If you haven't been getting email from me...
DON'T WORRY. Its because I haven't been sending any. I hate mass emails and this blog pretty much fills that purpose anyway. If you want personal emails from me, send me one and I'll do my best to reply (internet is a bit expensive and hard to find outside of the cities here).
Just arrived in Tolouse, and too pooped to blog. It was probably 40 degrees today. Here's my route from Clermont-Ferrand:
Day 1 (day of last blog entry)
Day 2
Day 3 (note me conquerring a 1588 M volcano here)
Day 4
Day 5 (today)
I'll try and write some more tomorrow before I split town, but for now finding food and shower is priority!!!
Saturday, June 30, 2007
Tuesday, June 26, 2007
Mountaineater
I'm in Claremont right now, and upon logging in I've just realized the last post I wrote (the one below) didn't publish for some reason. Put it up now.
Since Bourges things have gotten better - I'm back in the riding rythm and basically covered the entire distance from just outside montlucon to just shy of claremont in one day - thats a solid 80k, loaded, all in the mountains. I felt pretty badass putting in a day like that and stopping early-ish with enough time to find a good spot, cook, and set up camp all while it was still light. I Got up this morning with the intention of riding to the top of the puy de dome, a 1400M volcano, but when I got there they told me bikes were only alowed on fro, 7-9 am, while it was closed to cars. Lame. Istead I dropped into CLaremont which was about 15 km all at a 10 percent grade. Thrilling and a bit scary, as I'm still having a bit of brake trouble - CLaremont is a large enough city so after this I'm off to seek out a decent mechanic. My route next takes me southwest through more volcano territory. Should be good training for the legs and spectacular scenery.
The people int he mountains up here seem to think I am completely insane - I think it is beyond a lot of their comprehension that someone could arrive here on a bicycle - one loaded with gear to boot. This is a bit funny to me, since the title 'massif central' seems to speak more to the french tendency towards self agrandizement than a description of the mountain range. 'Rolling foothils central' would perhaps be more apropriate. Don't get me wrong, it IS hard work pushing throuh here, but comming from BC I would hesitate to call it 'massive.' For a little perspective: the Puy de Dome - one of the tallest mountains in the area is 1400 M. The Lions, part of the coast mountain range that overlook vancouer are 1600 M. Blackcomb Mountain is somewhere in the range of 2200 M. Again, don't get me wrong, I'm not claiming I could (or would even want to) ride up blackcomb - I'm just saying 'masive' is perhaps a relative term.
Anyway, HERE is my last two days, if you are curious. More details down the road, maybe when I get to Tolouse (havent decided on a route yet).
(ps, I'm at a total of 1058km, not counting the day rex got stolen which I havent Gmapped - I suspect it is an aditional 50-60km)
(edited for accuracy - my original statement regarding blackcombs hight was overly large, owing to a confusion between feet and meters. There are no 7000 meter mountains in Canada...)
Since Bourges things have gotten better - I'm back in the riding rythm and basically covered the entire distance from just outside montlucon to just shy of claremont in one day - thats a solid 80k, loaded, all in the mountains. I felt pretty badass putting in a day like that and stopping early-ish with enough time to find a good spot, cook, and set up camp all while it was still light. I Got up this morning with the intention of riding to the top of the puy de dome, a 1400M volcano, but when I got there they told me bikes were only alowed on fro, 7-9 am, while it was closed to cars. Lame. Istead I dropped into CLaremont which was about 15 km all at a 10 percent grade. Thrilling and a bit scary, as I'm still having a bit of brake trouble - CLaremont is a large enough city so after this I'm off to seek out a decent mechanic. My route next takes me southwest through more volcano territory. Should be good training for the legs and spectacular scenery.
The people int he mountains up here seem to think I am completely insane - I think it is beyond a lot of their comprehension that someone could arrive here on a bicycle - one loaded with gear to boot. This is a bit funny to me, since the title 'massif central' seems to speak more to the french tendency towards self agrandizement than a description of the mountain range. 'Rolling foothils central' would perhaps be more apropriate. Don't get me wrong, it IS hard work pushing throuh here, but comming from BC I would hesitate to call it 'massive.' For a little perspective: the Puy de Dome - one of the tallest mountains in the area is 1400 M. The Lions, part of the coast mountain range that overlook vancouer are 1600 M. Blackcomb Mountain is somewhere in the range of 2200 M. Again, don't get me wrong, I'm not claiming I could (or would even want to) ride up blackcomb - I'm just saying 'masive' is perhaps a relative term.
Anyway, HERE is my last two days, if you are curious. More details down the road, maybe when I get to Tolouse (havent decided on a route yet).
(ps, I'm at a total of 1058km, not counting the day rex got stolen which I havent Gmapped - I suspect it is an aditional 50-60km)
(edited for accuracy - my original statement regarding blackcombs hight was overly large, owing to a confusion between feet and meters. There are no 7000 meter mountains in Canada...)
Saturday, June 23, 2007
Luck and the Loire
It was raining when I got up this morning, as it was for the last couple of days. I've had some luck since I decided to ride the loire valley, a lot of it bad. I even started composing a blues song to myself (one of the ways to pass time on the road is to sing in your head, and occasionally out loud) with the chorus 'if it wasn't for bad bike luck, lord I'd have no luck at all.'
Bad Luck:
As has been the case virtually everywhere, getting out of a large city proved to be a pain in the ass. Paris was the worst yet though - the god dammned thing is enormous, qnd it was essentially one full day of riding before I got out of Burbanity. Then it started raining. The ultralight '2 person' (hah!) thent I bought turned out to have no fly, nor any ventilation. You're wet whether its raining or not. It rained, a lot. Then there were the headwinds in the loire valley itself. Nasty, nasty business for two straight days. If this weren't bad enough, my bottom bracket (for you non-geeks out there, thats the little axle that connects your pedal cranks together) started to work itself loose (WTF!). I decided that hell for bad bikers is a place with a slight but eternal incline, headwinds of 25k an hour, and wobbly cranks. The mechanics in the valley were unwilling to lend me tools, nor were their rates reasonable - an unfortunate side effect of choosing to ride in one of the more popular destionations of earth to tour (here, the 'tourers' are more like 'tourists' in the traditional sense). Then I got a flat, caused by a ruptured valve stem - unpatchable, and I discovered that my spare tube was one of the things that dissapeared when tout mes affairs had been jacked. Low blood sugar day. Low point in general. long walk uphill. Today was a gauntlet ride to bourges with a stop every 5 km _hand tightent_ my BB, with a nagging fear that the bike itself was permanent scrap.
Good Luck:
Of course, I'm making it sound like this is some kind of nightmare, which its not. Its just been a couple of frustrating days. Good luck found me too.
When I hit orleans my first stop was Decathlon - the sports outlet where I'd bought my tent. They let me exchange my (soggy) tent no questions asked for a cheaper, eaually light and similarly (and this time honest about its one-man-nes) sized tent. It is not neon green, and hence useless for stealth camping, it has a decent fly, and the tent itself is essentially a giant bugnet with a frame - I'm quite fond of it. I dropped into the tourist info center to pick up some literature on the loire valley by bike. Maps in hand I spend the day yes, fighting the wind, but in magnificent scenery. Castle upon castle (slowly) slid by. I arrived in Blois just around 7 oclock at night only to discover that the whole town was rampin gup for the all night party that is 'La Fete de la Music,' a national holiday that takes place on the solstice and has free music on stages all over town in every city in france. Its an idea we should consider adopting. I saw some really good music, got my dance on, and eventually rolled into the forrest at 2 am, in the dark, to set up my new tent for the first time. It went pretty well. My flat tire turned out not to be a complete disaster in the end, as eventually a pack of british cyclists on a 14 day tour spotted me and stopped to give aid (typical in these parts - it takes a foreigner to offer you help in France). I made it to the castle at chernonceau that afternoon, and rather than pay 10 euros to see the dammned thing, found a sneaky workaround by riding 2km up the road, crossing the river, and rolling back along a back road to end up close enought to touch the thing (there are dogs and tall trees on the other side of the river placed there to prevent you from even daring to laying eyes on the castle for free)
Unfortunately until I get a new camera cable or card reader, thats all you get.
Today I rocked into Bourges, intending to take the train back into paris to bitch out the mechanic who had either sold me a bum bottom bracket or done a sloppy job of installing it. Before paying for the ticket though, I had the sense to hit up an internet cafe and do a bit of research - sometething about french BBs being wacky in some way was nagging at the back of my mind. Sure enough, bikeforums.net provided the answer (french BBs are now obsolete as they have the bad habit of working themselves loose - the solution: re-seat the sucker WELL and put in some locktite to keep it there). So I'll roll on tonight, having dropped 20 more euros on the bike, but a small price compared to what I had expected the episode to cost me, and no detours back to Paris - thank god.
I've actually got a whole post I'd like to write about my thoughts on paris, but I think its going to have to wait for next time, as the road calls and its starting to get late. I've begun to slip back into a comfprtable rythm, and I'm getting faster and faster. If I hadn't stopped in Bourges all afternoon I might have done 140K today - seriously.
Anyway, ERE is my ride since leaving paris. Next stop is Montluçcon where I'm told there is a church with a magnificent organ that is a replica of one Bach played on? composed for? something. Then further and further south, possibly though the Massif Central - a chain of apparently beautiful mountains, if I'm feeling massacistic. I dont know if I'll make Barcelona for the begginning of july (though I'd like to, as I've some cool people to meet) but the road will take me where it will.
Don't know when I'll have internet next - its hard to come by in these parts - but until then, thinking of all you wonderful jerks!
Bad Luck:
As has been the case virtually everywhere, getting out of a large city proved to be a pain in the ass. Paris was the worst yet though - the god dammned thing is enormous, qnd it was essentially one full day of riding before I got out of Burbanity. Then it started raining. The ultralight '2 person' (hah!) thent I bought turned out to have no fly, nor any ventilation. You're wet whether its raining or not. It rained, a lot. Then there were the headwinds in the loire valley itself. Nasty, nasty business for two straight days. If this weren't bad enough, my bottom bracket (for you non-geeks out there, thats the little axle that connects your pedal cranks together) started to work itself loose (WTF!). I decided that hell for bad bikers is a place with a slight but eternal incline, headwinds of 25k an hour, and wobbly cranks. The mechanics in the valley were unwilling to lend me tools, nor were their rates reasonable - an unfortunate side effect of choosing to ride in one of the more popular destionations of earth to tour (here, the 'tourers' are more like 'tourists' in the traditional sense). Then I got a flat, caused by a ruptured valve stem - unpatchable, and I discovered that my spare tube was one of the things that dissapeared when tout mes affairs had been jacked. Low blood sugar day. Low point in general. long walk uphill. Today was a gauntlet ride to bourges with a stop every 5 km _hand tightent_ my BB, with a nagging fear that the bike itself was permanent scrap.
Good Luck:
Of course, I'm making it sound like this is some kind of nightmare, which its not. Its just been a couple of frustrating days. Good luck found me too.
When I hit orleans my first stop was Decathlon - the sports outlet where I'd bought my tent. They let me exchange my (soggy) tent no questions asked for a cheaper, eaually light and similarly (and this time honest about its one-man-nes) sized tent. It is not neon green, and hence useless for stealth camping, it has a decent fly, and the tent itself is essentially a giant bugnet with a frame - I'm quite fond of it. I dropped into the tourist info center to pick up some literature on the loire valley by bike. Maps in hand I spend the day yes, fighting the wind, but in magnificent scenery. Castle upon castle (slowly) slid by. I arrived in Blois just around 7 oclock at night only to discover that the whole town was rampin gup for the all night party that is 'La Fete de la Music,' a national holiday that takes place on the solstice and has free music on stages all over town in every city in france. Its an idea we should consider adopting. I saw some really good music, got my dance on, and eventually rolled into the forrest at 2 am, in the dark, to set up my new tent for the first time. It went pretty well. My flat tire turned out not to be a complete disaster in the end, as eventually a pack of british cyclists on a 14 day tour spotted me and stopped to give aid (typical in these parts - it takes a foreigner to offer you help in France). I made it to the castle at chernonceau that afternoon, and rather than pay 10 euros to see the dammned thing, found a sneaky workaround by riding 2km up the road, crossing the river, and rolling back along a back road to end up close enought to touch the thing (there are dogs and tall trees on the other side of the river placed there to prevent you from even daring to laying eyes on the castle for free)
Unfortunately until I get a new camera cable or card reader, thats all you get.
Today I rocked into Bourges, intending to take the train back into paris to bitch out the mechanic who had either sold me a bum bottom bracket or done a sloppy job of installing it. Before paying for the ticket though, I had the sense to hit up an internet cafe and do a bit of research - sometething about french BBs being wacky in some way was nagging at the back of my mind. Sure enough, bikeforums.net provided the answer (french BBs are now obsolete as they have the bad habit of working themselves loose - the solution: re-seat the sucker WELL and put in some locktite to keep it there). So I'll roll on tonight, having dropped 20 more euros on the bike, but a small price compared to what I had expected the episode to cost me, and no detours back to Paris - thank god.
I've actually got a whole post I'd like to write about my thoughts on paris, but I think its going to have to wait for next time, as the road calls and its starting to get late. I've begun to slip back into a comfprtable rythm, and I'm getting faster and faster. If I hadn't stopped in Bourges all afternoon I might have done 140K today - seriously.
Anyway, ERE is my ride since leaving paris. Next stop is Montluçcon where I'm told there is a church with a magnificent organ that is a replica of one Bach played on? composed for? something. Then further and further south, possibly though the Massif Central - a chain of apparently beautiful mountains, if I'm feeling massacistic. I dont know if I'll make Barcelona for the begginning of july (though I'd like to, as I've some cool people to meet) but the road will take me where it will.
Don't know when I'll have internet next - its hard to come by in these parts - but until then, thinking of all you wonderful jerks!
Saturday, June 16, 2007
Viva la velorution
She Rolls...
It was not a particularly fun task, and I do not exaggerate one iota when I say that a lot of blood, sweat, and tears went into this new bike. Literally on all counts. There were incompatibilities galore, and I've gone down to 7 speeds on the rear cassette, with my 11T sprocket offline. Sawing and power grinding were involved in getting this bike to roll.
It looks like what I've gotten my hands on is some kind of precursor to cyclocross bikes. The mechanic told me its from 1960, and the cantilever brakes combined with a tight frame (little pedal clearance in the front), light tubing, and lack of excess braze ons for rack mounting tells me its a race bike not a true tourer. Regardless, she's beautiful, and she's what I could find in the time I had on the budget I have, so she's coming to turkey with me.
At the Arch de Triomph, feeling, well, triumphant.
Huge thanks are in order to Mike, who's been putting me up, and to Murat (pictured below) who lives at the bike squat and has provided me with all the tools I needed, as well as A+ tasty food and turkish coffee pretty much everytime I've gone over to work. I've also had the chance to put some help into his evolving tall tandem; I hope to get to ride it before I skip town.
_______________________________________________________________________
Expatriate games:
Take a minute, if you've got one, to keep an eye on what other eastvan kids are doing over here in ye olde worlde:
Tim Wyatt, the Ten Speed Cowboy:
http://tenspeedcowboy.net
Mike Kushnir, host extraordinaire (also maker of many good breakfasts)
http://twilightcity.wordpress.com
Tuesday, June 12, 2007
Je te presente Leuze
I didn't think it was going to happen-
I'd been to every bike shop in town that sells used bikes (les velos d'occasion), and it was coming down to a choice between one overpriced bike that I didn't like very much and another overpriced bike I didn't like very much. There were some encounters with a few remarkably unsympathetic mechanics and shop clerks along the way. My stock in the French was dropping rapidly.
Then by chance I returned to Bic'loun, the shop I'd first dropped into and test road the dreamy and affordably priced road bike that, unfortunately wasn't really what I was looking for. If I lived in paris this would be the shop I hit up most frequently - their prices are fair, the staff is nice, and they have a simply amazing collection of vintage and rare bikes hanging about the shop (pictures to come if I go back with my camera). The basement is packed with sexy vintage road bikes that are priced from 100-400 Euros; it amazes me that so many people ride junkers around town when a place like this exists.
I'd gone back to tell them not to hold the road bike for me, and to see if- somehow- some new stuff had turned up in the basement. It hadn't, but as I was talking to the clerk it got suddenly busy and another mechanic came out to help. Turned out he was the owner. I asked him if he knew anywhere in town I could buy JUST a used frame (everyone seems to sell complete bikes only). 'We've got them' he tells me. 'Ah, oui, j'en ai vu, mais je cherche quelque chose en particulaire - un cadre de randonner' (a touring frame). 'What size of wheels?' He asks, 'what frame size?' 700C and 54 cm I explain. 'Hold on, I might have something downstairs.'
He returns in a few minutes with Leuze, a dreamy metalic blue offered at the equally dreamy price of 100 euros (compared to the 300 being asked for the only other true tourer I've yet seen, or the 450 a new frame would have cost me.
She's got beautiful lug details, is light steel, and is of an unknown make (potentially hand crafted? My French is serving me quite well but fell down when he was explaining this).
She's named after a little town in belgium that is unremarkable save for the fact that it has a pretty name and that I had a hard time finding somewhere to sleep near.
I start building her tomorrow, and plan to put some time in helping Mike's friend Murat (one of the bike squat kids) work on his tall-tandem (yes, you read that right, a tall tandem bike).
Thanks to everyone for their kind words and support, I should have my wheels back any day.
In the mean time Ive been ripping around town on a rickety but quite striking borrowed green Motoconfort road bike, and its given me back my mobility. I truly felt chopped at the legs without something to ride - it was a strange experience. The upside was that I got to experience french trains and the Paris Metro, neither of which I would have probably tried if Rex had been in order. The metro really is pretty cool, and the entrances look like they were designed by Geiger or Gaudi (or their bastard lovechild). I mentioned that trafic here is crazy, but the longer I ride in it the more I begin to see it as an ordered chaos. While The air pollution is pretty bad, there seems to be little road rage, or even use of the horn - I've yet to see an accident. In my search for Leuze I've pedalled to pretty much every corner of the city (guess what, it's REALLY BIG) and have come to feel the streets quite well; Vancouver will never really seem the same I don't think. You really have to get your 'dont fuck with me' body language, road positioning, and game face on at times, and its a rush to work your way into a massive roundabout with 6 exiting streets and 200 cars. I think I might just miss it.
(PS, my apologies to Leanne - you were absolutely right!)
(PPS, I've uploaded some new photos and added a link to my flickr site on the right underneath the little map)
I'd been to every bike shop in town that sells used bikes (les velos d'occasion), and it was coming down to a choice between one overpriced bike that I didn't like very much and another overpriced bike I didn't like very much. There were some encounters with a few remarkably unsympathetic mechanics and shop clerks along the way. My stock in the French was dropping rapidly.
Then by chance I returned to Bic'loun, the shop I'd first dropped into and test road the dreamy and affordably priced road bike that, unfortunately wasn't really what I was looking for. If I lived in paris this would be the shop I hit up most frequently - their prices are fair, the staff is nice, and they have a simply amazing collection of vintage and rare bikes hanging about the shop (pictures to come if I go back with my camera). The basement is packed with sexy vintage road bikes that are priced from 100-400 Euros; it amazes me that so many people ride junkers around town when a place like this exists.
I'd gone back to tell them not to hold the road bike for me, and to see if- somehow- some new stuff had turned up in the basement. It hadn't, but as I was talking to the clerk it got suddenly busy and another mechanic came out to help. Turned out he was the owner. I asked him if he knew anywhere in town I could buy JUST a used frame (everyone seems to sell complete bikes only). 'We've got them' he tells me. 'Ah, oui, j'en ai vu, mais je cherche quelque chose en particulaire - un cadre de randonner' (a touring frame). 'What size of wheels?' He asks, 'what frame size?' 700C and 54 cm I explain. 'Hold on, I might have something downstairs.'
He returns in a few minutes with Leuze, a dreamy metalic blue offered at the equally dreamy price of 100 euros (compared to the 300 being asked for the only other true tourer I've yet seen, or the 450 a new frame would have cost me.
She's got beautiful lug details, is light steel, and is of an unknown make (potentially hand crafted? My French is serving me quite well but fell down when he was explaining this).
She's named after a little town in belgium that is unremarkable save for the fact that it has a pretty name and that I had a hard time finding somewhere to sleep near.
I start building her tomorrow, and plan to put some time in helping Mike's friend Murat (one of the bike squat kids) work on his tall-tandem (yes, you read that right, a tall tandem bike).
Thanks to everyone for their kind words and support, I should have my wheels back any day.
In the mean time Ive been ripping around town on a rickety but quite striking borrowed green Motoconfort road bike, and its given me back my mobility. I truly felt chopped at the legs without something to ride - it was a strange experience. The upside was that I got to experience french trains and the Paris Metro, neither of which I would have probably tried if Rex had been in order. The metro really is pretty cool, and the entrances look like they were designed by Geiger or Gaudi (or their bastard lovechild). I mentioned that trafic here is crazy, but the longer I ride in it the more I begin to see it as an ordered chaos. While The air pollution is pretty bad, there seems to be little road rage, or even use of the horn - I've yet to see an accident. In my search for Leuze I've pedalled to pretty much every corner of the city (guess what, it's REALLY BIG) and have come to feel the streets quite well; Vancouver will never really seem the same I don't think. You really have to get your 'dont fuck with me' body language, road positioning, and game face on at times, and its a rush to work your way into a massive roundabout with 6 exiting streets and 200 cars. I think I might just miss it.
(PS, my apologies to Leanne - you were absolutely right!)
(PPS, I've uploaded some new photos and added a link to my flickr site on the right underneath the little map)
Monday, June 11, 2007
French Lessons
Frame = Cadre
Pedals = pedailles
wheel = roue
spoke = rayon
saddle = siege
brakes = freins
I could go on for hours.
I went to a dozen bike shops today looking for a new frame... my other french lesson was that, for the french at least, monday is the new sunday. or sunday #2. or something. anyway, maybe only half of them were open. I only found one used touring frame, and it came only as a whole bike - the guy wanted 300 euros for it, which to me is a bit steep. there is also a store that specializes in touring gear here (new only) and they were also closed - but the guy at the shop nextdoor, which is connected in some capacity, seemed quite symqthetic and seemed to convey the idea that they might cut a deal on something for me because helping touring bikers was something they were into. fingers crossed. Otherwise its a regular road bike, and I have some concerns whether one can handle the extra stress of weight all day over 4000 km.
Today I also bought some new tools and a sleeping bag. I bought the bag at an outdoor store here that was remarkably cheaper (though apparently of comperable quality) to MEC. I might go back and exchange the sleeping bag (50 euros) for an even lighter one which packs up smaller than any bag Ive ever seen, but is only good down to 10° - its only 40 euros. They also have tiny 1 man 1.5kg tents and 2 man 2kg tents for 89/95 euros, but I'm still considering the no-tent tarp only option.
Pedals = pedailles
wheel = roue
spoke = rayon
saddle = siege
brakes = freins
I could go on for hours.
I went to a dozen bike shops today looking for a new frame... my other french lesson was that, for the french at least, monday is the new sunday. or sunday #2. or something. anyway, maybe only half of them were open. I only found one used touring frame, and it came only as a whole bike - the guy wanted 300 euros for it, which to me is a bit steep. there is also a store that specializes in touring gear here (new only) and they were also closed - but the guy at the shop nextdoor, which is connected in some capacity, seemed quite symqthetic and seemed to convey the idea that they might cut a deal on something for me because helping touring bikers was something they were into. fingers crossed. Otherwise its a regular road bike, and I have some concerns whether one can handle the extra stress of weight all day over 4000 km.
Today I also bought some new tools and a sleeping bag. I bought the bag at an outdoor store here that was remarkably cheaper (though apparently of comperable quality) to MEC. I might go back and exchange the sleeping bag (50 euros) for an even lighter one which packs up smaller than any bag Ive ever seen, but is only good down to 10° - its only 40 euros. They also have tiny 1 man 1.5kg tents and 2 man 2kg tents for 89/95 euros, but I'm still considering the no-tent tarp only option.
Sunday, June 10, 2007
Merde.
So it happened like this.
I was in a forested area about 60 km north of Paris, just south of Senlis, looking for somewhere to make lunch. It is remarkably hard to find public green space with any kind of water in it (to wash my pot, in this case) in France, so I was looking for a while. Eventually I came across a small creek and decided it was the place. Stopped, locked up Rex, grabbed my stove and some food and trekked it down to the stream. Cooked,, ate, came back to the ultimate nightmare. No bike, no bags, no nothing.
Needless to say I freaked out. Many profanities were screamed to the empty road and the sky. A couple of unhelpful people refused to drive me to the nearby village, so I walked there, a pretty pathetic sight all mopey, trekking up the road with a camelback bladder of water in one hand and a mesh bag with a pot and stove in it in the other. Doing a quick account, I found I was in posesion of nothing but the following items:
My possessions as of present consist of:
one pair of socks
one pair of shoes
one pair of bike shorts
one pair of pants
one wool shirt
one hat
one utility belt
my passport, credit cards, debit card
swiss army knife
lighter
camping stove + fuel bottle
one water bottle
2 liter water bladder
pen
notebook
I literally had the clothes on my back.
Things got a little better at the next village. The people in the town bar felt really bad and called someone who drove me to the police (actually the Gendarmes - local milita who provide police services to the countryside). They took my statement and told me how to find a train to paris, which I did, still dejected. I gave the cops my email and the phone number of Marie, my the lovely and friendly owner of the couch I'd arranged to surf.
Into Paris, where I found an email/phone center, cancelled my travelers checks and got in touch with Mike Kushnir, a vancouver friend living over here. Mike came and met me and took me out for a beer. I got in touch with Marie and - to my serious surprise, found out that the police had called and my bike had turned up with some of my stuff - I could go check it out the next day.
It was a mixed blessing. The theives took my sleeping bag, hammock, tools, food, and some random small stuff. They left me my panniers and clothing, my book of maps (with both sentimental and practical value), thermarest, and ramdom small stuff.
But the bitch is this. Rex is dead.
The bastards ditched him i a field close to where he was jacked from - they had, get this, cut the rear triangle (seat stay and chain stay) in three places to get the lock off. Really now, c'est vraiment stupid - the bike is rendered un-ridable, and thus of any value to them, AND cutting through the bike like that would have taken way more effort than simply stealing the panniers which contained everything that they did decide to take, and probably more effort than just cutting the lock.
I have no idea how I did not hear this happening.
SO.
The situation now is this. I have places to stay in paris as long as I need, and I now need to set about the task of turning up a new frame. All of the other components on the bike are sound, so it will be a matter of sourcing out a frame, and then transferring everything over to the new one. There will probably be some problems dealing with incompatibilities between french and english threaded things (bottom bracket, headset) but the rest should probably go over ok. I kind of doubt I will find a true touring frame used, the right size, and for a decent price so I might have to settle for a road frame (I can at least swap Rex's front fork over to keep the cantilever mounts up front). Some pretty rad friends of mike run a bit of a ghetto bike mechanic opepration and have tools I can use to do some of the work. I've also got to source out a new sleeping bag, some tools, and potentially a tent, though I am considering just getting a tarp and using it to put up some kind of sketchy lean-to to sleep in when I need it - its hot enough over here that a tent is really only for rain protection, not warmth.
The bullshit aside, I'm still having a great time. I've made peace with getting shit done, spending (hey, I'm spending a LOT less than if nothing had turned up - I will be the first to admit I got lucky), and I'm loving paris.
The city is huge and trafic is mental - I've been having a ton of fun riding (borrowed bike) around town. The drivers here are all over the place but by now I'm at a point in my riding where big crazy cities dont scare me one bit, and I am agressive enough to MAKE the space I need on the road (after confirming by eye contact that the driver in question KNOWS I am there). Its a rush, I'll admit. I made it out to the world naked bike ride here, which was a blast - until it got busted up by the police, who arrested 2-5 people and were just about lynched by the bike mob.
There is a butcher (who does deli-ish stuff too) and a baker on virtually every block here and quality, fresh, and cheap-ish food is easy to find (bread price, for example, is controlled by the government). I've never had so much good cheese in my life and I think I am forever spoiled. Eating at home will either never be the same or my cost of living is going to triple. I've yet to really visit a single 'famous monument' but as with most of my trip so far its the living culture that has interested me far more than the dead, and, as with the rest of the trip so far I've somehow stumbled across a good people who are both having fun, making do, and working to make the world better. There is this breed everywhere, it seems, and its truly something inspiring to find. I'm doing my best to spread the vancouver bike love - and the east van flavour too.
This week will consist of getting my shit back together, while trying to be a bit of a tourist, and attempting to spread bike polo to the masses (I think I can get a game going so long as I am able to provide mallets - which means tracking down pvc tubing and ski-poles. Its a legacy I would be overjoyed to leave behind in town).
As before, I miss all you jerks and am homesick everytime I get an email from the velolove or bikepolo mailinglist (god damn you!)
I was in a forested area about 60 km north of Paris, just south of Senlis, looking for somewhere to make lunch. It is remarkably hard to find public green space with any kind of water in it (to wash my pot, in this case) in France, so I was looking for a while. Eventually I came across a small creek and decided it was the place. Stopped, locked up Rex, grabbed my stove and some food and trekked it down to the stream. Cooked,, ate, came back to the ultimate nightmare. No bike, no bags, no nothing.
Needless to say I freaked out. Many profanities were screamed to the empty road and the sky. A couple of unhelpful people refused to drive me to the nearby village, so I walked there, a pretty pathetic sight all mopey, trekking up the road with a camelback bladder of water in one hand and a mesh bag with a pot and stove in it in the other. Doing a quick account, I found I was in posesion of nothing but the following items:
My possessions as of present consist of:
one pair of socks
one pair of shoes
one pair of bike shorts
one pair of pants
one wool shirt
one hat
one utility belt
my passport, credit cards, debit card
swiss army knife
lighter
camping stove + fuel bottle
one water bottle
2 liter water bladder
pen
notebook
I literally had the clothes on my back.
Things got a little better at the next village. The people in the town bar felt really bad and called someone who drove me to the police (actually the Gendarmes - local milita who provide police services to the countryside). They took my statement and told me how to find a train to paris, which I did, still dejected. I gave the cops my email and the phone number of Marie, my the lovely and friendly owner of the couch I'd arranged to surf.
Into Paris, where I found an email/phone center, cancelled my travelers checks and got in touch with Mike Kushnir, a vancouver friend living over here. Mike came and met me and took me out for a beer. I got in touch with Marie and - to my serious surprise, found out that the police had called and my bike had turned up with some of my stuff - I could go check it out the next day.
It was a mixed blessing. The theives took my sleeping bag, hammock, tools, food, and some random small stuff. They left me my panniers and clothing, my book of maps (with both sentimental and practical value), thermarest, and ramdom small stuff.
But the bitch is this. Rex is dead.
The bastards ditched him i a field close to where he was jacked from - they had, get this, cut the rear triangle (seat stay and chain stay) in three places to get the lock off. Really now, c'est vraiment stupid - the bike is rendered un-ridable, and thus of any value to them, AND cutting through the bike like that would have taken way more effort than simply stealing the panniers which contained everything that they did decide to take, and probably more effort than just cutting the lock.
I have no idea how I did not hear this happening.
SO.
The situation now is this. I have places to stay in paris as long as I need, and I now need to set about the task of turning up a new frame. All of the other components on the bike are sound, so it will be a matter of sourcing out a frame, and then transferring everything over to the new one. There will probably be some problems dealing with incompatibilities between french and english threaded things (bottom bracket, headset) but the rest should probably go over ok. I kind of doubt I will find a true touring frame used, the right size, and for a decent price so I might have to settle for a road frame (I can at least swap Rex's front fork over to keep the cantilever mounts up front). Some pretty rad friends of mike run a bit of a ghetto bike mechanic opepration and have tools I can use to do some of the work. I've also got to source out a new sleeping bag, some tools, and potentially a tent, though I am considering just getting a tarp and using it to put up some kind of sketchy lean-to to sleep in when I need it - its hot enough over here that a tent is really only for rain protection, not warmth.
The bullshit aside, I'm still having a great time. I've made peace with getting shit done, spending (hey, I'm spending a LOT less than if nothing had turned up - I will be the first to admit I got lucky), and I'm loving paris.
The city is huge and trafic is mental - I've been having a ton of fun riding (borrowed bike) around town. The drivers here are all over the place but by now I'm at a point in my riding where big crazy cities dont scare me one bit, and I am agressive enough to MAKE the space I need on the road (after confirming by eye contact that the driver in question KNOWS I am there). Its a rush, I'll admit. I made it out to the world naked bike ride here, which was a blast - until it got busted up by the police, who arrested 2-5 people and were just about lynched by the bike mob.
There is a butcher (who does deli-ish stuff too) and a baker on virtually every block here and quality, fresh, and cheap-ish food is easy to find (bread price, for example, is controlled by the government). I've never had so much good cheese in my life and I think I am forever spoiled. Eating at home will either never be the same or my cost of living is going to triple. I've yet to really visit a single 'famous monument' but as with most of my trip so far its the living culture that has interested me far more than the dead, and, as with the rest of the trip so far I've somehow stumbled across a good people who are both having fun, making do, and working to make the world better. There is this breed everywhere, it seems, and its truly something inspiring to find. I'm doing my best to spread the vancouver bike love - and the east van flavour too.
This week will consist of getting my shit back together, while trying to be a bit of a tourist, and attempting to spread bike polo to the masses (I think I can get a game going so long as I am able to provide mallets - which means tracking down pvc tubing and ski-poles. Its a legacy I would be overjoyed to leave behind in town).
As before, I miss all you jerks and am homesick everytime I get an email from the velolove or bikepolo mailinglist (god damn you!)
Wednesday, June 6, 2007
Today
France is amazing.
Virtually as soon as I crossed the border, everything changed. The roads are long, windy, and well marked. Camping here is easy. The countryside is beautiful.
Its misty in the morning and hot and sun-bleached in the afternoon.
I cooked my breakfast at a spring which is the source of a river that flows all the Netherlands (L'Escaut), which was in a quiet glade - it was somewhat mystical.
I had my first 100km day.
I only spent 3 euros today.
Tired but feeling very good.
Virtually as soon as I crossed the border, everything changed. The roads are long, windy, and well marked. Camping here is easy. The countryside is beautiful.
Its misty in the morning and hot and sun-bleached in the afternoon.
I cooked my breakfast at a spring which is the source of a river that flows all the Netherlands (L'Escaut), which was in a quiet glade - it was somewhat mystical.
I had my first 100km day.
I only spent 3 euros today.
Tired but feeling very good.
Tuesday, June 5, 2007
Okay so here is the second leg on Gmaps Its friday evening, a day off in Gent on saturday, sunday's ride to just outside of Luze, qnd then this morning's cross to France. I'm posting right now from Valenciennes; I crossed the border at about 10 this morning after sleeping in a farmer's field (I was still looking for somewhere to crash close to midnight - desperate, exhausted, and having lost and then re-found my camera at a dodgy spot I had considered stealth camping). Yesterday was a day of highs and lows. I had trouble finding my way out of Gent (getting into cities is much harder than getting out - especially when your map is scaled 1:200000), got lost a couple of times, just about lost my camera, didn' make the mileage I wanted, and had trouble finding somewhere to sleep for free. On the other hand, I took a rural route thad had me, for the first time, really working on some climbs and with some exhillarating decents. I've got my packing system worked out efficiently now, and I know I can survive even in a shelter crisis. The weather was nice and I was smiling a lot. So 50/50 I'd say.
Anyhow, let me get back to my belgium story. Last I told you, I had crossed into belgium. I made for Antwerp, and spent several hours there trying to acquire a map of the area and food supplies, then crossed under the river in an awesome pedestrian/bike tunnel that must be a KM long. Was trying to make some serious mileage so I stayed on the smaller highway and pushed it to just outside of a small town called Lokeren, where I spent the night in an unfinished house. Belgium is a wierd country - all of the cities, and even the smaller towns, have really busy central shopping districts full of expensive boutiques and crowds and fashionable people (as opposed to the dutch who, despite their other good traits have little in the way of style -- my apologies to any dutch folk reading this!!) Then, only a few blocks away everything else (houses and shops) is shuttered up, and depressed looking. I'm not sure if it is some kind of economic contrast or that the belgians are just ultra private and like to lock themselves awlay from the world...
The next day I got up early and rocked into Gent. I had been planning on spending the night and had gotten in touch with a local girl, Lore, through couchsurfing and hqd somewhere to stay - it was a good thing, because one of my knees started to hurt really badly almost immediately and a day off the bike was badly needed. Looking for internet, amongst the heavy and overwhelming medieval 'skyscrapers'. Eventually I spotted (as is becomming a technique) an interesting looking person (dreadlocked girl on a bike) and asked if she knew where I could get online - Alla, her name was, rode me to the internet shop, gave me her nu,ber, and told me to stop by for coffee and a joint if I wanted.
It was a good thing I did - good conversation ensued, and, even better she introduced me to her neighbor Stijn who has biked and camped in france. We got along well (he's an environmental policy consultant - I like the ring - and the implications of that) qnd he GAVE me a high quality (Michelen) book of maps of france - the whole country, qnd suggested some routes to me. It was one of those amazing chance encounters.
Eventually I rolled on, explored the city (and its cursed cobbled streets), saw the castle, and swung by Lore's place, just in time to catch her before she headed out to work. She had another surfer staying, Mauro from Italy, and together we went out and tried some belgian beers. The next morning Lore sent me off with orange juice and tasty chocolate Gent wafers.
All in all one of the cooler cities I've been to - very laid back and postive vibe, amazing architecture and old feel (tons of squares to sit in) and hip and hippie kids everywhere (cute girl on bike overload. Seriously higher cute:bike ratio than amsterdam).
So now I have to find one more map (unfortunately the book Stijn gave me is missing like 2 pqges - which happen to cover where I am now), pick up some food supplies, choose the next destination, and hit the road. Sometimes on these midday stops in towns I feel lilke I am an RPG character- roll into town as a stranger, get suplies, potions, dig up nuggets of valuable information. My bike is my horse, and I am a wanderer - its sweet.
Miss you suckers and jealous I'm missing the Bikarnival. Email me with stories of life at home!
Anyhow, let me get back to my belgium story. Last I told you, I had crossed into belgium. I made for Antwerp, and spent several hours there trying to acquire a map of the area and food supplies, then crossed under the river in an awesome pedestrian/bike tunnel that must be a KM long. Was trying to make some serious mileage so I stayed on the smaller highway and pushed it to just outside of a small town called Lokeren, where I spent the night in an unfinished house. Belgium is a wierd country - all of the cities, and even the smaller towns, have really busy central shopping districts full of expensive boutiques and crowds and fashionable people (as opposed to the dutch who, despite their other good traits have little in the way of style -- my apologies to any dutch folk reading this!!) Then, only a few blocks away everything else (houses and shops) is shuttered up, and depressed looking. I'm not sure if it is some kind of economic contrast or that the belgians are just ultra private and like to lock themselves awlay from the world...
The next day I got up early and rocked into Gent. I had been planning on spending the night and had gotten in touch with a local girl, Lore, through couchsurfing and hqd somewhere to stay - it was a good thing, because one of my knees started to hurt really badly almost immediately and a day off the bike was badly needed. Looking for internet, amongst the heavy and overwhelming medieval 'skyscrapers'. Eventually I spotted (as is becomming a technique) an interesting looking person (dreadlocked girl on a bike) and asked if she knew where I could get online - Alla, her name was, rode me to the internet shop, gave me her nu,ber, and told me to stop by for coffee and a joint if I wanted.
It was a good thing I did - good conversation ensued, and, even better she introduced me to her neighbor Stijn who has biked and camped in france. We got along well (he's an environmental policy consultant - I like the ring - and the implications of that) qnd he GAVE me a high quality (Michelen) book of maps of france - the whole country, qnd suggested some routes to me. It was one of those amazing chance encounters.
Eventually I rolled on, explored the city (and its cursed cobbled streets), saw the castle, and swung by Lore's place, just in time to catch her before she headed out to work. She had another surfer staying, Mauro from Italy, and together we went out and tried some belgian beers. The next morning Lore sent me off with orange juice and tasty chocolate Gent wafers.
All in all one of the cooler cities I've been to - very laid back and postive vibe, amazing architecture and old feel (tons of squares to sit in) and hip and hippie kids everywhere (cute girl on bike overload. Seriously higher cute:bike ratio than amsterdam).
So now I have to find one more map (unfortunately the book Stijn gave me is missing like 2 pqges - which happen to cover where I am now), pick up some food supplies, choose the next destination, and hit the road. Sometimes on these midday stops in towns I feel lilke I am an RPG character- roll into town as a stranger, get suplies, potions, dig up nuggets of valuable information. My bike is my horse, and I am a wanderer - its sweet.
Miss you suckers and jealous I'm missing the Bikarnival. Email me with stories of life at home!
Sunday, June 3, 2007
Pictures!
Ok, managed to find somewhere to sneak a few pictures online - this is just a few teasers I guess. More will probably have to wait until Paris...
check it out on my flickr page:http://www.flickr.com/photos/midnightsimon/
check it out on my flickr page:http://www.flickr.com/photos/midnightsimon/
The road so far...
I'm in an internet/phone center in Gent, Belgium right now, its sunny and early, and already I've ridden past three medieval churches and one medieval castle (complete with moat).
I had intended to make this a long post chronicling my three days on the road, but these wierd belgian keyboards have a bunch of letters in the wrong place, so its slow going (if you spot misplaced 'a' 'w' 'z' 'q' ',' or 'm's, now you know why).
I left Amsterdam late- as is befitting a Vancouverite, and had a hell of a time getting onto the 'Landen Fietsroute' - the special marked network of paths that make a bike route from (in my case, though I believe there are up to two dozen nationally) Amsterdam to Rotterdam. Finding the fietsroute, to get on it, was one thing - staying on it was another. Let me warn you right now, beware these routes! You are so busy looking for the next sign to let you know ARE paying attention, some major intersections are mysteriously unmarked. To make things worse, my (specifically reccomended) map, showing the fietsroutes, was only available in the next-to-useless scale of 1:300000. Day one I managed about 70 km I believe (.. starting to seriously think about investing in a bike computer).
Rotterdam. Very differet from Amsterdam. You can feel it immediately, everything is spread out wider, there are more green spaces, the pace is more laid back, and modern archicecture is dominant (thanks to the near complete destruction of the city by bombing in WWII.
I rolled in at about 7 pm (after scoping out a 'you definitely should not camp here' euro nature park for potential places to sneakily camp), and fell right into Groen Voltage - another squatter meetingplace. Sone (sp?), behind the bar saw me outside looking confused, came outside, and asked me if I needed anything - Internet, he told me, was inside and free - qnd wouldnt you know it, they were starting a Voku in about 10 minutes. Cheap food and beer, good conversation - and, it quickly turned out, a place to stay (much thanks to Carly for offering up a spare bed at her place) - luck was with me again. One of the other kids at dinner also tipped me off to the local choppermakers who, after some confusion I found the following day (photos to come whenever the photos end up coming. Sorry guys - its bugging me too, though its probably helping me stop using photos as a blogging crutch). Joris, who's shop it was was a little apprehensive at first, but (as apparently with most dutch people) opened up somewhat after I forced my personality on him. It probably helped that I had a polo mallet on my bike (what the hell is that? - bike polo! here's some websites you should check out) and that told him a little about my trip and the bike folks at home. He told me about the FBI bike festival in Amsterdam in July (DAMN), and showed me two bikes he was bringing - the coolest custom chopper I've yet seen, and a stretch mini he was building for a Mini bike race(!!) at the FBI - get this - frame height restrictions, crank length restrictions, and ,ax 12 inch wheels. intense. I told him about the 'alley kitten' races at home, thanked him, and hit the road.
My detour to joris' shop cost me some time, and it was almost 2:30 when I hit the road. Some nice countryside and a couple of ferry rides were the days highlights - spots of heavy rain, and a long detour/ lost spell (as a result of the bloody fietsroutes) were the lowlights. I had aimed to make Antwerp that night - even had somewhere to stay set up courtesy of couchsurfing.com - but ended up frustrated at my low mileage and cruising the rural byways just outside of Roosendal at dusk looking for stealth camp locations. Stands of trees dense enough to obscure me and my bike, that are also accessible by road are harder than expected to come by. I eventually found a piece of neglected/ for sale property right next to the rail line in which I could hide out and set up camp. My sleep was punctuated by loud trains and dreams of tornadoes.
I took the previous day's lesson to heart and got an early start the following morning. Ditched the fietsroutes and road in the bike lane on the highway. And then, before I even knew what had happened to me I was in Belgium. In my peripheral vision I see a blue squqre with a ring of stars, 'Belgie' printed underneath. The licenseplqtes now all have little Bs on them, insteqd of NLs. Europe. No 'Borders.' I don't think I'd seriously considered that until I saw it in practice.
Anyway, looks lke my internet time is up, so I will have to finish this story later. Medieval Gent awaits!
I had intended to make this a long post chronicling my three days on the road, but these wierd belgian keyboards have a bunch of letters in the wrong place, so its slow going (if you spot misplaced 'a' 'w' 'z' 'q' ',' or 'm's, now you know why).
I left Amsterdam late- as is befitting a Vancouverite, and had a hell of a time getting onto the 'Landen Fietsroute' - the special marked network of paths that make a bike route from (in my case, though I believe there are up to two dozen nationally) Amsterdam to Rotterdam. Finding the fietsroute, to get on it, was one thing - staying on it was another. Let me warn you right now, beware these routes! You are so busy looking for the next sign to let you know ARE paying attention, some major intersections are mysteriously unmarked. To make things worse, my (specifically reccomended) map, showing the fietsroutes, was only available in the next-to-useless scale of 1:300000. Day one I managed about 70 km I believe (.. starting to seriously think about investing in a bike computer).
Rotterdam. Very differet from Amsterdam. You can feel it immediately, everything is spread out wider, there are more green spaces, the pace is more laid back, and modern archicecture is dominant (thanks to the near complete destruction of the city by bombing in WWII.
I rolled in at about 7 pm (after scoping out a 'you definitely should not camp here' euro nature park for potential places to sneakily camp), and fell right into Groen Voltage - another squatter meetingplace. Sone (sp?), behind the bar saw me outside looking confused, came outside, and asked me if I needed anything - Internet, he told me, was inside and free - qnd wouldnt you know it, they were starting a Voku in about 10 minutes. Cheap food and beer, good conversation - and, it quickly turned out, a place to stay (much thanks to Carly for offering up a spare bed at her place) - luck was with me again. One of the other kids at dinner also tipped me off to the local choppermakers who, after some confusion I found the following day (photos to come whenever the photos end up coming. Sorry guys - its bugging me too, though its probably helping me stop using photos as a blogging crutch). Joris, who's shop it was was a little apprehensive at first, but (as apparently with most dutch people) opened up somewhat after I forced my personality on him. It probably helped that I had a polo mallet on my bike (what the hell is that? - bike polo! here's some websites you should check out) and that told him a little about my trip and the bike folks at home. He told me about the FBI bike festival in Amsterdam in July (DAMN), and showed me two bikes he was bringing - the coolest custom chopper I've yet seen, and a stretch mini he was building for a Mini bike race(!!) at the FBI - get this - frame height restrictions, crank length restrictions, and ,ax 12 inch wheels. intense. I told him about the 'alley kitten' races at home, thanked him, and hit the road.
My detour to joris' shop cost me some time, and it was almost 2:30 when I hit the road. Some nice countryside and a couple of ferry rides were the days highlights - spots of heavy rain, and a long detour/ lost spell (as a result of the bloody fietsroutes) were the lowlights. I had aimed to make Antwerp that night - even had somewhere to stay set up courtesy of couchsurfing.com - but ended up frustrated at my low mileage and cruising the rural byways just outside of Roosendal at dusk looking for stealth camp locations. Stands of trees dense enough to obscure me and my bike, that are also accessible by road are harder than expected to come by. I eventually found a piece of neglected/ for sale property right next to the rail line in which I could hide out and set up camp. My sleep was punctuated by loud trains and dreams of tornadoes.
I took the previous day's lesson to heart and got an early start the following morning. Ditched the fietsroutes and road in the bike lane on the highway. And then, before I even knew what had happened to me I was in Belgium. In my peripheral vision I see a blue squqre with a ring of stars, 'Belgie' printed underneath. The licenseplqtes now all have little Bs on them, insteqd of NLs. Europe. No 'Borders.' I don't think I'd seriously considered that until I saw it in practice.
Anyway, looks lke my internet time is up, so I will have to finish this story later. Medieval Gent awaits!
Saturday, June 2, 2007
Gmappin'
This was Tim's idea, but it's a good one, so i'm going to steal it.
Gmapped route so far - thats just under 3 days riding (gonna put in a few more K today). its a rough map, but I'll get it precise when I'm less tired.
http://www.gmap-pedometer.com/?r=1010420
I miss you jerks!
Gmapped route so far - thats just under 3 days riding (gonna put in a few more K today). its a rough map, but I'll get it precise when I'm less tired.
http://www.gmap-pedometer.com/?r=1010420
I miss you jerks!
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