the side of the highway had to do. :)

Christine had two flats within about an hour of riding. This was frustrating since it was only day two on the new tires. Other than that, the morning was great with a bit of a climb and then a good downhill into San Pablo de Tequina. The views of the snow capped Andes and Lago Titicaca were amazing!

There were a bunch of big wooden barges waiting their turn to ferry people and their vehicles across from San Pablo to San Pedro. We rode our bikes on and were slowly floated across the water. We were a little concered when we first pushed off as the little outboard engine on our barge seemed to take quite a lot of convincing to start...

Ok, this is where we began the hardest hill of this entire trip! It is true what they say about everything being harder at altitude! At the top of the first hill we were stopped and bent over our handlebars wondering if we were going to pass out or puke! We took our heart rates and they were both >200bpm. weeeee!

From there we slowly climbed up for the next 30km. We passed people hanging out with their sheep, crops planted all over the terraced hillsides, children playing, and houses scattered throughout the hills. There were also roadworkers that ride their bicycles up these crazy hills every day to do maintenance - they must be the fittest people on earth. We were even passed by a guy flying down the hill with a wheelbarrel bouncing along behind his bike! Several people said hi and waved, some yelled "Da-le, Da-le!!" (give'r, give'r!) and one group of kids 'yipped' back and forth with us as we pedalled by. My favorite was a sheep herder who played his horn for us; he first played up on the hill with his sheep, but after we passed, he ran out onto the road and played loudly until we were out of sight. These small but special moments were so wonderful and they gave us all of the extra energy we needed to keep pedalling.

Upon reaching the final summit (after several false ones) we were so exhausted that even the downhill seemed like it would be work. It was all worth it though! We had a blast winding down through the beautiful views, past houses, locals on bicycles, music and even a dance, to the rewarding destination of Copacabaña, where we celebrated with a cerveza and a long deep sleep in a comfy bed!

Jodie

All you ever needed to know about Coca

You can't avoid the coca leaf in Bolivia. Women sell it out of huge garbage bags in all of the markets, every cafe serves coca tea and it's often touted as the best treatment for altitude sickness. And then there's the coca museum, displaying an overwhelming amount of info on the leaf, the refined product, and all of the implications that both have had for Bolivia throughout history.

Let's see how much I can remember:
- when the spanish invaded bolivia and peru, they made chewing coca illegal because they thought it was 'diabolical'. it's interesting that this was before cocaine existed, so the leaf was not known as a drug...it was only made illegal because of the important social and spiritual role that it has for the indigenous people that spain was trying to convert to catholicism.
- when they noticed that productivity in the gold and silver mines dropped significantly when the miners couldn't chew coca, they actually did a complete 180 and made it mandatory for the miners to use coca and imposed a tax on its purchase.
- indigenous people have been using coca for ages as an anesthetic for medical purposes, the west didn't catch on until the late 1900s
- cocaine was never produced by bolivians or peruvians. it was western countries that came up with the refined product that quickly became a huge problem in the developped world.
- Freud was the first recorded cocaine user in the world.
- the main ingredient of coca cola was originally coca
- since cocaine became a problem in the west, political forces have been trying to cut it off at the source by making coca cultivation illegal. this in turn has all sorts of social and spiritual implications for indigenous people in Bolivia and Peru who still use coca on a daily basis (there are no known health problems associated with chewing coca). it is so important to the people here than they even use it as a currency for bartering in markets.

well, that's all i got for now. the moral of this story is - The coca leaf is not a drug!

Christine

No hay cambio!

Sorry, no change!

When you go to a bank machine in La Paz, it spits out 100B notes (equal to about 12USD). And yet for most day to day interactions, these bills are completely useless. Things are very cheap here, and no one has change. Those who do guard it closely. To the point that it seems they would rather not make a sale than part with their small bills and be stuck with a 100!

Forseeing that this might be an even bigger problem in rural areas where money is more scarce, Jodie and I headed to the bank today to get enough money and in small enough bills to be useful for the rest of our time in Bolivia (we don't plan on seeing any more banks for quite a while!). By the time I was through with the teller, I had 3 different pockets completely stuffed with Bolivianos in denominations of 10, 20 and 50! Even though it didn't amount to a ton of money, it was our allowance for the next month or so and it felt quite conspicuous. We left the bank sweating as though we had just robbed the place and bee-lined it for our hotel!

Christine

The day that could have been

January 18th, 2007 started out like any other. We were lazing in our room at the youth hostel in La Paz, Bolivia when all of a sudden an apollo 25 paper spacecraft came soaring in through the window. Folded into it was a note issuing a challenge that may have changed our lives:

"Go a block and a half down the street and pick up a small package that will be waiting for you there. It is to be delivered to an oasis high up in the Bolivian altiplano. Your route will cross some of the most difficult terrain that you have ever encountered. Llamas are the animals best suited to carry you on this journey - they will be waiting for you in the Plaza San Fransisco. You will not be disappointed with the reward that you will receive should you succeed. Good Luck."

Not being ones to turn down a challenge, we hopped out of bed and quickly collected the parcel and our llamas. Downtown La Paz proved a difficult place to learn to ride llamas. The aggressive, honking drivers frightened our steeds, who nearly threw us off several times before we finally reached the city limits.

But this was not to be the hardest part - before reaching the oasis, we had to ford a raging river filled by the monsoon rains, cross a snowy pass at 4800m and fend of swooping condors. Throughout these hardships, we were chewing coca leaves to relieve our altitude sickness.

At long last, when we thought that we could not go on any longer, the oasis appeared.

In the middle of the clear blue lake, two princes were floating in a totora boat, fishing and enjoying cold beer in the warm sunshine. When they saw us approach, they paddled in to shore and and congratulated us. They invited us to feast with them, and took the package that we had carried from La Paz. In it were four Whopper Combos from Burger King.

As we ate, they told us about the reward for our success: we would be granted a guided cycling tour through some of the most spectacular mountains of Switzerland!!!!

After our meal, we laid back for a nap in the warmth of the oasis. When we finally woke up, we were back in our hostel and it was January 19th.

La Paz -WOW!

I think I am having a sensory overload at the moment. Cars, busses, and vans buzzing everywhere honking like crazy. Most have men hanging out of them constantly yelling prices and destinations ... also diesel exhaust pumping out of them like you would not believe. Crossing the street is an art that we are slowly learning. You must wait for the perfect moment to dart out lane by lane and you often find that you are standing in the middle with vehicles passing on each side. Another very reliable method is to find one of the little ladies to stick to as they wander through the traffic - they seem to have it figured out.
We just came back from Mercado Negro; blocks and blocks of little market stands selling everything from mouse traps to lingrie. There are little round Bolivian women dressed in layers upon layers of bright clothing. They are minding the stands and are often crafting more merchandise. Everything is incredibly colourful and completely fascinating.
The smells go from sweet fruit to raw meat and fish, all of which is neatly laid out under on the small stands.
People are so strong - you see them walking with huge loads tied with rope or cloth onto their backs, slowly bumping their way through the crowds.
Chris and I have been practicing our undercover photography as we wander through the bustling streets. You´ve got to be quick and descreet, often it´s a shot from the hip. Yes, we are that good. ;)
There is so much more to describe, but I believe my brain is shutting down from all of the activity - hopefully our pictures will help to show more of what we are experiancing here... I need a nap!
-Jodie

40 hours on bus later...

...and we're in the highest capital in the world - La Paz, Bolivia. With headaches and very high heart rates because of the altitude. Walking into the office at the border (4500m) got my heart rate to 100bpm. Hauling our bikes up the stairs in La Paz (3700m) got it to 160! I wonder how riding with a 50 pound trailer will feel?!

More on the awesomeness of being in La Paz when my head clears a little.

Christine

Crazy Canucks Hit Puerto Natales

We celebrated the end of our hiking and one of Anthony's last nights in Chile in fine style in Puerto Natales. With a bunch of others from our hostel, we enjoyed a fancy all-you-can-eat parilla (BBQ), then hit the liquor store up for some pisco and coke and played cards and enjoyed piscolas until it was time to head to the live Elvis impersonator that was entertaining the town that night. As seems to be the norm down here, the party lasted until the sun was on its way up. Never a dull moment...

Christine

Pain on the Circuit of Paine

Back in town after 7 days and 112kms on the circuit of pain and resting all of our aching muscles and joints. We've definitely learned that biking muscles and hiking muscles are not the same and getting back on our bikes in a week or so will feel like quite a treat!

On our first day in the park, we took advantage of the blue skies and made the steep climb up to see the Torres del Paine, the incredible granite towers that are the centrepieces of the park.

Not being one to do things the easy way, I decided to sprain my ankle on our first evening. I'd love to impress you all with some exciting story about how it happened, but the plain and boring truth is that I was walking down the stairs out of the bathroom at the campground and bailed.

I took the next day off and spent as much of it as possible with my foot stuck in a glacial stream hoping that the swelling would go down enough for me to hike the next day. Jodie kept me company, but I was jealous of Anthony who went for an awesome ridge walk overlooking the towers and came back with a handful of crystals he had found on the rarely-travelled ridge.

The next day, we packed up camp, Jodie and Anthony taped my foot up solidly with a combo of athletic and duct tape and we were off on the circuit.

For the first 2 days, the trail followed lush valleys full of daisies and other flowers. The green vegetaton, brilliant blue glacial lakes and flowers combined to create a beautiful and colorful landscape that made for very pleasant hiking.

Then it was up over the pass, offering great views of the surrounding peaks and the enormous Grey Glacier that flows down off of the Patagonian Ice Cap. The hike up to the saddle was long but gradual and the real work began with the descent. The trail plunged more or less straight down from the saddle for 3 knee-jarring hours. Because I was favoring my sprained ankle, I ended up with a swollen and sore knee on the other leg from letting it take all of the abuse. Jodie and Anthony had some good laughs watching me hobble around camp and getting up and down that night!

The rest of hike was along rocky hillsides (which reminded me of northern Ontario) overlooking lakes of all shades of blue and green.

We woke yesterday morning to rain and very low clounds and decided that there wouldn't be much to see with such weather and hiked back to the trailhead, calling it quits a day earlier than we planned. Even with some rain on the last day, we were incredibly lucky with the weather. A man we met who was leaving as we were arriving told us that the had had either snow or rain every day for the week that they were there!

Overall, a great week of hiking, aches and pains and all!

Christine

Whoops!

I can't believe we forgot to blog this!

We went skinny dipping in the Beagle Channel! With complete strangers! How fun!

Happy 2007!

Feliz Nuevo Ano!

We celebrated in style with fine argentine wines - 4 bottles worth of it!

And after ringing in the new year at a little restaurant, we eventually ended up at a crazy house party where just about the entire town was crammed in the mosh pit, which actually filled the entire lower floor of the house, save for the stage, where a band played latin hits all night long. When we finally left at around 3:30, after being forced outside by a lack of oxygen, there were still a ton of people waiting to get in! They sure know how to party in Argentina!

Cerro Torre

Until a few months ago, the huge granite spire of Cerro Torre was all I knew about Patagonia and seeing it was enough to make we want to travel all the way down here. Finally, I got to actually see it. We make the 4 hour trek up to the base of the Torre Glacier, looking ahead at nothing but clouds where we knew the mountain should be. At the glacier, there was still no view of the mountain, but we hunkered down behind some rocks to block the wind and waited and watched and did our best to will the clouds away. Very slowly, the clouds lifted and parted, until over 2.5 hours later, we could finally make out the sharp top of the spire. What an incredible way to see such a huge mountain - shrouded in clouds that made it look so daunting. It greatly added to the respect that I have for the people that have climbed it. Wow.

I'm not sure if it was because it was Jodie's birthday or if the weather gods just knew how disappointed I would have been to have come here and not seen Cerro Torre, but we've been told that the day we hiked up to see it was the first clear day in almost a month! What luck!

Chris

Ushuaia

Oh, Ushuaia. Paradise. How can you not love a place with mountains, penguins and tango?! This amazing southern city is a close tie with Whitehorse for my favorite place ever. I'll be back....

Christine

Let's Dance!

Yesterday we rested up our tired feet and legs, and after a delicous BBQ buffet we were ready for some TANGO lessons. Yes, Tango! For a low price of 10$ we got a beer and about 3 hours of great coaching. We started by learning simple steps individually and by the end of the night were combining the steps and dancing with partners. As much as she would argue otherwise, Christine proved that she is indeed a great dancer - she was even used to demonstrate new moves to her not so graceful friend...
I had trouble not laughing at the move where I had to rub our foot along my partners shin, making me feel like a cat rubbing up against a random leg... but all in all it was a great time! It was definitely a little more challenging than two steppin at Looney Toons, but well worth the effort!
The evening wrapped up with two of the instructors dancing to one of their favorites just as they would in competition. They flowed together perfectly - it was incredible!

Jodie

canadian beavers doing us proud

Tierra del Fuego is full of Canadian Beavers. Seriously. Apparently they were introduced here a while ago and have really been thriving. We were told by some locals as we headed out on our hike that we would definitely see the 'destruction' they have caused in the Fuegan mountains.

So we knew we might see some beaver dams. But we had no idea that we would find them way above the treeline surrounded by rugged snowy mountains. And that some of their dams would be over 10 feet high and that others would be over 100 feet long.

It seems that Canadian beavers are doing even better at the tip of the world than they are at home!

Christine

Hiking the Fuegan Andes

"We're hiking in the Fuegan Andes, guys! I can't believe we're hiking in the Fuegan Andes!"

(This actually sounds really funny when you say it out loud [Fuegan is pronounced fweg-in])

Even though the forecast was for 3 days of rain with only one morning of potential sun, we were determined to start hiking and we set of for the Valdivieso Circuit as waterproofed as we could make ourselves.

Thankfully, the weather held out and we enjoyed dry weather and great visibility for most of the hike.

The 'trail' was actually more of a rough route, but for the most part we were above the treeline and could easily see where we wanted to go. The first day took us up over the Beban pass, which offered incredible views of the jagged and snow-covered peaks that surrounded us. We took advantage of the long summer day (2 days after summer solstice) and hiked until 9pm and cooked dinner as we watched the sun cast its last light on the impressive rock faces that surrounded our campsite.

The next day, we climbed up over two passes (Mariposa and Valdivieso), which both overlooked beautiful alpine lakes surrounded by incredible peaks and beautiful snowfields. This was Christmas eve and we camped near a small waterfall and celebrated with hot mulled wine as our bed-time drink.

Christmas morning, we awoke to pouring rain but it had more or less cleared by the time we we ready to head out. The final day of the hike took us down a long valley that was mostly skeg and Jodie and I laughed at the fact that we were tromping through ankle deep moss for fun when we get paid for it all summer.

We made it back to the road and hitched a ride back to our hostel with enough time to make our Christmas phone calls and cook up a makeshift Christmas dinner. All in all, it was a beautiful hike and definitely got us excited for more!

Christine

Feliz Navidad

from the bottom of the world: Tierra del Fuego!

More on the past few days' adventuring tomorrow morning...tonight its dinner, wine and lots of sleep in a warm comfy bed!

Merry Christmas,

Christine, Jodie and Anthony

Whirlwind

Ouff! 4 days after leaving La Paz and 2 flights and many hours on the bus later, we're at the end of the world in Ushuaia, Argentina. The trip has been quite an adventure in itself and I'm not convinced that biking here wouldn't have been more relaxing!

We left La Paz afer a fun night of partying with some cyclists that we met from Vancouver that involved a midnight dip in the ocean in downtown La Paz and a lot of hair gelling with the 1L of gel that Jodie and I found for a dollar!

Needless to say, we weren't in the best shape ever when we got on the overnight flight to Chile the next morning. Or the overnight flight the next night to Punta Arenas. By yesterday morning, we were running on 10 hours of terrible airplane sleep in three days.

We were exhausted, but not too exhausted to go check out Punta Arena's most interesting attraction, the Penguins on Magdallena Island. WOW! There were over 100,000 of them all over this little island and you could get up pretty close for pictures. Such funny little creatures!

A 12 hour bus ride brought us all the way to Ushuaia, on the island of Tierra del Fuego and we're ready to stop moving and do some exploring.

EXCEPT, somewhere between La Paz and Ushuaia, I managed to lose a pair of jeans, a tanktop, my binoculars, $80 cash, my passport (luckily I got this one back), and possibly my mp3 player (it might be with my bike). At least my backpack is a little lighter, I guess.

WEEEeeeeeeEEEEEeeeeeeEEEee!

Christine

touchdown

We made it to Chile safe and sound and have met up with Anthony, who we'll be travelling and hiking with for the next 3 weeks. We're running on 5 hours of poor sleep in 2 days, and have another night flight tonight to get us to the bottom of the world for Christmas.

More later, when we've woken up from this travelling haze :)

Christine

¡adios mexico!

Well, we've seen the Baja - the good, the bad and the ugly of it. There are things we'll miss and things we'll try to forget....and here they are, in no particular order:

We'll miss...fresh fruit shakes for breakfast...hot dog stands...churros...loud mexican music...sandy beaches...clear blue water...pinata stores...margaritas...1 dollar beers...chihuahuas...creative gel hair styles...

We'll try to forget...creepy mexican men whistling and catcalling...hairy man-eating tarantulas...angry guard dogs that aren't kept tied up...cactus thorns that puncture our tires....

It's been great, but we're looking forward to the new adventures (and foods!) waiting for us in South America. We fly to Chile tomorrow (!!) to start round two so stay tuned.

Christine

For all the fun in La Paz

You were the perfect host! Thanks for the welcome ballenas, balandra beach, the local eats and guiding us to (and most of all, home from) the casa de villa. Sorry for keeping you out so late ;)

The Myers hit Mexico!

...and Gary, Marcy, Jane, Brandy and Julie! We just had a great week-long vacation with a good FSJ crowd- here are some highlights:
*Dad braved the elments and traded in the Wranglers and the long johns for shorts, earning the affectionate nickname ¨wittle white woper¨from Jullio.
*Jane gave him (Dad) a good run for his money with the ´fish-belly-white´ skin in the early phases, but definitely was the tanned one by the end.
*Marcy provided some incredible dance lessons which made good use of the piñata stick and 80´s hits.
*Mom oooed, awwwed and took pictures of the flowers, ocean, birds, fish, us, and well, pretty much everything...¨Pretty Darn Nice eh?¨
*Chef Boy-ar-Doyle once again showed his talents as he worked his magic in the kitchen to impress Brandÿ. He also kindly sacrificed his kayak when she was getting attacked by the shark- what a nice boy...
*Gary lost count of the Gin and Tonics as his glass overflowed with the limes that were supposed to be used for keeping track of how many he´d had...
*Chris and Jullio harmanized nicely to ¨Punta Pascadero La La La La La¨ and ¨Ole Ole, Ole Ole Ole!!!
There was plenty of swimming, singing, dancing, tequilla and beer drinking, exploring, and tons of laughing - it was a great way to wrap up our US/Mexico journey! Thanks guys!

-Jodie

SHOUT OUT TO JOE!!!

...it could never be as good as the SF Bitter End party! But, yes it was good fun! We are landing in Santiago on the morning of December 20th - see ya there!?!?
If not, send us an email myers_jodie@hotmail.com & likethepear_9@hotmail.com

¡Baila! ¡Baila!

We´ve been saving up for a good night of partying for quite a while now - our last one was in San Fransisco over a month ago...

So we put on our best get-up last night (which looks quite a lot like what we wear every day!) and headed out for a night on the town with Gerald, our host here in La Paz (and our boss`s father!). He took us on a tour of the best watering holes early in the evening, including one that was decorated with dead pufferfish lit up by colored lights inside of them. Then it was to the rooftop bar on the waterfront where the real fun began. Before long, then entire place was packed and we were sitting front row for the best entertainment in the house: a cheesy mexican guy hitting on (maybe a bit of an understatement) a girl with all the classic moves - leg up on the stool, arm sway, flexing, unbuttoning his shirt and dancing disco-style to very not disco music. We decided that rather than just sit there and stare at them, we might as well make some friends, so we ordered up a round of drinks and started dancing. Three more gringos showed up after a while and joined our little gang and we tore up the dance floor (Gerald, too!) all night long.

We were having such an awesome time that we didn´t even realize that bars here don´t close at two and when we finally stumbled out of there, we were shocked to see that it was 4 in the morning!

Arriba!

Christine

We made it!

La Paz! Our destination, 4100 kms later. It´s a little overwhelming to be here and be done the first part of our trip. A big part of me just wants to hop right back on my bike tomorrow and keep on pedalling. But other parts (particularly my thighs and stomach) are desperate for a week or so of lying in the sun.

So, I´m off to grab a cerveza and then take a siesta...this is the time to relax!

Christine

Dear Creepy Mexican Guy,

You know who you are.

When we bike by, please, wave and say hello. Honk your horn. Cheer us on. Smile.

Please don´t stare at us without smiling. Please don´t whistle, or make that silly little siren you have in your car do a cat call. Please don´t yell hey gringa or mamacita or make strange purring sounds (especially if you work for the military, are dressed in camo and carrying a semi-automatic).

Sincerely,

Christine and Jodie (not Yodie - Jodie, with a J)

security code red

The security alert has been increased to red as of yesterday due to the sighting of 5 (yes, 5!) TARANTULAS on the highway.

Under code red, tent doors must remain sealed at all times, and may only be opened by authorized personnel for appropriate reasons and only under the strictest supervision.

Thank you for your cooperation.

Security Coordinator, Christine

ride ride ride, hitchin a ride

Well, the wind didn't want to let up in San Ignacio but in order to make our date with Jodie's parents in a week, we had to move on regardless. So we packed our bags and battled the gale for 2 long kilometers to the gas station, where we befriended the attendant and what seemed like half the town's men who were loitering around. It was a good strategy, though, since we had them all working to find us a ride out to the coast, where we hoped the wind would be at our backs rather than in our faces.

It didn't take long for them to find Teodoro, a local school teacher with a pick-up truck, who was willing to take us along. Teodoro turned out to be not only a good driver, negotiating fallen rocks and transport trucks on the steepest grades on Mex 1, but also a great tour guide, pointing out places of interest along the way.

He told us about the geo-thermal plant beside the volcano that supplies electricity to several towns in the area, and pointed out a mule caravan taking supplies to a hunting camp where they hunt desert bighorn. He even stopped for us to take a picture of a huge rock shaped like a chicken (which we were too polite to say that we couldn't actually see!).

So finally we're back on the road, with the sea on our left now and the winds pushing us south to La Paz....

Christine