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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
Somewhere On The Side Of The Road (Literally) Near Erofie Pavlovich
Day 30 - June 15 -
The road progressively gets worse, making the miles we once thought
were difficult seem, in retrospect, much more manageable. Once we
hit paved road again, we will appreciate it, like spring after a long
winter. Cutting through the woods, the dirt and rock path weaves its
way ahead. Unlike other places where logging is more apparent, there
are not as many places to camp. Thus, today we literally set up camp
in the road.
Areas where they are working on bridges and overpasses tend to be
a bit wider, in order to accommodate detour traffic. While people
are generally surprised to see bicyclists in Siberia, imagine the
surprise when driving down an isolated, unfinished road, they turn
the corner, and see 11 tents, 22 foreigners, and a detour sign. People
were getting out of their cars to take pictures and at one point there
was a small traffic jam ... five cars.
It is hard to imagine what people thought - one truck stopped and
asked if they could buy beer - but just like a regular night, we went
to sleep and ignored the traffic around us, much as we would the trains
passing in the night.
In The Road, Past Amazar
Day 31 - June 16
It must seem somewhat like an obsession that I often write about the
roads but it does present itself as a daily struggle. Today we saw
the worst roads yet, and it is difficult to imagine anything worse
that could still be called a road. In places, the rocks were so large
or the inclines so steep, we were forced to walk our bikes. Going
downhill, speeds exceeded 55 km/hr and we kept a constant eye on the
path ahead to avoid being caught off guard by a large rock.
We are still on the Federal Road, and every day it becomes clearer
what an endeavor building this road must be. Construction workers
comprise the main traffic on the road and they are often offering
tea, or something stronger, to drink (a man this morning wanted me
to come over for a shot of "Russian tea," meaning vodka; I respectfully
declined until the next time I was in the region without my bicycle.)
And while everyone is supportive, they all have different opinions
and estimates for the best route and the road ahead. The general opi1nion
is that Chita is about 700 km away, but everyone differs on when the
roads get better. The range is anywhere from 250 km to 1400 km, but
most say the roads are good after Chita. It will be another week before
we know who is right.
Despite the primitive state of the roads, the area possesses a spectacular
beauty. The forests are thick and green, creating a vast space that
feels isolated and unforgiving. Flowers are beginning to bloom under
the forest canopy, birds are always singing, and regardless of the
challenge we face on the roads, the surroundings are amazing and appreciated.
Kluchevskii
Day 32 - June 17
I know that the status of the roads is of limited interest and updates
about them become redundant, but I am learning to appreciate the
nuances of bad roads. Today's path was exceptionally bumpy with
wave-like gradations and palm-sized rocks everywhere. The end result
was very sore arms and a sense of having been thrown about by my
chosen object of transport.
Nature, however, offered two other challenges this day, that distracted
us some from the state of the roads: fire and flies. We are still
probably a week and 800 km from Chita, yet the day was very hazy
due to forest fires that have been reportedly burning near that
city. When we began cycling in the morning, the smokiness was noticeable
in the air. As the day went on, it became less noticeable with regards
to breathing but still impressive for the size of the fires it seemed
to imply.
The biggest nuisance, however, was the flies. I do not know what type they were, but they are exceptionally persistent and extremely fast fliers. They seem bigger than the horse flies we have back home, probably twice the size, though as the story is retold in a few years, closer to ten times the size, and with teeth! As we cycle, they swarm around us. They ride on your back or legs and their bite leaves much more of a mark than that of mosquitoes. These tenacious pests have left our legs and arms looking as if we are recovering from a bad case of Chicken Pox. Furthermore, the flies leave a mess when they hit your sun glasses (think of bugs on the grill of a car) and one must be careful to cycle with a closed mouth. Ah, such is the romance of cycling in Siberia!
10 km Past Ksenevka
Day 33 - June 18
The last few days, it seemed as if we started each day with a very difficult hill; so difficult at times that we had to walk up with our bicycles.
All of these hills are unappreciated, especially by those of us who are slow to wake up, but the work does help take the chill off of the early morning frost.
After our difficult climb, this morning, we decided to reward ourselves with a warm cup of tea at the local cafe when we got to a village. While the coffee and tea were quite average, what was interesting was that the man who gave us directions to the cafe was a Buddhist, the first Buddhist I have met on the trip thus far, and the cafe was run by Armenians, also a first for this trip. The presence of Buddhist people has much to do with the proximity to China; the Armenians, on the other hand, are very far away from Armenia, making their presence here seem much less coincidental.
After leaving the cafe, we discovered what would keep the flies away: a hard cold rain. I am not sure if it was an even trade, as we were forced to seek shelter in a train car that was sitting on the tracks. As the worst of the storm seemed to pass, the conductor asked us to leave and we went on to seek dryness and warmth in another cafe.
Having stalled all we could, we continued on another 15 km to where the truck was parked. After we finished unloading the truck and started to set up camp, the rain stopped. And though we were wet, at least the flies were gone for the night.
In The Middle Of The Road, Past Ulyakan
Day 34 - June 19
The surroundings are beautiful, but at times the fight with the
roads and the sense of isolation make the day seem long. As we are
cycling along a road that is under construction, we do not go through
many villages and the most contact we have with others is with drivers
and construction workers.
I know that I have mentioned before the moral support from the drivers
and construction workers, but it continues to be a theme that helps
make the days enjoyable. When things seem most difficult, we invariably
come into contact with someone who offers a gesture of support and
encouragement. Today, the most memorable were an older man who laid
down his shovel and grasped both hands above his head to cheer us
along; and a middle-aged truck driver who leaned out of the window
and, with a smile that showed a mouth of gold-capped teeth, yelled
"excellent; keep going!"
It is moments like these that keep us going when we are tired, and
remind me how often such simple and common gestures hold greater
significance to the recipient.
20 km Past Chernishevsk
Day 35 - June 20
I am beginning to think that Russians do not trust Russians. Over
the last month or so, there have been numerous warnings about certain
villages where we should not stay or at least where we should be
extra cautious because of "bandits."
Crime is an issue in any country and I certainly to not want to
belittle warnings lest fate be tempted, but it was just today that
I noticed a trend in all the warnings: all who speak of bandits,
speak of them in villages other than their own; they see where they
live as safe and everywhere else filled with dangerous people.
I do believe there is genuine concern in their cautions, but so
far my experience with Russians has been very positive. Even individuals
that I thought may be categorized as "bandits" (though I am not
really sure what that means), when I talked with them about the
trip, they have been both excited and supportive.
Having been warned by a man in Chernishevsk of all the bandits in
the surrounding villages, we continued on and set up camp by a pond
in the middle of some plains. It was quite a surprise in the morning
to leave the trees and hills and begin cycling in flat land, but
the surprise and excitement soon gave way to regret as a strong
wind accompanied the flatness.
As the wind we had fought throughout the day swept through our camp
that evening, I was struck by the silence. We were away from the
road and from the train tracks, and all that could be heard was
the whispering wind.
Silence is rare in the world we live and when you really stop to
listen to it, it can seem alarmingly loud and beautifully discomforting.
Reflecting on it, it seems that we move a lot, but only when we
stop to hear nothing that we actually hear what we have been missing.
Somewhere Past Shilka
Day 36 - June 21 -
A question that I am often asked by local people is 'where do I bathe
and do laundry?' We camp near rivers and lakes, which gives any story
picturesque charm. In reality, however, that means a really cold bathing
experience. Fast moving water is always the worst, and while some
optimists in the group say that the water is nice, I am always quick
to point out that I have never enjoyed a shower at this temperature.
Looking in a mirror for the first time in over a week, I realized
that I should spend more time with the cold water, for you always
feel cleaner if you cannot see yourself.
As idyllic as it is to bathe in a cold stream or lake, it is equally
effective to do laundry there. This morning, for example, when I looked
at the laundry I had done the night before, I wondered why I even
bothered. All I really do is move the dirt from one part of the shirt
to another and since dirt is only misplaced matter, having a white
shirt that looks gray is something that I can tolerate.
Since the day was so windy and dusty, the visual reward of all my
hard work was for naught. But while it may be okay to look like you
have cycled 120 km on a dirt road, it is definitely best not to smell
like it. Thus, in the end the seemingly futile efforts at hygiene
do seem worth it, and tomorrow will be yet another cold stream.
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