jon & wei's pedals & pancakes

GO BEARS!

2008-09-02T13:06:00.000-07:00

As I sit killing an hour or two before jumping on a plane bound homewards, I have just enough time to tell you about Berkeley. Home to people who live in trees, people who don't wash, people who are quite frankly revolting (against the system)!
But also home to my lovely friend Mandy (who may or may not be all of these things). Mandy's a friend from Cambodia, another fine and proud member of the 'Gunshop'. So perhaps it was serendipity that brought not only PEPY supremo Daniela to 'the city' but also our 3rd Gunshop-dude, Michael to the San Francisco International Airport where we dropped 'bows like it was Bonn Om Teuk!

Truly awesome to see them all! An unexpected treat!

I've been running around sampling the sights and sounds Berkeley; campus-life as school starts up again, Tilden Park up in the hills of Berkeley with glorious views out over the bay and San Francisco and Marin county beyond, Top Dog's hot-dogs, the marina complete with crazy old-bearded dudes kite-skateboarding, second-hand bookstores galore! I even spent a day with Mandy wandering around Berkeley's botanical gardens pointing out the most impressive specimens - see if you can spot them in this post!

Figured I had to ride over the Golden Gate bridge while I was in the area... didn't approach it tactically though and by the time I got there the daily fog had rolled in and about a half-mile from the bridge I hit a cold wet wall of THICK fog. Kind of spooky cycling across one of the largest landmarks in western America and not being able to see any of it, but oh well...
After that I rode on to San Francisco's Critical Mass - a monthly ride to reclaim the streets for cyclists and promote cycling in the city. Critical Mass has spread to hundreds of cities around the world but it started, 17 years ago, right in San Francisco! A fun way to see the city, if a little hectic and the constant sirens of police-cars/vans/bikes to prevent the ride getting onto a freeway or a bridge muted the otherwise joyous mood of the riders.The cops were pretty friendly though and Mandy even beat one of them up the hill in a race!

"1 2 3 4, monsters walking cross the floor,
I love counting, counting to the number 4!!
Are you counting, counting with me?
To one less than five, and one more than three!"

The Redwoods

2008-08-27T15:28:00.001-07:00

And now for a different kind of impressively massive wood;

The kid's name is Levi. His mother walked past as Lauren took this photo, "Doesn't matter how old they get does it?"

No. It don't.

From Stawalmus Chief to San-Jose

2008-08-22T09:47:00.000-07:00

Jon:

Amy is a tiny person; BUT a tiny person full of explosive energy. A true a definition of the japanese word 'genki' that I've ever come across. It was great to see her again and hike around Squamish too!

Vancouver was at once as I remembered it, and not // As I hauled my belongings from the Amtrak station the dusk light dimmed and sounds of sea-gulls carried on the wind. Ah! The Pacific! I smiled.

... it's always strange visiting half-forgotten places; roads and junctions, the funny little roundabouts at crossroads, record stores on Main St, tree-lined streets. People watching was interesting being back in such a diverse city; lots more funny looking folks, a lot more evidence of alternatives, a city where you don't have to fit in to fit in, where you are as likely to see triathletes training as bums pushing shopping trolleys.

I feel ready and excited for what's next, my next home, next job, next challenge. After constant motion for so long I want a place I can return to at the end of the day. A place that holds my music, my books, my bicycle, my loves.

Guess I'm almost ready to be homeward bound.

The bus ride down the west coast was long and shambolic. We were delayed due to shattered windscreens, people left behind at the border, drivers walking out on the job, and delayed fuel-stops, but was at least made enjoyable by the final driver, "I'd like to thank you ALL, for choosing to ride in Daddy's Caddy. Now will you JOIN wi' me to ask the Lord for a safe journey, can I get a A---MEN??!"

Riding through Northern California the smoke hung heavy in the air, evidence of the huge number of forest fires that have blazed through the summer. We would squeeze through mountain passes, and where ordinarily huge vistas of ridges and hills would open out beneath, there was only an eerie whiteness in every direction.

The approach to San Francisco was hugely impressive as it appeared little by little, silhouetted against the bright sunlit sky across the bay. The long bay bridge from Oakland took us right in. But I wasn't going to stay for long. I grabbed all my gear and taxi'd to the train station to get to San Jose to see My.

I was surprised at just how many place names I recognised, how many building styles I recognised, it felt like being in a movie. American pop culture was such a part of my youth without me even realising it; film, television, and music, even the warm stark light bouncing off the concrete.

It was really great to see My and Pin. My and Pin like food. I like food. My and Pin like naps. I like naps. My and Pin like watching the Olympics. I like watching the Olympics. I like My and Pin.

It was fun seeing the places and peoples of my friends' youth. Wandering around Chinatown in 'the city', "That's the park where I learned that crazy old black dudes get along with crazy old asian dudes."

I visited Pin in Japan just before I started this trip and it was great to see him again at the end. Nice bookends to the trip. It's always good to see friends again to see how you measure up.
I've been thinking a lot about this trip and what it might mean to me, how I will look back on it. I think perhaps for the first time in my life I was more excited by what I was leaving (or rather who) than what I was approaching. It's imposiible for me to consider this trip as a single thing. I have to break it down to individual cities, individual friends, individual mornings or rides or views. It doesn't make sense any other way. It feels like a VERY long time ago that we left Boston.
I've had this trip in mind since my final year of school... just waiting for the opportunity and when it came ... having to stop early and watch as Wei continued on alone, questioning whether I'd have had the will to carry on if the situation was reversed. In many ways I was ready to stop when I did, and I know it was the right decision. I'm really happy Wei rode on and am looking forward to seeing him again in the UK and comparing notes.

When I first read my fortune I was amused. Without thinking I translated it as needing a car... but then my friend pointed out that it could equally mean a shopping trolley... maybe I'm destined to remain homeless a little longer.

Uff Da!

2008-08-19T15:49:00.000-07:00

"Uff Da", Norwegian for 'darn', 'blast', 'doh!', 'oops', 'bugger'... I'm learning new things everyday...

Yes, time to leave again. Breaking free of the Malakoff family hospitality is no easy thing, first in Kaslo and now in Naramata, but after two days of indulging and the final stretch to Vancouver had to be tackled. I had eaten peaches, plums and mulberries straight off trees, got treated to giant 'seaside' icecreams, bbq, takeout pizza, games of monopoly, ran around crazy with Eric and Mackenzie, visited local wineries, star gazed, gawped at iron men & women (Penticton hosts an Ironman every summer, which Kristi has completed), discovered woodturning, watched the olympics and got accosted by a nutter in the supermarket. Life was fine in Naramata and Penticton and the people even better.

The mind is good at disguising, and it's not until you have the luxury of hindsight that you realise that perhaps you are more fragile than you think. My emotions fluctuated too easily. Feeling the smooth tarmac roll easily beneath me set me off eager to gobble up more road. But on the second day the climbing started straight out of Princeton and didn't end for the rest of the day. It was the first time i really, really hated climbing and wished Vancouver was just around every next bend. Even at nine in the morning, momentum died in a instant, the buff under my helmet keeping salty sweat out of my eyes was saturated in minutes and the handlebars became slippery with perspiration. There was brief respite as i held onto the back of a very slow moving truck but it soon sped up revealing a dead straight continuous 3km at 8% with no shoulder. Led Zep and lots of shouting got me up.

Hiding out under trees at lunch, every contrail across the sky had me dreaming of the moment of stepping on the plane home. Afternoon: felt the heat radiating off the rock walls, rode inconsistent shoulders, watched other cyclists struggling, walking up the other side, raced cars down the beautiful descents and loathed the inevitable up that followed.

Despite plenty of opportunity to wild camp, i spent my dollars on a provincial park and the last night of camping felt amazing. An icy pool in the stream meant a quick but refreshing wash. I watched the sun creep slowly lower over the carpet of pines, relaxing to the sounds of the water confidently bubbling over rocks. The full moon shone like a spot light, stars shot across the darkness and i lit my first and last wood fire of the trip.

The penultimate morning to Chilliwack rewarded the previous days uphill slog with amazing descending. After two and half hours of riding, my average speed was 17.1mph, max speed was 48mph and i had done 40 miles down empty roads. It paid to be out early. Later i learned a motorcyclist was killed just a few hours behind me, careering too fast round the tight bends, crashing and catapulting into the ravine below.

My Rapha bottle had split, the reflective piping on my jacket pealed away, shoes splitting, socks full of holes, tyre walls cracking, the honey jar empty, plums bruised, knees creaking and thighs protesting, the mountains gone. I was loving it.

The air got wetter as i took a recommended detour to the Othello Tunnels, the final part of the KVR, an incredible series of perfectly aligned rail tunnels carved through seemingly impassable walls of rock. I felt the journey didn't want to end, revealing surprises even so close to completion. Walking through the damp tunnels was quite an experience, every entrance revealing more fantastic gorge scenery. I stood with Chad and Susana, exchanging photos and watching salmon leap up the raging waterfalls before riding the the remaining, very smooth and shaded KVR to Hope.

Excellent directions from my kind warmshowers hosts, Char and John led me to their home Chilliwack and onward to Vancouver through pleasant farmland and thankfully flat roads! I can't thank them enough again for their hospitality, sharing their inspiring journeys and mapping a safe route into the bustle of the city that only comes from being a local. So after two and a half thousand miles i rolled to Lana's front door in Vancouver. We celebrated in style by hitting the chinese midnight market, a culinary eye opener for my friends and a delicious end to the journey.

KVR

2008-08-19T10:08:00.001-07:00

Sometimes things just work out... I woke up at the usual 5.30am on Rob and Jacqui's converted mobile home bus, laughing at the thunderstorm crackling overhead. A rest day, fish and chip dinner and the couple's inspiring adventure stories, brought my legs back in shape. Their dinning room table was full of gear as they were preparing for a six day kayak trip, including complete meals which they had dehydrated and heat wrapped themselves. My mind wandered through fantastic new plans and journeys.

A magnificent pancake breakfast set the scene and we were off the next day... for a sunday ride! Jacqui and Rob had kindly offered to ride with me through Myra Canyon on the Kettle Valley Rail trail. The KVR is a 600km off-road trail that follows the route of an disused rail corridor through the BC interior. What i didn't know was how ''off-road" this trail was going to be and if my bike would handle it... however the benefits would be a quiet days ride, no traffic, stunning scenery and a flat route all the way... it was time to find out... Jacqui and Rob would cycle with me and if the going was too tough they could bail me out, returning to Kelowna via car.

It turned out to be a great day of riding, the trestle bridges over the Myra Canyon were like nothing else i have seen and i have only admiration for the vision and engineering feat. The trail too was pleasantly easy to ride and as Jacqui and Rob turned back to Kelowna i was in good spirits.

I rattled along for the rest of day, thankfully without suffering any punctures or mechanicals. The recent fire which had destroyed many of the trestles and surrounding forest, opened up the landscape. Many of the other cyclist i met along the way commented on how the views across the Okanagan valley were now much better!

A kind couple gave me some peaches as i poked around at the eclectic Chute Lake cabin and 'museum' of junk, amusing myself at some very confused German tourists. I bumped my way down the rest of the trail, stopping often to soak in the uninterrupted panoramas of a sun drenched Okanagan lake, dodging chipmunks, rocks and noisy teenagers on quads. It was great to see Shirley (Kristi's mum) again at the end of the KVR, her beautiful home and orchard reminding me how lucky i was to met such lovely people.

Vancouver according to Jon

2008-08-17T13:42:00.000-07:00

Cycling Stop. Beard Stop.

... AND even the First Nations people of the Pacific Northwest know that PANTS ARE NOT IMPORTANT!

represent.

BIGHUGS go to Lisa, Amy, Locky&Natasha, Gillian&Kevin (omedeTOU!), and Brent!

Mahood Lake with the McWilliams

2008-08-16T14:55:00.000-07:00

Well a long way back I set off from Calgary on an overnight bus. As disappointed as I was at not getting the chance to cycle the Rockies, I was at least consoled that I'd now be able to fit a few other stops in. First on the list was to visit the clan McWilliams at their summer cabin near 100 Mile House. I was picked up at the bus stop by a grinning Jim - it had been over 4 years since I last saw the McWilliams when I was doing a student exchange at Emily Carr Art School in Vancouver. It was very good to see them again!

Bells & Water;
love of bells and water,
wind-chimes, flutes, creeks and brooks,
bicycle bells ring out enlightenment
on forest mountain roads
wind catches all.

The cabin and its surroundings were stunning. It was easy to see why they loved to spend so much time there. I had the chance to meet a few more of the extending clan McWilliams and rest by the lake, quite content not to be cycling everyday.
I was also helped to catch my first rainbow trout (which made a delicous breakfast!).
It was a really great way to unwind after all the stresses of the road and let the cries of loons and the creek lull me to sleep in the hammock.

A great thanks to all the McWilliams (and Turbo)!

Hills, Thrills and More Hills

2008-08-09T14:04:00.000-07:00

On the road again and what roads! Four days of stunning roads, spectacular landscape, thigh searing climbs and eye-watering descents. In particular the road over to New Denver from Kaslo couldn't have been a better start; quiet, winding, and i later found out it's a favourite amongst touring motorcyclists for the same reasons.

Clear lakes galore invited afternoon swims to cool off from the midday heat, rocky beaches to myself to warm back up on. At the end of the day, why would you need a shower when there's a lake to jump into!

Strangers continued to be surprisingly generous. Rick and Elaine couldn't have been kinder campsite neighbours at Summit Lake, offering me tea (with milk in it!), chicken, garlic bread, fruit salad, great conversation and even a hot cup of coffee at six the next morning!

The only blimp was an interesting animal encounter wild camping a few miles from the Fauquier ferry. Finding all the campsites closed in the area, i found a great spot by the lake and settled down for the night. I was awoken at one o'clock in the morning to the bear bell set on my tent ringing, snapping twigs, crunching leaves and a inquisitive nose outside. I confess my heart was beating like a rocket, eyes wide open and i couldn't sleep a wink as this animal continued to shuffle around the area until dawn broke at five. Needless to say i was out of the area in a shot and glad to be feeling the cool morning wind whistling past.

So I had to tackle the Monashee Mountain Range that day on little sleep and the 10% climbing started immediately as i left the ferry. It was a long, hot, hot day of classic mountain roads, twisting their way around craggy cliff edges and much primal cursing. The ferry thankfully broke up the traffic, but every creek i found, i plunged my head into and rode with my cap soaked with icy mountain water to stave off the unrelenting sun. I ate ALL the food i was carrying that day and glad for a characterful campground with a hot shower at the end of the day.

I slept like a baby, for once glad other campers were around. The mornings ride was the reward for the efforts of the day before, over 800 metres of continuous descending and the fresh smell of baking drew me to a coffee and danish treat at Lumby.

The mind still boggles to the actual possibility of this chance encounter but i bumped into another friend from Vancouver, Justin, as i was enjoying my morning pastry, hitch-hiking his way to Nelson for a festival. Holy cow this trip is nuts!

The rest of the day took me to Kelowna, via the fantastic lake shore road which turned out to be horrendously hilly. I did longest day in the saddle and arrived to another 'warmshowers' stop off with Jacqui and Rob, sweating profusely and a right mess. Maybe it was good i slept in their bus that evening...

Chance Encounters in Paradise

2008-08-09T10:46:00.000-07:00

Perhaps a little redemption for Jon's absence, i found my stay in Nelson suddenly extended as i bumped into an old friend Kristi. Things work out in funny ways. Kristi was my exchange partner at the Emily Carr art school when i first visited Vancouver, so it was to catch up on the last four years!

I'd already spent two fun packed days at Nola and Darrens' house, with their young daughters and loveable hounds, eating, planning and enjoying being off the bike. This chance meeting with Kristi just put the cherry on top.

Nelson is certainly the most characterful of all the mountain towns i'd been through so far. It's communal atmosphere and liberal reputation certainly obvious through the strong promotion of local produce, varied vegan menus and the prevalence of well established community co-op stores. It's certainly a place to 'live', the mountains attracting outdoors aficionados, city escapees and hippies alike. A fine base for 'Freeride' a mountainbike film company which Alex, Kristi's man, films for and provided me with hours of crazy death defying stunt footage viewing... sweet!

Things got even better as Kristi invited me to a family get-together near Kalso. She drove my luggage ahead and i had a glorious cycle along the lakeshore to the cabin, flyling up climbs unimpeded by heavy bags. Sounds of the Kaslo jazz festival floated up from the beach as i got stuck into the last climb to the cabin... pleasure and pain.

Riding a Shimano bike... well i had to use the Shimano fishing rod really!

I spent the whole long weekend relaxing in the paradise of Sonja and Norm's cabin; Swimming in the glacial lake, learning how to fish, cooking our caught fish for dinner, eating fruits from back gardens, feeding chickens, lying on the hot pebbly beach, surrounded by mountains, watching eagles, doing nothing whatsoever, eating more cherry pie... Thankyou to all of you for making the weekend so easy!

Adventure

2008-08-06T16:12:00.000-07:00

In time of peace in the modern world, if one is thoughtful and careful, it is rather more difficult to be killed or maimed in the outland places of the globe than it is in the streets of our great cities, but the atavistic urge toward danger persists and its satisfaction is called adventure. However, your adventurer feels no gratification in crossing Market Street in San Francisco against the traffic. Instead he will go to a good deal of trouble and expense to get himself killed in the South Seas. In reputedly rough water, he will go in a canoe; he will invade deserts without adequate food and he will expose his tolerant and uninoculated blood to strange viruses. This is adventure.

Steinbeck, (from The Log from The Sea Of Cortez)

Next stop: Market St, San Francisco!

Lone Swordsman

2008-07-30T21:35:00.000-07:00

The unexpected bit us in the ass once again, but the show must go on... fresh ideas were mulled over, old plans cast aside, and new situations brought to the table.

Jon's knee meant an end to his cycle but every cloud has a silver lining, and he now looks forward to speeding his way across the Rockies to see friends he couldn't have before and catch some West Coast sunshine.

I am forever grateful to him letting me cycle through the mountains without feeling pangs of guilt for continuing without him. We entertained ideas of hiring a car and touring the Rockies together, but after two and half months of riding towards them, and having been turned back from the mountains earlier at Camp Disappointment, i wanted to ride the mountains.

After stomping through crashing thunderstorms out of Calagry, the mountains didn't disappoint. Mist gave way to high mountains hugged with cloud, unbelievably green lakes and crisp air. BC is beautiful and reminded me of our travels through the winding uphills of Vermont.

Scorching days brought warm evenings swimming in beautiful lakes, clear night skies and great camping. Meeting other cyclists certainly wasn't a problem either, and very reaffirming, giving me new energy and confidence to keep turning the cranks. I've seen more cycle-tourists in BC than across the rest of the country! Even re-encountering cyclists as our paths cris crossed the BC mountains. In Creston i had the pleasure of meeting a lovely German couple who had coincidentally been cycling across North America, having started out in New York at the same time us. Hopefully we'll see each other in Vancouver too.

I filled my extra time from travelling alone with more cycling. Rising early to catch empty roads and avoid park rangers, napping in the afternoon as the weather hotted up and continuing the riding into the evening. But perhaps the riding has also been some of the best i've experienced all trip, shaded, low traffic, snaking lakeshore drives. With a couple of 90+mile days i was grateful for a rest in Nelson. A final thigh searing hill took me to Nola and Darren's front lawn, a note on their door inviting me to a bbq at their neighbours topped off the day. It did get me thinking about the merits athletic self destruction... cycling up a hard hill is always made worth while when rewarded with steak!

The biggest truck in the world at Sparwood!

Retro Dairy Queen in Nelson... made the ice cream treat even sweeter!

Safe travels Mr Jon and here's where i finally got to have a swim.

Calgary (take 2) : The Great Divide

2008-07-18T09:41:00.001-07:00

Jon:
So we left Calgary a week ago...

Then we came back.

Our stove broke and without it all was lost! The only town within 200 miles that could offer hope of a repair or replacement was the one we had just left.

Problem was, in doing this relatively flat turnaround I realised that my knee was simply not up to the task of the Canadian Rockies. It had started bothering me way back in Vermont only 3 days into the trip. It got worse and it got better. The last couple weeks of riding were through open prairie and inherently flat; making me feel optimistic about my knee's recovery. But when it started aching and getting very quickly more painful I knew that I couldn't attempt the mountains without risking long-term injury to my knee. It was a difficult decision but I had to call it a day.

Wei has decided to continue, riding the rest of the way to Vancouver alone. I wish him all the best! He has been a wonderful companion on this trip, and it has been fantastic to share the experience with him. I could not hope for a better friend and co-rider to spend 3 months in a tent with.

Great thanks to Jim & Lucy for welcoming us not once but twice, with open arms!

See you on the other side my friend!

And just so you know, the following statement is NOT TRUE!

More sinning in the great outdoors

2008-07-14T12:48:00.000-07:00

Deadly Sins in Cow Town

2008-07-12T12:53:00.000-07:00

It's Calgary Stampede time. That means there's seven deadly sins to be accounted for. What can I say... we tried.

1. Lust

2. Gluttony

3. Greed

4. Sloth

5. Wrath

6. Envy

7. Pride

...oh and we had some mini-doughnuts too.

Camp Disappointment - Calgary

2008-06-30T16:51:00.000-07:00

Jon:
Well with only a steel wire to hold my rack in place, we set off again making a beeline for the nearest town large enough to have a bike shop. Lethbridge was a two day ride away straight North on the otherside of the Canadian border. We repacked to take as much weight off my rack as possible, putting a lot of gear in Wei's panniers and carrying some on my back.
It was midday by the time we were on the road and the sun was baking straight down on us. The only shade in 100 km was a grain silo and the border crossing terminal.

We were in an every changing state of conundrum; We were riding through stunning landscape but a broken luggage rack, fantastically quiet roads but could see the mountains disappearing, super smooth tarmac for 10 miles but bone shaking gravel road the next 10 miles, the wind on our backs but the sun beat down on us relentlessly.

After we crossed the border we crossed the top of the ridge we'd been climbing for the last few hours and we started to drop quickly with the help of a strong tailwind. In this area you can see a long long way. Shrubs and trees appear on the horizon and stay there, teasing you into thinking you're almost there and withdrawing again as you look down at the road running wildly away into sky. As we reached the bottom of the valley Wei's bike protested under the added weight and he came to a stop with a broken spoke on his rear wheel. Still an hours' ride away from camp we couldn't fix it with the tools we had. We transfer some weight back to my bike and make-do. On the larger descents we hit record high speeds and despite deep fatigue and broken machines the spirit soars.

Pulling into McGrath we're welcomed by a church group picnicing at the town campsite and given all the burgers and water we could consume... which was just as well as there was no running water and it had been a long day to say the least.

As the Christians set off for home the clouds draw in and we escape a short sharp storm in the tent, asleep by 9pm as the sun re-appears still high in the sky.

The next day we make it into Lethbridge and just about collapse into delicious steak dinners provided by friends of friends. Josh, Anisha & the kids continue to provide glorious respite from the road producing ice-cream, guitars, and beds! Sitting on a couch is surely a splendid use of one's time.

The rest of the ride into Calgary was relatively uneventful, just long flat rides. We watch as storms race across the prairies from the west and time our cafe-breaks to coincide with the short heavy showers. We watch dark skies pick their way across horizons hiding distant mountains. Each town appears an hour before we reach it.
Horrendous wind between Champion and Vulcan force an early stop after only 20km covered but a change in wind allows us to ride the full 140km into Calgary the next. Good points and bad points... pesky Coyote.

Cheating!

2008-06-30T14:19:00.000-07:00

...And the story of how we arrived at Camp Disappointment...

Wei:
The short-term and immediate problem solving demanded of living on the road is what makes it exciting. Although we just as eagerly look forward to relaxing at friends' homes; where the daily search for camping and water suddenly evaporate.

Arriving at the Milwaukee Amtrak station to find that our train had been cancelled due to flooding, threw us straight back into the thick of things! But the Gods were kind enough and with unexpected calm, we managed to bus, train, and taxi our way through the flooded countryside with our boxed bikes in tow (even surviving our first McDonalds meal, 'forced' upon us for lack of other sustenance, which disagreed considerably with my stomach for the rest of the Greyhound ride...).

Not wanting to face the isolation of Northern Ontario with possible worsening knee injury and with time running out, a train ride across the prairies didn't seem like a bad idea. Weeks of cycling across seemingly endless flatlands would have to wait for another trip, but it did mean that we would have more time in the lovely BC mountains.

Twenty hours reclining in our giant seats, reading 'Runner's World' from cover to cover, spotting deer from the observation deck, making chess-playing-friends, dining communally, finding our 'train legs', draining our ipod batteries, listening to the 'oh-so camp' chimes of Monty from the lower deck bar and we were finally deposited out at Shelby, Montana, bicycles still with us, and the mosquitoes were already biting.

Montana was a beautiful change in landscape, low strangely lush green rollers, huge skyscapes and snow peaked mountains gradually growing larger on the horizon with every mile. Meeting five other cycle tourists heading East raised our spirits even more and we managed to encourage our train weary legs to Camp Disappointment, where we feasted on a potent Thai tuna, rice dinner whilst the locals shot beaver...

Camp Disappointment

2008-06-28T16:02:00.000-07:00

Jon:
We'd been cycling ever closer to the mountains for days. What started as small barely noticeable disruptions on the ever-widening horizon grew clearly distinguishable. Individual peaks loomed large and the separation of snow and rock could be seen. We were ready. We went through our daily checks as we packed up the tent that morning and had one last glance at the map to see which route we'd take to Glacier Park. We set off and cycled across the rough gravel road entrance to the campsite and out onto the highway. I changed up gear and felt my back wheel suddenly seize up. I stopped to check if the chain had jammed in the rear mech. No. I checked to see if my brake-pads were rubbing. No. So I dismounted and called Wei over. He checked the same things and then we saw it. The rack carrying all my belongings had snapped clean in two and jammed itself into my rear wheel. Not good. Mountains would have to wait.

Milwaukee & the big 25

2008-06-26T16:46:00.001-07:00

One of the immediate benefits of our southerly decision was going to see Alisa, mine and Wei's friend from Vancouver back in the heady days of 2004. It was simply a delight to buy food, make food and eat food with her once again. As she learned to used a sewing machine, and prepare for her own Norwegian summer adventures. Alisa, we salute you!

..and how does a young fellow celebrate his twenty-fifth year you may ask;

That's Youngs Chocolate Stout ya'know!

Due South

2008-06-16T16:11:00.000-07:00

Well... plan B then.
We had our doubts about the Trans-Canada highway north of Lake Superior before we reached it; with my knee giving me problems, the unescapable black fly, the bears, the moose, the lack of towns, facilities and food-options but what made it an obvious choice was the traffic.
Choosing to follow the Trans-Canada would mean a commitment to 1600 km and 3-4 weeks of solid riding on it before any chance to turn off. And the traffic sucks. Huge trucks and articulated lorries and 'Oversize Loads' roar past at 90kph with little or no hard shoulder for cyclists.
We've been told in equal measure how beautiful Northern Ontario is and how brutal the black-fly are, how stunning the scenery is and how bad and hard the roads are. But as we rode it the few days into Sault Ste. Marie we just didn't enjoy riding on it. So maybe next time Northern Ontario... tell 'em we went that way... headed south!

Toronto - Sault Ste. Marie

2008-06-14T10:43:00.000-07:00

Jon:
From pigs to the Bruce to black fly to the Big Canoe to rainy days on the porch to the Soo...

A long stretch of riding all day every day covering good distances come rain or shine. From NogAlmo we set off through farmland; long straight straight roads that we followed for days on end. Got pulled over by the local constabulary for cycling straight across a junction with a stop sign despite the fact that I could see 3 miles in every direction and there was no traffic! Well I could see 3 miles in every direction except the police car parked in the ditch presumably for just such an event as an Englishman disrespecting the rule of Canadian law!
Lucky they didn't catch us breaking the 50kph speed limit going down a big hill - who knows what might have happened!
After that we got pulled off the road by a shout from Ken sitting out on his back-porch, "Yous guys need water?" Well... we did need water. But the beer, the friends, the couches and the good times were all an unexpected bonus!

From there we followed the coast of Lake Huron northwards up the Bruce Peninsula all the way to Tobermory. We pulled off the road for a break to rest out of the sun under some trees and were introduced to the locals; black fly! They swarmed us within minutes and bury themselves in your clothes and hair to feast on you at their leisure. It wasn't until we pulled up a the ferry terminal half an hour later that I realised I was bleeding from dozens of places all up my arms and legs where the friendly black fly had bitten me with anti-coagulants.

Ferry crossing number 6 of the trip was the Chi-Cheemaun or 'Big Canoe' from the local Ojibwa language. A fine vessel taking us from sun-soaked shores to dense fog and rain. We first tried to shelter from the rain under trees until we discovered that black fly are as comfortable in heavy rain as they are in the sunshine!
We cycled through heavy rain in the warm damp interior of Manitoulin Island for another few hours until we pulled off to ask for info at a motel. Checking the tv weather forecast - heavy rain solidly for the next 3 days we decided that night might be one to part with a few dollars and stay inside and get dry...

After that we headed off the island and back into mainland Ontario where, after another stop at a public library we stayed with Gus in Webbwood. A night of many bicycle-related stories and tales of which my favourite was a quote from five-time Tour de France winning cyclist Jacques Anquetil,
"To prepare for a race, there is nothing better than a good pheasant, some champagne and a woman."

To which my only response was, it's a bloody good job I'm not racing! All I've got is fig bars and Wei-Ho!

(I told him to look Roman)

After that was a fierce three days solid riding into Sault Ste. Marie where we were taken in by Lynda and her lovely family, fed, warmed, guitarred and sent on our merry way full of smiles from this stage of the ride through the Canadaland!

On the farm with the Saque

2008-06-12T18:36:00.000-07:00

A brief ride on from the "meeting place" and we're in Menonite country; a bizarre land of straight straight roads and dudes in centuries old attire who don't believe in infernal combustion engines and ride their horses e'erywheres. People says "How yous guys doon?" and amidst it all on a pig farm is a man... some might say no mere man... no mere mortal! ... some might not.

He keeps his friends close and his bacon closer still, and we're grateful for his couches, his beer and his greens.

May you never wake up with a wolf sticking out of your face my friend. See you on the other side!

Breakfast with Frost

2008-05-31T07:17:00.000-07:00

Since Burlington we've started each morning not only with porridge and tea and honey, but also with the words of Mr. Frost. A most pleasant way to watch water boil.

Breathes there a bard who isn't moved
When he finds his verse is understood
And not entirely disapproved
By his Country and his Neighborhood?
[found at the entrance to the Frost Trail in the Green Mountains, outside Ripton, Vermont]

The surest thing there is is we are riders
And though none too successful at it, guiders,
Through everything presented, land and tide,
And now the very air, of what we ride.

What is this talked-of mystery of birth
But being mounted bareback on the earth?
We can just see the infant up astride,
His small fist buried in the bushy hide.

There is our wildest mount - a headless horse.
But though it runs unbridled off its course,
And all our blandishments would seem defied,
We have ideas yet, that we haven't tried.

...
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

City Slickers Eat Big

2008-05-29T12:04:00.000-07:00

BBQ whole chicken, sausages, ribs, steak, all day breakfast of bacon, fried eggs, pancakes, hash browns, maple syrup, toast, kaya, fried tomatoes, baked beans, congee, ho fun, turnip cake, singapore fried noodles, won tuns, pinics, lobster dinner, box of mangoes, curried fish balls, HOT & sour soup, Shanghai buns, lettuce wraps, red bean desserts, bubble tea, popcorn chicken, curry dinner! big bowls of Pho, Salad King, viet ice coffee, greek lunch, feta salad, indian sweets, masala tea, Timbits, iced cappuccino, pork buns, english digestives, Maple donuts, fruit explosion muffins, spaghetti and meat sauce, warm apple pie, pecan pie, waffles & ice cream, croissants... we've been well fed...

Having to loosen the top trouser button to stay comfortable is a sure sign it's time to break free from the convenience of the suburban lifestyle and use the expensive new bike parts we've bought.

Thankyou to all our friends who have guided, entertained and fed us through Toronto, Niagra and the enormous Aisan suburbs, in particular to the Wong family who have been exceedingly generous in letting us stay in their house and remind ourselves of what civilized living can be.

Big Hama-side shout-outs also due to Albert Linh and John for showing us another side of Toronto, and taking us for a lovely Indian knees-up!

AND Niagara Falls... the biggest one of those I think I ever saw.

Finally, possibly the worst idea for a cycle-tour... paper underpants. Nuff said.

Oh Canada!

2008-05-28T18:50:00.001-07:00

A tub that managed to squeeze on 3 cars and 2 cycle tourists at various angles, ferried us out of the States and into Canadian waters. The two man customs operation that greeted us was even more understated, didn't bat an eyelid to our mystical journey and forgot to stamp Jon's passport. But the sign that followed was great...

Well... apart from forcing ourselves through the porridge of wind, rain, and cold, and the poor exchange rate, the wind, the cold... and the cold wind, Canada's been pretty frickin awesome eh! We've been taken and welcomed by so many lovely people, fed and helped all along the way!

Thankyou to Wally, Lee, Bobby and Rouge for a magnificent introduction to Canadian hospitality. Bob for taking time off fixing his roof to fix our bikes. Steve and family for taking us in just as we were about to take a wrong turn... even though we had to cycle up a big hill to get to the house. Katherine, Randy, and Brian for their lively knowledge and finding us... AND Doug and Joanne who luxuriated us with another night under a roof, letting us clean our bikes and a welcome lift over the hills the next morning.

The Adirondacks, Halfway to Canada...

2008-05-27T08:52:00.000-07:00

Wei:
Following the escape from Plattsburg’s horrendously un-bike friendly network of trunk roads, I couldn’t help feel a little disappointed entering the Adirondacks park. Perhaps a combination of imaginative anticipation, having had a great time in Burlington and just plain ignorance fuelled an annoyance at still finding most of the edges of the park still well populated and the majority of land privately cordoned.

Sprawling over 3 dimensional topographic maps in the outdoors shops, visualising the 6 million acres of marked green and constant bear precaution advice easily conjured images of continuous rolling wilderness… but the park developed the further we travelled into it, deserted campsites around still lakes, miles of unbroken tree line, wild animal howls, glorious weather and quiet, smooth tarmac.

Initial preconceptions wiped, we settled into our new environments, acknowledging each others preferred roles in setting up camp, cooking, drying etc. welcoming café stops for their sink laundry opportunities, map reading time, warm water, coffee and local ‘delicacies’ of butter milk, donuts, Thai chicken and French vanilla crème.

Libraries were a sanctuary, pharmacies a provider of insect bite relief, waterfalls an idyllic camp spot, pub porches shelter from the rain, clif bars an excuse for a break, peanut butter heavenly spread on apple slices, lakeside rock slabs – time for a rest, refill coffees – more time for the other person to wash in the loo.

One friendly guy finally caught up with us at a stop and said he’d passed us numerous times over the last few days as he drove backwards and forwards, whilst another almost came a cropper, trying to wave with his steering hand as he passed us on his scooter, the other hand busy steadying his fresh coffee.

5 days later the terrain changed once again to pasture land and we were riding through snow storms of dandelion seeds. Our return to the urban highway was indulged with battered seafood fastfood with not a green item on our plastic trays and finally camping at an open campsite in amongst, shrieking holiday weekend fuelled Americans. Our neighbour was a mixture of interesting and drunk, showers disappointingly luke warm, but we slept like logs cushioned under soft turf and breakfast was jon’s treat of omelette and Robert Frost readings. Canada was just a morning’s ride away.

Burlington, VT - Toronto, ON

2008-05-23T18:51:00.000-07:00

We were sent off on our merry way by a lovely young man in a suit.

The first problem we encountered leaving Burlington was a missing 50 yards of bike path en route to the ferry...
But not particularly wanting to cycle the 3 hours back around, superman-Tom leapt boldy across and saved the day! Huzzah!

Or maybe we got ferried across by two lovely Quebecois... I forget.

The Adirondacks is big lake, big tree, big space country.

Jon:
The last two weeks of riding have been a little different, we've slowed down a lot, doing as little as two hours riding some days, just generally rolling along at a more relaxed pace. Part of that was realising we were just going to burn out if we kept up the pace of the first week, but perhaps what put more pressure on us to do this was my knee, which has been aching since the long hilly days of Vermont. Tried various things and seem to have figured how not to aggravate it and keep up a reasonable pace. Just not pushing it too hard each day, and concentrating on my left leg a lot more for the climbs.
The riding through the Adirondacks was a little less spectacular than I had hoped for, (but perhaps all the better for it). We did take the 'easy' route with flatter roads thanks to my knee. The lakes and forests seemingly endless, but without the grand vistas I had hoped for. Still, waking up in the mornings and watching the sun set light to the mist off the lake was truly stunning.

Blinding light sings from the pond surface
Mist and water boil.
Steaming porridge breath, numb hands
Reflected light waves through the pines.

We also experienced our first rain. Stopping early one afternoon to wild camp away from the highway in the quiet of the woods. First opportunity to get out a book and just sink into another's tale, with the soft dripping of rain on the spongy forest floor. Making breakfast the next morning my music was punctuated with the heavy wet sounds of the rain making it's way from leaf to ground. Very pleasant indeed.
New York's grand open spaces seem very different from Vermont's. Much bigger, much more empty, much more desolate and without people.
As we neared the edge of the Adirondacks the landscape changed again; much flatter riding and the forests change from pines and firs to deciduous forests of lighter greens, looser foliage which seem to sway more with the freedom of space. Passing our nights in closed state campgrounds we heard wolves howling at full moons all night long. Cold too. Sleeping in hats and socks.

"After supper we went up-stairs and smoked and read in bed to keep warm. Once in the night I woke and heard the wind blowing. It felt good to be warm and in bed." - Hemingway, The Sun Also Rises

We were treated to several spectacular evenings; full moons dancing on slowly shifting ponds, and sunsets bursting through black clouds to light bands of spectacular reds and yellows sandwiched between cool blues of sky and cool greens of forest floor, clouds reminiscent of Constable.
Long periods without showers mean a lot of cafe-restroom-sink-washing. That's laundry AND full-body wash (when there's a lock on the door...).

Crossing the border at Cape Vincent was a one man and his dog operation. Smiling American custom officers laugh as we board the ferry, Canadian just nod and welcome. The scenery reminds me of the Northumberland of half-term holidays; and lo and behold, within days we pass through Northumberland county, then Durham, Newcastle, Bristol, Scarborough, Brighton... even Braintree. Apparently efforts of a government scheme to make a New 'England' to attract American royalists.
The change over to kilometres was a welcome one. As soon as we crossed the border a hellish wind rose up to meet us. Cycling against a strong headwind for a week is not cricket! If we were still working in miles the numbers would depress. The weather changed for the worse too, getting icy cold with rain and sleet. After I left my full-finger gloves behind on the pier stateside I resorted to socks as mittens, two pairs with sandwich bags as wind-breakers on the feet! Stopping plenty for tea and coffee to warm cold hands and dry damp bums.

Mindless pedalling days, days when;
Everything is better in the sun,
Everything is better when you stop.
Everything is better with a cup of tea.
The wind rips across long grass making it swell like rough seas.

"Heaven gives its glimpses to those,
Not in a position to look too close." - Frost, A Passing Glimpse

[more to come...]

3 days to Toronto

2008-05-20T18:42:00.000-07:00

3 days to Toronto!
3 days to Toronto!
3 days to Toronto!
3 days to Toronto!
3 days to Toronto!
3 days to Toronto!

Life is Good in Burlington

2008-05-12T09:47:00.000-07:00

MASSIVE THANKS to Tom and Kristin for putting up two wobbly legged cyclists for 3 days and returning to them the pleasures of civilised society plus teaching them a few slack line tricks!

Thankyou for the sun, beach, fresh root beer, nepalese curry, flat bread, ben & jerries, beer, waffles, pancakes, spaghetti, wheat thins, hot showers, bed, good music, allowing us to colonise the living room, guiding us through the Burlington jungle, and all the rest... awesome possum !

Boston - Burlington

2008-05-10T16:39:00.001-07:00

Jon:
Packed up and set awf!
First thing, I pull out my camera to take the first pic, "beep-beep" "lens-error, please restart camera." and that was the last considered response I got from it. All the photos are Wei's.
Riding was great, this trip has been in my mind for so long that it was great to just get on with it. The roads up through Massachusetts, New Hampshire and Vermont were amazing. We passed through about four different zones; from the grand New England Avenues leading out of Boston to the hills lakes and woods of New Hampshire, and then into Robert Frost's Green Mountains in Vermont before heading up through windy farming valleys with picturesque barns and picket fences en route to Burlington. Everything is springing into life, lush greens fill the vistas. We were a little worried about rain so we rushed a little to reach Burlington, think we'll have to calm down the pace a little - we're completely knackered!

The last day's ride started with climbing a 3000 ft pass before plunging down into the icy morning air on the shadow-side. A man I'd asked about the weather in the grocery store the day before passed in his car, rolled down his window and yelled,
"Friend, no rain for the next three days! Good Luck!" and with that I grinned a hearty grin, and pedalled on.

"The mountain held the town as in a shadow.
I saw so much before I slept there once:
I noticed that I missed stars in the west,
Where its black body cut into the sky." - Robert Frost

After that was gentle rolling hills of farmland but the wind was killer! So painful to be heaving away and barely moving. We stopped to finish the last of our food, bread and peanut butter, dinner leftovers, and picked up a bacon-cheeseburger with fries...

Wei:
Adjusting to a new lifestyle is never easy and the first week has been a bit of an rollercoaster; new exciting scenery, smells and tastes have complimented the worries of eating, sleeping, anonimity when camping and the realisation that this is not going to be an easy trip, physically and mentally.

With an average of around 50 miles covered a day, sunshine, no showers, friendly and generous strangers, the first 5 days riding has been fantastic. Particularly satisfying was the Middlebury pass; continuous climbing up to 2000feet, 12% grade and the ski slope at the top still sporting plenty of snow...

Legs, knees, shoulders are hurting but a hot shower and a couple of nights in a bed at Tom & Kristin's home should be able to cure all!

It Begins!

2008-05-04T16:37:00.000-07:00

Hello friends!
Been hanging around the Boston and the New York of late, living it up, and doing our best to get fat for the trip. Sampling the culinary delights of New York dessert houses, horrendously large portioned southern fried chicken,street fair funnel cake and even a grocery store with a walk in cold room. This was where all your refrigerated products were, with heavy duffle coats prvided for extra warmth if one were spending extended time there!

We've been equally adventurous in Boston, attempting to sample the local 7-eleven slush puppyesque drinks which resulted in a horrible taste sensation and corresponding facial expressions.

Even managed to explore the metropolis on tandem in the rain courtesy of Sam and his great bike shop!

Finally all ready to set off on the morrow.
Heading west through Massachusetts until we hit Worcester and then turning north through Vermont. Visiting lovely Tom in Burlington before striking out across the Adirondacks towards Canadaland and Toronto!

BIG LOVE to Mina, Nathan, Sam and DavePatrickTimAndroo&Steven for the floors, couches, bicycles and FOOD! You are clearly the bestest people in the cities of Boston and New York. Hands down.