Free Style Walking
There is a stretch of desert in northern peru that is around 150 miles long with not much is between. Between fighting the wind and sucking down water, I ran around the desert like a loonatic.
Tuesday, November 28, 2006
There is a stretch of desert in northern peru that is around 150 miles long with not much is between. Between fighting the wind and sucking down water, I ran around the desert like a loonatic.
Thursday, November 23, 2006
There is no need to explain any of the photos eccept the white dog.
So I was making breakfast one morning and took my eyes off of my highly awaited nutella sandwich. When I returned with my mind set hazelnut goodness.....it was gone. All that was left was a sketchy looking white dog with remanence on its lips. So I ate its dog food.
The general consensous is that the world is insecure, and in turn makes the world insecure
Equador
The stay in Quito, the capital of Equador was short lived, but very sweet. Matze and I met up with Jon a friend of Matzes from Germany. Since the rainy season was upon us we collected that it was in our best interest to head towards the coastal flats. By doing this we tried to avoid a potentially strenuois beginning to Jons trip through Equador and avoid the central range of the country. In turn it deterred me to a climate that more suits mosquitos, and the rancid decay of road kill. As most that have kept in tune to my trip can tell, I hate the heat unless it’s agua thermals en la montanas.
We took a rest midday at the equator memorial and watched in astonishment while water traveled counter clockwise down the drain in the northern hemisphere, and clockwise in the southern hemisphere, and while being directly on the equator the water dropped directly through the drain. I almost booked a flight home after seeing this scientific marvel.
A few days after departing Quito traveled 15 kilometers down the wrong road, it would have been further if we had’nt been stopped at a police checkpoint. They pointed us in the right direction after informing us that just a few more kilometers was a dangerous area and we would have been pillaged. We camped this night on a concrete slab next to a small liquor store. At 4 in the morning I was woken by a drunk shouting “Gire una cierta musica, musica es felicidad”, which meant “turn on some music, music makes people happy”. At first it was a little humorous, as drunks can be obnoxious the situation turned to shit. He made me very hostile and at one point imagined the windup and the connect. It did’nt stop for 2 hours, he even tried to bye a t-shirt because he thought that all the cycling cloths airing out where for sale. While I turned down the offer I started to heat up water for oatmeal. The oatmeal decided that it didnt want to stay dorment in my stomach and abruptly projected, 70 percent from my mouth and 30 from my nose. I was sick. 30 minutes later I had pain that I identified as was the worst pain of my life. It was the worst wrenching feeling coming from my stomach. I layed on the concrete kicking and screaming like a tot that was declined a snack pack.
I lay in the same spot till noon, wining and wishing home was a little closer. I set off and made 70 miles with my head down, my mind on a shower, and a good dose of antibiotics.
The stay in Quito, the capital of Equador was short lived, but very sweet. Matze and I met up with Jon a friend of Matzes from Germany. Since the rainy season was upon us we collected that it was in our best interest to head towards the coastal flats. By doing this we tried to avoid a potentially strenuois beginning to Jons trip through Equador and avoid the central range of the country. In turn it deterred me to a climate that more suits mosquitos, and the rancid decay of road kill. As most that have kept in tune to my trip can tell, I hate the heat unless it’s agua thermals en la montanas.
We took a rest midday at the equator memorial and watched in astonishment while water traveled counter clockwise down the drain in the northern hemisphere, and clockwise in the southern hemisphere, and while being directly on the equator the water dropped directly through the drain. I almost booked a flight home after seeing this scientific marvel.
A few days after departing Quito traveled 15 kilometers down the wrong road, it would have been further if we had’nt been stopped at a police checkpoint. They pointed us in the right direction after informing us that just a few more kilometers was a dangerous area and we would have been pillaged. We camped this night on a concrete slab next to a small liquor store. At 4 in the morning I was woken by a drunk shouting “Gire una cierta musica, musica es felicidad”, which meant “turn on some music, music makes people happy”. At first it was a little humorous, as drunks can be obnoxious the situation turned to shit. He made me very hostile and at one point imagined the windup and the connect. It did’nt stop for 2 hours, he even tried to bye a t-shirt because he thought that all the cycling cloths airing out where for sale. While I turned down the offer I started to heat up water for oatmeal. The oatmeal decided that it didnt want to stay dorment in my stomach and abruptly projected, 70 percent from my mouth and 30 from my nose. I was sick. 30 minutes later I had pain that I identified as was the worst pain of my life. It was the worst wrenching feeling coming from my stomach. I layed on the concrete kicking and screaming like a tot that was declined a snack pack.
I lay in the same spot till noon, wining and wishing home was a little closer. I set off and made 70 miles with my head down, my mind on a shower, and a good dose of antibiotics.
The thought of pain is worse than pain itself
Columbia
Before I traveled through Columbia I was told be many people how dangerous it was. Some for good reasons, and some because they had heard from a friend who heard from a freind. I had little idea what to expect since the opinions varied so much. On the US Embassy's Web site it says Columbia is extremely dangerous and should be avoided. And in 2002, Columbia took a place in the Guiness Book for taking the most hostages in one year. Although every person I had met in Central America had told me how incredible it was.
I have no doubt Columbia was a really crazy place at one time but in recent years the government of Columbia has finally stepped in and put pressure on the guerrilla activity. It was the safest-feeling country I had honestly been in (in Central and South America). Every 20 miles had a military check point and many people would stop us and feed us and ask about our travels. There was absolutely no problem finding a place to stay for free everynight, and sometimes would be asked 4-5 times a day if we need a place to rest for the night. I think the reason for the country of Columbia being so personal was that they haven't been tainted by the tourist BS. Many countries I have been in have made me feel like a wallet. In other countries people see a tourist and see money instead of, perhaps, seeing a person. In my opinion, now is the best time to travel to the country of Columbia since it's much safer than in recent years and it feels much more real that what is to come of it in years to come.
After being in the heat for the last 3 months it was a good change to be high in the mountains of Columbia. I now realize why Columbia's cyclists are so damn good in the mountains. While in the south portion of the country, I had one of the hardest physical days of my life and also the most beautiful day. The climb was so rugged this day that after planning on 130 kilometers we only could do 70. The mountain started its ascent at 800 meters and climbed to 4,300 meters, around 10,000 feet of vertical accent.
Prior to entering the country, I told my mother I wouldn't camp while between the boarders, but unfortunatly one night in southern Columbia we camped in the bushes on the side of the road since the next town was still another 40 miles. We got rained on all night and the ground we lay on turned to mud after a few minutes of downpour. The next day we spoke with a man at a bakery who told us the area where we had camped has the highest guerrilla activity in the entire country. What you don't know doesn't hurt, I guess.
Matze and I spent a day in Quito to rest and to meet up with a freind of Matze's. And I was able to meet up with my friend Elliot for only a couple hours but it was great to see him.
We decided the best route through the county of Equador would be the low route since Matze's freind, Jon, who will be riding with us till Lima, is new to the bike touring fiasco. So after Quito we headed out of the mountains into the coastal flats and back into the heat. It enabled us to make some good time through the country but gave me a bad idea of Ecuador. I think I am just partial to the mountains.
Before I traveled through Columbia I was told be many people how dangerous it was. Some for good reasons, and some because they had heard from a friend who heard from a freind. I had little idea what to expect since the opinions varied so much. On the US Embassy's Web site it says Columbia is extremely dangerous and should be avoided. And in 2002, Columbia took a place in the Guiness Book for taking the most hostages in one year. Although every person I had met in Central America had told me how incredible it was.
I have no doubt Columbia was a really crazy place at one time but in recent years the government of Columbia has finally stepped in and put pressure on the guerrilla activity. It was the safest-feeling country I had honestly been in (in Central and South America). Every 20 miles had a military check point and many people would stop us and feed us and ask about our travels. There was absolutely no problem finding a place to stay for free everynight, and sometimes would be asked 4-5 times a day if we need a place to rest for the night. I think the reason for the country of Columbia being so personal was that they haven't been tainted by the tourist BS. Many countries I have been in have made me feel like a wallet. In other countries people see a tourist and see money instead of, perhaps, seeing a person. In my opinion, now is the best time to travel to the country of Columbia since it's much safer than in recent years and it feels much more real that what is to come of it in years to come.
After being in the heat for the last 3 months it was a good change to be high in the mountains of Columbia. I now realize why Columbia's cyclists are so damn good in the mountains. While in the south portion of the country, I had one of the hardest physical days of my life and also the most beautiful day. The climb was so rugged this day that after planning on 130 kilometers we only could do 70. The mountain started its ascent at 800 meters and climbed to 4,300 meters, around 10,000 feet of vertical accent.
Prior to entering the country, I told my mother I wouldn't camp while between the boarders, but unfortunatly one night in southern Columbia we camped in the bushes on the side of the road since the next town was still another 40 miles. We got rained on all night and the ground we lay on turned to mud after a few minutes of downpour. The next day we spoke with a man at a bakery who told us the area where we had camped has the highest guerrilla activity in the entire country. What you don't know doesn't hurt, I guess.
Matze and I spent a day in Quito to rest and to meet up with a freind of Matze's. And I was able to meet up with my friend Elliot for only a couple hours but it was great to see him.
We decided the best route through the county of Equador would be the low route since Matze's freind, Jon, who will be riding with us till Lima, is new to the bike touring fiasco. So after Quito we headed out of the mountains into the coastal flats and back into the heat. It enabled us to make some good time through the country but gave me a bad idea of Ecuador. I think I am just partial to the mountains.
Wednesday, November 22, 2006
Saturday, November 18, 2006
Community amongst the San Blas Islands
Its hard not to get caught up in the seemingly rock-star life that is given when you take a sailboat, lots of rum, some good people, and the pristine atmosphere that the San Blas Islands present. We sailed 3 days into the chain of 350 islands before having to stock up on some provisions. The boat needed some diesel fuel and the crew needed more food to get through the 2 days at sea that was facing the Sea Adler. Our captain Guido radioed into the nearest port to have our supplies boated out to us. When the supplies came they where only partial to what we needed and a full day late. In frustration Guido pulled up anchor and drove the boat to a small island community amongst the San Blas. The island was scarcely larger then 2 football fields and had all a community would need. As we set foot on the dock of the island it actually felt like we were in a far off land. The kids ran up to us as they where equally intrigued at the foreigners. I felt very lucky to see this island since it had’nt been tainted by the tourism industry. The kids wanted attention instead of money and the people as a whole seemed to be more personal instead of trying diligently to sell some meaningless trinkets. I stayed occupied with the kids, giving them piggyback rides and trying to move while 10 kids attached themselves to my limbs. This place was as close to an ideal cultural experience as ever. It was good to see people living like a community and working together on an island so secluded. In a lot of aspects the village was sheltered from the outside world and it was beautiful.
There is a book amongst travelers called the lovely planet. This book is a tourist guide constructed collectively to make peoples journeys, vacations, spiritual awakenings as foreseen as possible. It makes traveling a little more scheduled and perhaps comfortable for those who need a plan. As my words sound like they are not into the idea, its because I am against the thought of a planned journey. Sure I am in the process of traveling from point A to point B, but the contents of my trip are as sporadic as possible. I feel that there is more to learn in a journey that is more oblivious and has less expectations. Not trying to belittle anyones means of travel as I am not saying that I have the art of traveling figured out. There are times when a trip has a time limit and has a expectations and this is when the lonely planet is an asset. As for this little island community being in the lonely planet, it still has its simplicity and not yet scorned.
Its hard not to get caught up in the seemingly rock-star life that is given when you take a sailboat, lots of rum, some good people, and the pristine atmosphere that the San Blas Islands present. We sailed 3 days into the chain of 350 islands before having to stock up on some provisions. The boat needed some diesel fuel and the crew needed more food to get through the 2 days at sea that was facing the Sea Adler. Our captain Guido radioed into the nearest port to have our supplies boated out to us. When the supplies came they where only partial to what we needed and a full day late. In frustration Guido pulled up anchor and drove the boat to a small island community amongst the San Blas. The island was scarcely larger then 2 football fields and had all a community would need. As we set foot on the dock of the island it actually felt like we were in a far off land. The kids ran up to us as they where equally intrigued at the foreigners. I felt very lucky to see this island since it had’nt been tainted by the tourism industry. The kids wanted attention instead of money and the people as a whole seemed to be more personal instead of trying diligently to sell some meaningless trinkets. I stayed occupied with the kids, giving them piggyback rides and trying to move while 10 kids attached themselves to my limbs. This place was as close to an ideal cultural experience as ever. It was good to see people living like a community and working together on an island so secluded. In a lot of aspects the village was sheltered from the outside world and it was beautiful.
There is a book amongst travelers called the lovely planet. This book is a tourist guide constructed collectively to make peoples journeys, vacations, spiritual awakenings as foreseen as possible. It makes traveling a little more scheduled and perhaps comfortable for those who need a plan. As my words sound like they are not into the idea, its because I am against the thought of a planned journey. Sure I am in the process of traveling from point A to point B, but the contents of my trip are as sporadic as possible. I feel that there is more to learn in a journey that is more oblivious and has less expectations. Not trying to belittle anyones means of travel as I am not saying that I have the art of traveling figured out. There are times when a trip has a time limit and has a expectations and this is when the lonely planet is an asset. As for this little island community being in the lonely planet, it still has its simplicity and not yet scorned.
Tuesday, November 14, 2006
Its been a while since I have put time into the Web site since my vacation from my vacation ran a little long. Now that I have a camera and am back on the road I guess it's on.
After waiting for a few days in Panama City for Matze we finished off the country and loaded the bike onto a sail boat headed to Columbia. The boat ride was such a treat, and completely unexpected. We sailed through the San Blas Islands, made fires on the beach and enjoyed the company of my fellow crew. The trip to Columbia lasted 6 days, 3 of which were spent in the islands.
We hit land in Cartegena, Columbia on the 8th. With a deep history in pirate battles Cartegena has such increadible architecture. An old brick wall surrounds the old part of town and close by is a pyramid-looking fort used by the spanish.
As a last hoorah with the sail boat crew, I went out to the clubs in Cartegena and experienced one of the weirdest nights. It consisted of wondering around with 9 other touristy-looking shmucks(hehe)in a new city and a new country till 4 in the morning, sampling vendor food and watching skinny kids twirl fire while on some sort of mind-altering drug. It was fun while it lasted.
The next morning Matze and I cruised around the city for a few hours just to get a better feel for it before getting lost on the way out of town.
The road south has been very flat but everyone is telling us the road climbs 11,000 feet within 80 miles just north of Madellin. Last night we spent the night at a police station. Jaime, the man in command gave us a 2-hour breifing on the areas to keep our eyes open for the guerrillas, and in the moring road his bike with us for 20 kms. The people in Columbia have been the nicest by far than any other country. Everyone tells us we have nothing to worry about.
Hope all is well
Quinn-
After waiting for a few days in Panama City for Matze we finished off the country and loaded the bike onto a sail boat headed to Columbia. The boat ride was such a treat, and completely unexpected. We sailed through the San Blas Islands, made fires on the beach and enjoyed the company of my fellow crew. The trip to Columbia lasted 6 days, 3 of which were spent in the islands.
We hit land in Cartegena, Columbia on the 8th. With a deep history in pirate battles Cartegena has such increadible architecture. An old brick wall surrounds the old part of town and close by is a pyramid-looking fort used by the spanish.
As a last hoorah with the sail boat crew, I went out to the clubs in Cartegena and experienced one of the weirdest nights. It consisted of wondering around with 9 other touristy-looking shmucks(hehe)in a new city and a new country till 4 in the morning, sampling vendor food and watching skinny kids twirl fire while on some sort of mind-altering drug. It was fun while it lasted.
The next morning Matze and I cruised around the city for a few hours just to get a better feel for it before getting lost on the way out of town.
The road south has been very flat but everyone is telling us the road climbs 11,000 feet within 80 miles just north of Madellin. Last night we spent the night at a police station. Jaime, the man in command gave us a 2-hour breifing on the areas to keep our eyes open for the guerrillas, and in the moring road his bike with us for 20 kms. The people in Columbia have been the nicest by far than any other country. Everyone tells us we have nothing to worry about.
Hope all is well
Quinn-
