Cycletour Archives - Pierre Trowbridge

An LP Afternoon

September 17, 2017 by Pierre 7 Comments

An LP Afternoon

(Note: LP means Luang Prabang. The biggest and most popular city in northern Laos.)

The air is molten when the sun shines. The breath you take is hot in your throat, and the thought of movement brings sweat to your brow. Clouds are all around, threatening the forever blue of the afternoon paradise sky. There is no wind here. The air is quieter than a held breath.

And a rooster crows.

I got a shave earlier and rode into town on my bike in search of a tire. I bought one straight from the rim of a rental bike. It isn’t perfect but it will do the job. I know I overpaid but the alternatives were to have no tire at all and have to boat and bus it for the last days of my vacation, or use a skinny little racing tire to try and get me back to Chiang Mai and risk being stuck in the middle of nowhere where the only available rubber might be that drained slowly from the body of a tree.

Cicadas in the trees sing their endless song: a melody that provides the backdrop to every “we’re in the jungle,” movie that has ever been shown. This is not a stereotype. This is who they are. They are the omnipresent voice of the jungle. Except under the weight of rain. When the rain falls hard they withdraw waiting into some dry hidden vale. When the showers end they sing, and the brighter the sky the louder they sing until under the blinding heat of inferno they scream to the heavens as if they were the unrepentant whose flesh was being seared from their very bones. The hum drops to a sustainable buzz when the fire relents.

And a rooster crows.

Over here a bird is chirping. Its call is the chirrup of sharply fired missiles. Another responds in the staccato of medium range weaponry: a retort slightly higher in pitch, and lesser in power. The play goes back and forth harmlessly like the bang, bang, bang of children shooting from their pointed fingers. Cops and robbers. The good guys and the bad guys. The light and the dark locked in endless battle for a supremacy that doesn’t exist.

The next sound is a plane flying in out of the southwest, it’s engines a descending scream. You focus on the sound and with no conscious effort your breath has fallen in time with it and you exhale slowly trying to match the remaining volume of your breath to the life remaining in the sound of the airplane. You follow the sound to the northeast as it drops from a high pitch to a rumble. The rumble becomes a low drone and then fades farther and farther away until you are sure it must have disappeared by now but somehow you can still hear it and could go on hearing it forever if only you could let out your breath that long.

And a rooster crows.

Even the deadest air must breathe occasionally to continue its claim to existence. A breeze moves through that disturbs the leaves on the trees and the dry grass upon the walkway, sending them shuffling in a hiss like a thousand straw skirts.

And somewhere in the distance a rooster crows.

Farewell Summer Ride. Thanks for Coming

September 17, 2017 by Pierre 8 Comments

I’ve been putting this off. To write this would be to acknowledge that my summer ride is over and I didn’t want to do that. But the reality is what it is. I have been back to work in China for a week and am tepidly sticking my nose back to the grind stone of developing and delivering lesson plans. Gradually easing back into daily routines. Nah. That’s a pile of B.S. I am readjusting to civilian life like a brick adjusts to flight.

Making the Best of It

My trip to Thailand and Laos was not the trip I originally planned or wanted but it really turned into the trip I needed. The restful atmosphere of these beautiful countries was a tonic that I wasn’t aware I needed. As the trip progressed I found myself ever more removed from the hustle and bustle of cities and people hurrying everywhere. It was then that all the tension that had built up in my mind and muscles started to be released. Trains of thought drifted away from the busy life and focused solely on the quiet and solitude of riding. And what a ride it turned out to be.

Thailand

The first ride was into the juggernaut of fiercely steep hills southwest of Chiang Mai in Doi Ithanon National Park and the Thai-Myanmar border region. It was the most physically demanding ride of my life and in the end more than I bargained for or was prepared for. After 5 days of brutal riding I took the first escape that came available and returned to Chiang Mai to reset.

Some may see this as a failure but I don’t see it that way. How can I? After all, I met so many amazing people and made new friends while I was on this route. People like Naa that opened his home to me and shared his food and whiskey, or Li No who gave me a ride in his truck to avoid several kilometers of difficult hills, or the charming young Chinese lady Yuan that I met at my bungalow in Doi Ithanon. And of course, Boat and his father Ban from Bangkok who offered me the ride that got me out the hilly morass in which I had become so hopelessly entangled. If meeting all those great people doesn’t make for a successful journey then I have never taken one.

Rest and Reset

From the reset in Chiang Mai it was a race to the Laos border. I covered the 290 kilometers in 3 days of riding. Along the way there was a multi day stop in Chiang Rai where I spent a day on a great tour during which I saw beautiful temples, unique cultures, and gorgeous scenery and a couple of days where most of my time was spent with a book in hand or the computer keyboard clicking under my fingertips. After a day’s ride from Chiang Rai I reached Laos. This is when the trip became about the ride and the dreaming began in earnest.

Laos

Laos is separated from Thailand by the Mekong River. The river is only about 75 meters from shore to shore where the Friendship Bridge spans it, but when you pass through the Laos border control and enter Huay Xai it feels worlds apart.

Life in Laos is so laid back compared even to still developing Thailand that you may find yourself wondering if time has forgotten about it. This apparent dispensation is reinforced by rudimentary houses with glassless windows and the torrents of joyful squeals and screams of naked brown bummed wildlings splashing in seemingly every irrigation ditch, stream, and clear watered rice paddy in the countryside.

Cycling in this beautiful country is primarily a combination of long climbs and sweeping descents. The scenery is continuously fabulous. At times in lower altitudes you may find the photographer in you a little frustrated as the roadside grasses and trees grow so tall that they obscure much of the scenery. You can see enough to know it’s beautiful but so much of it is blocked by the growth that it isn’t possible to get a decent picture. In one sense, this may be a blessing. If it weren’t for this the photographer may be tempted to stop so often that little or no progress would be made.

Wow Just Doesn’t Cut It

The scenery in Laos is so beautiful that it doesn’t take long to run out of interjections. I quickly got tired of hearing myself repeat words like wow, oh my, really, holy shit. After a while I just began laughing. It was the same kind of laughter that a person has when they don’t know how to respond to a situation. Like when I heard that my grandfather Ryan had died. He was the first person in my life that I was real close to that died, and when I heard the news I laughed. It wasn’t voluntary. I didn’t know how else to take it. I was overwhelmed by the moment. Such was riding in Laos. A series of moments of being overwhelmed. What an incredible experience.

From sitting in a hammock on the back deck of my bamboo hut in Vieng Phou Kha and watching kids float by on inner tubes, to trudging through knee deep mud and wading through thigh deep streams on an almost road while following the Mekong out from Luang Prabang, to the lady who washed my shoes, riding in Laos was fabulous. It was a trip full of smiling faces, generous hands, opium grannies, delicious food, and countless priceless memories.

Thank You and Ride On

Just like last summer when I rode through the desert in northern China it was made that much better because you were there with me. I always feel so blessed to have so many of you take an interest in my travels. It really does make it more special because I know that I get to share these amazing experiences with my family and friends. So, from the bottom of my heart I say thank you to all of you for helping to make my incredible summer vacation even more so.

Until next time.

Ascent: An Ill Fated Journey Into the Hills of Northwest Thailand

August 4, 2017 by Pierre 8 Comments

I should have known the jig was up when the lady started laughing at me. It was early morning and I was just beginning the ascent of a challenging but manageable hill. She looked almost mad with her hair splayed off in all directions, her blackened teeth bared, and her eyes wild as hells flames. She briefly spoke at me in Thai, and then burst into the cackling laugh of some one mad. Without understanding what she said I somehow sensed that it was my path that she was laughing at. I thought her crazed and wished her an early sleep to rest her feeble mind. It turned out that she was the only sane one of the two of us.

Rise

The trip began 4 days earlier in Chiang Mai. The plan was to ride to Doi Ithanon National Park and then beyond the park to Mae Hong Son and Pai and then back to Chiang Mai before heading north to Chiang Rai and beyond.

Thailand Bike Trip — This lady sells tea and coffee on the road to Mae Chaem. I had a lovely mint tea.

The first 2 days of riding ranged between the pedestrian and ascents the likes of which cycling nightmares are made of. I rode through saccharin sweet countryside with ladies selling pineapple and noodle soup and disconsolate lands as unforgiving as the forces which cast them so. I sweat and I swore, rejoiced and cried, hated and loved. But holding tight to the hope and belief that things would get better, I kept going.

Eventually, and with the help of a new friend, Li No, who carried me in his pickup through 5 kilometers of some of the most difficult ascents the trail had to offer, I made it to the heart of Doi Ithanon Park.

I rested here 1 day and 2 nights before I headed off to the west. The road to Mae Chaem was a panoply of twists and turns and dark shadows upon a road oft veiled in mists. It was an orgasm of rapid downhills. Pleasure in rushes. Pedals went unturned for ages and lungs that were so starved in previous days fed at the trough of plenty. 30 kilometers were put under heel by lunch time. The day ended in Mae Na Chon. And there my ultimate demise began.

Fall

On the morning in question, not long after my encounter with the crazy lady, I came to the first big ascent of the day. I wasn’t far into the climb when the walking began. Those hills are just too steep. It is a land not fit for a bicycle. In the end, it turns out that very few people cycle here. People don’t even like riding here on small motorbikes if it can be avoided. I saw more than one in low gear labouring up hills like a weary, over burdened voyageur, or overworked and ill kept work camp nag on it’s last proverbial legs. I guess I shouldn’t feel bad that I had to walk them. And I don’t.

It soon became apparent that there was to be no enjoyment on this route. Immediately after one precipitous ascent and speedy descent it was back up another spirit breaking hill. There was no break in between. There was nowhere to ride. It was either pushing the bike up the hill in sweltering high 30’s heat or careening down the backside of it. Usually I love a good downhill. It offers a respite from climbing. It also offers a chance for a good breeze to cool you down. But in this environment, I learned to fear and hate the downhills because I knew that I was going to have to go back up right away. There was no real respite. There was no joy. It was just hard work and misery. I love a good challenge but it’s still a vacation. I want to enjoy it, too.

Early afternoon I was offered a ride by Singh who took me down the road as far as he was going. I stopped in the town just a kilometer up the road and ate. Then it was back to the sickening task of endless ascent and descent.

A little after mid afternoon I was offered another ride. This time it was by Boat and Ban, a young Thai man and his father from Bangkok. Initially I was confused by their route. They came from behind me when they stopped and offered me a ride, but they were talking about being on their way to Chiang Mai. To me they were really going the long way to go to Chiang Mai when they were just coming from a place that was a lot nearer to Chiang Mai than the way they were now going.

After we talked a little while they told me that the route I was taking was only going to get worse ahead and not better. It was then that I decided I wanted out. And it was then that I realized that they had already been where I was heading and that they had been going the shortest most direct route to Chiang Mai. They had turned around and were going the opposite direction of their plan to help me! I was astounded and deeply touched by this incredibly generous act. Once I realized that their plan was to first help me and then to go directly to Chiang Mai and not the multi day route that I thought they were going, I very quickly and humbly asked if I could ride to Chiang Mai with them. Without hesitation, they said yes and we turned around and made haste for the city. I don’t know the last time I felt so relieved.

Rise

So, we headed to Chiang Mai. I had never been so happy to be off a bike in my life. As I said, I like a challenge but it must be reasonable and there must be some chance of enjoyment. This route completely lacked that balance and so escape became necessary.

So, I got my ass kicked by a bike route. That sort of thing is bound to happen when you continuously head off in whatever direction appeals to you. And while it was a humbling experience I can also take a little pride in that I made is as far as I did in what most local people tell me is impossible on a bike. I guess that explains why I was getting so many thumbs up while I was there.

In the end, I have no regrets. I got to see some beautiful countryside, ate some fantastic food, and made some great new friends. That reward alone makes the journey worth while. But I also learned some lessons. I learned that it is possible to stop without losing when there is really no way to win in the first place. And most importantly I learned that if you ever encounter a crazed looking lady that yells and laughs at you then you might want to take moment to reconsider what you are about to do. I wish I had. It may have been my ascent into wisdom.

Xinjiang Cycle Tour: VeloTramp Summer 2017

June 14, 2017 by Pierre 9 Comments

The worst thing you can do to a person who struggles to make decisions is give them a lot to choose from. I know. I am that person. The problem is especially trying for me when I like all the things I am trying to choose from. This is the predicament I found myself in when trying to choose the route of my summer bike trip.

Xinjiang — Kashgar Grand Bazaar (Photo courtesy of Far West China)

Where to Choose, Where to Choose

There were so many amazing options to choose from that I struggled to make a final decision. I would think I had chosen only to wake up the next day and feel more uncertain than I had before choosing in the first place. It was a kind of buyer’s remorse: initially ecstatic followed the next day by feelings of wrong doing and regret. Eventually, using the factors of budget, weather, and time, I whittled away at a much longer list and got it down to three possibilities: Xinjiang Autonomous Region of China, Malaysia, and Vietnam. And after much deliberation I chose Xinjiang for my summer tour.

Xinjiang won in the end because it offered the most adventure, the greatest unknown. I love Vietnam and plan to ride the full length of the country some day. However, due to heavy summer rains and oppressive heat, I decided that summer is a poor time for that trip. Malaysia was enticing, too. It has a lot of great things to see and do and I hear the people are friendly and the food amazing. But it just wasn’t “wild” enough for my needs right now. It was too safe, too tame. It wasn’t “out there” enough. Like Vietnam, I plan to cycle there some day but it won’t be this summer. In the end, Xinjiang was the only choice for me.

Xinjiang in Brief

Xinjiang Autonomous Region is the western frontier of China and is the largest of the 32 administrative divisions that make up the country. At 1.66 million square kilometers, on its own it would be the 17^th largest country in the world after Libya and before Iran. Dense mountains, arid wastelands, and deadly seas of sand separate it from it’s neighbors. Led by the majority Uyghur people, Xinjiang is central Asian in culture, history, and location. They share little with their distant Han Chinese countrymen centered in the east and ruling from Beijing. This cultural distinction from the rest of China is one of the many things that draws visitors to this beautiful region.

I have already spent several hours poring over maps staking out towns and villages, and must-see attractions. I have created a route that satisfies all the itches that I hope this trip will scratch. The route reaches about 4000 kilometers to see all that I want to see. But I harbor no fantasy of riding all 4000 kilometers. Not in the time I have. My goal is to ride at least 3000 and use an occasional bus or train to make up the difference.

The Route

My trip will begin on July 5^th in the far west at the ancient city of Kashgar. Kashgar is one of the pearls of the Silk Road and a great cultural hearth. Long an important meeting place and center of exchange for east and west, Kashgar is home to the Grand Bazaar, the largest market in central Asia. It is also the site of the splendid Id Kah Mosque, and the Kashgar Old Town area which retains much of the rich cultural flavor of an age gone by.

From Kashgar I will proceed north first skirting the edge of the massive Taklamakan Desert before climbing into the tangled morass of rock that is the Tian Shan Mountains. Along the way, possible sites include ancient grottos that were home to thousands of early Buddhist texts, the Tian Shan Grand Canyon, and the vast and astounding grasslands of Ili. These grasslands, found high in the Tian Shan Mountains are some of the finest examples of alpine grasslands in Asia.

North to Kanas

The ride north will continue past beautiful lakes and mountains, interesting cultural sites, vast wastelands of sere parched earth, and sudden and unexpected forest until the road reaches the far northwest of Xinjiang and the gorgeous Kanas Lake. Kanas is not only a place of much natural beauty but also offers the opportunity to do a traditional yurt homestay with the indigenous Mongol and Kazakh people that call this region home.

From the northwest, the route will sweep an arc south east eventually passing near the eastern range of the Tian Shan and arrive in Turpan. Turpan (pronounced Tulufan) is the hottest place in China, where daytime temperatures routinely reach into the 40’s. The small city sits in the middle of the Turpan Depression. This is the lowest place in China. At 154 meters below sea level at Lake Ayding, it is the 4th lowest place on earth. Nearby is the Flaming Mountains. Here the red rock absorbs so much of the hot sun that surface temperatures reach above 70 degrees Celsius. Turpan is also home to many interesting cultural attractions such as Emin Minaret, the 2000-year-old Karez Irrigation system, and Jiaohe ancient city. Also, nearby to Turpan is Grape Valley. The grapes here are widely known as the sweetest in all of China.

From Turpan the plan is to head east across the northern edge of the Taklamakan Desert to the small city of Barkol before ending in the oasis city of Kumul.

Lots to See? Better Take Lots of Camera Batteries

These are just a few of the many highlights that this journey through Xinjiang offers. They are too many to list here. And that doesn’t consider all the unknown things that are out there waiting for me to discover.

Last year I rode in Gansu and Qinghai. Many of my favorite moments were discovering the unknown wonders and beauty that I happened upon. They are not things that are marked on any maps or appear in guidebooks. Yet their beauty provides a type of wonder that the expected cannot.

That is not to take away from the many things that I already know from photos. In these cases, the excitement comes from wondering how they will look in person. How it will feel to see them? Can those grasslands really be as beautiful as they appear in pictures? Will I see the mountains that I have seen in pictures? Or will I see something different, perhaps even more wondrous than I imagined? Even in the known there is much that is unknown. And that is so exciting. And of course there are the people that I meet along the trail. People with warm smiles and open hearts. People that share a moment of their life with me that make any journey complete.

This should be an epic journey full of incredible sights and wonderful experiences. I can’t wait to begin this trip and share it with you. I hope you will all come along with me. Feel free to bring a friend.

See you soon in Xinjiang!