 |
Week 1 | Week 2 | Week
3 | Week 4
| Week 5
| Week 6
| Week 7
| Week 8
| Week 9
Week 10
| Week 11
| Week 12
| Week 13
| Week 14
| Week 15
Shimanovsk
Day 23 - June 8
The day resembled a November rain, cold and constant. By mid-day,
there was no part of me that was dry and no warm part, either.
The upside is that such numbness creates the ideal environment for
a banya, which we were able to get in once we arrived in the town
of Shimanovsk. We were able to find a warm, dry place to stay, which
made a town without charm seem comfortable.
One resident said the town was created to help build the Soviet
Union's atomic bomb, but I did not have any way to verify his remark.
That was, however, the best explaination I received as to why the
town was where it was.
Sivaki
Day 24 - June 9
The road was difficult, but it becomes more tolerable, and there are
always people who give the inspiration necessary to get through the
day. One man got out of his truck and flagged down a few of us to
give us bottled mineral water and some candies. He had seen us on
television in Vladivostok and when he saw us, he wanted to give all
the support that he could.
The gestures are signs of human kindness which stand in stark contrast
to the way the Soviet Union was depicted by the media during my childhood.
As we cycled through the town of Bereya, we came across a hammer and
sickle statue by the railroad tracks. As I set my bike there to take
a picture, Valerie, the Russian cyclist in the group, sat down wanting
to get our picture taken together -- an American and a Russian friendship
is much more meaningful than political rhetoric.
Much of the day, however, I thought about various metaphors to describe
the group. Two metaphors that have come up which I have found unsatisfying
is: 1) the military model and 2) the business model. A few people
have spoken of the daily ride as an assault on the road to reach the
end. Others see the group working together as a business. For various
reasons, neither of those seem to capture the essence of the group
and thus I have opted to use the metaphor of ritual to describe the
trip.
As a community, we are developing through participation in a relatively
primitive ritual of bicycling. Everyday, we get up at a regular hour,
have a meal together and begin cycling. Once cycling, we enter formations
without speaking of what to do and the formations change depending
on the weather and road conditions. As in any hierarchy, there are
certain people who have specialized knowledge -- one who knows the
path the ritual is to follow (who carries the map); one who can linguistically
communicate with the surroundings (speak Russian); one who can repair
the ritual vehicle (fix the bikes); and so forth -- and they function
in a way that allows the community to reach its end destination.
The end destination in a geographic sense is Scheveningen and the
ritual act of cycling is something that brings together people with
diverse backgrounds who might otherwise lack a common foundation for
doing things together. And even as people participate in the ritual,
their individual reasons are no doubt diverse, ranging from a focus
on the end result (cycling across Asia and Europe) to a focus on the
process (emphasizing the journey over the destination.)
As disagreements come up, as the roads get increasingly difficult,
and as personalities clash outside of the cycling ritual, it will
be interesting to see how well the primitive structure of our community
fares. For now, I will keep with the metaphor of ritual and continue
to observe the development of our community.
Somewhere Before Magadagaci
Day 25 - June 10
We are camped across the road from the train tracks and the rolling
sound of the train will no doubt continue throughout the night. Some
have joked that it will be difficult to sleep at home without the
background sound of the train, but I am optimistic that it will pose
little problem. What may be more difficult is trying to live without
putting on mosquito repellent; I have started to think of DEET as
cologne.
The big debate of the day, however, has been the route. Our original
plan was to take the northern route through Severobaikalsk to Bratsk,
rather than the southern route through Chita to Irkutsk. The argument
for choosing the northern route is that there are roads and one of
the cyclists in the group has taken that route before. Initially,
we had decided not to take the southern route because there was not
a road from the east to Chita.
But as we talked with more and more people transporting Japanese cars
to Chita and beyond, we have come to believe that the roads do exist.
There are different reports as to how bad the road to Chita is and
we do not know if it is passable. The overall distance of the trip
would not be altered in any significant way, but if we can take the
southern route, it would save us around 1000 km of unpaved roads because
we know the road from Chita to Irkutsk is paved. We have about a day
and a half before we reach the point where the road splits and we
have to choose.
Taldan
Day 26 - June 11
We have decided to take the southern route. I spoke with a man this
morning who said that two years ago it would not have been possible
to get to Chita from the east (except by train or the bad roads of
the north), but that now it is possible. Everyone says the road is
bad and most cup both hands together to give a description of the
size of rocks in the road that we will face, but we are gambling by
taking a more difficult unpaved section of road in return for a larger
section of paved road later on. Hopefully we are choosing well.
We spent the night in Taldan and as we set up our tents, children
ran over to talk with us. A few had heard about our trip, some having
seen us on television, and were asking for autographs. I suspect their
fascination is as much with seeing such a large group of foreigners
as with people bicycling across their country. If they knew how not
famous and common we all were, I wonder if they would be disappointed.
I tell them that their signatures areas valuable as mine, but they
are quick to say that I write English well and it will impress their
English teacher. I think that response suits our group much better
than fame.
Skovorodino
Day 27 - June 12
Going through the town of Never, we got a taste of what I expect
the roads ahead to be -- steep, rough, and marked with deep ruts
that would send the bike airborne if hit the wrong way. All reports
lead us to expect the worst.
Because of the decision to go via Chita, we scheduled a rest day
in Skovorodino. There was initial excitement upon arrival in town
because there was a hotel and the possibility of a bed and warm
showers. But as today was a national holiday (celebrating Russian
independence), there was only enough space in the hotel for about
half of the group.
Within an hour, however, three of us had arranged for the rest of
the group to stay in the waiting area of the train station. Normally,
you can only stay there if you have a ticket and until your train
arrives. Because we began our inquiry at the city administration
building by having the guard call one of the city officials, we
were able to spend two nights at the train station. Furthermore,
we were able to store our bikes at the administration building and
our truck at the police station.
In a short time, we had managed to turn a seemingly hopeless situation
(at least with regards to the bed and warm shower) into a comfortable
evening. And tomorrow we can sleep in.
Skovorodino
Day 28 - June 13
I never knew that a train station could be so comfortable. No doubt
my appreciation of the simple bed and plain surroundings had a lot
to do with it being warm and slightly more comfortable than I would
have been on the ground.
I had big plans for the day -- I was going to go to the bank and
post office and find a place where there was Internet (I had even
thought about what I might have to say/pay to persuade them to give
me access) -- but as it was the day after the holiday, almost every
place was closed.
We did some work on the bikes in preparation for the section to
Chita, but most of my day was spent walking around Skovorodina.
There are two parts of town -- old and new -- separated by the train
tracks. We were staying in the new part of town and there was very
little about it that had a feeling of newness and prosperity. It
was not until I walked around the old town that I was able to see
the difference.
While the old section of town appeared more run down and more impoverished,
talking with some people at the train station suggested that the
division between the old and new parts of town ran deeper that my
walk could tell. The reaction to my being there was often a furrowed
brow, upturned lip and the condescending statement in the form of
a question: why would you go there?
As a traveler, others often show you a lot about your own culture.
I have heard such questions in many places I have been, but the
truth is that the people I met in the old part of town were very
friendly and did not seem as unhappy as those in the new part of
town depicted. The train tracks represented a divide along economic
lines; something much less egalitarian than the propaganda of Soviet
socialism.
Bolshoi Oldoi River
Day 29 - June 14
Some days nothing seems to go as planned, but everything works out
in the end. Our room woke up at 5:55 am, preparing to leave at 6:30.
We were told to get up at 6:30 to begin loading the truck at 7. For
whatever reason (maybe the driver drank too much the night before
and overslept, or maybe the truck actually did need to be repaired
and it was not possible to get a message to us), the truck did not
arrive until around 11 am.
After a late start we left, anxious to be on our way. I was near the
back of the group talking with another cyclist as we became victim
to the momentum of the group. Who ever was in the lead was not paying
attention to the road signs and kept going straight on the nice road
rather than turning right as the sign indicated. After 20 km of not
seeing any other cars and remarking on how pleasant the ride was,
we began to think that something was wrong. Sure enough, we were on
the road to China! After our 40 km detour, I gave a few lessons on
the Cyrillic alphabet and we corrected our navigational error. The
correct road was far more bumpy and uncomfortable; rugged if you want
to sound both romantic and masculine, and that gave us the level of
certainty we needed in order to continue towards Chita.
It was impressive to see how bad the only road from the East to such
a major city could be, but after some time, we began cycling on a
portion of the new road that was under construction. In ten years,
it should be very nice.
Because of the way the day started, we were a lot closer to where
we had started than we had intended. Yet fortune prevailed as we set
up camp under a newly constructed bridge. Just as the tents were up,
it started to rain. And as a cool breeze floats along the river, I
write, from a dry patch of ground with a beautiful view, of a day
that I chose to find humorous.
|
|
|
