12/3 Ride to Kanyakumari With a Stop at the Zoo
 

Before we went to bed last night, we decided that we would leave the beach and head for Kanyakumari today. However, last night's rain had us reconsidering this plan. I was woken up before dawn by an extremely strong rainstorm, and it was still raining when we got up at 6:30 am. We decided that if it stopped raining before 9:30, we would ride south today, but if not, we would stay another day. The rain did stop around 8:30 am, and we took that as our cue. After loading up the bikes again, we headed south for Trivandrum.

The ride to Trivandrum wove through a nearly continuous string of small towns and the traffic was horrendous. It took us two hours to ride 35 miles to the zoo. I was pleased to find the zoo's location in my GPS, and it guided us directly to the main entrance. We parked the bikes and cable locked our riding gear to them before we headed into the zoo.

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The zoo was a nice, compact size and was filled with lots of interesting animals. We spent the next two hours or so looking at birds and monkeys and their impressive collection of big cats, which included leopards, lions, jaguars, and several tigers.

After making our way back to the bikes, we continued south towards Kanyakumari. Through the rest of Kerala, the road surface was okay and the long procession of towns continued. Once we crossed the border into Tamil Nadu, the roads got a little worse, and traffic became very heavy. We were again back to dodging buses and trucks, and then, we hit Nagercoil. The town itself is hardly a blip on the map, but the traffic gave Mumbai a run for its money. In one section, it took over thirty minutes to go four miles, but we finally made it through. The last ten miles into Kanyakumari was a really beautiful stretch. The Western Ghats, which start around Mumbai, end just outside of Kanyakumari, and here are a line of low, single humps that jut out of the ground, surrounded by impossibly green rice paddies.

We eventually made it into Kanyakumari, and Re set out on foot in search of a guesthouse while I waited with the bikes. Once again, the usual crowd formed, and I spent thirty minutes or so talking about the bikes and our trip with all those assembled.

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Re found us a very nice hotel for a reasonable price, with cold AC and a beautiful view from the balcony. Kanyakumari is the southernmost point in India and has a famous temple that attracts thousands of pilgrims each day. So later that evening, we headed out into the bazaar to find some dinner and mingle with the pilgrims. Since we were both exhausted from our ride today, we returned to the room, set the AC for 70 degrees, and snuggled up under the blanket(!) for a good night sleep.

100 miles in about 5.5 hours. My bike has no mid-range and is softly backfiring when closing the throttle. What's up with that?

12/4 Touring the Sights in Kanyakumari
 

Last night we set the AC for wintertime in central Oregon and crawled underneath the blanket as a nice treat. A lovely night of sleep was suddenly ruined when, at 5:00 am, the local Catholic church started blasting Mass through their way too loud PA system. After an hour or so, I staggered out of bed and rummaged around until I found our earplugs. These jammed firmly in our ears, it brought the word of God down to a dull roar. Since it was so chilly when we tried to get out from under the covers, we just shut off the alarm and snuggled up to keep warm. Eventually we had to get up, so we turned up the temperature and got ready for the day. The religious service was finally over at 9:00 am, but hey, it is Sunday after all. Re had purchased a watermelon during our stroll last night, and we had some before we went out for a real breakfast of masala dosa. Every other time we've had masala dosa, the filling and chutneys have been mildly spiced. But of course, today, the filling and even the coconut chutney were very spicy.

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After destroying what was left of my stomach lining, we walked down to the beachfront to take our photos at the southernmost point in India. Unfortunately, motor vehicles are not allowed, so we were unable to get a picture of the mighty Symbas at the end of the subcontinent. We now have been to the southernmost point in Africa and in India on this trip. Here at the beachfront, there is the massive Kumari Amman temple, which is a Hindu pilgrimage site.

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This morning we saw hundreds of pilgrims visiting the temple, bathing in the sea, and doing their shopping in the sprawling market that surrounds the temple.

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Also at the beachfront is the Gandhi Memorial, which we visited.

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Near the beachfront is an exhibition of the life and journeys of the Indian philosopher Swami Vivekananda, who is also known as the Wandering Monk. The Swami was a fascinating man who spent part of his life traveling India and learning about all of its major religions before trying to revitalize India through religion and social justice.

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Later, we took the ferry out to an island approximately 400 meters off shore, where the Swami meditated at the end of his all-India journey. Here, his followers have built a memorial and temple to pay tribute to him. The ferry trip was our first real introduction to the legendary queuing in India. First, we had to get into a mile-long line to buy a ticket, all the while fending off latecomers who believe they want to get on the ferry worse than you do. Then, after finally getting a ticket, we joined another mile-long line to board the ferry. This line was inside the ferry building, and it was hot. A family who was in line behind us shared some of their snack food (chaat) with us while we all waited, and of course, it was spicy. After nearly an hour from the time we first joined the line, we finally got on the boat for the five minute ride to the island. After touring the first island, you queue again to get back on the ferry for the 100 meter ride to the next island to see the 133-feet high statue of the Tamil poet, Thiruvalluvar. We didn't really want to go to this island, but that's where the boat went. We would have liked to have stayed on the boat and gone back to the mainland, but no, you must get off and get in another line in order to get back on the next boat. By now, the temperature was 95 degrees and we were dishrags. Fortunately, while we waited for the next ferry, I was able to score two cups of vanilla ice cream, which melted as fast as we ate it. The ferry finally made it back to the mainland, and we only had to queue once more to drop our life preservers in the pile before FREEDOM!

We walked back to the hotel room, turned on the AC, and took a nap. Suitably refreshed, we headed out for dinner at a non-vegetarian restaurant. I ordered the chicken pilau and was nervous when it arrived, as both the chicken and the rice were lukewarm. But against my better judgment, I ate it anyway. After dinner, I had a funny feeling in my tummy but attributed it to the greasiness of the meal. Fingers crossed!

0 miles. Tomorrow we head for Madurai.

12/5 Ride to Madurai
 

Once again, a perfectly lovely night's sleep was shattered at 5:00 am by the wall of sound coming from the church half a mile away. But hey. It's Monday? Maybe that's why the assault only lasted two hours this morning. After showering and packing all our gear we headed down to the bikes for a little exploratory wrenching. I had been thinking about the poor running and soft backfiring of my bike and was interested to see what kind of condition my spark plug was in. When we changed Re's spark plug two weeks ago, I didn't really look at it since it was so hot, but she is not now having the same problems as I am. In the hotel parking lot, we pulled my spark plug and found the center electrode to be worn and the plug gap to be approximately twice what is specified. The plug was also fairly black. Well now, that's a problem that is easily fixed. We replaced the bad plug with the freshly gapped new plug from the spares bag and after putting a few psi in some tires, we were ready to hit the road. My bike started more easily than it has lately, and once underway, the effect of the new plug was dramatic. I now have midrange and no more backfiring. It's amazing how much nicer a bike is to ride when it's burning all the fuel.

Our destination for today is the city of Madurai, which is 160 miles due north of Kanyakumari, and our first non-coastal destination of the trip. After making our way through the first five miles or so of city riding, we merged onto a glorious piece of pavement. The Nh 7 is a beautifully smooth, four-lane divided highway, with almost no traffic. No potholes, no slowing down for towns every three miles, no speedbumps, no solid line of trucks and buses belching diesel in our faces, and almost no oncoming traffic in our lanes. The only bad part of the ride today was the wind. The area we rode through had several windfarms and we soon found why they were located here. But hey, if the worst we have to do is fight a little wind, then it's a really good day riding in India!

But all good things must come to an end, and it did, once we reached Madurai. The Lonely Planet compares the traffic in Madurai to that of Rome, and it is pretty bad. Multiple lanes full of buses, trucks, autorickshaws, motorbikes, bicycles, pedestrians, all trying to get somewhere now. Once again we were glad to have the GPS which eventually led us to the hotel area near the big temple. There must be a festival going on now, because all the recommended hotels rates have gone up by 50 to 100%. While I sat with the bikes on a busy street corner and chatted with the locals and a woman from Chapel Hill, NC, Re spent nearly an hour checking out the possibilities. She eventually returned with news of a newly remodeled and lovely room in an otherwise kind of shabby hotel. We rode to the hotel and parked out front while we checked in. The big drawback to this hotel is that it's on a busy city street, and they have no off-street parking. The room itself was beautiful, all brand-new, with nice linens and a flat screen Sony TV hanging on the wall.

After checking in, we went in search of a late lunch and tried one of the recommended restaurants around the corner. I have not been feeling very well all day. I don't have any specific complaints other than mild nausea and no real desire to eat, so I ate a fairly plain lunch. Since it was later in the day and we had a full day of sightseeing planned for tomorrow, we went back to the room and caught up on ride reports and blog posts. Later, we headed out for dinner. My stomach hurt, but I wanted to put something in it to keep the system going. We found a restaurant that had fish and chips for me and some delicious Indian food for Re. I ate my dinner but did not necessarily enjoy it, and do not want to think about food or smell food. Back at the hotel, our friendly bellhop gestured to the bikes and had us follow him to a locked metal door on the storefront next to the hotel entrance. He unlocked it and motioned for us to wheel the bikes inside. Yay, secure parking! We were happy to have the bikes off the street, and he seemed very happy to have the 50 rupees (1 USD) tip that I gave him. Feeling better about the bikes and worse about my health, we went upstairs for bed.


165 miles in 5 hours. My bike is running better and our average speed is finally above 30 mph.

12/6 Touring Madurai
 

Last night's bad stomachache turned into the inevitable today. Sigh. Is it the grease? Is it the spiciness? I don't know, but this stomachache just won't quit.

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Eventually, we left the hotel and walked up to see the huge Sri Meenakshi temple, which is the “crowning jewel” of Madurai.

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The temple itself is huge, covering six hectares and is marked by twelve gopurams, which are giant towers covered with Hindu deities and other figures, all painted in an explosion of bright colors. The tallest of the towers here is 52 meters high. After fending off the usual touts and guides, and here, tailors, we checked our shoes and went inside. Like most of the temples in India, some areas are off-limits to non-Hindus, but here, large portions of the temple are open. We spent the next few hours touring the temple, observing the pilgrims, and marveling at the architecture.

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Re got “kissed” on the head by the temple elephant as a blessing, and hopefully the elephant snot in her hair will bring her good luck.

Sometime after noon, we wandered back to the hotel, stopping on the way to pick up some baked goods which I thought I could eat. After eating our food, we hopped on the bikes and rode the three miles or so to the Gandhi Museum. We arrived at around 1:15 and soon found out that the lunch hour at the museum is from 1:00 until 2:00.

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So we killed our 45 minutes by wandering around the grounds of the museum and having our picture taken several times by other visitors to the museum. This is something that happens at nearly every site we visit. People love to have their picture taken with us (I assume with other foreigners as well) and I have no idea how many people's vacation photos we will eventually end up in. Re and I joke that if we charge five rupees for each picture, we could pay for our trip. Finally, 2:00 pm rolled around and we entered the museum. The first half of the museum tells the story of the occupation of India from the early days in the 1500s through to India's eventual independence in the late 1940s. The second half of the museum is dedicated to the life and work of Mahatma Gandhi. His life is a fascinating story and is told in great detail through text, photos, exhibits, and letters he wrote. For me the most moving part of the exhibit was the blood-stained dhoti that he was wearing when he was gunned down by a Hindu zealot on his way to a prayer meeting in 1948.

After the museum we rode back to the hotel and escaped from the heat by working on ride reports and blog posts before heading out to an internet cafe to post the results. On the way back to the hotel, we picked up chicken shawarmas and potato wedges, which we ate in the room. While the food tasted good, it did bring on another bout of tummy trouble. Sigh.

6 miles of crazy city traffic.

12/7 Ride to Trichy
 

Last night's tummy trouble continued through to this morning. Sigh. Since this did not seem to be going away on its own, I broke into our meds and started my second course of Azithromycin in India. Since we only brought four courses between us, I had been resisting using "my" last strip of pills. Azithromycin is the recommended treatment for travelers' diarrhea in India, but Re and I are beginning to suspect that perhaps I have something besides travelers' diarrhea. Next time we get the interwebs, we'll have to do a little research, but for now Azithro it is.

We hit the road around 9:00 am to make the short ride to Tiruchirappalli (Trichy), which is a small temple town situated on either side of the Cauvery River. Today's ride was another enjoyable hundred miles or so back on the same, divided, four-lane highway, with light traffic and beautiful scenery. The fact that it was cooler and breezy today only added to the comfort of the ride, but we did end up fighting a headwind most of the way. The good roads also allowed us to make excellent time, and we made it to Trichy by noon. Once in Trichy, the traffic turned even more chaotic than usual for a town in Tamil Nadu, but we still made it to the bus station area, where the tourist hotels are located. While Re went off in search of a hotel, I sat with the bikes and chatted with the autorickshaw drivers about the relative merits of our bikes versus the domestically produced (and similar) Bajaj M80. Re came back after thirty minutes or so with news of an inexpensive, AC hotel with off-street, guarded parking. We motored the two blocks or so to the hotel, checked in, and then had a delicious thali lunch in the restaurant on the ground floor.

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After lunch we hopped back on the bikes and headed for one of the big sights in Trichy, the Rock Fort Temple. Once again, we were extremely glad to have our GPS, which had the location of the temple, because there is no way we would have ever found our way through the maze without it. The Rock Fort Temple is a pretty cool piece of stonework.

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The upper of the two temples in the complex required a 437 step climb, but the panoramic view of the surrounding town and river was worth the effort. Both temples are working temples, but surprisingly, we were allowed to enter the upper one. But perhaps the highlight of the climb was the small gang of rhesus monkeys who demand food from the pilgrims and raid the trash cans for any scraps they can find. Like most temples in India we've visited so far, there are safe drinking water dispensers, and these monkeys were clever enough to know how to operate the taps after they finished their meals. It was late in the afternoon when we hiked back down the 437 steps, so we saddled up and rode back to the hotel. After we parked and locked up the bikes, we went out in search of dinner. After my relatively bland meal, my stomach seemed to be doing okay. Fingers crossed.

95 miles in about 3 hours.

12/8 Sri Ranganathaswamy Temple and Ride to Thanjavur
 

I woke up feeling better this morning, so I decided to skip the next Azithro (the dosing information for Azithro says to take one pill, and if that clears it up, you can stop. If it doesn't clear it up, take one more each day for the next two days). After having some fruit in the room, we rode across the Cauvery River to the Sri Ranganathaswamy Temple, which the Lonely Planet described as “quite possibly the biggest temple in India,” and was going to “knock your socks off.” Well, it was big, but honestly, it was quite underwhelming.

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The vast majority of everything interesting is apparently closed to non-Hindus, and while the gopurams were indeed impressive, you would need binoculars (which we left in the room) to truly appreciate the plethora of colorful characters that covered them.

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After touring the temple for a couple of hours, my tummy let me know it was time to head back to the hotel quickly, and that I would indeed be finishing my course of Azithromycin. Heavy sigh. We made it back to the hotel in time, and after several games of spider solitaire on the iPhone, we loaded up the bikes and hit the road for Thanjavur about 1:00 pm.

Today's ride was a hard couple of hours. No more four-lane road, we found ourselves wandering through small towns, bouncing over speedbumps, and dodging homicidal buses for most of the 55 mile ride. Once we reached Thanjavur we made a beeline for our preferred hotel, which was supposed to have wifi and reasonable rates. Well, they had wifi, but the rate had nearly doubled, so the search continued. Out came the phone, and we called three other possibilities. At our second choice, we ran into a tiny, little parking guard with a whistle and a Napoleonic complex. When we pulled up in front of the hotel, he came out, blew his whistle, and pointed for us to park in another place. So, we moved to the other place, which was in front of a small eatery on the ground floor of the hotel. Here, another man came out of the eatery and pantomimed eating, pointing at our bikes and the restaurant. We shook our heads no, and he gestured for us to get the hell out of his parking lot. So, we rode the twenty feet back to the hotel parking lot, where the little dictator tried to shoo us away again. We pointed to ourselves and to the front of the hotel, and he finally got the clue. He then decided that instead of us staying where we were, we needed to snake our way up over a 6- inch high sidewalk at a 45-degree angle between cars, a power pole, and the building. Since Re was ahead, she went before I could stop her. The little dictator decided that blowing his whistle loudly and yelling would somehow ensure success. I had the very bad feeling that this was going to end in tears, but Re seemed confident that she could make it. But she didn't. When her rear tire slipped off the sidewalk and dropped the 6-inches back to the dirt, her bike lurched sideways toward the wall and in her attempt to save the bike from going over, she twisted the throttle. Oh no. The rear tire caught traction on the edge of the sidewalk and Re and her bike ended up hitting the wall of the hotel. The good news is Re was not injured (other than her pride), but the bike didn't fare so well. The good news also was that the little dictator stopped blowing his whistle and yelling and actually just walked away. After we extricated the bike, the damage assessment revealed a cracked mirror, cracked front fender, cracked turn signal lens, and a pissed off wife. I think the little dictator was wise to leave when he did, or he may have found that whistle wedged where the sun don't shine. After all this, Re went into the hotel, only to find that they would not honor the rate they'd given us over the phone just ten minutes before. Sigh.

On to choice number three, which was a few more rupees, but was very nice, except that while checking in, the rate suddenly jumped by nearly 6 USD. Even though Re asked several times if the original price included tax and was assured that yes it did, suddenly it did not include tax. So, back on the bikes and on to choice number four. Finally, we made it to a place where the price was what was quoted on the phone. The room was nice enough, but the AC did not work, so we changed rooms and headed out to repair what we could on Re's bike. After thoroughly cleaning the fender inside and out, we dipped into the toolkit for Superglue and Gorilla tape. We glued the cracked fender and backed the repair with Gorilla tape on the inside for good measure, and also glued the cracked turn signal lens. While we had the tools out, we also straightened the turn signal mount, but the cracked mirror is just gonna have to remain cracked. With that done, we went out to check email at an internet cafe and get some dinner. When we returned to the room, it was cooler in the hallway than it was in our room. To make matters worse, the man at reception spoke little English and we had a hard time explaining what the problem was. Eventually we changed to a third room in time for bed, where the AC was blissfully cool and went to sleep.

64 miles in about 2 hours. Re really has to start taking it easy on the equipment or she's walking to Australia...

12/9 Touring in Thanjavur
 

Woke up feeling significantly better this morning but took my last Azithromycin as per instructions. One of the other possible causes of my distress could be giardia. When we were at the internet cafe last night Re looked up the symptoms and treatment and found that Azithromycin won't touch it. The list of symptoms of travelers' diarrhea and giardia are similar, but one symptom particular to giardia is fatigue, which is one that I am experiencing. Since giardia is also known as "beaver fever" in the United States, I was excited about the treatment possibilities, but then I found out that it's just a different pill. Pout. If my problem reoccurs, we will have to find Tinidazole at a local pharmacy, but meanwhile, I will continue with the “homeopathic” remedy. :whistling:

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Our plan for today was to see the sights that Thanjavur has to offer, so we walked the half mile to the Brihadishwara Temple and Fort. This temple is different in that the sandstone is natural rather than having every surface plastered and painted. Between the natural stone surfaces and the excellent carvings, it reminded us a bit of Angkor Wat.

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Also notable is the humongous statue of Nandi (Shiva's ride) that is carved from a single piece of rock and is nearly 20 feet long (that's a lot of hamburgers if they made hamburgers in India. I would like a hamburger.).

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This temple is also different from all we've seen so far in that the central tower (vimana) is the tallest structure, whereas, in all the others, the gopurams have been the tallest. Here the vimana is nearly 200 feet high.

After the temple, we hoofed another half mile to the Thanjavur Royal Palace and Museums. The palace was once a grand place but has fallen into a state of decay. It is a huge complex of many different halls, some of which now house tiny “museums,” and a 7-story bell tower.

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We dutifully shuffled through the complex and admired what remained. We were both puzzled, however, that apparently nothing is being done to even preserve, let alone restore, what was an important site of south Indian importance.

After the palace, we hoofed our way back to the hotel, and after bypassing all the obvious lunch options, stopped at a sweaty little hole in the wall near our hotel. This was a very basic, local restaurant that normally wouldn't have caught our eye, except that every time we walked by, virtually every seat was occupied no matter what time of day. While we stood outside looking in, the waiter gestured us inside and found us two seats at a common table. There were no menus, and apparently no one spoke English, but we ordered our lunch by pointing at other patrons meals. We were served some spicy (not too spicy) rice, curd rice, green stuff, onion raitha, and an egg and onion omelet and as quickly as we ate, our banana leaves were refilled with more yummy goodness. At the end of the meal, we went to the counter to pay, and the cost for two lunches was a total of 37 rupees (75 cents). We had a delicious, cheap lunch and our fellow patrons seemed tickled to have us there.

Since it was a hot afternoon, we went back to the room to enjoy some AC and continue my "course of treatment" before heading out to find an ATM and check out the local motorcycle shops. Across the street from our hotel was a small motorcycle shop we had spotted the night before and that had a stack of likely looking tires out front. Back when we were planning this trip, and I believe in one of my first posts here, I said that the world rolled on 2.5 x 17 tires. I was wrong. It turns out the world actually rolls on 2.75 x 18 tires, at least both in India and Africa. Fortunately for us, the Bajaj M80 runs a 2.25 x 17 front and a 2.75 x 17 rear, which we found at the local shop. We still have the new fronts that we purchased in Namibia, but the Michelin Gazelles rear tires we installed in Zimbabwe (this set has lasted much longer than the first) will need replaced soon. The shop had two Dunlop M80 rear tires with a more aggressive tread pattern than the Gazelles, and they were 22 USD each. Other Symba riders have reported that 2.75 rears will fit, but that the 3.00 rub on the center stand. These Dunlops have a deep tread, so hopefully they fit. We also picked up two new tubes and two new spark plugs, for a grand total of 50 USD (gotta love little bikes!). The shop owner seemed happy to help us and even sent his assistant out to get the spark plugs that he didn't have, and threw in three of his shop logoed keychains to boot. We returned to the room with our stash of shiny new bits and then worked on ride reports for a while.

Later that evening, we went out to an internet cafe with the intent of posting some photos and RRs, but our plans were derailed by news from home. Rant mode on: I am really tired of people ****ing with our happiness. Re and I try to enjoy life. We don't always succeed, but we try. Other people in our families live for the drama, which is fine, because we're halfway around the world, so it shouldn't effect us. But somehow, people make sure that it does. Neither Re nor I is the favorite child in our respective families, and we know that. But somehow, people feel that they need to remind us of that occasionally. Since before we left the States, the favorite child in each of our families has been sowing hate and discontent. While I am aware of my situation, I have chosen to studiously ignore it and hope that the situation will reveal itself for what it is. Re's family, on the other hand, can't let her forget their situation, and it reared its ugly head again today. Why are we 12,000-whatever ****ing miles from home, and somehow, my wife is crying over some dumb bullshit which she has no part in? Another perfectly good time, ruined by family members. If you can't escape the bullshit on the other side of the world, where can you? On the other hand, it is making our decision as to whether to ever return to the US a little easier. Rant mode off.

0 miles of riding, 2 miles on foot.

12/10 Ride to Puducherry (Pondy)
 

After last night's news, neither of us slept very well of felt particularly cheery this morning. To add to the fun, it apparently rained overnight and the humidity was astronomically high. Since our new Dunlops would ride in place of our used Gazelles, I took the used tires and donated them to a local tire repair business before adding a few psi to the bikes. The early morning humidity meant that we were soaked by the time we got on the bikes, and that plus the bad roads and heavy traffic did nothing to lighten our moods today. After several easy days of riding, India returned in spades. The highlight of the ride was when both Re and I had to ride off the road into the dirt at speed to avoid being hit by an oncoming bus that was passing another bus. Grrrrr.

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It was unfortunate that the traffic and roads were so bad, because what we could see of the scenery was beautiful. This is an agricultural part of India filled with the fresh green of new rice in the paddies. We also crossed several wide rivers and made our way across two dams. And then it started pouring rain. And then the rain stopped.

And Re pulled over with a flat rear tire. Fortunately she was next to a weigh station, so we had a convenient, level place off the road to change a tire, and of course, an audience. Under the watchful eyes of a rotating group of six to eight men, we removed the rear wheel, found the 1 inch long piece of nail(?) through the center of the tread, removed the tire, and found that the tube had an approximately 2 inch long tear, making it unrepairable. At this sight, the crowd groaned but cheered up when we produced a new tube from our spares kit. Re found an empty whiskey bottle in the ditch in which she mixed some water and liquid soap we had for tire lube, greatly impressing the crowd. We quickly put the rear wheel back together, and after a mere 270 strokes of the air pump, we were back on the road.

We finally made it to Pondy at around 3:00, at which time Re disappeared in search of a room. While she was gone, I compared rides with a local autorickshaw driver who spoke excellent English, and he even bought me a cup of tea while we talked. Re eventually returned and we headed to our new digs for the night, which turned out to be right on the water in a very nice little guesthouse. I was surprised by the price when I saw the room, but then realized that it was discounted due to its peculiar non-ensuite bathroom setup. The room had its own bathroom, but it was located across the lobby, behind the reception desk. The very best thing about Pondy is that it was formerly occupied by the French and is technically not part of Tamil Nadu. This means that there is excellent western food and that beer is very cheap and easy to find.

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After a walk along the promenade, Re and I went to a lovely French restaurant for some really excellent steaks, mashed potatoes, and the coldest Kingfishers we've had in India. After briefly considering getting another steak for dessert, we instead found some ice cream along the promenade and grabbed a couple more beers before turning in for the night.

120 miles in 6 hours. 1 rainstorm, 1 flat tire, 1 near death experience.

12/11 Wandering Pondy
 

Another day, another symptom. I woke up today with a very congested head and itchy eyes. If it's not trouble coming out of one end, it's trouble coming from another. After blowing my nose twenty times, I took an antihistamine from our first aid kit and went out to greet the morning. It was a sunny day, a bit warm and humid, but the ocean breeze kept it comfortable. We walked north along the promenade and stopped at a small French cafe for breakfast. We enjoyed our coffees and almond croissants at a table with a view of the water before continuing our walk to the Sunday market. Since most of the shops in the central business district are closed on Sundays, small vendors set up their wares on the sidewalks, and what an odd assortment there is. From new clothes to used blenders, and everything in between. We were able to find a new funnel (since the spout on the old one has worn away from rubbing on my rear wheel). We also found an open pharmacy that had Tinidazole. I decided to buy the 2g dose for giardia just in case my trouble returns, especially since no prescription was required and it cost less than 50 cents. While we were there, Re also found some fancy new powder that will hopefully prevent our butts from getting so chafed.

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Since it was lunchtime, we made our way to a place known for its wood-fired pizzas. I ordered mine with the first bacon that I'd had since Swakopmund, Namibia. Deeeelicious.

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After lunch, we did a walking tour of the old section of town and admired the architecture of the French Quarter. Next, we made our way to the least inspiring botanical gardens we've ever visited. One of the nice things about visiting a botanical garden is usually the signs identifying the plants and trees. Unfortunately, there were almost none here. We also paid our 10 cents each to visit the aquarium, which had fewer tanks and fewer fish than most WalMart pet departments do.

Since the afternoon had gotten very warm and my nose had started running again, we went back to the room to cool off. While I did a little research on our upcoming northward travel in India, Re worked on blog posts. Later that evening we found an internet cafe with extremely fast connection, which allowed us to upload about ninety photos to the Smugmug account and to post some updates to the blog. Hungry, we went off in search of dinner. On the way to the restaurant we were amused to see a small herd (okay, four) of water buffaloes cruising down the street. Even though they looked delicious, we decided to have salads for dinner. After dinner, we once again enjoyed our favorite dessert of beer and ice cream before calling it a night.

0 miles. 1 new symptom.

12/12 Ride to Mamallapuram
 

Same same, but different. I woke up this morning, still congested and with a lot of drainage, feeling vaguely feverish. We loaded up the bikes for our short ride to Mamallapuram, another temple town farther up the coast. While I checked over the bikes, I grabbed the thermometer from the first aid kit and found that my temperature was normal. Time to suck it up and ride. The first ten miles or so leaving Pondy were tough- lots of broken pavement and heavy traffic. Once clear of Pondy, the road turned beautiful, and traffic dwindled to a trickle. Another pretty ride through the agricultural countryside. The new feature today was the large number of oxcarts plying the roads.

Since we left Pondy at 9:00 am, we made it to Mal by 11:00, and were checked into a room by noon. While we were unloading the bikes, I decided to check my temp again, and my fever had arrived. While my temperature was only a little high, I did not feel well. I did feel well enough, however, to enjoy a lovely lunch of pasta with cream sauce and chicken. At least with whatever I have now, I still have an appetite.

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After lunch, I returned to the room for a three hour nap, while Re went sightseeing. She woke me up when she returned, and I felt remarkably better. Not great, but good enough to get another steak for dinner.

68 miles in 2 hours.

12/13 Touring Mamallapuram
 

I woke up feeling much better this morning- no fever and my stomach was feeling pretty good. Mal is a big tourist town for foreigners due to its proximity to Chennai and laid back atmosphere. This makes for decent food and some familiar faces. Before heading out to tour the sights, Re and I stopped for breakfast a couple of doors up the street at the oddly named, “Freshly, N Hot,” where we had a lovely breakfast of real coffee, fruit salads, and croissants. The French influence of Pondy seems to extend this far north.

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Since the sights in Mal are spread over more distance than we wanted to walk, we saddled up the Symbas and hit the road. Our first stop was the Five Rathas, a group of five shrines that were hidden in the sand until rediscovered and excavated by the British 200 years ago. Though the Rathas were impressive in that each one was carved from a single piece of stone, we were a little underwhelmed by the small size of the site. From here we rode a short distance to a group of mandapams situated on Mal's main hill. The hike through the rocks led to several temples carved out of the hillside.

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We then rode the bikes down to see Arjuna's Penance and Krishna's Butterball. Arjuna's Penance is an enormous relief carving on the face of a stone temple and was the highlight of the temples in Mal.

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Krishna's Butterball is just a giant rock that appears to be improbably balanced.

Having seen the sights on the south side of town, we returned to the hotel, where we dropped off the bikes and found some lunch. After lunch we walked down to the beach and made our way to the Shore Temple. This temple was again, small, but magnificently carved, and with an ocean view to boot.

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We continued south along the beach and found ourselves at a funny little beach carnival. It consisted mainly of a couple of “pop the balloon with a BB gun” stands and the saddest kiddie rides we've ever seen. While we may not have been impressed, lots of local people seemed to be having a pretty good time.

Re finally found hair bleach in a color besides brown and decided now was a good opportunity to do her hair. The box said it was golden blonde, and yet 30 minutes later, Re is now a redhead. Hopefully some of the color will wash out over the next few days. Later that night we went to the local French restaurant for a delicious dinner.

3 miles.

12/14 Lazy Day in Mal/One Month in India
 

After breakfast we worked on ride reports and blogposts in the room. We made our way out for a lunch of cheese omelets and frites. In the afternoon, we worked on ride reports some more, and I uploaded the results and a few photos on the frustratingly slow and intermittent wifi while Re hit the town and came back with two paperbacks and a watermelon. Since our plan was to hit the road for Vellore tomorrow, we decided to have a big dinner of salads, steak, and grilled calamari.


0 miles.

12/15 Ride to Vellore
 

The power went out overnight, so no AC and no fan made for a crappy night's sleep. The power outage likely was due to the huge rainstorms and high wind that went on for most of the night. When the sun came up, it was still raining. Since the ride to Vellore was only a hundred miles or so, we decided to give the weather until 9:30 to sort itself out. The rain stopped during breakfast, so we headed back to the room and loaded the bikes. We questioned the wisdom of heading out from such a nice place into potentially bad weather but decided to go for it anyway.

While it was not raining when we pulled out of the hotel, it was very dark in every direction, and the cloud deck was solid as far as we could see. Approximately two miles down the road, it started raining again. The rain continued on and off (mostly on) for the entire trip, but it did stop once we reached the outskirts of Vellore. Today's ride was really a tale of two different rides.

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The first 50 miles was made up of intermittent, very heavy rain and some of the worst road, if not the worst road, in India. It took us three hours to make the first 30 miles.

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We spent about 20 of those minutes under the awning of some business, where we chatted with the local people hiding from the rain. The last 50 miles were on 4-lane divided highway with excellent paving and light traffic (and only the occasional rain shower).

Vellore is a strange town. It's main business is medicine. The Christian Medical College Hospital and Vellore Fort dominate the city, but fortunately, we were here for the latter. Our hotel was directly across the street from the hospital, and the streets were filled with patients and their families. We wandered around the main street and a few back streets, taking in the sights, when we heard drums and firecrackers coming around the corner. Being a fan of loud noises, we headed toward their source. We found a procession of drummers and marchers pulling a large, flower covered float, and periodically someone would light a string of firecrackers. As the procession passed, the flower covered float made its way in front of us and it was then we noticed the dead person riding in the float. It must have been some sort of funeral procession. One side benefit of being a “destination” town is the large number of restaurants. We had excellent Indian food for both lunch and dinner and beers for dessert.

While we enjoyed lunch and dinner, one of the most difficult elements of long-term travel for Re and I is lack of choice in food. Re is an excellent cook and is happy to make whatever we want for meals. We are used to being able to say, “hey, I'd like...” and either make it or go out and buy it someplace. But that choice doesn't exist on the road. It's one thing to be limited to the often excellent local cuisine for a two-week vacation, but after 4.5 months on the road, I do really miss being able to choose what I want for dinner.

100 miles in 5 hours.

Brilliabeernt

12/16 Touring Fort Vellore and Ride to Erode
 

We left the AC and fan on overnight in order to dry out our boots and gloves, and we were happy to see that they were nearly dry when we got up. Since we got into Vellore late yesterday, we decided to visit Fort Vellore this morning before riding towards Ooty. After having some fruit, we walked down to the fort and toured the grounds.

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The fort is grandest from the exterior, where the high walls and wide moat are an impressive sight. The buildings in the interior of the fort have, on the other hand, seen better days. Like much of colonial-era India, they are returning to nature. The highlight of the fort was the beautiful Hindu temple within.

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The Jalakanteshwara Temple was built in the mid-1500s and is a spectacular example of stone carving.

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The wedding hall in particular is made up of a large number of columns, all intricately carved from floor to ceiling.

Another site checked off the list, and we headed back to the hotel. On the way, we stopped for a breakfast of masala dosa and coffee. We loaded up the bikes and hit the road by 11:30 am. The first 120 miles or so was easy riding, and we made good time.

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Once again, it was four lane goodness through farmland and rivers, with hazy mountains in the distance. Since Ooty was nearly 300 miles from Vellore, we knew we would not make it in one day and instead, decided to head for Erode for the night. My GPS stubbornly insisted that we take the long way, but the sign on the roadside promised that if we turned right off of our four-lane goodness, it would save nearly 20 miles. While Re and I stopped to discuss our options, a taxi driver assured us that the shortcut was the way to go. Shortcut, my ass. Shortly after we turned right, the road fell apart. The road surface alternated between shitty and nonexistent and our average speed plummeted. This road also went through dozens of small towns, all with their own set of speedbumps. Eventually we rode past the nuclear plant (?) and made it to Erode by about 5:30 pm.

Erode wasn't listed in our guidebook, but a quick check of the GPS found a cluster of hotels listed near the bus station. Re shortly found a decent room for cheap money, but we later discovered that the room was filled with mosquitoes. We found dinner at an outdoor restaurant set in a nice garden before heading back to the room to make war with the mosquitoes.


195 miles in 6 hours.

12/17 Ride to Ooty
 

Last night's sleep was particularly poor due to the apparently never ending supply of mosquitoes. Before we went to bed, we killed at least 40 mosquitoes between us, and yet, somewhere in the room, there must have been a tiny, mosquito clown car, because they just kept coming. Since the room only came with a wool blanket and it certainly wasn't that cold, we slept inside our silk sleepsacks, and I tried in vain all night to keep my head inside the sleepsack.

We hit the road by 8:30 for the hundred or so miles left to Ooty. The first 10 miles or so were through the extended urban area. About 6 miles into the ride, the law of averages and bad drivers caught up with Re. While riding through a commercial area, I passed an autorickshaw parked on the left side of the road and saw in my peripheral vision another motorbike rider shooting blindly out of a side street into oncoming traffic, as is pretty standard here. Unfortunately the oncoming traffic was Re. No, nononononononononono. I glanced in my rearview mirror in time to see Re t-bone this fine gentleman. She was able to get on the brakes momentarily, and fortunately we weren't traveling fast at the time, but she did center punch the other bike. When I spun around, I saw both bikes in the road and a group of people helping both riders up. When I reached the scene, Re and her bike were upright, and Re was fine, just pissed. The assembled crowd helped us get her bike to the side of the road, so the now backing up traffic could go. Apparently the other rider decided not to stick around for the ass-kicking Re was ready to dole out, as he had left the scene. Amazingly, a quick once over of Re's bike revealed no new damage! From its time on its side, Re's bike had flooded and took a bit to start, but we were back underway.

The roads today were under construction and will eventually be four-lane highway, but for now, they are stretches of paved road connected by dirt and rock. In one particularly bad pothole that I missed avoiding, I re-bent my rear brake lever all the way back to the footpeg again and also dinged the corner of my chain case to the point where it was dragging on the chain. After fixing the chain case (the rear brake lever will have to wait) we again continued towards Ooty. As we rode, large mountains appeared through the haze and got closer and closer, until we reached them. The final thirty-five miles to Ooty was a serpentine road that rose from 1600 feet to 7500 feet. Unfortunately, Ooty is a popular place to visit, and so this thirty-five miles was a near-continuous conga line of slow buses and trucks. We joined our Indian two-wheeled brethren in making blind, stupid overtaking maneuvers, until I nearly paid the price. On one steep section, I very optimistically tried to overtake a bus and made it about halfway alongside, when a line of small trucks came around the corner towards me. Unable to complete the pass, I attempted to slow down and get in behind the bus, but was unable to before the trucks arrived. The roads here are very narrow and I found my left mirror scraping on the side of the bus while two of the trucks clipped my right mirror as they passed. Considering that our mirrors only extend about an inch beyond our handlebars, that was really way too ****in' close. Part of the problem is that the bikes are not enjoying the altitude and are running very poorly, and the other part is that there is a dumbass riding my bike.

We eventually made it to Ooty (alive) and found the YWCA, where we are staying overnight. The novel thing about Ooty is the temperature. When we arrived around 1:30 pm, it was only about 70 degrees. After unpacking the bikes and getting situated, we walked into town for a late lunch at a restaurant that serves meat other than chicken. I dined on some lovely lamb sheesh kebabs while Re had the tandoori chicken. After picking up some snacks for later, we made our way back to the room and spent the rest of the afternoon relaxing and being thankful to still be alive.

100 miles in 5 hours. The bikes are very unhappy with the altitude and we had too many close calls today.

12/18 Working on the Bikes in Ooty
 

It was downright chilly overnight, and the thermometer said it was 61 degrees when we woke up. The rooms here have no heat, but fortunately we had a pile of blankets on the bed. The cover sandwich was made up of a top sheet, followed by a fleece blanket, then two wool blankets on top of it, then another fleece blanket, and then, another sheet on top. We weren't sure this would be enough, so we rented two more fleece blankets from reception for 20 cents. The weight of all these blankets reminded me of the lead blanket they put over you at the dentist when they're taking x-rays of your teeth. Honestly, once we lowered the covers over us, it was extremely difficult to roll over; they were really that heavy. But they were warm, and by the morning, we both were both pleasantly toasty. Since it was cold out from under the covers, we were in no hurry to get up and instead, found a reason to stay in bed a little longer. We eventually braved the morning chill and got up for a hot shower. We then walked into town for breakfast, and most importantly, to pick up two quarts of oil. Our plan for the day was to do some much-needed maintenance on the bikes, so around 11:00 am, we unrolled the tarp and got to work.

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We started with Re's bike, where the first order of business was changing the rear tire and tube. We picked up new 2.75 x 17 Dunlop tires in Thanjavur, and I was a little concerned as to whether they were too big to fit under the bikes. Once installed, we could see that they cleared the center stand by approximately 1/8 inch. As long as there's daylight, I figure we're good to go. While we had the rear tire off, we inspected the rear brake, cush drive rubbers, and the previously problematic hub bolts. Everything looked good, so we adjusted and lubed the chain and moved on to the engine compartment. After removing the leg shields, we removed and cleaned the incredibly filthy air filter, changed the spark plug for a new Indian plug that looked about the same, and reinstalled the original “leaner” pilot jet we changed while still in the US. We changed to the original pilot since the plug in the bike was black, since the bike has been running too rich.

After an oil change, we buttoned up the bodywork and started on my bike. In addition to everything we did on Re's bike, we also changed my front tube, as it had been losing 4-5 psi each day. After we put my bike back together, it refused to start. The engine would turn, and the spark was strong, but the spark plug was dry. No fuel, huh? We pulled the float bowl back off and found that it had fuel, so I removed the recently installed original pilot jet and found that it was plugged. I had been storing the jets in a small plastic box that also contained some other odds and ends, one of which was some safety wire that I had wrapped with a rubber band. Somewhere along the way, the rubber band melted and had apparently gotten into this jet. Since the work on the bikes had already taken much longer than anticipated, I reinstalled the fatter jet with the promise that I would clean this one someday soon and try it again. After we finished the oil change on my bike, it was time to fix my rear brake lever. The saga of my rear brake lever began between Morogoro and Dar Es Salaam, when I struck a rock and bent the lever back to the footpeg. While in Dar Es Salaam, I was able to get a long piece of pipe on the lever and bend it halfway back to its original position. Then yesterday, I hit a big pothole (or something) and again bent it back to the footpeg. Since I didn't have access to a big piece of pipe, I decided to instead remove the lever and beat on it with a hammer. The rear brake levers on the Symbas run underneath the right side of the engine, and the pivot for the rear brake lever is also the pivot for the center stand. In order to remove the lever, we first had to remove the exhaust. In order to remove the exhaust, we had to remove the bracket that holds the footpegs and sidestand. We put the bike on the center stand, removed the sidestand/footpeg bracket, removed the exhaust, reinstalled the sidestand/footpeg bracket, took the bike off the center stand, put it on the sidestand, and then removed the brake pedal (and the sidestand). Once we finally had the brake pedal in hand, I could really see just how ****ed it was.

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Unfortunately, the hammer I brought is only a ball peen hammer, and not a very heavy one. But since I did not have a torch and a vise, it was ...STOP...hammer time. We found a rock to beat it over, and while Re nervously held the lever, I whaled on it as hard as I could and eventually partially returned to its original curvature. The tube was starting to flatten, and I was afraid that it would crack, so I stopped short of ruining it completely. After wrestling with the center stand spring, we finally reinstalled the brake pedal and saw that it was about two thirds better. At least there is room for my toes now, and it does not hang down underneath the engine as far.

By the time we picked up the tools it was nearly 5:30 pm, and the sun was going down. I had never imagined it would take this long to finish the work and also forgot to put on sunscreen. The day was nice and cool and I guess that's why I didn't notice the sunburn rising on my knees, face, and neck. Ouch. The soap we had didn't seem to be doing much for the grime on our hands, so we resorted to gasoline to clean them before showering and heading out to dinner. After a delicious pasta dinner, we returned to the Y and our 47 pounds of blankets. Before sealing myself in bed, I decided to take the giardia medication just in case.

0 miles. 35 days in India at a cost of 1922 USD = 54.91 per day

12/19 Ooty Botanical Gardens
 

After another good night's sleep, another chilly morning, and another excuse not to get out of bed, we eventually hopped on the bikes and motored to the Ooty Botanical Gardens. The Gardens here were established in 1848 and it shows in the grand, old trees and expansive gardens. Re and I always enjoy botanical gardens and this was one of the nicest we've visited.

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It was very well maintained, well signed, and had an enormous variety of flowers, shrubs, and trees. Since it is winter here, many of the plants are not in bloom, but many were.

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We wandered the extensive grounds for several hours before stopping for coffee and to pose for many, many pictures. It was another cool day, so Re and I sat in the sun and talked for quite a while. Later, we made our way back to the Y to write some more ride reports and blog posts. Before dinner, we went to an internet cafe with the intent of posting our results, but the connection was so painfully slow that we gave up and just responded to a few emails. I won the coin toss, so we went to Dominos Pizza for dinner. Mmm, mediocre pizza.

3 miles.

12/20 Ride to Mysore
 

After another chilly night, we had to get up early to get on the road and braved the cold once again, on the way to the shower. After all the work we had just done on the bikes, I just checked the tire pressures to make sure they were okay, and then we started loading up the bikes. While we were loading the bikes, we met a couple from northwestern Idaho who are living in Chennai for three years and chatted about our experiences in India and the Pacific Northwest. We hit the road around 9:30 and quickly found out that the leaner pilot jet was the way to go. Re's bike was running well where mine was still wheezing a bit, so I leaned out my AF screw 3/8 of a turn, and it helped some.

The morning was cool and cloudy and made for a very comfortable ride except for the somewhat choppy pavement.

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The first part of the ride was absolutely breathtaking as we wound our way through misty pine forests and tea plantations, all with a backdrop of distant mountains. Later we rode through a tiger preserve, where we saw elephants, spotted deer, monkeys, and a mongoose, but no tigers. Since we were making good time, we decided to actually stop for lunch and had a quick bite at a Cafe Coffee Day.

We made it to Mysore around 3:00 pm, where my GPS did its best to send us the wrong way up several streets. We finally gave in to the pressure and rode counter-race up the street with the hotels we were interested in. Re returned shortly and led us to a very nice hotel that had a nice view of the Royal Palace gardens and free wifi in the room. Since we were unpacked by 3:30, we went out for a walk to the local bazaar. This may have been the nicest market we've ever visited anywhere. It was full of delicious looking fruits, tons of beautiful flowers, and assorted small housewares. While at the market, we picked up the best watermelon we've had in India so far (and we've eaten many). The Lonely Planet did not contain many food recommendations, so we opted for a room service dinner. The hotel restaurants had a good menu and reasonable prices, and I didn't want to tear myself away from the laptop for even the time it would take to eat dinner. We hadn't had usable wifi since we were in Goa, and I was enjoying catching up.


112 miles in 5.5 hours. My bike is running better at lower altitudes, but still not as well as Re's.

12/21 Touring Mysore
 

Mysore's big attraction is the Royal Palace, but it doesn't open until 10:00 am, so this morning we hoofed the 1.5 miles to the Railway Museum. The weather again, was beautiful, and we sure needed the exercise. So far, India has been remarkably free of scam attempts, but Mysore is proving to be the exception. On our way to the Railway Museum, I noticed a man hurriedly trying to catch up with us and then match our pace. Sure enough, he began a friendly, casual conversation and eventually asked us where we were going. When I replied that we were heading for the Railway Museum, he informed us that is was a very long way away, and we shouldn't walk there. Having heard this line many times before, I laughed it off and assured him that we could make it. He then looked surprised and informed us that the museum was closed today, which actually made me laugh out loud, since we've heard this one many times before as well. Seeing that he was getting nowhere with us, he stopped smiling, gave up, and left us to continue on our way.

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Funnily enough, when we reached the museum, it was open, and it really wasn't that far. I'm sure if we had taken the bait, our new friend would have had a nice shop he could have taken us to instead. The Railway Museum had several steam engines and some vintage rail cars for us to climb in and on.

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The centerpiece of the collection, however, was the Maharani's saloon. This car was built in 1899 to be used by the Maharani when she traveled and was a beautiful example of rail travel in a grander time. We are not train dorks, but we did thoroughly enjoy the museum.

Since it was nearing lunchtime, we walked back to the bazaar area for a thali lunch at a recommended restaurant. Re ordered the south Indian thali since she still is enjoying the hotter food. I however, went with the north Indian thali, figuring it would be less spicy. Oh, how wrong I was. Every individual dish was delicious, but Re was gracious enough to swap some of my bowls of magma for her delightfully mild ones. Tummies full, we made for the Royal Palace. On our way we ran into an autorickshaw driver who assured us it was at least two kilometers to the entrance, but he would be happy to charge us triple the going rate for a ride to the front gate. Since it wasn't two kilometers, and I'm not stupid, we declined his kind offer and soon found ourselves at the entrance.

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The Mysore Palace was the former residence of the Wodeyar maharajas and is an awfully impressive piece of architecture. The old palace burned down around the turn of the last century, so the one we toured was built in 1912.

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It's completely over the top, but while it's not my style, I can certainly appreciate the incredible craftsmanship and grand scale of the place. We spent several hours wandering the extensive grounds and oohing and aahing as we made our way through the palace itself. Later that evening, I saw that my parents were on Skype, so I chatted with them for an hour or so before Re and I headed out for dinner and then back to the room.


0 miles. It's good to be royalty.

12/22 Ride to Belur/Temple Tour
 

We hit the road around 9:00 am for an easy and pleasant ride to Belur. Since Ooty, we have enjoyed cooler temperatures and beautifully clear skies, and today was no exception.

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The ride today took us through gold and green farmland and everywhere we went, people were harvesting in the fields. We skirted several pretty lakes and crossed many rivers, all under azure skies. It really felt like fall today. The first half of the ride was more four-lane goodness, and even when we turned onto the two-lane road, the pavement was still good and it was lightly trafficked.

We made it to Belur by 1:30 pm and checked into the nicest hotel we've stayed in in India. The Hotel Mayura Velapura is a government run hotel that Re found on TripAdvisor. The building is new, the room was huge, spotless, had a very comfy bed, flat screen TV, and a lovely bathroom, all for 16 bucks. Belur's main attraction is the Channakeshava Temple.

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It is a massive Hoysala temple from the 1100s and is beautifully carved.

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Some of the stonework here is among the best we've ever seen, and it doesn't hurt that the subject matter for part of the temple were some scenes from the Kama Sutra.

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Re and I have really enjoyed the style of the Hoysala temples, and this is the best we've seen so far.

After wandering the temple for a couple of hours, our grumbling tummies told us it was time for a late, late lunch. We found an excellent thali place near the temple, where Re made a new best friend in the form of a three or four year old Indian girl named Devadara. Back at the room, we decided it would be best to have a room reservation for Christmas in Hampi. After calling several hotels, Re made a reservation at our second choice. Later that evening we were a little peckish, so we had a light dinner at the hotel's restaurant and called it a night.


110 miles in 4.5 hours. Bikes are running well.

12/23 Ride to Hampi
 

Today's ride looked to be our longest so far in India, so we left by 8:00 am. At first the ride was easy, except for my GPS, which insisted three times that we turn onto nonexistent roads. We finally made it to the NH 13 and the road went from okay to virtually unrideable. As we exited one small town, the formerly two-lane road turned into barely more than a single lane of “asphalt.” The surface of the road appeared as if a giant took handfuls of asphalt and threw them at the ground. In one teeth-jarring hour, we were only able to cover twelve miles. Fortunately, the road got better, but traffic also got much heavier.

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The road wound through more fields full of cotton, sunflowers, corn, and millet, and through many small villages, each with its own set of speedbumps. Though the ride was very dusty, we did see many colorful birds and herds of cows, sheep, and water buffaloes. Due to the nonexistent roads that we couldn't turn down, today's ride was more than 240 miles, and we finally made it to Hampi at around 5:30 pm. While we were passing through Hospet, a town seven miles before Hampi, I spotted a “sofa and seat maker,” and sure enough, there were motorcycle seats on display. I stopped long enough to mark it in the GPS before we continued on our way. We found our guesthouse and the rooms are good, but a little small for all our crap. While parking the bikes, I picked up the rear of Re's by the rack (that was repaired in Cochin) and found that it was broken again. Sigh. After an excellent dinner at the rooftop restaurant at the guesthouse, we collapsed into bed.


240 miles in 9.5 hours. Whether it was a result of the rough road or hitting the ground again, Re's rack is gonna need some more welding.

12/24 Touring Hampi
 

After yesterday's marathon ride, neither Re nor I was in a hurry to get out of bed. The combination of bad roads, speedbumps, and collapsed seat foam is hard on our butts and backs, and we ain't as young as we used to be. Sometime around 10:00 we made our way back upstairs for a big breakfast. Suitably fortified, we headed out on foot to see the local sights along the river.

Hampi is a Unesco World Heritage Site, full of the remains of the former capital city of an historical regional royal empire. By the 16th century Hampi was a thriving metropolis of about half a million people. By the mid-1500s, however, the city was razed by a confederacy of rival sultanates. The boulder-strewn landscape is dotted with ruins for miles around.

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We first walked up Hemakuta Hill, which is dotted with the remains of old temples and offers an expansive view of the Virupaksha Temple and the nearby Tungabhadra River. After surveying the sights, we made our way down through the small modern bazaar and to the monolithic Nandi statue. As you may recall, Nandi is Shiva's buddy, and statues of him are frequently seen on temple grounds. This Nandi was huge.

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After I got my picture taken sitting on Nandi's knee, we strolled around back to discover that this Nandi was (at least partially) anatomically correct.

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Jutting out the backside of Nandi was an enormous set of testicles, and I tried to convince Re that rubbing them would bring her good luck and no more crashes. I don't think she believed me, but she gave them a vigorous rub anyway. It can't hurt! After walking back around to the front, I noticed that Nandi seemed to be smiling just a little bit more.

Balls rubbed, we walked up over the hill to the remains of the Achyutaraya Temple and then made our way through the ruins of the Sule bazaar.

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After admiring the remains of the carvings and massive size of the ruins, we walked north to the river where we followed the path to lunch.

We had a delicious thali at a restaurant overlooking the river. Since we were both still a little tired from our marathon ride yesterday, we went back to the room to “relax” and plan our onward travel. Later that evening we walked out to look for an ATM but found none in town. We then toured the Virupaksha Temple, the working temple in town. It is one of Hampi's oldest remaining structures, having survived the destruction of the city nearly 500 years ago. We arrived around pooja time and joined the busloads of students who were there to worship.

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Since the sun was setting, we quickly made our way back up Hemakuta Hill to the sunset view point. After catching up on email at an internet cafe, we got some dinner and then worked on ride reports until bedtime.

0 miles.

12/25 Christmas in Hampi
 

Since it was Christmas day in a rather un-Christmas-y place, we decided to shower to the accompaniment of Christmas carols on the iPod. We walked back along the river to the same restaurant where we had lunch yesterday for a breakfast of fruit, muesli, curd, and honey and a cup of coffee. It wasn't my mom's Christmas coffee cake, but it was still pretty good. While we sat, we watched the kingfishers dive into the river for a holiday breakfast of their own and saw monkeys warming themselves in the sun.

After walking back to the guesthouse, we fired up the bikes and rode the eight miles into the nearby town of Hospet and hit the ATM for some much-needed cash. We then resumed our tour of Hampi's ruins with some of the outlying temples.

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Our first stop was the Queen's Bath, which was surprisingly elaborately decorated on the inside.

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We then rode the short distance to the Royal Center, where we wandered through another set of massive ruins and posed for 30 or 40 more photos.

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We got back on the bikes and rode to the Lotus Mahal, which was surrounded by a 25 foot high stone wall punctuated with massive guard towers.

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Next to the Lotus Mahal were the gigantic elephant stables that once housed the royal elephants.

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After a quick stop at the Underground Temple, we rode to the Vitalla Temple. Even though we were bordering on being “templed out,” this temple was worth the visit.

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Located in the courtyard was a massive, stone chariot that used to be mobile despite the fact that the axles and wheels are made out of stone as well. In some places, the carving on the temples was remarkably intact and crisp.

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Especially impressive were the sets of slender pillars that were carved out of a single piece of stone. Some of the pillars in the temple are musical and will generate a tone if tapped.

We finished temple touring by around 4:00 pm and decided to head back into Hospet to hit the liquor store (and find out about Re's Christmas present). On our earlier visit to Hospet Re spotted a liquor store next to the motorcycle upholsterer. (One drawback to temple towns in India is that they are almost always vegetarian and “dry.”) While I spoke to the seat upholsterer, Re went next door for some whiskey. The upholsterer said that if we come back tomorrow morning at 10:30, he could redo our seats while we wait. When I asked the price, he said 350 rupees each (7 USD). I opened my mouth to haggle on the price, but when I realized how little it actually was, I quickly shut my mouth.

When we got back to the guesthouse we decided to work on our First Need XL water purifier, since it was getting difficult to pump. We purchased some purified water and used it to backflush the canister. While trying to reassemble the unit, I dropped the canister on the floor from chest height. Crap. The instructions say that if the canister is struck hard, that you need to test it with dye to make sure it still works. The unit comes with a bottle of blue food coloring that we used for the test, but very unfortunately found that our canister was indeed ruined. Fortunately, we are carrying a backup filter, which we installed. Unfortunately, the canisters are only rated for 150 gallons, and that ain't gonna last us very long. After a delicious Christmas dinner of falafel, hummus, and pita, I called my parents on Skype to wish them a Merry Christmas. The we enjoyed a nightcap of Diet Coke and Indian whiskey and called it a night.

46 miles over some amount of time. Re's bike is definitely running better and getting better mileage with the leaner pilot jet. Tomorrow I will need to clean mine and install it.

12/26 New Seats and Rack Repair in Hospet
 

After another easy morning, we left for Hospet around 10:00 am and arrived at the upholsterer shortly before 10:30. After removing our seats, the upholsterer and I attempted to discuss what we wanted from our new seats. He eventually called for another man from a nearby business who spoke some more English. With his aid, we settled on the seats being approximately two inches thicker and new, black seat covers.

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With the design agreed upon, I removed Re's rack and started to look for a welder. When the upholsterer saw the rack, he asked if we needed welding and took us around the corner to a machine shop. He showed the rack to a rather startled looking employee, who said they could weld it for 80 rupees (1.60 USD). I left the rack at the shop and walked back to the upholstery shop.

While Re wandered off to do some shopping, I sat and watched the upholsterer work. He retrieved two pieces of foam from his collection that appeared to be used rear seats from a TVS bike. He motioned for me to test the foam, and it felt very dense. He then glued the foam directly to our stock seats, on top of the existing seat covers.

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He shaped the foam with a saw blade and foam files made out of metal cups with nail holes punched in them. After the foam was glued and shaped, he cut out and sewed new covers. Once they were stitched, he installed them over the new foam/old seat combo. This left us with two, very tall, sort of Frankenstein-y seats. In the meantime, the machine shop employee delivered Re's re-welded rack and only charged us 70 rupees for the work. Hopefully, this welding job lasts longer than the previous one. I was pleased to see that they laid some reinforcing beads on the underside of the rack as well. With the help of the upholsterer, I quickly installed the rack and the new seats, and Re and I hopped on to try them out. They are certainly taller, but felt firmer and much more comfortable. We paid the man and headed back to Hampi.

We both found the riding position to be more comfortable and speedbumps to be much less jarring. We were stopped at a police checkpoint on the short ride back to Hampi. This is the first time we've been stopped in our nearly six weeks of riding in India. The officer skeptically asked us if we had “all our papers in order,” and we did. We handed over our Oregon DLs, international driving permits, passports, and insurance documents. The officer looked surprised, and after a cursory glance, gave us our documents back and tried to send us on our way. By this time, several other officers had crowded around and asked us the usual questions about our trip and the bikes, much to the chagrin of the original officer. After five minutes or so, he chased off the other officers and whistled us on our way.

Back at the guesthouse, we cleaned the melted rubber band out of my original pilot jet and wheeled my bike to a vacant lot, where we installed it. Bikes set for tomorrow, we worked on ride reports until dinner. After another delicious dinner at our guesthouse's rooftop restaurant, I posted ride reports at the local internet cafe. Later, we had a late night dessert of cake and whiskey and called it a night.

12/27 Ride to Raichur, err Hyderabad
 

After a hearty breakfast (since we may not have lunch today) we loaded the bikes and hit the road before 9:00. Our plan for today was to ride to Raichur, which is about halfway to our actual destination of Hyderabad. Raichur is not listed in the guidebook, and a check of Wikitravel last night didn't reveal much information.

Just outside of Hampi, the GPS instructed us to turn down a narrow, country road, and cryptically said “Road to Ferry.” The road eventually dead-ended short of the river at a series of metal bars sticking up from the road. I could see motorbike tracks running in the sand between the metal bars and decided to see where they led. Sure enough, about 500 feet further, the sand road turned into a narrow cement ramp that twisted down to the water's edge. The river here was only about 500 yards wide, and we could see a small boat on the other shore loading passengers and bikes on board. It shortly arrived on our side of the river, and the fare collector asked us if we wished to cross. We said yes, and he informed us that it would be 100 rupees (two bucks) each. I was pretty sure that this was the foreigner price, but I really have wanted our bikes to ride on a small boat some time on this trip, so we agreed. The boat itself was maybe 22 feet long, 5 feet wide, and we had to back our bikes onto the boat.

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Two of the crew helped each of us get our bikes safely on board, where we sat on our new seats for the short journey across. A couple minutes later, we were riding the bikes back up a steep concrete ramp to the road. I was happy to be able to cross off one more experience from the list, and Re was happy to have made it safely (thank you, Nandi!).

The ride to Raichur was uneventful and wound through rural countryside for the entire way. The seats were very much better over the occasionally rough pavement and frequent speedbumps. If the ride to Hampi felt like fall, today's ride felt like spring. The weather was still cool, but everywhere, farmers were planting new crops of rice. New rice is a remarkably vivid green, and to me, seems to be the color of fresh. The other good news of the day was that my bike is running the best it has since we left the US. The newly installed jet has made for crisp throttle response and much better fuel mileage. When Re and I were running different jets, she was getting approximately 15 percent better fuel economy than I was, but now I am matching her mileage.

We made it to Raichur by about 1:00 pm and were underwhelmed to say the least. It was a dusty, sprawling town, with the remains of a fort up on a hill. Since we were making good time and Raichur looked like a bust, we decided to press on to Hyderabad, a further 120 miles up the road. We reached the outskirts of Hyderabad around 5:00 pm, and I immediately steered us onto the wrong road. Instead of staying on the Nh 7 into the center of town, I somehow managed to get us onto an elevated highway with few exits and nowhere to turn around. The GPS quickly recalculated our route, and I was glad to see the detour would only add about 4 miles. After 6 miles or so on the elevated road, we exited into the parking lot that is Hyderabad's surface streets during rush hour. We spent about 45 minutes riding the last 4 miles to the hotel and were relieved to finally get off the bikes around 6:00 pm. This has been another marathon day, and both Re and I are mentally fried and physically sore from the trip.

We checked into a big, lovely room and went out walking in search of dinner. We are not staying in the tourist ghetto and one big drawback is a lack of recommended restaurants in the area. About half a mile along the road from the hotel, I spied a young man walking toward us with a McDonald's cup. Re and I have both been jonesing for a beef hamburger (which we will probably never find in India) and were suddenly on the lookout for the golden arches. Sure enough, a few hundred yards up the road, we saw the McDonald's. Of course they have no beef, so I settled for a McSpicy Chicken and Re tried the Chicken Maharaja Mac (think spicy, pink chicken Big Mac). They both tasted good, and in our tired state, we didn't have the interest in looking any further. We went back to the hotel and collapsed into bed.

240 miles in nearly 9 hours. New seats are a huge improvement and my bike is running much better and using less fuel.

bierI enjoy your reports.... :clap:I wish you the best rides.....:palm:

12/28 Touring Hyderabad
 

After yesterday's hard ride we slept late and finally made our way down to breakfast around 9:00 am. After a delicious Indian buffet breakfast, we dropped our sore buns onto our new seats and eventually found our way to the Salar Jung Museum. Hyderabad is a city of over six million people and apparently they all decided to go for a ride at the same time we did, because this was one of the most fraught three-mile rides we've taken. Once at the museum, we queued up for tickets and discovered that many schools had brought their students to the museum for the day. Though the line wasn't terribly long, each person seemed to be buying somewhere between 60 and 80 tickets for the students and staff. A couple of people tried to cut in line in front of us, but we've been in India long enough now to know that yelling at queue jumpers is the way to handle the situation. We finally got our tickets and went around to the front of the museum to find hundreds of students lined up waiting to go through security and get into the museum. Bummer. The security guards motioned us to the head of the line, and it was our turn to queue jump.

Once we were inside the museum, it was bedlam. We attempted to view some of the exhibits in the first couple of rooms but could not get anywhere near to anything due to the crush of humanity, so instead we went to get coffee and wait for the crowds to die down. Twenty or so minutes later, the crowd had subsided somewhat, and we were able to restart our tour. The museum contains over 35,000 exhibits from all over the world that were collected by a local ruler in the early 1900s. The displays were generally divided into Indian artifacts, Western artifacts, and Eastern artifacts. The galleries we enjoyed the most were those that contained objects and artwork from China and Japan. We've discussed the possibility of visiting China several times, but visiting this museum in central India made up our minds for us- we will go there someday. Several hours later, we reached our USRDA of culture and battled our way back to the hotel.

Originally we had intended to go from the museum to the Chowmahalla Palace but felt too overwhelmed and tired to do so today. On out tour of India so far, we have enjoyed the smaller towns more than the big cities, and Hyderabad may be just too big for us. Back at the hotel, we had a late afternoon snack, and Re worked on blog posts until dinnertime. On our walk to dinner last night, we spotted the restaurant for tonight. After several days in temple towns, we were finally in a place where we could get meat. Kabab Corner had some delicious looking whole chickens in the rotisserie cabinet out front, and for around 6 USD, we got a whole chicken, an order of biryani rice, two naan, and two sodas. After stuffing ourselves silly on delicious food, we headed back towards the hotel and stopped for...more food. We are powerless to resist Bombay sweets, so Re picked a few of the especially good looking ones from the case, and we snacked on them on our walk back to the hotel. While I opted for some post-prandial relaxation, Re was feeling energetic, and after washing out several days of laundry, she decided to wash our Ortlieb bags as well.

6 hard damn miles.

12/29 Travel Interrupted
 

After another slow morning of breakfast and working on ride reports, we walked out into the daylight and to lunch. After lunch, our plan was to ride the five miles to Golconda Fort and the Qutb Shahi Tombs on the eastern side of town, but neither of us really felt like fighting the traffic to see more old things. I think we are getting dangerously close to archeological overload. So we retreated to the relative calm and quiet of our room once again, to work on ride reports/blog posts and plan our further journey northward.

Around 4:00 pm we walked approximately 1.5 miles to a recommended internet cafe, only to find that we needed some sort of an account to use their service. Sigh. So we walked 1.5 miles back to our hotel area and found a tiny, grubby hole in the wall internet cafe with bad monitors and sticky keys. However, the connection was fast and only cost 20 cents an hour. We posted ride reports, blog posts, and some pictures to the Smugmug account before researching the tiger parks north of Jabalpur. Bandhavgarh National Park was going to be our next stop, but in searching for accommodations we found out that everything was booked well through the new year. Well, now what? Discouraged, we headed for dinner and talked about the possibilities over mutton kebabs and chicken biryani. Goat, it's not beef, but at least it's not more chicken! We didn't come to any decision at dinner and decided to sleep on it.

0 miles

12/30 We Should Have Hit the Road Today
 

But we didn't. Instead, we spent the morning looking at the India and Nepal guidebooks and mapping out the next month or so. One drawback to having no itinerary is that occasionally, we have to pull one out of our asses. Over the past several days, we've begun looking at and discussing traveling to Nepal and Thailand and find ourselves looking more forward to that than to seeing more of India. We decided to skip the tiger parks in India and instead make time to see Royal Chitwan Park in Nepal. The new plan was to head north to Nagpur and then to Khajuraho to see the temples there. Afterwards, we may stop in Varanasi on our way to Sarnath. Sarnath is one of the four important cities for Buddhist pilgrims, and since the other three are all nearby, we decided to try to visit them all. The other three cities are Bodhgaya and Kushinagar in India and Lumbini in Nepal.

By the time we figured this out it was too late to leave for Nagpur today because it is over three hundred miles away. Instead we had a lunch of street food and then went back to the crappy but fast internet cafe, where we posted the rest of our photos to Smugmug and looked up accommodations for the next several days. I also spent some time on HUBB researching air freight from Kathmandu to Bangkok, Oriental city. (I'll take 80s music for two hundred, Alex) In anticipation of a couple of long rides over the next two days, we packed all our gear tonight and put a couple changes of underwear in our daypacks.

0 miles.

12/31 Long Ride to Nagpur/6 Months on the Road
 

We were out of bed by 6:00 am and on the road by 7:30. Even with a new tube, my front tire is still losing 4-5 psi every day. In anticipation of no lunch stop, we had a big breakfast before leaving. It was not raining when we left, but the sky looked threatening. Tropical storm Thane made landfall yesterday near Pondy and may be heading our way. One advantage to being on the road so early was that traffic was very light. We made it out of the city quickly and onto good, four-lane highway for the first 120 miles. We set our throttles at 45 mph and made good time until the road turned bad. The rest of the trip alternated between good, four-lane and really bad two-lane road.

About 70 miles south of Nagpur, we got stopped at a railroad crossing, and in the 15 minutes we waited, it started raining. When I was planning this trip, one of my goals was for all of our gear to be waterproof. But when we did the final packing in Portland, we found that the Pelicans and Ortliebs didn't hold all of our gear, so we pressed our old daypacks into service. These packs ride between our knees in the step through and are unfortunately, not waterproof. Before we left the US, we discussed buying small drybags to use instead, but we liked the convenience of the daypacks. My solution was a couple of “custom” raincovers from the Hefty bag company. While waiting for the train, we bagged up our daypacks and wondered if we would ever make it to Nagpur. Finally, the crossing gates were lifted and we rode the final 70 miles in the rain.

We made it to Nagpur by around 5:30 pm but could not find Central Avenue. I am finding that my OpenStreetMap maps of India are incomplete for some non-tourist cities. While the map of Nagpur displays many roads, they are all just named, “road.” We knew Central Ave should be near the train station, so we found the train station and then rode around. After about 30 minutes of not finding the hotel area, Re finally called, and with the help of the hotel and some passersby, we made it to the area. We pulled up in front of the hotel Re had called, only to find that they had no motorbike parking there, but we could park at the “Hotel Grand,” located a couple blocks away. We rode to the Hotel Grand and found nothing grand about it. It was down a dark and dingy street in an area where, if there were motorcycle chop shops in Nagpur, this is where they would be. We declined to park at the Hotel Grand and rode back around to Central Ave to look for better prospects. A local tout spotted us perusing the Lonely Planet and directed us to a nearby hotel where they allowed us to park our bikes in their front hallway. The evening was cool enough that we didn't need AC, but we decided to get it anyway to help dry our still damp gear overnight. Bikes secured, we went around the corner for a very excellent thali dinner and then to the local wine shop for a bottle of celebratory whiskey with which to toast the new year. After today's long ride and facing another one tomorrow, we decided around 9:30 pm that it was midnight somewhere, toasted the new year, and went to bed.

340 miles in 9.5 hours. Today was a day full of death. We saw a couple of dead cows, several dead dogs and goats, and three what must have been fatal accidents. In the six months since we began, we have covered 13,800 miles and 18 US states, nipped into 1 Canadian province, rode through 7 African countries, and 6 Indian states. All on 100cc bikes!

1/1 Ride to Jabalpur
 

When we were planning this northward trip in Hyderabad, we optimistically scheduled two days for the ride to Khajuraho. But since the distance remaining to Khajuraho was at least as far as yesterday's marathon ride, it would require excellent roads today. We rolled the bikes out of the front hallway just before 7:30 am and into the rainy street in front of the hotel. A rainy day wasn't going to help our cause either. We also left without breakfast today because nothing was open anywhere near the hotel. The traffic leaving the city was very light and allowed us to reach the 4-lane highway quickly.

The first 50 miles or so of the ride found our speedometer needles pointing at the 45 mph mark, and then the highway abruptly ended. We now found ourselves on the absolutely worst road I have ever ridden on. And it was still raining. While we zigged and zagged our way down the road trying to avoid the craters that we could, we had plenty of time to enjoy the teak trees and cool, fall air. We made our way through a twisty, mountainous stretch and soon found ourselves at the end of an Indian-Mexican standoff. Ahead of us on the one and a half lane road was a string of lorries that we, like all good Indian motorbike riders, rode past. After passing between forty and fifty stationary lorries, we came to the source of the problem. Fanned out across the road and deep, muddy shoulders, were three northbound lorries trying to fit through a single-lane wide gated checkpoint. They were facing three southbound trucks arrayed in the same manner, also trying to get through the single-lane wide gate. Three guards with four foot long batons were trying to un**** the situation. The problem was, apparently, no one could back up because they were blocked by the trucks behind them. After assessing this circlejerk for a few seconds, we took to the muddy shoulder and squeezed our way past. I was glad we had our new, more aggressively treaded rear tires installed, as we “powered” our way through the six-inch deep sticky mud. My biggest fear riding through was losing traction and having to put my feet down in deep, deep mud. There's mud, and then there is Indian mud. Besides cricket, the national pastime in India seems to be relieving yourself in public. In the city, and the small towns, in the country, you cannot ride or walk more than five miles without seeing at least one man or boy peeing. Before coming to India, I had never actually seen anybody poop. Since I've been here, I have seen at least ten people pooping, usually on the side of the road. So it is my presumption that the mud here is at least fifty percent pee and/or poop. Needless to say, I really didn't want to put my boots in it.

Clear of the bottleneck, we lurched and bounced our way back down the other side of the hill at no more than 20 mph. And it was still raining. After another twenty miles or so, I spotted a government-run roadside hotel and restaurant and decided it was time for a warm drink. We pulled in and ordered coffee, toast, and fried eggs for brunch. While we waited for our food, we consulted the map and guidebook and decided that our new goal for today was Jabalpur, which is approximately halfway to Khajuraho. The service was not speedy, but the food was good, and forty-five minutes later, we rejoined the “road.” After bouncing along for another ten miles or so, the road suddenly got better and the rain stopped! The rest of the way to Jabalpur, the road alternated between four-lane, buttery goodness, and two lane road that appeared to have been cluster bombed. All the riding in the rain and mud had left our bikes very muddy. At one refueling stop, I wished Re a Happy New Year and asked her how we were going to celebrate. After discussing various options, Re suggested we to something really dirty. Always one for a good time, I asked what she had in mind, and she said, “Wash the bikes.” Awww.

We made it to Jabalpur by around 3:30 pm and were happy to have survived the last five miles into the city. The roads here are chaotic, and Re and I thought that several times people were actively trying to kill us. Even though Jabalpur's streets were not identified in my GPS this time either, we were less lost and found our hotel rather quickly. We decided to skip washing the bikes today and celebrate the New Year indoors in a more festive manner in one of the other ways we discussed. Later that evening, we again took our lives into our hands and walked four blocks through Jabalpur traffic to dinner.

185 miles in 8 hours. What do you call potholes that span the width of the road and are 8”-12” deep?

1/2 Ride to Khajuraho
 

For some reason, the alarm I set in my iPhone for 5:30 this morning did not go off. The return of iOS's previous New Year's alarm problems? Fortunately, Re woke up on her own at about 6:30 am, and sounded an alarm of her own. We rushed around and made it on the road by 7:45 am, showered, but again, without breakfast. The morning was very overcast, but at least it wasn't raining, and again, leaving early allowed us to beat the morning traffic. The six mile or so ride back to the Nh 7 was easy and uneventful, but then we found the Nh 7. The GPS said we'd be on the Nh 7 for about 3.5 miles, and what a 3.5 miles it was. The pavement here was almost unrecognizable, as it was more pothole than asphalt. Some of the potholes were at least a foot deep, and we found ourselves shifting between first and second gears as we climbed in and out of the craters. It took us more than twenty minutes to cover that 3.5 miles.

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We eventually turned left onto the Nh12a and were greeted by a strip of bitumen approximately 1.5 lanes wide that was crumbling at the edges. Khajuraho was looking less and less likely with every mile. The edges of the road were gently potholed, but there was a blissfully smooth line right down the middle. For the first thirty miles or so, we were able to keep our speed between 35 and 40 mph and only had to slow occasionally for broken pavement. Then there was a stretch where the pavement was mostly broken, but the potholes were a gentle 1”-3” deep.

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After riding through some beautiful farmland, we found ourselves at the foot of a hilly area, where the road once again, became smooth, and 5 mph was doable. The downside was that it had begun to mist and get foggy. The temperature today wasn't warm to begin with, and the mist and fog made it downright chilly. After several miles, we made it to the top of the hill, where the road turned to shit again. Due to the precipitation, the up to 1 foot deep fissures that ran across the road were now also muddy. From then on it took us several hours of slipping and sliding in the mud and dodging and weaving as many of the bomb holes as we could.

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The damp was soaking through our gloves, and cold air was sneaking past our jackets. Eventually, both Re and I began to shiver. While I stopped to fill up my jerrycan with petrol, Re unpacked one of the Ortliebs to find our fleece pullovers. With our fleeces on, we felt better, but it was still a damn cold ride.

The GPS was counting down our time on the Nh12a, and I found myself praying that the Nh75 would be a much, much better road. I should know better by now. The roads in India are like a continuing series of boots to the groin. They tease you with the promise of something better, and then, WHAM! Turning onto the Nh75, we were met with a steep hill so thoroughly coated in mud that I still have no idea whether there was asphalt beneath. As we bounced and jolted our way up the hill into some small town, I felt my steering go funny. The unmistakable feel of a flat front tire. Really, now? I spotted a relatively dry patch of ground in front of somebody's house and pulled into their front yard. I looked down, and sure enough, my front tire was completely flat. This was the brand new, India-made tube that we had installed in Ooty, about a thousand miles ago. While I pulled out the tarp, Re got out the tools, and we got to work.

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As we started working, a crowd appeared. We eventually had at least twenty-five spectators ranging in age from six to sixty. The front wheel was completely encrusted in mud, but we dismounted it and removed the tube. While we were removing the tube, the problem became obvious. Once I unscrewed the nuts from the valve stem, the valve stem immediately cocked at a 45 degree angle. The tube (and tire) had rotated on the rim and had ripped the valve stem halfway out of the tube. Well there's your problem. We reinstalled the good, used tube we removed in Ooty, and with the help of a friendly local, we reinstalled the front wheel on the bike. After answering some pantomimed questions about the bikes and our gear and taking a few photos of our new best friends, we said Happy New Year and headed north again.

The rest of the way to Khajuraho, the road alternated between pretty good and “oh my god, can you still call it a road if more than 75 percent of it is potholes or dirt?” The other highlight of the day was that both Re and then I were hit by buses. While riding down one stretch of bumpy road, Re felt a looming presence behind her and then her bike suddenly lurched forward. She turned to find a gigantic, yellow bus that had just rear-ended her. She and the bike suffered no damage, and Re kept the bike on two wheels (thanks again, Nandi!). My incident occurred less than fifteen minutes later, when an oncoming bus unexpectedly moved into my lane, and I found myself sandwiched between the bus and a crowd of pedestrians. My mirror scraped half the length of the bus, and just as I cleared the end of the bus, it brushed my handlebar and gave me a big wobble. Again, no damage to me or the bike. But that pair of underpants is gonna need some extra scrubbing.

At nearly 5:30 pm, we turned off the main road for the final six miles to Khajuraho, and found ourselves on a four-lane, divided, well paved road. Where has this road been for the last two hundred miles?!? approximately three miles outside of town, we got stopped at another train crossing. As the sun sank lower in the sky, we waited, and waited while the train pulled across the intersection, disgorged a man and a chair, and then slowly returned from whence it came. We stopped at a hotel on the near side of town and found it to our liking. After unpacking the bikes and warming up a bit, we went out for a rather disappointing dinner, doubly disappointing since it was our only meal of the day.

210 miles in 10.5 hours. 20 mph average- a new low for this trip.

1/3 Easy Day in Khajuraho
 

Because of the beating we took yesterday, we decided to take it easy today. After a late, lazy morning in bed and some room service chai, we eventually got cleaned up and walked out to greet the day. Our guesthouse was located a little outside the central part of town so we walked the third of a mile to breakfast. Since it was after 10:00 am we initially had the restaurant to ourselves but were soon joined by a father and son from New Jersey. India so far, has been remarkably devoid of Americans, as this was only the second pair of Americans we've spoken with since arriving seven weeks ago. We spent the better part of an hour chatting over breakfast, exchanging travel tales and tips. Hunger sated, we walked back to the guesthouse and spent an hour or two working on ride reports.

Sometime after 1:00 pm we went in search of lunch but didn't find anything that struck our fancy. What we did find was way too many touts who wouldn't take no for an answer. The touts here are the especially irritating kind who don't just come out and say what they want. Every conversation begins with, “Hello. Where you come from? I have a friend who lives there. How are you enjoying Khajuraho? Have you seen x, y, and z? And oh, by the way, would you like to come into my shop? No? How about an ayurvedic massage? No? Do you need a taxi?” and on, and on, and on. We also ran into one particular racket that the Lonely Planet did warn us about. This is the “teacher,” who happens to be at lunch and invites you back to “his” school to meet the students. After you meet the students and you've been charmed, then comes the request for a big donation “to help the children.” The scam of it is, that the “teacher” isn't a teacher. Instead, he is just a scammer who splits whatever you donate 50/50 with the school. On our walk to the old village we ran into such a “teacher” and enjoyed listening to his pitch for a while. As soon as he said he was a teacher, Re and I just smiled at each other. We declined his offer to visit the school and left him standing on the corner.

After shaking him off, we walked to see some of the temples in the eastern group. Khajuraho's claim to fame is its three groups of World Heritage-listed temples that were built between AD 950 and 1050 by the Chandela dynasty.

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What makes the temples here special, besides the excellent craftsmanship, is the subject matter of much of the temple decoration.

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In and amongst the gods and goddesses are a whole lot of sculptures of nearly naked or naked women and erotic scenes purported to be from the Kama Sutra. Of the eastern group, we saw the Vimana and the Javari Temples, which while beautifully sculpted, lacked the promised gymnastics in stone that I came to see. The form of the temples and style of decoration is again, completely different from anything we've seen elsewhere in India.

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Some areas of the temples are covered in complex geometric patterns, while others are flat expanses of stone engraved with scroll work. And boobs.

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We then walked south to an area of Jain temples. Jainism is another old religion that arose in India about the same time as Buddhism. The main tenets of Jainism seem to be asceticism and nonviolence, and these temples reflected that restraint.

Having had our daily dose of culture (and boobs of the stone variety) we headed back to the guesthouse.

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After yesterday's ride, our bikes were covered in mud, and earlier we spied a hose with which to wash them. While I started moving the bikes around, Re went to the room to run a bucket of hot water and get a rag. The manager of the hotel saw me moving the bikes and asked if I wanted them washed. Oh really? I asked how much that might cost. He replied, “fifty rupees per bike.” Hmmm, so for 2 USD, neither of us has to get muddy, wet, or cold. Sold! While the most junior hotel employee got to work on the bikes, Re and I sat in the sun, and she worked on some blog posts and pointed at spots he missed.

All too soon, the sun started to set and we headed back inside, leaving our mostly mud-free bikes to air dry. We asked at the hotel for a restaurant recommendation, and they pointed us to a small restaurant further away from town. When we arrived at the restaurant, we were pleased to see almost all the tables filled with locals. We had a delicious and inexpensive thali dinner and some excellent chai. After a quick stop at the liquor store, we went back to the room to do laundry and have nightcap.

0 miles.

1/4 More Temples in Khajuraho
 

Early to bed and early to rise and up the road for breakfast again. After breakfast we made our way to the western group of temples, which are the crowning jewels of Khajuraho.

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Here we toured the Varaha Temple, dedicated to the boar incarnation of Vishnu.

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We also saw the Lakshmana Temple, where we discovered that even a thousand years ago, good things came in threes (and sometimes, fours). In addition to the erotic carvings, the temple is also covered with battalions of soldiers. Apparently the Chandelas were lovers and fighters. We next visited the Kandariya-Mahadev Temple, which at ninety feet long, is the largest in town.

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The temple is covered with 872 statues, most of which are nearly three feet tall.

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Several of these statues depict what you and three of your good friends can do if one of you is standing on your head.

After a quick stop at the Mahadeva Temple, we viewed the Devi Jagadamba and the Chitragupta Temples, which were similarly decorated. The humorous highlight of the day came as we admired a carving of a woman and two of her male friends, when an Indian woman walked up, pointed at the image we were viewing, and said what sounded like, “horse.” Re and I kind of skeptically looked at each other and then smiled and nodded as she repeated it again. After she walked off, Re and I giggled and tried to figure out whether she said, “horse” or “whores.”

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Our final stops were at the Vishvanath Temple and adjacent Nandi shrine. The Vishvanath Temple was another amazing work of stone carving, again completely covered in intricate sculptures.

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After once again walking around in amazement, Re decided to seek Nandi's further help by repeating her ball-polishing method of worship.

Completely templed out, we went to lunch. After a very late lunch of momos and vegetable tempura, we walked back to the guesthouse to finish up the most recent round of ride reports and blog posts. Since we loved our dinner last night, we decided to repeat it tonight. Later we went to an internet cafe to post the results of our earlier work and upload all the pictures we just took to Smugmug.

0 miles. But lots of boobs. (Hopefully the smattering of non-prurient images and archaeological commentary will save me from the wrath of the mods. )

1/5 Ride to Sarnath
 

I had scheduled us for another ambitious ride today, so once again, we needed to get on the road early. Around 7:15 am, we walked out to load up the bikes and were greeted by a very damp morning. The bikes were covered in condensation, and the fog reduced visibility to a half mile or less.

As we pulled out onto the road we could see the sun trying to struggle through but not succeeding. The first six miles were on the incongruous four-lane, divided road, that runs only between Khajuraho and the exceptionally shitty, two-lane Nh75.

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As expected, the Nh75 eastbound was as bad as the section we had ridden a few days earlier. Unexpectedly, after twenty-five miles or so, the cold and damp must have gotten to my brain, because in the distance, I saw what looked like brand new asphalt. Out here? It can't be. But sure enough, smooth, black, brand new road. We immediately upped our pace and made quick work of the ride as far as Satna.

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The sun was still trying to shine, but this part of the ride was a slightly surreal cruise through misty farmlands and small towns.

The traffic picked up again once we reached the outskirts of Satna, and we soon rejoined the conga line of trucks, buses, cars, motorbikes, farm tractors, and oxcarts, all making their way through town. While we were stuck in a row of traffic, I could hear a vehicle behind us continuously blowing its horn, and I glanced in my mirror to see yet another bus aggressively making its way through the line of traffic. I focused my attention back forward and then a few seconds later, heard the unmistakeable sound of a motorbike sliding along the pavement. Oh no. I looked in my rear view mirror to see Re and her bike laying in the road and a big yellow bus stopped behind her. I came to a stop maybe fifty feet from where Re lay and started running back towards her. I yelled to see if she was okay and asked what happened. She yelled back that the bus had hit her. By this time the bus had pulled into the oncoming lane, and the driver quite apparently had no interest in hanging around. Several other people ran up to help Re, and they were yelling and pointing at the bus too. I ran up to the bus and grabbed hold of the side mirror, yelling at the driver and his assistant to stop. As they kept driving, I struck the side window with my fist and only succeeded in bruising my hand. The side door of the bus was open, and I attempted to jump on board, but they were already moving too quickly for me to make the leap. I just wanted to talk to them, honestly.... As they drove away, I was doubly surprised to see that this big yellow bus was a school bus. Nice.

As the red mist cleared, I suddenly remembered that my lovely wife was laying in the road with a motorcycle partially on top of her last I saw her. Oh yeah. By the time I reached the bike, Re had been helped up by several onlookers, and they had also picked up her bike. I pushed my way through the crowd to Re and asked if she was hurt. She said she was okay and that she had hit the top of her head, her wrist, and her shoulder. When she took her helmet off, I took a quick look in her eyes to see that her pupils were both the same size and then had her look up at me so I could see (without her knowing) that her pupils dilated equally and smoothly. One of the onlookers understood that she said something about her head and sat her down on the side of the road and administered a head massage. Re again assured me she was okay, just shaken and mad, but she did look scared. I checked over her bike and the only damage I found was a bent right footpeg and some more cracks in her right mirror. Two of the things that have impressed me most this trip are how well both Re and the Symbas survive crashes. Sturdy. A bigger crowd had gathered now and included people who hadn't seen the accident and were instead interested in asking us the usual trip questions. We didn't really want to take the time to chat, so after Re again assured me she was alright, we left the scene.

A mile or so later, I noticed that Re was lagging behind and pulled over to see if she was okay. She wasn't. There were tears rolling down her face and she was quietly sobbing. I asked if she wanted to cut today's ride short and spend the night in Sarnath, but she said she just needed a minute. I (and many of you) remember the first bike accident that was in no way my fault. When I started riding on the street and on the track, it was easy to convince myself that all accidents could be avoided and that I was in control. I still remember vividly the feeling I got during my second season of road racing, when I was struck by another rider as he was crashing next to me. Up until then I had told myself that as long as I rode my own race and ran my own pace, that crashing was avoidable. After this incident, I very nearly gave up racing, and my false sense of security was destroyed. This seemed to be what Re was struggling with now. She said that she didn't feel that there was anything else she could have done to avoid the accident and was feeling out of control. We talked for a few minutes, and I said that if she wanted to end the trip now and go home, that we could ship the bikes via train to Calcutta or Delhi and fly them home. She immediately said no, she wasn't going to let this beat her, and dammit, she wanted to go to Nepal.

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A few miles later, Re spotted an Indian Coffee House, where we stopped for eggs and coffee. It was here that we discovered the other casualty of the accident. Re has been carrying our camera in her jacket pocket and she had landed on it when she hit the ground. The LCD screen is cracked and doesn't display anything anymore. The camera still beeps and acts like it's taking pictures, there's just no way to compose or view the results. Bummer. By the end of brunch she seemed less shaken, and we continued toward Sarnath. To make the day's ride even less fun, the beautiful road that we came into town on did not extend any further. The roads from Sarnath all the way to the border with Uttar Pradesh were pretty bad, and our speeds dropped accordingly.

Once we reached the border of Uttar Pradesh, the roads got really bad. Shortly after we crossed the border, we found ourselves zigzagging our way up and then back down a decent-sized mountain. Uttar Pradesh is sparsely populated and, except for a few towns, not on the tourist trail. We needed to make it to Sarnath tonight. We found ourselves racing the sun (which had made an appearance by now) and we were losing. The sun finally set around 5:30 pm, and we rode the final twenty-five miles in the dark. Over the next hour and a half we bounced and lurched our way over the rough roads, in between slow moving vehicles, and surrounded by dust and smoke. I thought that slowing down once the sun set would be the best way to stay safe, but the riders and drivers around us saw no reason to do the same. They simply turned on their high beams and drove with the same kamikaze zeal. Happy to be alive, we finally made it to our guesthouse in Sarnath around 7:15 pm. After a too-expensive, not too good dinner, Re took a couple of ibuprofens, and we crawled into bed and cuddled up tight.

270 miles in 11.75 hours. I did do a full to empty tank of gas run and got 103 miles out of 1.04 gallons. This was a hard, hard day, and I will not be planning to cover so many miles a day anymore in India. In a related note, Re and I are disappointed in Nandi.

1/6 Touring Sarnath
 

After yesterday's events and hard, hard ride, we were both very tired and sore this morning. Adding to our discomfort was the fact that it was chilly overnight, and we woke to a damp and foggy morning. After warming up and loosening our muscles in the hot, hot shower, we had some breakfast at our guesthouse. We waited in the room for the fog to lift and caught up on some reading.

Around 10:00 the fog had somewhat dissipated, so we walked out to make a loop of the town. Unlike all the other temple towns we've visited in India so far, Sarnath is not a Hindu town, but Buddhist. Sarnath is where Buddha came to preach after achieving enlightenment in Bodh Gaya.

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Our first stop was the Chaukhandi Stupa, where Buddha met his first disciples. The stupa is now largely just a humongous pile of bricks upon which a Mughal tower was constructed in the 16th century. Re and I walked the path around the mist covered stupa, and while there wasn't much to see, we both found the site very peaceful. We sat and talked for a while before continuing on. Our next stop was to be the Archaeological Museum, but today is Friday, and of course, the museum is open Saturday to Thursday. Sigh. Instead, we stopped for lunch and had another delicious thali.

After lunch we continued on to the Dhamekh Stupa, where Buddha preached his first sermon. The grounds surrounding the stupa contain the remains of a huge old monastery and the Ashoka Pillar.

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The stupa was an impressive sight at nearly a hundred feet high and was striking in its simplicity compared to Hindu monuments.

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The only colorful thing here were the thousands of Tibetan prayer flags and the gold leaf that pilgrims rub on auspicious spots. Next we stopped at the Mulgandha Kuti Vihar, which is a modern Buddhist Temple notable mostly for its bodhi tree. This tree is said to be an offspring from the original tree under which Buddha attained enlightenment. Late afternoon, we went back to the guesthouse, ate some fruit, and Re did some blogging. Just before 6:00 pm we returned to the Vihar to listen to a group of monks chant, and then we went to dinner. All in all, this was a very peaceful day and a perfect antidote to yesterday.

0 miles.

1/7 Ride to Bodh Gaya
 

When the alarm went off at 6:00 am I nervously crawled out of bed and into the chilly, damp air to peek out the curtains and check the weather. Overnight I heard rain on the roof and was nervous about what I would find. While it had rained some overnight, it had stopped and the ground was drying. Today's ride should only be 150 miles or so, mostly on the Nh2. This is the highway that runs between Delhi and Calcutta, and I had high hopes that it would be a good road. We wanted to get into Bodh Gaya early in the day since this is high season and the time when Buddhists from around the world, especially Tibet, come on pilgrimages. We decided to continue with our original plan and leave by 7:30 am despite the fog and damp roads.

We rolled out the front gate at around 7:45 and were greeted by bad roads that were now covered with slick mud. We made our way back past Varanasi and across the Ganges River, and seventeen miles later, to the Nh2. As we hoped, the Nh2 was a four-lane divided highway, and the good road surface allowed us to cruise between 40 and 45 mph for the next several hours. The day remained chilly and damp, and the sun again struggled to burn through the fog. Periodically, enough of the sun's rays made it through to briefly warm us up, but too soon, it was chilly again. We made it to Bodh Gaya by 1:00 pm and were greeted by a huge traffic jam and a sea of monks in maroon robes. The main road into town was blocked by policemen, and my GPS does not contain the minor roads in Bodh Gaya. Not wanting to fight our way into town to find that the hotels there were full, we pulled out the cell phone and called the local tourist office. They informed us that because some guy by the name of Dolly-something was in town, that all the rooms were full.

Yes, the Dalai Lama is in town for the 32nd Kalachakra Initiation. I don't know what it is, but it is clearly a big deal. My plan was to ride to Gaya, the next town north, and look for a room there, but on the way out of town, I spotted a hotel that didn't look too busy and pulled in. Re went in and found out that yes, in fact, they were full, but had a house available for 5,000 rupees (100 bucks). She laughed and I started to ride off, but a man yelled, wait wait wait! He asked Re what our budget was, and she tossed out 1,000 rupees. He told us to wait a minute and disappeared back into the hotel. A few minutes later, he returned and motioned for Re to follow him around to the back of the hotel. They reappeared a few minutes later and Re said we had a room for the night for 1,000 rupees. We rode behind the hotel to an apartment building(?) across the alley and were shown a double room that we took for the night.

Bikes put away and locked up, we walked out in search of lunch. What we found was a group of monks sitting around a momo steamer and thought, if it's good enough for Granddad, it's good enough for me. And it was. Ten steamed veg momos for 20 rupees (40 cents) and a glass of chai for an additional 10 rupees. So for 1.20 USD Re and I enjoyed a plate of momos and a chai each. We then wandered up into town and marveled at the crowds of thousands and thousands of pilgrims and monks from all over the Buddhist world. Indeed the Dalai Lama is in town and will be speaking tomorrow to the assembled masses. Since it was impossible to get near any of the major temples or monasteries, we spent the afternoon instead wandering around and people watching. Later, we had a dinner of fried noodles at another street stall, followed by dessert of another plate of steamed momos. Yummy! And budget friendly. This is the kind of eating that we really miss from southeast Asia; so much of the street food is simple but delicious. We later stopped at the local liquor store for a small bottle of whiskey and then went back to the room to toast the Dalai Lama (heresy, you say?)

165 miles in 5.5 hours of relatively easy riding.

1/8 Hello Dalai!
 

We woke to another cool, damp, and foggy morning and made our way out into the mist for breakfast. We stopped at the same place we had dinner last night for fried eggs, freshly made chapati, and a couple of glasses of chai. We then walked the mile or so into the main part of town towards the Maha Bodhi Temple. The scene in Bodh Gaya today was an odd mix of sacred pilgrimage and county fair. In and amongst all the robed pilgrims were thousands of street vendors selling everything from housewares and clothes to kids' toys, and carnival rides. Along the road into town, there were maybe a half dozen simple kiddie rides set up, but the best of all, was the “Sri Rama Break Dance.” This was a smaller and crappier version of what in the US would be called the Tilt-A-Whirl. But unlike the other rides, it was motorized rather than hand-cranked. Re and I stopped to watch as a small group of street urchins looked longingly at the ride while a fortunate child's dad paid for his ticket. These street kids were essentially dressed in rags and were just a few of the hundreds that we had seen begging on the streets here. Since there were only a couple of kids on the ride, the operator was not going to start it until he got a few more butts in the seats. Re and I looked at each other, and she saw me reaching towards the pocket I keep money in and said, “Do you wanna make some kids' day?” We walked over to the ticket booth and gestured to the kids to see if they wanted a ride. First it was three, then five, then six, and finally, eight. We paid the 160 rupees (about 3 USD) and gave the tickets to the little outstretched hands. Several of the kids yelled “Thank you” as they raced for the gate. We watched for a few minutes as they found their seats and the ride started. It was very funny to see the wide variety of expressions once the ride started- everything from big smiles to vaguely frightened looks, and even a few tears. Two of the girls smiled at us and waved from the ride. This may have been the best three bucks we have spent in India. We have seen too many kids like these sleeping on the streets and eating what looks like garbage to me.

As we neared the temple and the grounds of the Kalachakra Initiation, we found tens of thousands of people sitting on every available surface (but mostly almost all of the road) so that they could see the Dalai Lama on the Jumbotrons. It was neat to see all of the pilgrims from all over the Buddhist world in their culture's robes, sitting together and listening so intently. The problem with everybody sitting on the road is that it only left a narrow path to walk through, and just before we reached the temple, we ran into a particularly narrow section with too many people trying to pass in both directions. At one point in time, Re and I found ourselves forced to the edge of the scrum and fighting to stay on our feet. We did finally make it through without falling into the seated crowds, but we decided to take a different route back later in the day. The crowds thinned as we finally made it to the Maha Bodhi Temple, and we had a relatively easy time getting inside. The temple is a World Heritage listed site, where Buddha attained enlightenment under the bodhi tree. This temple also has a descendant of that original bodhi tree planted in the place where the original one stood.

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The temple grounds are huge and beautiful, and we spent a pleasant hour or two here. Another interesting thing to see here was the various ways in which adherents of the different Buddhist sects worship. We saw people rubbing gold leaf on statues, placing small piles of rice around the temple, setting out individual flowers, floral arrangements, and garlands of flowers, prostrating themselves in different ways, pressing their foreheads or tapping their prayer beads against auspicious sites, walking the circular path, or simply sitting in quiet meditation. Since Nandi had let us down, we picked up some prayer beads at the gift shop and had them blessed in the main temple.

It was now early afternoon, so we decided to get some lunch. We found a restaurant that was supposed to cater to travelers' tastes, and I had a peanut butter and banana sandwich on brown bread and some fried momos, while Re had veg thukpa (a Tibetan soup). After lunch we shuffled our way back through the seated masses who were still watching the Dalai Lama on the big screen until we made our way down Buddha Road and Temple Street.

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There we stopped to visit the Thai Monastery, the Bhutanese Monastery, the Indosan-Nipponji Temple, and the 80-foot Buddha. It was again fascinating to see the different styles of each temple, from the very restrained Japanese, to the exuberant Bhutanese Temple.

By now we had seen what we wanted to see and were getting a little overwhelmed by the crowds, so we headed back to the room to spend a little while working on ride reports. During one break from writing I stepped outside and noticed a monk looking over our bikes. He spoke some English and asked about our trip. When I told him we were heading to Nepal next, he looked very concerned and said that area was “dangerous.” He also said that we needed to get something (I did not recognize the word) and further explained that it was the white fabric that we had seen at the temples. He said that we should get some of it and have it blessed and tie it to our bikes to help ensure a safe journey. Huh. So, we hit the road again. We walked back into town, found some of the cloth, took it to the main temple, and had it blessed. Might not help, but it can't hurt. On the way back to the room, we stopped at a couple of different places and made a dinner out of a variety of yummy snacks.

0 miles.

1/9 One in a Billion
 

Our destination for today is Kushinagar, another town on the Buddhist circuit. The OpenStreetMaps on my GPS have not been as reliable in northern India and for some reason, would not route us north of Patna, instead wanted us to backtrack west nearly to Varanasi before heading north. We decided to head to Patna and hoped the GPS would pick up the route again on the other side of the Ganges (which seemed to be the problem area). It was another damp night followed by another damp, chilly morning, but at least the fog wasn't as bad. Not knowing how far it actually was to Kushinagar, we left at 7:15 am. We lost the highway about ten miles up the road in Gaya, and the GPS led us down back alleys to dead ends before we figured out where the highway actually was. The GPS showed us to be either west or east of the highway we were on until we hit another town, where we found ourselves once again, wandering the back alleys trying to find the highway.

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Somewhere on the Nh83 (?), we pulled over to take a picture to commemorate our 15,000 miles on this trip. We made it to Patna, where the traffic was stop and go and extremely heavy, but we did make it across the Ganges by around noon. Sure enough, the GPS picked up the road again and we found that we still had 150 miles to go, but at least the roads were good. My initial hope that we would be making good time due to the good roads was soon dashed by the number of small towns and speed bumps along the way. We could literally clear the last set of speed bumps in a town, accelerate to 45 mph, hold the throttle open for 90 seconds, and then have to start braking for the next town and next set of speed bumps. It was a slow and frustrating ride.

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The weird scene of the afternoon was when we came upon a small tailback of vehicles that we dutifully rode around and into a group of shouting and yelling women and children holding hand-lettered signs on bamboo poles. There was one motorbike rider ahead of us who apparently understood what was going on and got off his bike to speak with the somewhat angry mob that was blocking the highway in both directions. I have no idea what the protest was about, maybe somebody who reads Hindi can figure it out from out pictures. After a minute or two, the motorbike rider started gesticulating towards us, then himself, then to us, pleading his (and our) case. About this time, a couple of men appeared in the crowd and also spoke to the woman who seemed to be the ringleader. She not very happily acquiesced and allowed the three of us to pass.

Sometime later in the afternoon, we came upon little town number 30 or 40, and I silently cursed under my helmet when I saw yet another long string of traffic stopped in our lane. There was nothing remarkable about this town, just another grubby collection of brick and mud homes lining the road, full of people who work in the fields and live a very hard life. We and the other bikes and bicyclists dutifully pulled into the empty oncoming lane and made our way past the 25 or 30 stopped trucks and buses. What is it this time? I thought to myself. As we neared the head of the column, I could see there was a truck stopped at a funny angle across the road, and beyond it, a large crowd of people were gathered. “Just another truck accident,” I thought, but then I didn't see another vehicle. As we got closer I could see the crowd was gathered in a circular fashion around something on the ground. “Shit,” I thought, “there's a motorbike down.” We then ducked to the left and pulled on to the shoulder of the road to go around the crowd. As I went to pull back onto the road, I glanced back to see a sight I'd hoped never to see. Instead of a downed motorbike, the crowd was gathered around a very grubby, too small, white piece of cloth thrown over a too tiny body. One dirty arm and leg stuck out from under the cloth, and on the side of the road was a small woman who had collapsed on her heels and was crying. Not knowing what else to do, I said a quick prayer before riding on. The roads in India are way too dangerous. Everybody drives way too fast, no one slows down for anything, and these roads go right through all the small villages. Road safety is not a priority in India. Hell, it's not even an afterthought. Life is cheap here, and there is almost no penalty for any crime, and certainly not for vehicular manslaughter. And it's not just road safety, there is almost no thought given to protecting the lives of the people in India. Maybe it's because there are over 1.4 billion people here, or maybe it's because the government is astoundingly corrupt and incompetent, or maybe it's the caste system, I don't know. As we rode away, I couldn't help but think about the mom, that little boy or girl may have only been one in a billion, but he or she was somebody's one. And I know that somebody's already too hard life is going to be just that much harder tonight.

The ride for the rest of the day really didn't seem to matter. It just got colder and there was some occasional light rain. We again lost the race with the sun again and rode the last thirty minutes in the dark. We made it to Kushinagar by about 6:15 pm and stayed in one of the government guesthouses. We had dinner at the hotel and both of us went to bed not feeling very good about the day or northern India in general.


255 miles in 11 hours. Crossed the 15,000 mile mark. Doesn't seem to really matter.

1/10 Touring Kushinagar/Ride to Gorakhpur
 

We woke to yet another cold, damp, and misty day. This is getting tedious for sure. The weather has been essentially the same for the past ten days or so, and none of the hotels have heat. Consequently, our gear never really dries and it's very difficult to do laundry. We wandered out into the fog and found the one recommended restaurant for breakfast. The so-so food and bad service didn't do much to improve our moods this morning, but we continued on with the walking tour of the sights. Kushinagar is where Buddha died and is the place where he is said to have been cremated.

We started the walk with a visit to the Chinese Linh Son Temple and then to the Burmese Temple complex. We then toured the Mahaparinirvana Temple, which contains a temple surrounded by a huge garden.

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Inside the temple is a reclining Buddha from the 5th century. At nearly twenty feet long, it depicts Buddha on his deathbed. Our next stop was at the Mathakuar Temple, which is where Buddha is said to have made his final sermon.

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From there, we walked to the Ramabahr Stupa, where Buddha's body is said to have been cremated. There really wasn't much to see here, since the stupa was not much more than a pile of bricks, but it was a very peaceful and moving place to visit. Even though we needed to check out of our room by noon, we sat for twenty minutes or so and talked about life and the future while watching a saffron-robed monk sit in quiet meditation in front of the stupa.

We then hurried back to the room and quickly packed up the bikes. Re is coming down with some sort of cough, and it has steadily been getting worse all morning. Fortunately the ride to Gorakhpur was short and the day had warmed up. Around 1:30 pm we found the recommended hotel across from the train station and checked in. The room was small but very nice, and miracle of miracles, it had a small space heater. The bad news was that while checking in, Re suddenly asked me to finish filling out the paperwork and sat down. She was now feeling nauseated and generally unwell. While she went up to the room and laid down, I unpacked the bikes and got everything locked up. Later in the afternoon I went out to find cough syrup, cold tablets, some paracetamol, and some lunch snacks. Re spent the rest of the day in bed but did get up for room service dinner and to do a bit of laundry. Later in the evening I went out to find the local internet cafe, but the internet service was down everywhere.

35 miles in 1.5 hours. Re is not well.

1/11 and 1/12
 

1/11

Re was very sick this morning. She said she'd had chills and sweats overnight to go with her cough and congestion. Clearly we are not riding today. While I left her to sleep, I decided to head out to try and find some internet before the power cut. I did find a small place that actually had a pretty darned fast connection and spent two hours or so posting ride reports and photos and researching Nepal and beyond. As I got up to leave the internet cafe, it seemed like my bones were beginning to hurt. Bummer. Back at the room, Re decided that she wanted to try and get some lunch with me, so we both walked out and found a thali. Re picked at hers and I ate about half of mine. The cold and gray day seemed to have soaked into us. We went back to the room and both crawled under the covers to nap for a few hours. In the early evening, the power came back on, and with it, our tiny space heater. The room warmed up enough to get out from under the covers, so we had some oranges for dinner and watched a little TV. Re's fever seems to have gone, but she has a nasty cough that the cough syrup doesn't seem to be doing much about. I now have a bad headache and joint pains. Yay.

1/12

After a bad night's sleep, we both woke up feeling somewhat better and wanted to get on the road. We started packing up the room, and I started to feel much worse. Between coughing fits, Re went down to the bike and retrieved the thermometer. My temperature is nearly 101 degrees, so no riding today. I ended up crawling back into bed and slept for most of the day. Re worked on blog posts and did a bunch of laundry. I crawled out from under the covers long enough to have some chicken soup and rice for dinner and then went back to bed.

1/13 Friday the 13th Part: INDIA
 

We both felt okay this morning and decided we had to get out of this room. While we waited for the fog to burn off, we packed up the bikes and Re went out in search of more cough syrup. By 9:30 am we were ready to go. The bad news about our late start is that it put us in the middle of rush hour, and the roads were chaos. We had to ride through Gorakhpur to get to the highway to Nepal, and traffic was insane. Before we could make it to the highway, I was struck by another motorbike. We were riding on a (barely) two-lane road and I was hugging the left edge of the pavement since everyone was overtaking everywhere. I noticed a motorbike pull up on my right side and match speeds. After riding for eight weeks in India, I really do not like it when other vehicles ride next to me because it cuts off some of the few options I have. Consequently, I tried to shake him. I sped up, he sped up. I slowed down, he slowed down. And then, the Inevitable. Right in front of us, an oncoming bus pulled out to pass, and the rider to my right swerved to avoid becoming a grill ornament. Unfortunately, he swerved into me at about 35 mph. I felt the lurch from the back of the bike and suddenly found myself to be a passenger on the Ohshitthisisgonnahurt Express. Surprisingly, it didn't hurt that much. I came free of the bike before it hit the ground and gently glided through the air until I reached my final destination. I landed face down, fairly flat, and thankfully, no one ran over me. I hopped up, checked myself over and heard Re yelling to see if I was okay. I told her I was, and Re and a couple helpful folks got my bike stood back up. The other guy had picked himself off the ground and I just shook my head at him, while Re screamed at him. He looked rather stunned and actually may have been, since I am sure he hit the ground as hard as I did, but of course, his helmet was made of a scarf. Dumbass. I checked over my bike and found, once again, that Symbas crash well, just a slightly bent right footpeg. Since traffic was backing up and I just wanted to get the **** out of India, we hopped back on our bikes and continued north.

We made it out of the city, and the highway opened up some. Traffic was still very heavy, and we had to take to the shoulder several times to avoid oncoming traffic. Maybe thirty minutes after my crash, while passing through Small Town number elebenty billion, we came upon a truck stopped perpendicularly across both lanes. He didn't appear to have plans to move any time soon, so I rode onto the shoulder and went around the rear of the truck. When I glanced in my rearview mirror, I saw Re had apparently hesitated before deciding to follow me. Unfortunately, by the time she pulled behind the truck, the driver woke up/put down his cellphone/had an idea/I don't know, and started backing up. Re was valiantly blowing her horn and trying to get past, but didn't make it. The good news was, she was going less than 5 mph when the truck backed into her. I saw her tip over, jammed on the brakes, and spun around. I was a few hundred yards up the road when I turned around and rode back going the wrong way against traffic on the edge of the road since all the oncoming traffic was stopped by the now leaving truck and the crowd that had gathered around Re. I wasn't too concerned about it until I spied a motorbike riding in from the dirt “parking” area on the right. He was riding from my right to left, from the dirt to the paved road while texting. I quickly realized that I was riding too fast for conditions, and that if I did not avoid him, we were going to collide. In my haste to get back to Re, I did not realize how fast I was going until I hit the brakes. I was not slowing fast enough on the pavement, so at the last minute, I eased right, onto the dirt. What I did not do was let up on the front brake when I transitioned to the dirt. The front end immediately snapped right, and I found my head striking the dirt, followed by my shoulder, the rest of me, and then the bike. I estimate I was going somewhere between 20 and 25 mph when I hit, but I hit hard. I was dazed for a second, but eventually noticed that my right foot was trapped under the bike, and I could not get up. Once again, the helpful passersby of India, who must do this several times each day, came over and lifted the bike off me. I'd had the wind knocked out of me, so it took a few seconds to recover. I stood up and found that while my shoulder and ankle both hurt, they seemed to work okay. I took off my helmet, checked it for damage, and saw none. I looked over the bike and found that the front brake lever was slightly bent and that the ball end had snapped off, but amazingly, no other apparent damage. I re-situated the load that had shifted and looked for Re. She was still lost in the crowd a few hundred feet further down the road, and I didn't know her condition. I hopped on my Symba and it fired right up, and I rode back to Re. She was okay, no damage, just double extra ready to get the **** out of India – like me. She said she had checked over her bike and everything looked hunky dory, so we kept riding.

In the first few miles or so, I did find three problems. The first and most minor (but irritating nonetheless) is a shattered right mirror. The second and more problematic is that my rear brake lever is, once again, bent, and it sounds like my rear brake might be dragging. I discovered the third and most problematic bit of damage when I hit the first pothole and felt the unmistakeable pain of fractured ribs. When I fell, I landed on my right side with my arm trapped under my body. It appears that the impact was hard enough for my trapped arm to fracture a couple of ribs. Having had a similar landing after a crash at Road Atlanta many years ago that resulted in fractured ribs, I recognize the sensation. I pulled over to have Re run her fingers over my ribcage to see if she could feel any displacement of the bones, and she found none. It ain't an x-ray, but she is an x-ray tech (amongst other things). By now I had also noticed the tip of my pinky on my right hand was numb as well. She felt for a boxer's fracture and thankfully, found nothing. Since we still had an hour and a half or so to the border, it was time to ride. When I used to roadrace, we had a phrase at the track that was, “Nut up, shut up, and ride.” While I did ride, I will admit that there were more than a few whimpers inside my helmet as we bounced through the potholes and broken pavement to the border.

Shortly before 1:00, we reached the outskirts of Sunauli and stopped to fuel up. I had read that Nepal was suffering from a petrol shortage that began just before the New Year, and I wasn't able to find anything that said it was over, therefore, we made sure the bikes were full and that our fifteen liters of jerrycan space was also full. That would give us plenty of fuel to make either Kathmandu or Pokhara depending on what we found. As expected, the border was chaotic on the India side, and the Immigration post is a series of card tables inside an open shopfront with four guys just sitting around. A guy ran out in the road and yelled that we needed to pull over for Immigration. Re and I stopped, looked at the setup, and both immediately thought that it was some sort of scam. But no. We got through Immigration, changed our India rupees for Nepali rupees at a kind of bad rate, and then, went to Customs. Here is where the wheels came off. Apparently, today was training day, and they directed me to a guy who had never done a Carnet before. For the next hour, he read what little there is to read in the way of instructions in the Carnet itself, flipped through the souches, folded the covers of our Carnets, asked if I wanted any tea, had a guy draw some pencil lines in a ledger, and then eventually started filling out stuff in the ledge. Several times, he asked me what stuff I thought should go in there. After an hour or so, another Customs official came over and finally told our man how to finish. That's India. With everything stamped and souches torn out, we crossed into Nepal.

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The Nepal side was no more professional, but they were faster and very friendly. At Immigration, we paid our 40 USD each for 30-day visas and were in and out in under ten minutes. At Customs, I had to wait a minute or two for the guy who does Carnets, but twenty minutes later, everything was stamped and we were good to go. Other than the 80 USD for visas, there were no fees on either side of the border.

We were riding again by 3:30 pm (which is actually 3:45 pm Nepal time, since they are fifteen minutes ahead of India) and made Lumbini in about an hour. My ribs and I were happy to find that the roads in Nepal are in much better shape and have much less traffic. One problem we are going to have with Nepal is that we do not have a current guidebook for it. Oh, we have a copy of the latest edition of Lonely Planet Nepal sitting in a storage room in Portland. Why, you ask? While planning for the motorbike trip, we purchased a copy but then decided that winter in Nepal seemed like a stupid idea, so we left the book at home. Now that we're feeling stupid, we don't have it. We do have the 2006 edition in PDF format on the laptop, but it's not very handy to use while riding.

The accommodations in Lumbini are spread out over a large area around the Development Zone, so we were riding around looking for something likely. In front of a not very likely looking location, I spied an Enfield and its western rider. While Re pulled out the laptop to try and figure out where we needed to be, I rode back and spoke with Patrick. Patrick gave a halfhearted recommendation of the place, so I called for Re to take a look while Patrick and I chatted. Re came back and said the room was basic and relatively clean, with a hot shower, and wonder of all wonders, wifi in the room. I could tell by the rivulet of snot running out of Re's nose that she was feeling worse. My ankle, knee, hip, shoulder, and ribs were all also voting for not riding anymore. So for about 9 USD, we checked in for the night. We talked with Patrick for quite a while longer since he had ridden in Nepal before and had just come down the Siddhartha Highway from Pokhara today. He was a wealth of information on what to expect in Nepal and a very interesting guy to boot. He's French but has been living primarily in India for the past several years supporting himself by playing online poker.

We unpacked and had dinner in the room. Later in the evening, I actually got to talk to my parents on Skype for the first time since Christmas. The room came with two beds, and Re and I decided that between her coughing and my battering, that we ought to make use of both of them. Re was kind enough to dig out my Big Agnes pad and blow it up for me for some extra comfort tonight. Given her respiratory problem, it was a very nice thing for her to do (I am, however, concerned that my Big Agnes is now filled with 80% air and 20% snot) .


90 miles in about 7 hours, including an international border crossing and three trips to the ground. I will write a post about our impressions of India at some later date, but right now, I can say that I will never tour India on two wheels again, and I cannot recommend that anyone else do the same.

India Wrap-up

In 60 days, we covered 4,520 miles for an average of 75 miles per day. We spent 3,141 USD for an average of 52 USD per day. We used 106 gallons (401 liters) of petrol for an average of 85 miles per gallon. More incidents and accidents than I care to count now (I do think that accident is not the right word for collision in India – I shall call them “Inevitables” from now on)

1/14-1/16 Recovering in Lumbini
 

1/14

Neither of us slept very well last night, so we stayed in our beds late this morning. Re had a fitful night of coughing and nose blowing, while I had a hard time finding a comfortable way to lay. It was chilly in the room when we rolled out of bed around 9:00 am, and a glance out the window showed that it was very foggy. After downing our various pills and potions, we made our way down the steps to look for some breakfast. It turns out the area we were staying in is really just a local village without too many recognizable options. We wandered into the most likely looking tent “restaurant” for some chai and some sugary fried swirls. We walked the mile and a half through the temple area to reach the Lumbini Bazaar. At the bazaar, we found a chemist and bought some more paracetamol and cold tablets. We continued our search for warm gloves but sadly, found none. We did however, find a small bottle of Nepali whiskey to try later. At around 2:00 pm, we found a restaurant that actually had “buff” on the menu. Finally, I would have a chance to see how delicious all those water buffaloes actually are. Re has lost her sense of taste, which is too bad, because the buff momos were way too good. In addition to the buff momos, I ordered buff thanthuk, while Re opted for the veg thanthuk.

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Thanthuk is a kind of soup or stew that has flat, chewy, doughy noodles in it. Honestly, this is the first meal I have really enjoyed in quite a while. For dessert, we ordered another plate of buff momos and ate until we could eat no more.

We then walked the mile and a half or so back to the guest house. The return walk was much slower than the outbound walk, as the muscles in my right calf and foot (that were trapped under the bike) were protesting the strain, and Re was also feeling weak and light-headed. We are quite the pair! Back at the room, we worked on ride reports and blog posts into the evening and had some fruit for dinner. Neither of us felt well enough to want to do anything else, so we went to bed for another fitful night.


1/15

I had a better night sleep last night, but I am finding new aches and pains up and down my right side every day. My ribs don't bother me unless I cough or laugh, and then they really hurt. Re again spent much of the night coughing and didn't get a whole lot of sleep. It's hard to tell what's going on with her since this has been going on for almost a week now. She's better during the day when she's up and around, but nighttime is hard. We decided to try breakfast at the guesthouse, and it was a little strange. Our fried eggs seemed to have been deep-fried, and our toast appeared to be something like hamburger buns that had been split open and had one side placed directly on the charcoal fire. While we waited for breakfast to be served, we looked over our Thailand and Cambodia/Laos maps. Pretty soon, we will be flying to Thailand, and I wanted to start working on some sort of route. The usual route from Kathmandu is to Bangkok, but I have a vague recollection of someone on HUBB talking about flying into Chiang Mai instead. Honestly, if we could avoid Bangkok, I would.

We were determined to get out and see some of the sights today, so after the fog cleared, we headed to the Maha Devi Temple. On our way, Re and I talked about having to refocus. We were finally in Nepal, and yet, all we could talk about was our time in India and what we were looking forward to in southeast Asia. There are things that we really want to see in Nepal, and we need to get excited about them. The last couple of weeks have really been the low point of the trip, and we both seem to have lost our excitement for traveling. We spend more time talking about what we miss in the States and complaining about India than we do anything else. We both know that this is temporary, but it's really hard when both of us are feeling so bad.

Eventually, we came to the temple, paid our money, checked our shoes, and walked in. The Maha Devi Temple is the place where Buddha was born.

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There is an ugly, modern building housing the remains of the temple whose remains date back to at least the 3rd century. We joined the line of pilgrims and shuffled along to eventually see the purported actual spot where the birth occurred. Afterward, we toured the grounds and read the signs containing quotes attributed to Buddha.

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Just before we reached the meditation garden, we came across one that seemed especially fitting to our circumstances. It said, “Do not dwell in the past, do not dream of the future, concentrate the mind on the present moment.” That seems to be our problem right there. Lately, we seem to spend too much time looking backward and forward and not being present in the moment. While we talked about this, we wandered into the meditation garden and decided to pull up a pallet and meditate on it for a little while. A while later, we rejoined our tour of the grounds and vowed to try and spend more time thinking about the now.

In fact, now, it was time for lunch. We walked back into the bazaar area for some surprisingly tasty pasta and more medicine.

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Re had run out of her codeine cough syrup from India and instead decided to try the poorly named, “Brica BM.” We walked back to the guesthouse, and both of us found the trip easier today. Maybe we are getting better, or maybe it is that the sun made a strong appearance today. Back at the guesthouse, we hiked up to the roof and sat in the sun until it set. Back in the room, we watched some TV and had a room service dinner.


1/16

We woke to a sunny, sunny morning, which was the first we've seen in a long time. Again, I slept better, but Re's coughing has got to stop. Late-morning, we hiked back to the bazaar for lunch, after which we planned to tour some of the monasteries in the Buddhist Development Zone. Unfortunately, just as we walked out of the restaurant, it began to sprinkle. So much for our sunny morning. Instead, we hustled back to the guesthouse as fast as her bad lungs and my gimpy leg would take us. From the look of the sky, the light rain had settled in for the afternoon, so we took advantage of the free wifi to plan our time in Pokhara and catch up on some news. The rain never let up, so it was nap time. Later in the evening, we had a dinner of fruit and cookies and started packing up our gear in anticipation of riding tomorrow.

1/17 Ride to Pokhara
 

When the alarm went off at 6:00 am, it must have sounded like an old folks' home in our room, with Re hacking and coughing like a 12-pack a day smoker, and me groaning while I tried to figure out how to gracefully get myself out of bed. A quick glance out the window showed that it was a little foggy, but the sun was making an effort. We showered and got the bikes loaded and were on the road by 8:00 am. We do not know how long it will take us to get to Pokhara because the road is reputed to be very twisty and generally slow-going. We took the unusual step yesterday of actually pre-booking a room for the night, just in case we get in late. My other issue this morning is that my GPS does not recognize where we currently are, so it refuses to route anything.

We fired up the bikes for the first time in several days and slowly pulled out onto the road. Both of us are a little trepidatious about today's ride since our last one didn't go so well. Once again, my ribs and I were glad to see that the road surface was in good shape.

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The sun was doing its best to push its way through the fog, and the fields were lit with an ethereal light. Once we made our way back to Bhairawa, the GPS picked up the scent and informed me that the ride to Pokhara would be an additional 110 miles. The ride between Bhairawa and Bhutwal was uneventful, and the pavement between towns was in excellent shape. The one thing Re and I did notice in this stretch is how unlike riding in India it was here. Vehicles have brake lights, people used turn signals, other drivers and riders actually looked before they pulled out, and oncoming vehicles actually pulled back into line when they saw us, rather than completing their passes and running us off the road. In short, people were safety conscious and polite.

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Once we reached Bhutwal, we knew the ride was going to be fun. Facing us was a solid line of mountains, and the Siddhartha Highway led directly toward them. For the next ten to fifteen miles, the road followed a beautiful river gorge through the mountains. As we twisted and turned along the river, Re and I both found ourselves smiling for the first time in a long time. Then the road climbed up through the mountains and snaked back and forth along cliff edges for miles and miles. Generally, the pavement was in excellent shape, except where there had been rock falls that had destroyed the surface. Here we bumped and bounced our way through, and I was glad to find that my ribs seemed to be doing much better. I found a way to brace myself against the impact, and the ride was actually not too uncomfortable. One section found us descending back down along a river and crossing a bridge over some beautiful, green water. There must be limestone or some other rock in the area to make it such a beautiful color. It was also a very bright, sunny day, and when we were lucky enough to be in the sun, we were actually warm.

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We continued twisting our way along through the big mountains, stopping occasionally to take in the scenery. We weren't making very good time, only averaging around 20 mph, but we didn't care. We were actually enjoying riding for the first time in quite a while. With about thirty miles to go, the pavement changed and became very bouncy. The combination of this and the fact that my paracetamol was wearing off made it uncomfortable.

Sometime before 3:00 pm, we made our way into Pokhara and easily found the guesthouse we had reserved. My two goals for today were to make it to Pokhara and eat a big-ass steak. Later that evening, I accomplished goal #2. Re and I went to the New Everest Steakhouse and each ordered a big-ass steak. We ate until we could eat no more, and I am a little embarrassed to say, there was still meat on the plate when we left (it wasn't a steak at the Acropolis, (link is definitely NSFW!) but it was still pretty damned good). The bad news for the day is that Re is still coughing, and I'm getting a little stuffy, but all in all, this has been a good day.

135 miles in 7 hours. It is good to be enjoying riding again.

1/18 Easy Day in Pokhara
 

It got downright chilly overnight, and we were glad to be snuggled up under our 43 lb comforters. We are viewing our time in Pokhara as a vacation from our trip, a chance to relax and recuperate. With this in mind, we got up late and made our way up to the rooftop seating area of our guesthouse for breakfast. We are both feeling a little malnourished after our time in India, but we found the antidote on the breakfast menu. The aptly named, “Hearty Breakfast,” consists of two eggs, fried potatoes, a small loaf of brown bread with butter and honey, a bowl of fruit, muesli, and curd, and tea or coffee. While we waited for our order to arrive, we looked in awe at the surrounding mountains. Our view this morning was of the peaks of the Annapurna Range of the Himalaya Mountains. The peaks we could see range from 21,000 to 24,000 ft of elevation and were beautiful in the morning light. We also were able to see the paragliders launching from Sarangkot, which is a smaller peak, only about 3000 ft high. Re ran back to the room and grabbed our binoculars so we could get a better view of the action. While we ate breakfast, we basked in the sun, and the day got warmer and warmer. I'd guess that it made it up to about 70 degrees, and the sun felt great.

Completely stuffed with breakfast, we laced up our boots and went walking in search of one of the recommended paragliding companies. We stopped in at a couple of places and asked for rates and times and eventually settled on Frontiers Paragliding, as they looked the most professional. Not convinced that I was going to do something this stupid quite yet, we made the short walk to Lake Fewa and sat by the water watching the boats and paragliders. After discussing our options, we decided to skip the 30 minute introductory tandem flight and go directly for the 1 hour tandem flight. We walked back to Frontiers, made a reservation for 11:30 am tomorrow, and paid our deposit. On the way back to the guesthouse, we stopped at a restaurant that had a sunny garden for cafe Americanos and cinnamon rolls.

Back at the guesthouse, we worked on ride reports for a little while before Re took a nap. Her Indian Lung Death is still hanging around and she is having a hard time sleeping through the night. Around 7:00 pm, we made the trek to a restaurant that promised Mexican food. The nachos were a bit odd but tasty, and Re enjoyed her chicken enchiladas quite a bit. My chicken burrito was a little dry, but hey, it wasn't mushy, and it didn't taste like masala anything. Back at the room, we had a dessert of Snickers and whiskey before crawling back underneath our 43 lb comforters for the night.

1/19 Paragliding!
 

Re slept better last night and only woke up for one 20 minute coughing fit, so she was feeling a bit more refreshed this morning. When I got out of bed, I opened the curtains to see a beautifully clear morning and a great day for flying. We enjoyed breakfast so much yesterday, we decided another round of “Hearty Breakfasts” was the way to go. Re ran out of cough syrup and cold medicine, so we went out in search of a chemist. We found a chemist that said it did “consultations” and went in for some advice. The woman at the counter seemed very professional and after listening to Re's symptoms and cough, recommended a course of different antibiotics and some more cough syrup. She sounded like she knew what she was talking about, so we paid for the goods and hit the road.

A short while later, we found ourselves at Frontiers, where we filled out some paperwork and then waited for the Jeep. The interesting discovery of the morning occurred when I was told to weigh myself for the flight and I saw that I was about 10 pounds lighter than I usually am. I guess my feeling of being malnourished may have some basis in truth. Pretty soon the Jeep and pilots returned from the early morning flight, and we were loaded up and ready to go. The Jeep ride up the mountain was perhaps the scariest thing I've done since we left the United States. They must have imported the driver from India, since we haven't seen anyone else in Nepal drive in such a hazardous manner. This might be a good time to mention that I am incredibly afraid of heights. So once we finally arrived at the top of the hill and I had a chance to survey the area from which we would be flying, I started to get a little nervous.

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But then we met our pilots, and any nervousness disappeared as they helped us into our harnesses and started going through the takeoff instructions. My pilot for today was Ivan, from Barcelona, while Re's was Serge, from somewhere in France. Ivan explained the takeoff procedure to me, and then we waited for a breeze. In the two minutes or so that we waited, I had the opportunity to reassess the wisdom of what I was about to do, but decided that I would probably never get another chance to paraglide in the Himalayas. And then the wind came up, Ivan said, “3, 2, 1, go,” we took two steps, and my feet were rather improbably, dangling in the air. As instructed, I shoved the part of my harness that would become the seat forward and sat down. I wasn't nervous or scared in the slightest, it was just amazing. It took me a minute or two to comprehend that I was sitting in a sling chair attached to the sky. Honestly, the wing just does not look big enough or substantial enough to support even myself, much less me and some Spanish guy. Ivan was a great pilot and explained what we were doing and why we were doing it.

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For the next hour, we chased some thermals, flew over the city and the lake, and even got a chance to fly with Re and Serge for a while. Too soon, it was time to land, and we made a perfect standing landing at the landing strip right next to the lake.

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Once my harness was unclipped from Ivan and the wing, I had just enough time to sit down and take a photo of Re landing on her butt. We both sat for a few minutes and talked about how much we loved, loved, loved paragliding.

While we waited for the return Jeep, we were directed to a small restaurant near the landing zone, where we ran into an Australian couple riding DRZ400s from London to Australia. We compared notes for a few minutes but suddenly had to leave since our Jeep was departing. On the Jeep ride back to the office, Re and I decided that someday we are going to have to take up paragliding as a hobby, because that was just too enjoyable. From the office we walked back to the guesthouse to do some more basking in the sun and to talk about our flights. After spending some quality “together time,” we walked out for dinner at a Chinese restaurant we had seen the previous day. Once again, we ordered too much food, but damn, it tasted so good! I ordered Gong Bao Pork with Peanuts and Cabbage Soya Sauce, while Re ordered Ma Po Tofu and Garlic Greenbeans. But before those arrived, we had an order of chicken stuffed wontons as a warmup. I am sad to report that we, once again, left food on our plates, because it was so delicious. The bad news for the day is that Re is still coughing and I am getting very stuffy. My ribs are doing better, but even a shallow cough is quite painful.

1/20 Lazy Day in Pokhara
 

Re slept better last night but still is hacking this morning. I have a bit of a shallow cough but am trying very hard not to. When the alarm went off, the light in the room didn't seem as bright as usual, so before getting out from under the covers, I peeked through the curtains and saw an overcast, gray morning. We had considered riding to Kathmandu today, but turning off the alarm and going back to sleep seemed like a better plan. Sometime after 9:00 we finally dragged our lazy asses out from under the 43 lb comforters and into a steamy, hot shower. It was a bit late for breakfast, but we decided to repeat our hearty breakfast order. The sun did make an appearance eventually, and the day started to warm up.

For the first time since Malawi, I decided to give Re the day off from charwoman duties, and we paid to have our laundry done in a genuine washing machine. It is vacation, after all. Around noon we decided to go out for an extended walk and see some of the town. We also picked up two replacement carabiner clips for the ones that were stolen in Mumbai. After our walk, we came back to the room and researched our upcoming trips to Kathmandu and Royal Chitwan Park.

After some more quality “together time,” (we are obviously both feeling much better) we put on our warm woolies and headed out for dinner. What's for dinner tonight, you ask? Why, it's Italian night. One of the recommended restaurants caught our attention, not only due to the menu, but also the large fireplace in the dining room. We scored a table right next to the fire and were doubly pleased to find out that it was still Happy Hour. We ordered two, large Gorka beers, spaghetti carbonara, and the pizza Nepalitaly. The Nepalitaly pizza was an interesting combination of tomato sauce, pesto sauce, walnuts, fresh tomato slices, mozzarella cheese, and yak cheese. The pasta was okay, the beers were surprisingly good (after drinking Kingfishers for two months), but the pizza was excellent. After gorging ourselves on familiar food, we sat by the fire and finished our beers. Life does not suck (except for the cough. Oh, and the ribs). Maybe we'll go to Kathmandu tomorrow, but it's awfully nice in Pokhara.

1/21 One More Day in Pokhara
 

Once again, we woke up to a cool morning, and since neither of us really felt like getting out of bed, we decided to stay one more day in Pokhara. We finally slid out from under the covers and into the chilly morning air around 9:00 am. This morning, we decided to forgo breakfast at the guesthouse and instead, went out in search of... bacon. A couple of days ago, we noticed bacon listed on several restaurants' menus, usually as part of a full English breakfast. We hiked up and down the main street, looking at a dozen menus until we decided on our favorite.

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For three bucks each, we got juice, coffee, eggs, toast, beans, fried tomatoes, potatoes, and most importantly, two big slices of bacon! As we nearly finished our meals, Re let me know that I was truly loved by giving me the last bite of her bacon.

Since we really didn't have anything else to do today, we wandered back to the guesthouse, where Re handwashed our SmartWool base layers, which we have worn virtually every day in Nepal.

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Then, while she worked on blogposts, I plopped myself in the sun with an iPod and a book and spent a relaxing morning reading and listening to music. Still stuffed from breakfast, we decided to skip lunch, and instead, fired up the Symbas for the three-mile ride or so to one of the paragliding landing zones next to Lake Fewa. We spent about an hour drinking sodas and watching the succession of paragliders land. Re and I again agreed that if we ever resume a normal life, we'll have to learn how to paraglide. We rode back to the guesthouse and after deciding that we would go to Kathmandu tomorrow, booked a room online. Re posted the results of her morning's writing and we then worked on ride reports until dinnertime. Dinner tonight was a conundrum since everything sounded good. We finally decided to return to the Chinese place from a couple nights ago. I ordered a delicious duck dish, and since Re enjoyed my gong bao pork on our previous visit, she decided to get that. We rounded out our meal with two vegetable dishes and some rice, and stuffed ourselves silly once again. Back at the guesthouse, I posted ride reports while Re started packing for tomorrow.

6 miles.

1/22 Ride to Kathmandu
 

When the alarm went off at 6:30, it again seemed awfully chilly, but we'd booked a room in Kathmandu for the night, so it was time to go. The bad news of the morning was that the hot water in the shower was none too hot for some reason. On our previous four mornings here, the shower had been steamy hot, but not today. Consequently, we skipped showering this morning and instead began loading the bikes. We ordered eggs and toast and ate breakfast between trips from the room to the bikes. Re had mentioned that her bike's driveline seemed a little snatchy on the way to Pokhara, and sure enough, her chain needed adjusting. While we were at it, we adjusted mine and lubed the chains.

We turned out onto the road at 9:00 am and made our way east. The sun made a strong appearance this morning, and we actually needed the sunvisors in our helmets for the first time in a long time. For the first twenty-five miles or so of the trip, there was a fair bit of traffic, and the road surface was bouncy. It appeared that the surface of the pavement had slumped in many places but had not broken up. After the first twenty-five miles, the road suddenly smoothed out and descended to lower elevations. With the lower elevation came a considerable amount of fog. We rode through misty low mountains along a river gorge, where everything was lush and green. While it was pretty, the lack of sun made for a chilly ride and cold fingers. About halfway through the ride, we picked up altitude again and the fog cleared. Back in the sun, we enjoyed all but the final ten miles to Kathmandu.

The last ten miles were miserable. Kathmandu sits on a hill and we had to ride up it. Unfortunately also driving up it was a huge line of trucks, buses, cars, and motorbikes. The pavement also became very rutted and broken in sections. We jounced and bounced our way slowly up the hill, occasionally coming to a full stop before desperately gunning our way around slow vehicles. We made it to our guesthouse in Kathmandu by 3:00 pm, but they had double-booked our room. They put us up in a guesthouse across the street, which had warm, but not hot water. Considering that the lows this time of year are in the mid-30s, warm wasn't good enough.

While the sun was still up, we walked to Pizza Hut for a pepperoni and double cheese pan pizza. Unlike the pizzas in India, which are all just a little weird, this pizza tasted exactly like it would in the good old US of A. When we left the restaurant, the sun had nearly set, and unlike in Pokhara, where the temperature dropped slowly, here it just plummeted. Even wearing every warm thing we have with us, it was still too cold to do much more that grab some beers and head back to the room. The other bad news about Kathmandu is that the power only appears to be on for two or three hours in the afternoon and about six hours in the middle of the night. We snuggled up under the covers, drank our beers, and played Text Twist on the iPhone.

135 miles in 6 hours. A beautiful ride, and the bikes are running well.

1/23 To Chitwan or Not to Chitwan?
 

We thought the mornings were chilly in Pokhara, but apparently, we were wrong. In Kathmandu, the mornings are chilly. When the alarm went off, I couldn't help but notice my breath condensing as I reached for the snooze button. We did get up and quickly threw on our clothes to keep warm while we got ready to shower. This guesthouse has both a solar heated shower and a gas heated shower but neither of them were very warm, certainly not warm enough on a 40 degree morning. We decided to wait on the shower and instead went next door to the Elbrus GH for breakfast. We told our host about the hot water issue and he gave us two options – we could either change to a third property or wait one more day for our reserved room at the Elbrus. We decided to go see the other property but it was a good 5 minute walk away from the central part of Thamel. The room was nice but another guest told us that the showers weren't all that warm there, either, so we decided to tough it out one more night and move tomorrow. The solar shower finally warmed up enough around 11:00 am to allow us to make a flying run through the not so cold water. While we waited for our shower, we decided to head for warmer pastures (Thailand) rather than staying in Nepal. We would have loved to have gone to Royal Chitwan Park, but we simply don't have warm enough gear for this time of year. There is plenty of cold weather gear available for sale here in Kathmandu, but it didn't make financial sense to invest in warmer clothes for a three to four day trip.

So the plan now is to get to Thailand ASAP. From my preliminary research on HUBB, I knew that the cargo company that everyone uses is Eagle-something. I pulled up the shipping reports on HUBB and saw that Eagle Eyes Cargo was in the same building as Helena's Restaurant, which was conveniently on my map. Before arriving in Nepal, I had also received an email from Suraj at Eagle-something Cargo, so that was who I was looking for. We found the office of Eagle Eyes Cargo and met Jeewan. I told him we were there to find out about shipping motorbikes to Bangkok, and he showed us photos of some bikes he'd recently shipped. He also gave us a quote of 770 USD for everything. He confirmed that we could pack the bikes on Thursday and ship them on Friday. The only thing that was a little concerning was that when I mentioned the email he sent me, he seemed very noncommittal. Re and I discussed it briefly and decided that we would ship with him and left a 125 USD deposit. We arranged to meet Thursday morning at 10:00 am so he could prepare the necessary paperwork before we went to the airport to crate the bikes. As we got ready to leave, he gave us a receipt and his business card. I noticed that his name was not Suraj. Hmmm. I reread the email on my phone as we left and realized that I received the email from Eagle Cargo, not Eagle Eyes Cargo.

Confused, we started walking back to the room when I spied a sign on the same street that said Eagle Cargo and motorcycle shipping. Curious. We stopped in at Eagle Cargo and found that Suraj and Jeewan are somehow related and apparently, Suraj used to work for Eagle Eyes. Suraj proceeded to tell us how much better his service is and generally tried to convince us to change shipping companies. When we asked his rate, the price he quoted us was 50 cents less than our other quote. When we told him this, he then cut his rate to 750 USD. We said we would think about it but did tell him where we were staying. We then went back to the guesthouse and fired up HUBB to figure out what was going on. Eagle Eyes Cargo has been shipping bikes since 1999, whereas, Eagle Cargo has only been doing it for about two years. People seem equally happy with both, so we decided to stick with the shipping we'd already booked. Recognizing Suraj (and his wife, Sara) from the description that the DRZ-mounted couple from Pokhara had given us also gave me pause. They had told us how Suraj had booked their plane tickets to Bangkok as well but had overcharged them by 50 bucks each.

Now we needed to get our plane tickets and found that Nepal Airlines had the best rate. Unfortunately, they do not sell tickets online, so we walked approximately a mile to their office. We got our tickets for Friday and they cost about 205 USD each. The good news was they took credit cards so we didn't need to dip into our cash reserves. On the way back to the guesthouse, we hit the ATM for a whole bunch of Nepali rupees, since unlike Tanzania, the shipper actually wanted to be paid in his own currency. Once we got back to the guesthouse, Re spent some time researching transportation and accommodation options in Bangkok while I finished reading the book I had been working on for the past few days.

After the sun went down, it got cold fast. A knock on our door brought a handwritten note from Suraj and an offer to cut our shipping rate to 720 USD. The note also said he'd sent us an email with a different offer and to let him know. Re than checked my email and found that his other offer was to ship our bikes for 595 USD if we would pack on Wednesday, when he had four other bikes going, or 720 USD if we packed on Thursday. Somehow, the 595 offer seemed too low, since as near as I could figure from the rates we were given earlier by both companies, that the charge for Thai Airways would be something around 575 USD? Puzzled, we decided to put the decision off until tomorrow, so instead we had a light dinner and later went out for a couple of beers.

1/24 Not Touring Kathmandu
 

Our plan for today was to see some of the sights in Kathmandu. We woke to another cold morning and made our way across the street to the Elbrus House for breakfast on their sunny terrace. While waiting for breakfast, I checked my email and realized that I had received a rather cryptic message from Eagle Eyes Exports. The message said that I had left my “Griffin” at his office and to either call or come by and pick it up. My Griffin? Re and I puzzled over this for a few minutes and I then realized that I had shown Jeewan pictures of our previous crates on my iPhone. That was the only thing I could have left in his office, and once we got back to the room, I could not find my phone. After 9:00 am we walked to his office, and sure enough, the only writing on my iPhone is the tiny, embossed Griffin logo on the protective case. Mystery solved. We reconfirmed with Jeewan that we would see him at 10:30 on Thursday and went back to the guesthouse to pack, because today there was a room open at the Elbrus House for us.

After carrying our bags down three flights of stairs from our current room, then up five flights of steps to our new room, we found that our new room was actually less deluxe, but it promised a hot shower. While I was reading in my favorite chair, there was a knock at our door. Since I was “indisposed,” Re answered it and found Suraj and Sara from Eagle Export. I couldn't hear what was said through the closed bathroom door, but a few minutes later, Re told me that they really want our business and offered us a rate of 550 USD. Now thoroughly confused, we walked back to Eagle Eyes and spoke to Jeewan about the rate. Jeewan pulled out his binder of old air waybills and showed us the actual rates charged by Thai Air Cargo. For a shipment under 500 kgs, the rate was 105 NR per kg, plus 12 NR per kg fuel surcharge, 200 NR for air waybill preparation, 8000 NR for dangerous goods fees. Our crate is 320 kgs, which meant that the charges from Thai Air Cargo alone would be nearly 570 USD at the current exchange rate. That means Suraj would not only lose 20 bucks, but he would also be eating the cost of building the crate and paying the warehousing and other bribes needed at the airport? Jeewan still refused to say anything bad about Suraj (his cousin and former employee) and offered to return our deposit if we decided to ship with Suraj instead. Maybe I am extra cautious since our experience in Dar Es Salaam, but I just did not trust Suraj. He seems way too slick. We decided to stick with Jeewan and the higher rate because he had been extremely straightforward with us and did not badmouth his competition, while the same could not be said about his competition.

After all this to-ing and fro-ing, it was nearly 2:00 pm, so our touring plans were canceled. Instead we had some lunch and returned to the guesthouse to research the Customs process in Bangkok and transportation to and from the airports. Wanting as hot a shower as possible, we waited until after 4:00 pm to give the solar water heater maximum amount of sunshine. Our shower was steamy, steamy hot and was well worth the wait. Since we were now both so clean, we decided to get a little dirty before dinner. Later that evening, we went out for a splurge dinner, where Re had a steak with Bernaise sauce, and I had a big, genuine, beef hamburger for the first time since I can't remember. While the food was pricey, it did include an after dinner Irish coffee, which was a nice way to finish the evening.

1/25 Durbar Square
 

Since today was our only chance to get out and see any sights, we picked Durbar Square, the nearest tourist site, as our destination. We found one of the added benefits of our new room when we woke up. This building seems to hold heat much better than any other we've stayed in in Nepal, and consequently, the air wasn't quite so brisk when we got out from under the covers. The other thing we immediately noticed, was how eerily quiet it was this morning. There were no horns or engines to be heard. After we got dressed, we headed out to the terrace for breakfast and our host told us of the reason for the silence. After the fuel shortage around the New Year, the government allowed the oil company to raise the price on all their products. People were understandably upset about this, so today there was a general strike. This meant that virtually every business was closed and there were no vehicles, other than police, on the roads. The lack of traffic made for an easy walk to Durbar Square, where along the way, we saw or heard the occasional crowd of angry protesters, marching and chanting in the streets. The few businesses that dared to open up, would slam down their roll-up doors whenever they heard a crowd approaching. It was actually kind of fun to see.

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The Hanuman-dhoka Durbar Square is a UN World Heritage site, located in central Kathmandu. It is a collection of temples and shrines, both Hindu and Buddhist, spread over several blocks. Once we got to the ticket office we were somewhat shocked to see that the admission price had gone up substantially. As I mentioned before, we are using the 2006 version of the Lonely Planet in PDF format, and then, the admission price was 2.50 USD. At the ticket office we found that the ticket price had skyrocketed to over 9 USD per person, but decided that since this was the only cultural thing we had time to see in the Kathmandu valley, we would pay the price.

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Over the next several hours, we wandered through the temples and museums and were lucky enough to catch a glimpse of the “Living Goddess.” The Kumari is one of a succession of young girls or women who are considered to be the living incarnation of the goddess, Taleju. The current Kumari appeared to be between 8 and 10 years old, and she honestly looked a little bored. Middle of the afternoon, we headed back to our guesthouse. Since all the restaurants were still closed, the only food we were able to find was a couple of delicious, cream-filled donuts, which we ate as we walked.

Back at the guesthouse, we continued to search for information about the Customs situation at the Bangkok Airport. Suraj had said that Customs was closed on the weekends, but it appeared from the airport website, that Customs would be open on Saturdays and Sundays. Since we and our bikes are flying to Bangkok on Friday, we reserved a hotel near the airport for Friday and Saturday nights with the plan of picking up the bikes on Saturday morning. We enjoyed yesterday's late afternoon hot shower and apres shower activities so much that we repeated it today. We were relieved to see that after the sun went down, some of the restaurants reopened. We made a dinner of falafel wraps and fries and celebrated Re's first day without coughing in over two weeks.

1/26 Bike Stuffing
 

It felt a little like Christmas when we got up this morning because we were both excited and ready to go. Last night, Re put together most of the stuff that was on our list to take to the airport. We weren't scheduled to meet Jeewan until 10:30, so we had some breakfast and waited for the morning to pass. Around 10:15 we fired up the bikes and rode to Eagle Eyes Export. When we arrived, Jeewan introduced us to his brother, who was to lead us to the airport on his motorbike and handle the paperwork there, as well. Jeewan said we needed to hurry, as today, the students were striking, and traffic would be shut down after 11:00 am. We followed the brother through the heavy traffic for the five or so miles to the airport. At just about every intersection there were truckloads of police in riot gear who looked ready for anything. Once at the airport, the brother simply waved at all the officials, and we were allowed to pass all the security checkpoints. After he parked his bike, he waved us into the warehouse, where the craters were already nearly finished with our crate. We also spied four other crate bases that appeared to be sized for single motorbikes. Suraj's crew of four bikes was supposed to ship yesterday, but maybe they didn't due to the general strike.

Re and I got to work on the now familiar task of disassembling the bikes for shipping. A couple of minutes later, the brother came over and asked how much petrol we had in the bikes. We replied that it was less than a liter, but that we would drain it. He smiled and said we didn't need to, but if anybody asked, we should say we did. All of a sudden, we heard four big bikes in the parking lot, and into the warehouse pulled Brian and Tanja on their DRZ400s, and Stefano and Annamarie, an Italian couple who are also traveling the world. We said our hellos and got back to work. While I started removing the front wheels and fenders, Re disconnected the batteries and got to work on the handlebars.

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Forty-five minutes later or so, we were lifting the bikes onto the crate base. The craters assisted us in getting the bikes centered and then one of them built little blocks to hold the forks. We then waited a few minutes for the Customs officials to appear and make a halfhearted attempt to match some of the numbers on the bikes to our Carnets. Once they were satisfied, Re and I started loading in the extra bits, while the craters put the sides on the crate.

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Just before the top went on, we put our riding gear and helmets inside and then the crate was sealed. While I was chatting with Stefano and Annamarie, I apparently missed the crew of seven, rather small, Nepali gentlemen, lifting all 292 kg of our crate up onto the approximately 2 ft high scale table. I turned around in time to see them lift the crate off the table and set it on the floor. Again, we would be paying by volume, not weight, so our rate would be based on the 320 kg. Apparently, people are still cheaper than tools in Nepal, as the seven men then proceeded to push our crate across the floor and inside the secure Customs area. No forklifts or pallet jacks needed. Now we had to wait for our Carnets to be stamped, but apparently, the Customs official had disappeared.

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For the next hour, we stood around and chatted with the other bikers and marveled at how easy our crating process was compared with theirs. Our crate was actually a little bigger than we specified, but we were assured by the brother that we would not have to pay for the excess size. The other four crates, however, were all too narrow for the handlebars, and very nearly too small for the riders' luggage. We watched as all the handlebars had to be removed and turned sideways, and the headlight cowls also had to be removed from the DRZs. No one expected to have to do this, and it seemed especially silly since they were all going to have to pay based on the heavier actual weight rather than the volume, and slightly bigger crates would have flown for the same price.

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We were also glad to have our own ratchet straps, as the other bikes were tied down with twine?! Soon enough, our Carnets were stamped, and we bid our fellow travelers farewell, for today at least, since we'll be on the same plane tomorrow. The brother told us that after being closed from 11:00 am to 1:00 pm, the roads would probably close again after 3:00 pm due to the strike. Shortly after 1:00 pm we grabbed a cab for the 30 minute ride back into the city.

Once back in Thamel, we went right to Eagle Eyes Export to pay Jeewan and pick up our air waybill. Jeewan greeted us and asked how everything went. We assured him that everything went well and we were, once again, glad to have chosen his company. After paying Jeewan and concluding our business, we had a cup of tea and he told us a little bit about his relationship with Suraj. Suraj is Jeewan's cousin and worked for Jeewan for ten years. Suraj then left the business to open a very similarly named business on the same street a few years ago. Needless to say, Jeewan isn't really thrilled with the situation, and they apparently no longer speak to each other. After meeting Suraj and speaking with him on a couple of occasions and then seeing how different our experience was from that of Suraj's customers, we were very satisfied with Eagle Eyes Export (even if it did cost a few more dollars). On the way back to the guesthouse, we grabbed coffee and a donut and got to work repacking our bags for tomorrow. Later we had a most excellent dinner of focaccia and pasta at La Dolce Vita before heading back to the room for an early night.

5 miles in about 30 minutes. Traffic jams and riot police all the way.

1/27 This Land is Your Land, This Land is Thailand
 

Having done virtually all the packing last night, all we really had to do this morning was get up, shower, have some breakfast, and jump in a taxi to the airport. Nepal had other ideas. It got downright cold overnight, and we were up too early for the sun to have done much to heat up our bath water. Since we had just showered yesterday afternoon, we decided to skip the freezing water and instead, bundled ourselves up for what we hoped would be the last time this trip and went out to breakfast. Our host at the Elbrus House had said we should leave for the airport at 8:00 am. This seemed awfully early to me for an 11:20 am flight, but I thought maybe Khem knew something we didn't. We made it to the airport by about 8:20 and after having our bags opened and inspected by security, we got in line at the ticket counter. The baggage handler assured us we'd only have to wait 5 minutes for the counter to open; he lied. After about 30 minutes, a couple of gentlemen appeared and started turning on the computers at the desks. Over the next half hour, more staff appeared, and finally around 9:30 we were able to check in. Since we were the first people in line, it was a quick and painless process. We got two seats in front of the wing on the Everest side of the plane. This was one bit of advice we did pay attention to on this trip, since if the weather is clear, passengers on the left side of the aircraft have a view of the Himalayas for the first thirty minutes of the flight.

Then we waited some more. We spent our last Nepali rupees on coffees, some sort of weird pound cake, and some licorice candies. After a while, Brian and Tanja of the DRZ400s appeared, and we chatted about our trips and shipping experiences. Brian and Tanja seemed none too pleased with Suraj and Eagle Exports, since they felt that he tried to cheat them. Through some tough negotiations on their part, Brian and Tanja were able to get their final bill for their freight and personal flights reduced by 300 USD. It seems that Suraj has some air waybills which in addition to listing the actual amount due to Thai Airways, also list 20,000 Nepali rupees (250 USD) as a handling charge. A careful reading of the air waybill apparently reveals that the 20,000 rupees is actually refunded to Suraj. On top of this handling charge included on the air waybill, he also attempts to add another 8,000 rupees (or more) as his fee. Brian and Tanja caught on to this, and told him there was no way they were paying him twice. They also cornered him on his exorbitant price for their air tickets. A bit later, Stefano and Annamaria, the Italian couple riding KLE500s also arrived. It was interesting to hear how different everyone's trips had been so far, and it was nice to talk to some fellow travelers for a while. We also found out that, while our bikes were flying today, Suraj's customers' bikes weren't flying until Sunday. The rationale being that Customs is closed on the weekend (uh oh) and that storage charges would accrue if the bikes arrive on Friday and aren't picked up until Monday. Huh.

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We finally boarded around 11:30 am and found the plane to be plain and a little bit old. After takeoff, we rose above the clouds, and the captain identified several of the peaks we cruised past. The food service was good, and the flight was otherwise, unremarkable. We touched down in Bangkok on time and soon taxied to our gate. Stepping onto the jetbridge, we could feel the heat and humidity we'd been missing for the past month or so. There was a bit of a wait at Immigration, but we made it through without problems. After collecting our bags, we tried to slide through the “nothing to declare” lane but got nabbed and had to have our bags inspected. Apparently we were clean and were free to go. Once on the concourse, I found an ATM and was reminded of one of my least favorite things about Thailand: every ATM transaction is whacked with a 150 Baht (5 USD) fee. Grrrr. Confident that we would be able to pick up our bikes tomorrow, we said farewell to the DRZs and KLEs before we left the airport. Brian and Tanja are heading south almost immediately, but we might meet up with Stefano and Annamaria somewhere down the road.

Walking out of the airport to our shuttle van was literally and figuratively a breath of fresh air. The temperature was around 90 degrees and the humidity was high, but it felt great after being too cold for too long. The other notable difference here was the quantity and quality of cars. After nearly three months of Mahindras and Tatas, it was nice to see some German, Japanese, and American sheet metal. (I will never get tired of tatas ). I got even more excited on the short ride from the airport to our hotel. Everywhere I looked, there were cool underbones, street vendors selling food I wanted to eat, and women in shorts. It's the little things! Our hotel is very nice, more like a business hotel than a backpacker flop, and most importantly, it is clean – really clean. The bathroom is clean, the walls are clean, the floors are clean, the sheets and pillows smell freshly laundered, and no 1/8” of dust on the top of anything. We finally took our long awaited shower before heading out to dinner.

The other big advantage to our hotel is that there is an extensive night market next door. Everywhere we looked there was delicious food and fruit. Unlike anywhere we've been for the past few months, the question wasn't, “Can I find something I would like to eat,” but instead, the problem was trying to make up my mind which of the fifty yummy looking things did I want to try today.

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We settled on some pork and noodle soup made with egg noodles, sliced barbequed pork, and pork-filled wontons. I love pork, and so does Re. We slurped down this yummy goodness and at the end of the meal we paid the nice lady 60 Baht (under 2 USD) for both of our soups. The night market is also next to a 7Eleven, where we picked up three 640 ml Chang Classics and two Cornetto ice cream cones, for the princely sum of 5 USD. I love Thailand. Back at the room, we ate our ice cream, drank our beers, and collapsed into bed, where we fell asleep on a real, innerspring mattress!


Nepal: We were in Nepal for 15 days and covered 270 miles, which equals only 18 miles per day. Being sick and injured sure cut into our riding time. We used 6.33 gallons of petrol, which equals 85 mpg. We spent 611 USD (not including our airline tickets, freight, or paragliding) which equals 41 USD per day.

1/28 Is Customs Open Today?
 

The short answer is No. After sleeping a little late this morning, we woke with plans to go to the airport and get our bikes. Re went to the unfortunately named, “Big C” store nearby to pick up breakfast supplies. She returned with a box of cornflakes, a four-pack of yogurt, and hot coffees. We ate breakfast and were planning on taking the 8:30 am shuttle to the airport, but Re suddenly did not feel well. While I did some reading, she napped until 9:00 am. When she woke, she felt much better, so we hopped on the 9:30 shuttle, and after dropping off the passengers at the airport, we were dropped at the International Cargo “Free Zone.” Some helpful employees directed us to where we could get our visitors' passes. Unfortunately, here we met an agent who informed us that we would not be getting our bikes until Monday morning. Part of Customs was indeed open on the weekend, but not the division we needed. Bummer.

As we walked out the front gate of the Free Zone, we realized that we were now over four miles away from our hotel, and we had no little, baby blue motorbikes to get back there on. What to do, what to do? We discussed taking a taxi back, but decided that I was too cheap, eh er... the walk would give us a chance to “acclimate” to the hotter weather. As usual, Re was up for anything, so we started walking. I did have the GPS with me, so it showed the route back to the hotel. Of course, it wanted us to take the roads, since that's what it's configured for, but Re and I thought that we could go overland and save some time and distance. We hopped a small fence and took off across an open field. A few hundred yards later, we came to a stop. In our path was an approximately 25 ft wide khlong (that's what they call a canal in Thailand) and we could go no further without swimming. Instead, we turned around and followed the road back to the hotel. We made it back to the hotel before lunchtime, and after cooling off in the AC for a few minutes, we walked back out to the market, where we bought some pork and rice sausages, chips, and cold club sodas.

Back at the room, Re took advantage of the 20 Baht washing machines in the hotel and laundered our fleece pullovers, long undies, and warm socks. For the rest of the afternoon, we worked on ride reports and blog posts, and plotted a rough itinerary for our first few weeks in Thailand. After the sun set, we returned to the night market for a different bowl of delicious soup. On the way back to the room, we picked up some cookies and beer before plopping ourselves on the bed and enjoying some English language TV. We were very disappointed to not get the bikes today, since we'd planned to leave for Kanchanaburi tomorrow. Instead, we'll have to find something to do on a Sunday in the outskirts of Bangkok.

1/29 Quest For a New Camera
 

After Re went out to fetch the makings for another yogurt and cornflakes breakfast, she rebooked our room online and extended our stay for another two days. While she was online, she saw that my dad was logged in to Skype, so I called my parents and spent nearly an hour and a half catching up with them. Since Kanchanaburi is too far to walk, our new plan for the day was to try to find a camera to replace the one that broke when Re landed on it in India, or at least to try to get the screen repaired. Since we were so far out of the city (our hotel is about 22 miles east of Khao San Road) we needed to find a cheap and easy way to get to one of the malls. I saw online that the MBK Mall in the Siam Square area was supposed to have lots of electronics on the 4th floor. We looked at the maps and saw that there was a commuter rail station a couple miles from our hotel with a stop in common with they Skytrain line which would take us to the mall. We strapped on our sandals and made for the train station. The GPS said it was 2.2 miles to the station, and it was a long, hot walk.

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We made it to the station around noon, only to discover that the next train wouldn't leave until 1:15 pm. Sigh.

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We decided to take the opportunity to get lunch from one of the vendors in the train station. After a yummy lunch, we paid our 6 Baht each for our train tickets and waited patiently for the train. It arrived on time and we boarded for the 45 minute journey into town. The first few stops were clearly marked, but a couple of times, the train seemed to simply stop along the tracks, and people just hopped off. The 45 minutes came and went, and we still didn't see anything that looked like our stop. Finally, the train arrived at Hualumphong Station. Crap! We missed our stop.

On the map it didn't appear to be that long a walk, so we decided to hoof it. Once we got outside the station, the GPS said it was actually another 2 plus mile walk to the mall. Other than being hot, the walk was fairly uneventful, except when we had to climb over a railing next to one of the khlongs and shimmy past the barbed wire in order to climb onto the bridge that led to the mall. Just before we reached the mall, Re spotted a Tesco Lotus Hypermart, and we know what is in a Tesco Lotus Hypermart- a Dairy Queen. Since we were hot and sweaty, we decided that ice cream was the antidote. They have some really good Blizzard flavors here in Thailand, so I got the mocha almond fudge, and Re had the coffee Oreo. Yum. We made it to the mall, found the fourth floor, and immediately got lost in a maze of mobile phone stores. We did eventually find some camera shops, but could not find either of the camera models we were looking for. We did find a similar model, but it had a bunch of features we don't need and seemed kind of expensive. We didn't leave empty-handed, since Re was able to have a new screen protector installed on her iPod Touch.

By now, it was after 5:00 pm, and we started heading toward the Skytrain station. As we exited the mall, I spotted the familiar golden arches. This is Thailand, so they do have hamburgers. No paneer sandwiches, no spicy chicken nonsense, they have 100% real beef (or as close as McDonald's ever gets). We both ordered super-size Big Mac meals and waited patiently for them to be made. The Big Mac was exactly as it would be in the US, but the fries were better. Thailand has no qualms with trans fats health nonsense, so the fries taste like McDonald's fries did ten years ago, and the super-size is as big as it was in the States ten years ago. It's not a little cup of fries, we got buckets o' fries.

Full of grease, we slid to the train and took it to the stop we missed earlier in the day. We climbed down out of the Skytrain station to the road level and sat by the tracks while waiting for the train to arrive. Fortunately, tonight we only had to wait about fifteen minutes before boarding the train. Forty-five minutes later, we arrived at our stop and then had to walk the 2.2 miles back to the hotel. The sun had gone down, so the walk was a little cooler, but it was still pretty warm. Once we reached the market outside the hotel, we bought some fruit, soda water, and drinking water to enjoy in the AC. After eating our watermelon, Re saw that her parents were on Skype and chatted with them for an hour. Before we went to bed, we repacked our daypacks for our hopefully successful trip to cargo in the morning.

7 miles or so, all on foot.

1/30 Will We Get Our Bikes Today?
 

Since Customs was supposed to open at 9:00 am, we had breakfast in the room before hopping on the 8:30 shuttle to the airport. Once at the International Cargo Free Zone, we procured our visitors' passes and made for the Thai Cargo warehouse. After a bit of walking, we found the office with the paperwork and got our papers. As we walked out the front doors, we ran into Brian and Tanja, who were on their way inside to pick up their paperwork. We said our hellos, compared a few notes, and then trekked back to the Customs building. Once we made it into the Customs building, the first stop was at the Registration department, where they looked at our air waybill and entered my name and particulars into the system. We then went downstairs to the Temporary Import Permit (TIP) office. Thailand is not a Carnet country, so instead we need TIPs. Here is where things got difficult. Apparently, the issue is that we have two bikes, but only one air waybill (AWB). They can't give us two TIPs if we only have one waybill. Therefore, we had to walk all they way back to the Thai Cargo office and have them split the shipment into two AWBs. That sounds simple enough, what could go wrong?

We again ran into Brian and Tanja and gave them the good news, and they soon found out that they needed to do the same thing, as did Stefano and Annamaria when they arrived. After getting the AWBs split, we then walked back to the TIP office. We now had to get photocopies made of several pieces of our paperwork and our passports. After getting twenty copies made, we returned to the TIP office, and they finally accepted our paperwork at about 11:00 am. A few minutes later, the other four riders appeared and added their paperwork to the pile. Re stepped out for coffee and donuts (from the Dunkin' Donuts! in the next building) and we sat around talking and eating while we waited. Around 11:50 am, I was summoned into the office, where they told me that our paperwork was ready, but that everyone else would have to wait until after 1:00, when people return from lunch. Re and I had to visit one more Customs office to have a manifest prepared, so we hurried to that office to try and get it done before lunch. Two very nice and helpful women typed some things in some computers and wrote some stuff in big ledgers and then handed us off to another office (I don't know what they do). It turns out that since our bikes arrived in Bangkok more than 48 hours prior to right now, that there is a 1,000 Baht (32 USD) fee to have the AWB split. Lovely. We were given a bill and ran upstairs to pay it. The nice woman who was helping us said she would complete the rest of the paperwork so that when we returned we would be free to go. By now, it was after 12:00, but people were willing to work into their lunch hours to help us out. After getting our receipt, we hurried back to the Manifest (?) office, where we received more bad news. The woman couldn't complete our paperwork because Re was “not in the system.” When we went to the Registration office earlier, we only had one AWB and it was in my name. So we needed to return to the Registration office and have Re entered into the system. Unfortunately, they were closed for lunch, so we now had to wait until after 1:00 before we could do anything else.

While I went back downstairs and rejoined our fellow riders in the TIP office waiting area, Re went out and scored us some chicken and rice lunches that included a cube of congealed blood each. Having eaten congealed blood a few times before, I know it's not my favorite food, but I will eat it. It was funny to see the different reactions from our fellow travelers as Re and I each ate ours. Finally, 1:00 arrived, and we were back trying to get all of the signatures. Our paperwork was eventually completed, and we returned to Thai Cargo after stopping at the Customs Inspectors office. It was now time to pay our storage charges. Since our bikes were dangerous goods and had been in Bangkok for over 24 hours, we had to pay storage and handling charges. If we could have picked them up on Saturday, the charge would have been about 42 USD, but since it was now Monday, the Thai Cargo webside said our charges would instead be about 74 USD. But no. Once we made it to the window to pay, I was informed that it would be 103 USD. Huh? None of the cashiers spoke enough English to explain the situation, so I waited patiently for a supervisor to arrive. Since we now had two AWBs, we had to pay two sets of charges, essentially paying double for everything except for the weight-based handling fee. When I objected, the supervisor smiled and said that he knew it didn't make sense, but it was the rule. How can you argue with that logic? Tired of ****ing with the paperwork, I paid and received final clearance to pick up our crate.

When we reached the warehouse area, we found that the DRZs and KLEs had leapfrogged us somewhere along the way. Brian and Stefano both also said that they had to pay twice for storage since their AWBs were also split. Grrr. I will say, I never felt that we were being ripped off or unfairly charged because we did receive receipts for everything we paid, just that this is a series of stupid policies. While we waited for our crate to appear from the bowels of the warehouse, we helped the other riders open their crates. Everyone was relieved to see that the twine held, and their bikes and gear all arrived in good shape. After twenty minutes or so, our crate finally appeared at about 3:00. Re and I got to work on the now familiar task of putting our babies back together, and by 5:00, we were ready to ride down the ramp and out into the evening air. The DRZs and KLEs were also nearly completed when we left, so we bid Brian, Tanja, Stefano, and Annamaria farewell before riding away. After one more stop to turn in some of our paperwork to an office, we rode out of the Free Zone and onto the streets of Bangkok.

My big concern now was how little petrol I had in my tank. Re has been getting better fuel mileage than I have, so I figured she had at least ten miles worth in her tank, but I knew I had less. I spotted a petrol station on one of our rides to the airport and knew it was only a mile and a half down the road. The bikes seemed to be enjoying their new found freedom as much as we were as we accelerated up to 45 mph and rode towards the petrol station. I did make it, and I got seven liters of 91 unleaded in my jerrycan. Without stopping to transfer any to the bike's tank, we made for the hotel. About a mile from the hotel, my bike stopped accelerating, and then it just stopped. I coasted to the side of the road, and much to the amusement of the locals, Re helped me put a couple liters in my tank. We fired them back up and zoomed back home. With the bikes parked safely at the hotel, we grabbed a quick shower and headed back to the market for dinner.


6 miles in 20 minutes! With 2 fuel stops! All of our airport fees totaled 140 USD.

:thumbup1:

Amazing RR guys! Keep it coming! You're an inspiration!

underbones
 

a grand read enjoying it :mchappy:

This is incredible. What an example you are.

1/31 Stay Another Day/Bike Maintenance
 

Our plan was to head to Kanchanaburi today, but while reassembling the bikes yesterday at the airport, I recalled all the maintenance I had been putting off. I decided that today was the day to get the work done. We were way overdue for an oil change, since we'd covered nearly 4,000 miles since our last one in Ooty. I also wanted to check/adjust the valves since we hadn't done that since Malawi (over 6,000 miles ago). Re had also mentioned that her chain was making noise on the ride to Kathmandu. So all this needed to be done today.

After we got up and had breakfast, the first task was to actually wash India off the bikes, particularly the engines, to give me a clean work surface. I had spied a hose out front that the hotel staff used each morning to wash their shuttle vans. While Re asked if we could use it to wash our bikes, I walked to the Tesco and bought what I assume was a toilet brush with which to remove the caked on dirt. The mud that had solidified on the bottom of the bikes so thickly covered the cylinder heads that you couldn't actually see the bolts that secure the valve adjustment ports. When I returned, Re told me we could use the hose, so I wheeled the bikes around while Re got a rag and the soap we bought in Zimbabwe. Re got busy washing the bikes while I reviewed the valve adjustment procedures in the shop manual. Re finished washing duties around 11:00 am, so we left them in the sun to dry. Since we had a little time before lunch, Re made use of the washing machines in the hotel and washed our Dariens. With clean gear and bikes, we should be free of the India poop-mud.

Then we went out in search of some lunch. A few blocks down the street, we found a soup vendor who was doing a booming business with the locals. We weren't really sure what kind of meat was in the soup, but we ordered two bowls of it anyway. When it arrived, it had the familiar look of some soups we've eaten before, with some pale meatballs that have the texture I imagine a Superball would have, some sliced, pressed meat, some minced meat, and a stuffed wonton. All the meat tasted vaguely fishy, and I still don't know what it was, but it was good and at 75 cents a bowl, it was budget-friendly to boot.

After lunch, we got out the tarp and the tools and got to work. We started with an oil change for my bike. With Re's assistance, we soon had the oil changed, the filter screen cleaned, and everything bolted back together. Because of the Symbas' nearly horizontal motor configuration, it's less messy to adjust the valves while the engine is drained of oil. Before refilling the bike with 800ccs of the semi-synthetic motorcycle oil I purchased at the gas station, I checked the valves. Both the intake and the exhaust on my bike were an RCH tight, but still within spec. Since I was already in there, I reset them. With all the covers back on, we filled the bike up with oil and reinstalled the leg shields. Then we started work on Re's bike, where the first order of business was to investigate the source of the chain noise. Re's chain case was mangled pretty severely when the bolt backed out of the rear hub outside of Windhoek, Namibia, and it occasionally needs a little “adjustment” with the hammer to keep it from rubbing. I assumed this was the case again, but when I removed the chain case, I saw that her sprocket was wobbling again. The ****ing bolts that I had Loc-tited in place in Windhoek had come loose again. We removed the rear wheel, and two of the four nuts that hold the sprocket to the hub fell out onto the ground. Son of a bitch. We removed the hub, the staked washers, and the other two remaining bolts (which were also loose), pounded the washers flat, and then reassembled everything using lots more blue Loc-tite. We then reinstalled the hub, the rear wheel, and adjusted the chain, before reinstalling the chain case and assorted other ancillaries. With Re's rear end now sorted out, we got to work on the oil change and valve adjustment. No drama here. Re's intake valve was also an RCH tight, but her exhaust valve was spot on. After buttoning everything back up and refilling her bike with oil, we pronounced the bikes good and cleaned up our work area. By now it was nearly 5:00 pm, and we were filthy, soaked with sweat, and starving.

We had our showers, and after a bit, headed back to the market to find some dinner. Having had soup of some variety for one meal each day since we arrived, we decided to branch out a little this evening. In addition to having food stands with seating areas, many vendors in the market sell food for takeaway. We decided to go that route this evening, so while I ran back to the room and grabbed our bowls and forks, Re bought us some rice and some of the most delicious pork I have ever eaten. Pork: it's the meat of kings. Re and I arranged to meet at the picnic tables in front of our hotel, but Re hadn't returned yet, so I ran over to the 7Eleven for some soda waters. I met her at the picnic tables, and she produced what was perhaps the most beautiful sight in the world. In addition to the sliced, grilled pork, she had two pork "lollipops." Imagine, if you will, a 1/4” thick piece of pork approximately 2.5” x 4” threaded on a wooden skewer. It was marinated in a sweet sauce, so once it was grilled, the sauce caramelized to make a slightly crunchy and sweet coating. The price for such deliciousness? About 30 cents each. Yum! After eating our lollipops, we dug into even more delicious grilled pork and rice and a really good salad. Apparently, we weren't the only ones salivating over the smell of the pork, as we were soon joined by a rather pregnant cat circling our feet. My mom taught me it was good to share with the less fortunate, so we happily dropped some bits of meat on the ground for our new best friend. After dinner, we waddled back up to the room and spent the rest of the evening repacking our bags, because tomorrow, we ride to Kanchanaburi.

2/1 Ride to Kanchanaburi
 

Our goal today was to ride to Kanchanaburi, which should only be about 110 miles. We got kind of a late start today since we stayed up late last night watching “Scott Pilgrim vs. The World” (we saw this movie on DVD before we left, and I remembered it as a fun movie, but didn't remember much of the plot. I enjoyed it again, up until the very end. How could he choose Ramona (the town bicycle) over Knives (the uber-hot Asian chick)?!?). We got up a little late, had breakfast, and did some last-minute research on guesthouses in Kanchanaburi. While reinstalling the Pelican top case on Re's twice-repaired rack, we saw that it had cracked AGAIN. Sigh. I guess we will be looking for a welder again. Re is hard on the equipment.

We finally checked out and hit the road around 10:00 am, and it was good to be riding. The GPS had mapped our route through Bangkok, but I was a little concerned since the route included the ring road around the city. There are a few highways in Thailand where motorbikes are not allowed, and sure enough, the ring road is one of them. As we sat facing the “No Motorbikes” sign, I got the feeling that it was going to be a very long morning. Fortunately, my GPS has an “avoid highways” option, and I flicked that on. We were quickly rerouted, but the route appeared to be at least ten miles longer. We dutifully followed our new directions, and the ride went better than expected. The roads we were sent down were not 25 mph stoplight to stoplight roads, but actually contained some long stretches where we could get the bikes up to 40 mph.

Once we made it past the western edge of Bangkok, we decided to stop for some lunch and found a roadside stand where we ordered chicken fried rice and some drinks. Judging from the reactions of the vendors, I don't think they get many farang stopping out this way. The revelation of the morning was just how polite and civilized the drivers of Thailand are. People use their mirrors, look over their shoulders, use turn signals, and generally seem to avoid trying to murder each other. It's going to take a while to get over the bad flinch I developed in India, but I like it here in Thailand.

Now that we were outside of the city, the roads opened up and we were able to cruise at 45 mph for long stretches between towns. We joined our fellow Thai motorbike riders on the shoulder of the road whenever there was overtaking traffic. We made it to Kanchanaburi by about 3:00 pm, and while I sat with the bikes, Re looked at five possible guesthouses. We settled on Sam's House, where we had a nice, AC room with good parking. After unpacking the bikes, we both took it easy for a little while, and then Re went to check the menus at a few of the nearby restaurants. Later, we went out for an excellent dinner at Mangosteen. I had the Tom Kha Gai with rice, while Re had her favorite meal (which she discovered the last time we were in Kanchanaburi), Tom Yam Soup with french fries to dunk in it. On the way back to the room, we swung by the 7Eleven for, what else? Ice cream and beer. Back in the room, we worked on ride reports for a while before calling it a night.

2/2 Erawan Falls
 

Our plan for the day was to ride the forty miles northwest to Erawan Falls. We visited the falls when we were here a couple of years ago and know they are a nice place for a hike and a swim. But mostly, Re wants to go for the fish. After an excellent night of sleep, we woke to a beautifully sunny morning. Breakfast was more of the same – yogurt, cereal, and coffee from the 7Eleven. After breakfast we showered and packed up our bathing suits, sunscreen, and water, and headed out to the bikes. As we pulled into Kanchanaburi yesterday afternoon, I heard an occasional clank from Re's rear sprocket, so I wanted to check that this morning before we left. I removed the four 10mm bolts and pulled of the chain guard to check the rear sprocket. Everything still seemed snug, so I inspected the inside of the chain case. Sure enough, there was a shiny spot where the chain lube has been rubbed off, so it appears that the master link is slightly rubbing the case. I massaged the area out a bit and put it back together.

With that sorted out, we headed for the falls. The road was beautiful and smooth, and we found ourselves clipping along at 45 mph. Just for shits and giggles, we wicked it all the way up to 50 (!) mph for a short stretch. As we rode west, we started getting into the edge of the mountains and had beautiful views all around us. Some stretches of the road were twisty fun, while others were lined with colorful bougainvillea and dark purple morning glories. We did stop for fuel once we neared the falls and found that it was about ten percent more than in town. We arrived at the turnoff for the falls shortly after 11:00 am and remembered from our last trip that there was an excellent food court at the turnoff. We chose more crispy pork, this time, accompanied by sticky rice and washed it down with a couple of fruit shakes and then made for the falls. The admission to the falls seems to have gone way up, since I don't remember it costing 200 Baht (6.75 USD) the last time we were here. We also had to pay an additional 20 Baht for each bike. We parked our bikes, locked up our riding gear and helmets, and started hiking for the falls.

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Erawan Falls has seven levels, and the seventh level is at the top of a 2 km, moderately strenuous climb. Paths in parks in southeast Asia are nothing like their US counterparts. Some areas of a path have you scrambling up and over boulders and using tree roots as steps. This was not so much a path as a suggested route. But the scenery was breathtaking, and the climb was good exercise. We went directly to the top and eventually settled into the surprisingly cool water.

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The seventh level is a the foot of a steep cliff face, and the years of limestone deposits have formed a smooth shell over the rocks. The best part of the pools at Erawan Falls is watching other people's reactions when they get in and first discover the fish. The pools are filled with small sucker fish that range from one to about four inches in length that just love dead skin. Within seconds of getting into the water, you feel the first kiss, usually on one of your feet. If you sit still long enough (like Re does) you will have twenty to thirty of these little fish nibbling away on your feet, calves, and occasionally, fingers. The sensation takes some getting used to, and I find it rather ticklish, but Re loves it. Months of walking and riding have left her feet far from silky smooth, so the fish seem to find her especially yummy. Other people's reactions range from embarrassed giggling to involuntary yelps, and every once in a while somebody loses their footing and falls into the water. In the interest of full disclosure, the pictures here aren't from this trip. We did not bring our camera since the broken screen makes it difficult to use, so we're recycling pictures from our visit here a couple of years ago.

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But it's the same pools, the same sexy wife, and she brought the same bikini for this trip as well. After at least an hour at the seventh level, we hiked back down to the fourth level, which is our second favorite pool. It is a little more shady and has less people, so it's a nice place to relax.

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The humorous highlight of this afternoon occurred when one of the “cheeky monkeys” grabbed a couple's backpack and raced up a tree. The monkey was unable to open the bag and must have eventually gotten tired of people yelling at it, so it dropped the bag and went in search of something better. After soaking in the fourth level for a while, we saw that it was 3:30 pm, and since the park closes at 4:00, we started climbing down. As we descended, I heard the distinctive sound of thunder in the distance. Uh oh.

We made it to the parking lot at around 4:00, and the thunder had become more frequent. We put on our Dariens and helmets and rode out under darkening skies. After a few miles, sprinkles began to appear on our face shields, and it rained on and off for most of the trip back to Kanchanaburi. The rain stopped shortly before we pulled into town, and other than our gloves, we stayed dry. After another shower, we went out to our old standby, the Jolly Frog, for dinner. I had the always excellent chicken cordon bleu (2.50 USD) and Re had more tom yam and fries. Originally we were going to cruise down to the Dairy Queen after dinner but decided we'd had enough riding for one day. Instead, we returned to the 7Eleven for...what else?

90 miles in nearly 3 hours. Re's feet feel extra smooth on my calves!

2/3 Ride to Sukhothai
 

On our backpacking trip two years ago, we ended up in Kanchanaburi kind of by accident. We had returned to Bangkok from Cambodia on Christmas day with the intent of taking the train south to Malaysia. But the Christmas/New Year week is as big a holiday time in Thailand as in the US, and the first train we could get was on January 3rd. Frustrated, we decided to go anywhere but Bangkok and caught the first westbound bus to Kanchanaburi. After a brief visit, we were going to work our way down the peninsula by bus. But Kanchanaburi is a pleasant and inexpensive place to stay, so every day we stayed for just “one more day.” Yesterday afternoon, we felt the same pull and discussed staying just one more day. Over the past month, our trip lost momentum. We stayed three nights in Gorakpur due to illness, four nights in Lumbini also due to illness and injury, five nights in Pokhara, six nights in Kathmandu, and then five nights in Bangkok. We stayed as long as we did in some of these places due to shipping the bikes and for other good reasons, but we need to return to traveling every couple of days or so.

Today I chose an ambitious ride to try to break the spell of lethargy. Sukhothai is a city in central Thailand approximately halfway between Bangkok and Chiang Mai which has a set of ruins that are supposed to be Thailand's answer to the temples at Angkor Wat. The ride from Kanchanaburi to Sukhothai would be nearly three hundred miles, which would also be an answer to all of our relatively short rides of late. Not knowing how long it would take us to cover the miles, we rose early, had breakfast, loaded up the bikes, and were on the road by 8:00 am. While the morning wasn't too hot, it was very humid next to the River Kwai. The first part of our ride retraced the route we took from Bangkok before turning north and loosely following the Chao Praya River. Once underway, the humidity didn't seem to bother us so much, but the day did warm up.

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The ride was pretty. We passed through steeply jutting, low mountains, large areas of rice paddy, fields of sugar cane, and through a mix of rural agriculture and small cities. Maybe it was the breakfast, or maybe we're still getting used to the heat (again), but both of us felt sleepy while riding.

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We ended up stopping twice during the morning to stretch and have a drink and a snack. Once again, traffic was polite and predictable. Thai drivers apparently have the ability to turn their heads to see their mirrors and oncoming traffic. The roads were also good until we reached Nakhon Sawan, where they became variable. So far, the worst pavement in Thailand is still better than 99.4% of the roads in India. After a peculiar lunch of pork-filled steamed buns from the 7Eleven(?) we continued on towards Sukhothai.

As the afternoon wore on, the sky began to darken ahead. Approximately twenty miles from Sukhothai, a very strong wind kicked up and blew us around our lane. Soon we could hear the sound of thunder and the gray clouds were occasionally lit by bolts of lightning. Yay. When the first light drops appeared on my visor, we pulled over to zip our vents and install our custom Hefty daypack covers. We were only about twelve miles from Sukhothai when the heavens opened and dumped very heavy rain. The road was soon covered with standing water, but at least the wind died down. Fortunately the rain dwindled to almost a stop by the time we pulled up in front of our guesthouse. We pulled our bikes under the awning and got off to assess our wetness. It's been many months since we rode in any significant rain and have clearly forgotten a few things. I failed to hike up my pants and consequently, my zipper was not covered, resulting in a wet groinal area. Somehow Re and I both missed making sure our pant legs covered the tops of our boots. We both ended up with standing water in our left boots. Doh!

Our guesthouse was very nice, and we opted for a room with AC to ensure that our gear and boots dried overnight. Once we got everything situated in the room, we pulled out the Lonely Planet to try to find a place for dinner. Nothing really struck our fancy or was too far away, so where else? The night market, of course. We strolled through the night market and looked at all the food vendors. There were a few places where farang were eating, and of course they had English menus, but the food was at least twice as expensive as it should have been. We continued on and eventually found a stand where many local people were eating. When the cook saw us peering at what she was making, she produced a menu that had some simple translations for the dishes. Of course, they were delicious, and of course, they were less than a dollar each. We added a couple of fruit shakes and later, bought a watermelon to eat in the room. Except for the brief downpour, this was a good day.


300 miles in around 8 hours. I thought I heard my clutch slip a bit today, and I thought I did yesterday as well. I hope it's just the semi-synthetic oil I put in.

2/4 Touring Old Sukhothai
 

Our plan for the day was to tour Old Sukhothai, but the plan was in doubt when we woke to very overcast skies. All of the sights are outdoors, and rain would certainly be a bummer. We checked three different weather services on the internet, and they placed the chance of precipitation between 60 and 90%. For tomorrow, however, it ranged from 0 to 50%. Once again, the stayanotherday-itis reared its ugly head. We could just hang out today and go see the sights tomorrow. This actually brought up the very real question of, what exactly is our itinerary for the next few weeks? Our Thai visas expire on February 25th, so we need to be somewhere else by then. Our working plan, so far, has been to ride north through Chiang Mai and Chiang Rai via the scenic route and then go to Laos somehow. That plan could take anywhere between five and a hundred and seventeen days, so we decided to narrow it down a little. The plan we settled on is to ride to Mae Sot, then Mae Sariang, Mae Hong Son, and then to Chiang Mai, where we will spend three to four nights. From there we ride to Chiang Rai for a couple of nights before looping through the Golden Triangle and into Chiang Khong. From there we will cross into Laos, and... that's as far as we got. We're pretty sure that we will ride the length of Laos and cross into Cambodia near Stung Treng.

By now the sky was looking clearer, so we decided to hop on the bikes and ride to Old Sukhothai. The ruins here cover five different zones, but the central zone is supposed to be the one to see. We paid our 100 Baht and got our tickets. Thailand is a civilized country – they actually let us ride our motorbikes into the historical park.

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Sukhothai is considered the first independent Thai kingdom that emerged from the ruins of the Khmer Empire. But the newfound independence didn't stop them from largely copying the artistic style of the Khmer.

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The historical park is filled with a collection of temples and Buddhas. We could see a definite Angkor influence in some of the temples, but only if we squinted and held our tongues just right.

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Nevertheless, there were some beautiful and impressive temple ruins, some of which were surrounded by wide moats or sat on the edge of large, artificial lakes. We spent the next several hours touring the sights with a constant eye on the sky. The clouds, once again, turned very dark, and we expected to have to run for cover at any minute. Thankfully, the rain never materialized and we were able to continue our tour.

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We stopped to get a photo of the bikes next to Wat Chang Lom. Here we met a group of tourists from Vermont and spent some time chatting with them about our travels. After snapping a couple of photos, we decided to head for lunch.

It was now mid-afternoon, and we were getting hungry. We saw some roadside stands and again practiced our “look, point, and hold up two fingers” method of ordering, and ended up with another delicious and inexpensive meal. On the way back to the hotel, we swung into the Big C to look for a camera. We didn't find anything that met our needs, so instead, Re bought a cute, short skirt. After seven months, she is tired of wearing the same three pairs of not sexy pants. We got back to the guesthouse around 4:00 pm and decided to work on a few ride reports and firm up our northern Thailand plans. Later, we returned to the night market and had a crunchy noodle dish and some skewers of chicken and sausage.


21 miles in an hour. I adjusted my clutch and it seems to be doing okay.

2/5 Ride to Mae Sot
 

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When we backpacked around southeast Asia two years ago, we rented a Honda CB400 in Chiang Mai and rode south along the Burma border to Mae Sot. There, we crossed into Burma for about an hour and returned to Thailand, thereby giving us a new fifteen day Thai visa. We enjoyed the ride so much that we decided to do it in reverse this time. Our goal for the day was to ride to Mae Sot and spend the afternoon seeing the town. We woke to a beautifully clear and sunny day, and after having some coffee, we hit the road for the short ride.

It was a relatively boring ride today, which is actually a good thing for a change. Another feature of the roads in Thailand that make them so enjoyable is the presence of excellent signage. Whereas a GPS was mandatory in India, you could navigate the highways of Thailand with the simplest of road maps. The first half of the ride took us to Tak. Between Sukhothai and Tak, the road was really good, mainly four-lane, with monotonous scenery. The roads were lined with small, deciduous trees that were mostly leafless. It reminded me of riding through downeast North Carolina. Once we passed through Tak, the road surface became a little bumpy and variable, but the road got much more entertaining. The road twisted and turned past mountains and through forests. The elevation in Tak was approximately 20 feet above sea level, but we eventually crossed the mountain range at over 3,000 feet before descending into Mae Sot. Our bikes did have some trouble chugging up the hills, and several times we found ourselves in second gear, struggling to maintain 20 mph on some of the steeper grades. Apparently my clutch adjustment yesterday didn't help, since I very clearly heard it slipping on several occasions. If this continues, I will need to change the oil again, this time, with 100 percent dinosaur squeezins. Besides the roads and the scenery, the other nice thing about riding in the mountains was how cool it was. I would guess that the temperature was in the low 70s for most of the ride.

Once we descended into Mae Sot, however, the temperature climbed dramatically, and the bright sun made it feel even warmer inside our Dariens. We had a difficult time finding our preferred guesthouse, and while we rode around the blocks and even got off to walk to find it, I just kept getting warmer. With the help of some telephone company employees, we eventually found the Green Guesthouse, hidden down a small road, behind the police station. I stayed with the bikes while Re went to look at the rooms and stupidly, did not remove my jacket. By the time Re returned and gave the thumbs up on the room, I was not feeling very well at all. While Re unpacked the bikes, I stayed in the room and laid under the AC, trying to cool off. After 30 minutes or so, I felt much better, and since it was 1:00 pm, we decided to find some lunch. One of the recommended places nearby was a Canadian-owned restaurant that is known for its Mexican food. We each ordered crunchy tacos with ground beef and a side order of refried beans. Having been disappointed by Mexican food elsewhere on this trip, we were a bit skeptical of what we would be served. We were pleasantly surprised to find that our food was delicious and somewhat authentic. The rest of the afternoon we walked around the town and through the many different market areas. After picking up a watermelon, we went back to the room and spent the rest of the afternoon taking it easy and reading fiction. Later that evening, we walked out to find the night market, where we had a yummy dinner of noodles and pork. On the way back to the room, we picked up the variety 3-pack of seaweed flavored potato chips and some Changs. Earlier in the afternoon, we met the resident cat at the guesthouse, and when we returned, we invited her in our room for some chips. She ate every chip we gave her, but we eventually had to boot her out so we could go to bed. She must have enjoyed the chips, because several times during the night we heard her meowing outside the door.


113 miles in 3.5 hours. My clutch is making me a little nervous.

2/6 Ride to Mae Sariang
 

When the alarm went off at 7:00 am, I hit the snooze, only to be awakened by the squeaky cat outside our door. She very insistently wanted us to get up (and presumably, give her more seaweed flavored chips). Unfortunately, we had no more potato chips, so she had to settle for a scratch. After a while, I kicked Re out of bed and we set to the all too familiar task of packing everything up again. Our guesthouse offered inexpensive breakfast food, but we were unable to find anyone to order it from. While I loaded the bikes, Re hoofed it to the 7Eleven and returned with coffee and cereal. We've been skipping a large breakfast for the past few days since it seems to make us sleepy mid-morning.

When we turned out onto the road around 9:00 am, it was in the low 60s, so we stopped to zip our vents before continuing northward. We were immediately into the hills, but initially the roads were very good. There were some steep climbs, and a few times, we found ourselves in first gear chugging up the hills at 10 mph.

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On other sections, we were able to maintain 45 mph as we swooped through hundreds of corners. The scenery today was beautiful too. In sections we rode along the Moei River and could see across it into Burma.

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One interesting thing we saw along the way was the refugee camps for the Burmese people who have fled the fighting in their home country.

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The buildings themselves were fascinating to see: the walls appeared to be "unrolled" bamboo, and the roofs are thatched with teak leaves.

Other times, we rode up higher into the mountains, through flowering trees, teak forests, and random banana trees. The bad news of the day is that my clutch was slipping significantly for the first half of the day, but then it mysteriously did not for the second half. Huh? Part way through the trip we came upon some very large, orange, temporary road signs, but we had no idea what they said since they were covered in squiggles and dots. We soon discovered that they must have said something about landslides and damaged roads, because that's what we found. Thailand suffered from massive rains and flooding last year, and this area clearly experienced a lot of rain. On this stretch of road, we passed through areas where the hillsides had obviously collapsed and covered the road in feet of dirt and mud that has since been removed. Here the pavement was chewed up but still rideable. In other areas, the road surface was completely stripped away, and we found ourselves riding on dirt and gravel. Then suddenly, we rounded the corner and came upon a brand new section of pavement. For some unknown reason, here in the middle of the mountains, was perhaps, 10 miles of a beautifully smooth asphalt roller coaster. The road twisted and turned and rose and fell around the mountain side. This was the funnest piece of road I have ridden since I can't remember when. I found myself wishing for one of my old TZs or VFR, or even one of the CBR250s they rent here. If it was this much fun on our overloaded Symbas, it would have been an absolute blast on something faster. Too soon, it ended, and we found ourselves riding again on rough pavement for most of the remainder of the day.

We arrived in Mae Sariang at around 3:00 pm and stopped at the day market for two unbelievably delicious and crispy chicken leg quarters and two orders of sticky rice. We walked to the 7Eleven and bought drinks, and not seeing another place for our picnic, sat on their front step and ate our lunch. The fried chicken in Thailand is like no other fried chicken I have eaten (and believe me, I have eaten a lot of fried chicken in my life). Re describes it as being like crack. It ain't healthy, but I don't care. After we licked our fingers clean, we rode to our guesthouse and checked in for a lazy afternoon. We stayed at this guesthouse last time we were in Mae Sariang and knew it had an excellent (and cheap) restaurant, so later in the evening, we had a great dinner there before walking out to pick up ice cream to eat with our Changs.

160 miles in 6 hours. Besides my slipping clutch, this was an awesome ride!

2/7 Ride to Mae Hong Son
 

We enjoyed our lunch on the steps of the 7Eleven yesterday that we returned today for breakfast. After packing up the bikes, we had an alfresco breakfast of coffee and cereal, just like the finest homeless people do. At 9:00 am, we rode off into the cool and foggy morning. If I thought yesterday's ride was the best ride of the trip, I was wrong. Today's ride was even better.

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The roads today were a beautiful, green roller coaster ride through the mountains. There were some bad stretches of pavement, but the vast majority of the ride was on smooth tarmac.

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Between the cool air and the brown leaves on the trees, it reminded me of late fall rides on the Blue Ridge Parkway if the BRP had banana and teak trees. My clutch didn't slip at all today, even with the frequent trips down through the gears.

We did have some engine troubles, though. We refueled at the Shell Station just before we left Mae Sariang, and that's when our troubles began (although I didn't realize it soon enough). My bike seemed to be low on power and took a lot of cranking at wide open throttle in order to start. Re was having similar hard starting issues, and her bike would lurch when climbing hills at low revs. Totally puzzled by what was going on, we swapped bikes so I could attempt to diagnose the problem. Sure enough, as revs fell, the engine began to hit and miss, and the bike lurched. The revs had not dropped so far that the engine was actually lugging, but it was acting more like a fueling problem. I found that if I backed off the throttle and then rolled it open halfway, the engine would run normally. Low revs + WOT = no fuel? The best I could figure would either be a partially clogged main jet, or perhaps it had something to do with 17,000 miles on the original fuel filter? Either way, I wasn't fixing it here,so we continued on, just a little more slowly when climbing hills. When we reached the crossroads at Khun Yuam, we pulled over in a parking lot and I decided to swap Re's sparkplug for one of the used ones we were carrying. The plug I removed was sooty and black, showing that the bike had indeed been running rich? Lack of fuel flow should create a lean condition and a much lighter colored sparkplug. This stretch of road is fairly remote, and I did not see any bike shops in which to get a new fuel filter or sparkplug, so we fired up the bikes to continue northward. Both of our bikes were nearly impossible to start, however, and this is when I made the connection between both of our bikes running poorly. While we had different symptoms, the common denominator seemed to be the fuel we bought that morning. Since our last visit to Thailand they have started selling gasohol in both 91 and 95 octane varieties, but I have been sticking with the real, unadulterated bensin (as they call it here). I am 97% positive that the fuel I bought this morning came from a red pump and not a green one, but the fuel was now my chief suspect.

We rolled into Mae Hong Son around 2:00 pm, and after a GPS-induced detour, we eventually found a guesthouse and scored an ensuite fan room with mattress on the floor for the low, low price of 10 USD. A nearby restaurant is well known for its khao soy (my favorite northern Thai noodle dish), but when we walked there, we found it was closed... for today only. What?! Instead we went to a place across the street that had some delicious food, but no khao soy. I drowned my sorrow in a plate of pad see ew, and then we hopped on the bikes and rode to the Tham Pla National Forest. On the way out of town , we stopped to get 7.6 liters of, hopefully better, fuel in our jerrycan. We usually refuel around the 95 mile mark, but I decided to run deep into the tanks in an attempt to get rid of all the suspect fuel. At 107 miles, my bike coughed, so we dove for the side of the road and refilled our babies (107 miles from 1.04 gallons, not too shabby ). The effect of the new fuel was dramatic and immediately apparent. My bike fired up instantly, and once we were underway, Re gave me the thumbs up that her bike was running fine. I still decided to get some new sparkplugs and fuel filters at the first opportunity, but the new fuel seems to have solved our problems.

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After refueling, we continued to Tham Pla, which translates as the Fish Cave. The guide says, “(t)his beautifully landscaped pond is attached to a small crevice, where thousands of fish struggle to swim up an underground stream. Mysteriously, very few ever come out. The Shan villagers who look after the fish never catch them, believing that the spirit of the mountain guards the fish from harm. As a result of their protected status, they grow to be quite large, with some more than 80cm long.”

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Many people come here to picnic and feed the fish. The funny thing is that since the fish are holy, they are supposed to be vegetarians, so you can buy bags of salad to feed to them.

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It's a nice place to spend an hour or two. After a relaxing afternoon off the bikes, we rode back into town and found our way to the night market for dinner.

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On the way back to the room we picked up some cookies and Changs. Chang: the beer with the taste for generic Oreos!

162 awesome miles in 5 very enjoyable hours of riding. Glad the bike issue turned out to be fuel-related.

2/8 Ride to Chiang Mai
 

After hitting the snooze button a half dozen times, I finally crawled out of bed around 7:00 am and peeked out the window. I could see that it was foggy in the mountains, so I hopped back in bed and we figured out a way to entertain ourselves while the fog cleared. Feeling thoroughly entertained, we got up and had breakfast at our guesthouse before packing up the bikes and riding out at 8:30 am.

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Even though we delayed our start, it was still foggy and chilly for the first hour or so of the ride.

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Today's ride was another asphalt roller coaster through the green, green mountains. I've run out of superlatives with which to describe the roads here, so you should just come ride them for yourself!

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The roads today had some crazy switchbacks that either went dramatically uphill or downhill. We found ourselves in first gear many times on the steep inclines. The bikes are running fine on the new load of fuel, which is very good news. My clutch is also behaving itself, so maybe I won't need to change the oil so soon. The other cool thing on the ride today was all the farang (tourists) on rented motorbikes of all displacements. The Chiang Mai loop (as it's called) is quite famous, and for good reason. It is very easy to come to Chiang Mai and rent bikes between 125cc and 650cc and just go riding. The roads are well signed, and many towns along the way have good accommodations and excellent food. Oh, did I mention, literally, thousands of corners? If you come to ride it yourself, just make sure that you enjoy excellent riding, cheap bike rental, excellent food, cheap beer, and friendly people. But, be sure to bring your own helmet, gloves, and jacket.

We made it to Chiang Mai around 2:30 pm but found that all three of our preferred guesthouses were full. Re set out on foot and found us a very nice place, run by a German man and his Thai wife. It was a bit odd to be the only non-German speaking guests, but it was a nice place, and the price was right too. I recalled from our last visit to Chiang Mai that just outside the moat, there was a McDonald's. Since it will probably be a month or more before we're back in Big Mac country, we decided to head there for a late lunch. After lunch, we walked around town to get reacquainted with the area before heading back to the room to cool off a bit. At this time of year, the temperatures in Chiang Mai are rather comfortable, with lows near 60 overnight, but in the afternoons, the temperature spikes into the low 90s. Later that evening, we went to the night market for a light dinner of egg and cheese roti and some delicious fruit shakes and then called it a night.

160 miles in about 5 hours. Another awesome day of riding!

2/9 The Quest for a New Camera Continues
 

We slept in late today and then walked out to the 7Eleven for coffee. We returned to the room and researched possible places to buy a new camera to replace our damaged one. We have continued to use it even with a broken screen, taking many pictures and discarding the ones that are out of focus or badly composed, but it's getting tedious, so it's time for a new camera. But before we go camera shopping, it's time to go get my very favorite northern Thai food.

We discovered the joy of khao soi the last time we were here. It is a curry dish with both soft and crispy egg noodles in a rich, coconut and soy based soup and either chicken or pork. It's served with wedges of lime, shallots, and pickled mustard greens. In my opinion, it is one of the ten best foods in the world, and after we returned to the US from our last trip, Re found a recipe for khao soi and made it many, many times. Re was looking online for different khao soi joints and found one that was described as the best in all of Chiang Mai on Travelfish.org by an aficionado. That was all the encouragement we needed, so we rode out in search of the place. It's a tiny outdoor restaurant that is only open between 10:00 am and 2:00 pm and has no signage in English.

We found the place easily enough and after ordering two big bowls with chicken, we sat and waited in anticipation.

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Our food quickly arrived, and it was pretty damned good. I maybe biased, but I think I actually like Re's version better, but this bowl took a solid second place. We happily slurped down our soup, paid the lady 70 Baht (2.20 USD), and pledged to return tomorrow.

After our brunch, we rode to a camera store north of the moat and were shocked by the prices they were asking for their cameras. We have a short list of three models we're looking for, and this store had two of them, but at way too high of a price. The one Panasonic Lumix that we like would cost about 225 USD from Amazon.com, and we saw it in Bangkok for about 330 USD. Here, they wanted about 475 USD for it. It was a similar story with the Nikon on our list, the price was more than twice what it would cost in the US. A little disheartened, we rode to the mall by the airport. It contained a half dozen or so camera shops, but the the story here was the same: the rent, I mean, the camera, is too damn high. We sat around for a little while discussing our options, but the only thing we could agree on was a coffee Oreo Blizzard from the DQ in the mall. We decided to leave without buying a camera and struggle through with our current one, and maybe we'll replace it when we pass by Bangkok in a month or so.

We rode back to the guesthouse for a relaxing afternoon. Inevitably, the topic turned to food, and dinner tonight would be at Aroon Rai. We ate here on our previous visit and knew it was a great place for a particular Chiang Mai sausage. They also make a mean chicken and potato curry, and they were both as good as we remembered. It really was a beautiful night out, and we walked along the moat and enjoyed the weather and each other's company. Having not had our daily fruit shake yet, we walked back to the night market and ordered them there. On the way back to the room, we once again, picked up some ice cream and Changs. It's only when writing this that I realized how much crap we ate today.

10 miles in about an hour

2/10 One More Day in Chiang Mai
 

Since the first thing we needed to do today was go have another bowl of khao soi for brunch, we had some time to kill before 10:00 am. We got out the guidebook and the maps and plotted out our route for the next few days. Tomorrow we will ride to Mae Salong, with a ride to Chiang Rai the following day. After a couple days in Chiang Rai, we will head for Chiang Khong, which is where we will cross the border into Laos. We also emailed Tom (rep550) to see about meeting up for a drink this evening.

About 9:30 am, we started walking north toward yumminess. Along the way, we stopped and looked in at several of the bike rental agencies. Kawasakis are the most common big bikes since they are made locally, they somehow skirt the big bike regulations. The biggest seem to be ER-6Ns and Versys (Verses?), but my favorite is the D-Tracker, a 250cc supermotard. We made it to “Grannie's Khao Soi” at about 10:15 am and repeated yesterday's order. I don't know why, but today's bowl was much spicier than yesterday's.

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We walked back toward the guesthouse via a different route that took us past many of the Wats (Buddhist temples) in the middle of the old city.

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We stopped in at a couple of them and admired the decoration and peacefulness.

As we continued our way south, Re spied a bike shop, so we stopped in. We had been carrying one of our old sparkplugs to use as a visual aid, and it did the trick. None of the employees spoke English, but they were able to match our plug and sell us two new ones. The other parts we needed to find were new fuel filters. Since the filters were still in the bikes, the problem was how to ask for them. Before we left on this trip, Re downloaded a cool translation app for her iPod Touch. A couple of days ago, I used it to translate “fuel filter” from English to Thai. While it gave a phonetic pronunciation, I found it was easier to just show them the word in Thai. It worked. The guy who helped us walked directly to the bin and pulled out two new genuine Honda filters. We paid the approximately 7 USD for all four pieces and left happy that we got what we needed so easily.

The day got quite hot, so we continued back to the guesthouse to escape from the heat. When we got back, we found we had received an email from Tom with a place and time to meet. Excellent! We spent the rest of the afternoon researching our upcoming border crossing into Laos on HUBB, GT Rider, and Ride Asia. While I did this, Re worked on some blog posts, and then we headed out for an early dinner at the night market. Around 6:00 pm, we walked up to John's Place, where we met Tom and his friends, Peter and Dave. We spent the next several hours enjoying some good conversation and many Changs. Around 11:00 pm, we staggered home to bed.

2/11 Ride to Mae Salong
 

After last night's too many Changs, it was an ugly morning. I'm definitely getting too old for this shit, and Re is clearly, already too old (judging from the retching sounds in the bathroom). We really did have a good time last night, but we should know when to say when by now. Needless to say, neither of us was in any damned hurry to get on the road this morning. After some aspirin and water to help with our “dehydration” headaches, we eventually got the bikes loaded up. Around 10:00 am, we headed out for Mae Salong. We made it approximately half a mile before stopping for coffee and one of the best croissants we have ever had. Now, we were ready to go.

Our goal for today was Mae Salong, a small mountain town in the Golden Triangle, about 150 miles away. The first 30 miles of the ride north out of Chiang Mai was a continuous string of city and small towns, with no real open space. In the distance, we could see the mountains and were looking forward to getting back onto those roads. The next section of the ride twisted and swooped along the Ping River, but still no mountains. As it had on other days, the cool morning rapidly gave way to hot weather, and the heat was not helping with out dehydration headaches. After a while, we stopped for some seaweed flavored chips and soda waters at the 7Eleven (of course).

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Back on the road, we could still see the mountains, but instead found ourselves riding through straight and level farmland. The GPS counted down the distance to Mae Salong, and it was only in the final 15 miles that we finally reached the mountains. I knew that Mae Salong was supposed to be over 4000 feet in elevation, but we had been riding along at around 1200 feet. That meant the final 15 miles were quite a climb. We frequently found ourselves in first gear, climbing the hills at 10 mph, but it was beautiful.

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We literally rode along the spine of several ridges as we rode around the rim of a valley on the final leg into town.

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The landscape here consists of steep hillsides, some of which have been terraced for agriculture. This region used to be a huge opium producing area, but the Thai government has managed to eradicate most of the opium growing and replace it with tea and coffee production.

Mae Salong is a small town, so we easily found a guesthouse and were soon dropping our bags in our own little bungalow. We were finally feeling hungry, so we had a late lunch at our guesthouse. Since neither of us slept well the previous night, we retired to our bungalow for some relaxation and a nap. Suitably refreshed, we worked on ride reports until dinner and then found a local restaurant down the road for another delicious meal. After dinner, we went back to the guesthouse, sans Changs. I think it will be a few days before either Re or I will partake again.

150 miles in 6 hours. The bikes were struggling a little on the hills. I will need to put in the new fuel filters and plugs soon.

2/12 Ride to Chiang Rai
 

Our goal for today was to ride to Chiang Rai, but since it is only about 40 miles away, we decided to get up early and visit the morning market in Mae Salong. Mae Salong is an interesting town, because most of the people who live here are of Chinese descent, not Thai. The town is mostly populated by ex-soldiers and political exiles from the Kuomintang Nationalist Party, who were forced out of China after the 1949 revolution. Their first stop was Burma, but they were soon forced into Thailand, where they settled in the Mae Salong area. The Thai government liked having them there since they were anti-communist and knew how to fight. In addition to guarding Thailand's northern border, they made their living by guarding the local opium crops, but have now transitioned into legal crops. Chinese is the dominant language here, and most signs are in Chinese first, Thai second, and occasionally, in English.

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Around 7:00 am, we walked out to the morning market, which was an interesting mix of townfolk and members of the local hilltribes with a few monks collecting alms thrown in for good measure.

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The market is only open from 6:00 am to 8:00 am, but between those hours, there is a brisk trade in fruits, vegetables, meat, housewares, and breakfast. We browsed the selection and watched the people before selecting one delicious watermelon, two perfect mangoes, and some donuts right out of the wok. We carried our goodies back to the room and added two of the worst cups of coffee we have ever had to the meal. We hopped in the shower after we ate, then loaded up the bikes, and headed back down the mountain at around 10:00 am.

97 percent of the time, I love my GPS. But then, there's the other 3 percent. Today was one of the 3 percent days. Apparently, the road the GPS sent us down today was a mile shorter than going back to the highway on the road we came in on. Instead, the road we took was approximately one lane wide, and where it was paved, it wasn't paved very well.

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At first, it undulated up and down through small villages before it started the steep descent back to the highway. This is where the fun began. Did I say fun? I meant terror. The terror started gently enough, with an extremely steep descent down a paved, but potholed and covered with loose gravel section. This gave way to an even steeper section of road where the pavement had essentially disintegrated, revealing the rutted and ravined dirt below. The road here was also extremely narrow, and there was no barrier at all between us and the edge of the cliff. We descended slowly, in first gear, almost continuously using the rear brake. I was glad that we had our Indian Dunlops with their knobby tread pattern on the bikes today instead of the more street-oriented Michelin Gazelles. We eventually made it to the bottom with no incidents, and the GPS showed that we had dropped over 3000 feet of elevation in less than five miles. When we finally reached the highway, Re was giddy to have made it down safely, and we were both happy to rejoin good pavement.

The next 30 miles were a much easier and beautiful ride through the mountains. We made it to Chiang Rai around noon, only to find that our preferred guesthouse was full. Our second choice did have a room, unfortunately on the third floor. We unpacked the bikes and schlepped all our crap up to the room, changed into our sandals, and headed back out for lunch. Leaving the room, we met Julien and Annie, a Canadian couple who are also on a long trip. Like us, they figure that they will never be able to retire before they die, so why not go traveling now? After chatting with them for close to an hour, we excused ourselves, since the best restaurant in Chiang Rai would be closing soon. This restaurant does not have an English language sign, so I don't know what it's called, but they serve what may be the bestest pork in the world. Re and I discovered it the last time we were in Chiang Rai and ate lunch there every day since it was so good. They are only open until 2:00 pm and often run out of certain dishes before closing time.

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We hustled up there in time to get an amazing plate of roast pork, sausage, and rice. I'm not sure how to describe the roast pork here, it's a slab of pork that is roasted with the skin on until it's crispy and crunchy, but still tender and juicy inside. All I can say is that if you like bacon, bacon is for pussies. Get your ass to Chiang Rai, find Thanon Phahonyothin, and look for the restaurant on the west side of the road that has slabs of pork hanging up front, and all the waitresses wear red aprons. For 50 Baht (1.65 USD) you will get a huge plate of deliciousness.

Suitably stuffed with porky goodness, we decided to escape the heat by heading back to the guesthouse to work on some writing. I had also come up with a preliminary itinerary for Laos and wanted Re to review it and give her input. After the sun went down, we walked out to the night market for a lovely dinner of tempura chicken and vegetables and fruit shakes. After dinner we walked around the night market before heading back to the room for some more writing. On the way back to the room we stopped at the 7Eleven, where we eyed the Changs, but instead chose soda waters. Someday, just not today.

45 miles in about 2 hours. I think we used about a month's worth of brake lining in about ten miles.

2/13 Hanging Out in Chiang Rai
 

After hitting the snooze button a few times, we finally rolled out of bed, into the shower, and downstairs for breakfast. Our hotel includes a basic breakfast with the room, so we had coffee, toast, and a banana before unrolling our tarp in the parking lot to get to work on the bikes. We pulled the leg shields on our bikes and replaced the sparkplugs and fuel filters with our newly acquired parts from Chiang Mai. Our plugs were sooty and the plug gap had widened beyond spec, so it was definitely time to replace them. The fuel filters were a different story. Once I removed the fuel filters, I saw that the stock SYM filters are unlike any other motorcycle fuel filter I have ever seen. The first difference I noticed was that the fuel line running from the filter to the carburetor was larger in diameter by a millimeter or so than the line that runs from the fuel tank to the filter. The inlet and outlet on the replacement filter were both the size of the line from the fuel tank to the filter. Consequently, I had to use both sets of pliers to tighten the wire clamp on the outlet side of the fuel filter. The most interesting feature of the SYM filter is that it has a one-way valve in it. Once the carburetor stops drawing fuel from the tank, a one-way valve closes and prevents the fuel from flowing back to the fuel tank. I have never seen this before and since the replacement fuel filters don't have this valve, I hope it's not a problem. Once the new parts were installed, we reinstalled the leg shields, picked up the tools, and headed back to the room to clean up. I decided to save the old filters in case the valve is important, so I opened the window and set them outside to dry before packing them in a Ziploc bag.

With the maintenance done, we headed out on foot for Wat Phra Kaew. On the way, we stopped at a coffee shop for a cappuccino and to talk about our plans for after this trip. After this, we made our way to the wat, where we toured the grounds and the museum.

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Wat Phra Kaew is an old Buddhist temple in Chiang Rai that is famous for its Emerald Buddha. The story goes that in the mid-14th century, lightning struck a chedi at the wat and it broke open to reveal the Emerald Buddha, which now resides at Wat Phra Kaew in Bangkok.

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It is also a very beautiful teak Wat with peaceful grounds and a beautiful museum. We then sat on a bench in the shade and again tried to figure out what we're doing in the future. We have two basic plans, but neither of us is sure which way to go. Since it was now after 1:00, we hurried back for another round of pork, sausage, and rice (remember: red aprons).

Lamenting the fact that they aren't open for dinner, we once again headed back to the room to escape the afternoon heat. Re spent the rest of the afternoon catching up on the long-neglected blog, while I read some fiction and double checked the information for tomorrow's border crossing. Later in the evening, we walked back to the night market for dinner again. Tonight we had a noodle dish with chicken and cashews and more fruit shakes. While we were eating our dinner, we heard a woman scream and turned in time to see one of the food stalls explode in flames. There was a man and a woman working inside one of the stalls, and we saw them engulfed by fire. I believe it was a gas leak from one of the cooking cylinders, but the flames actually rushed out the front of the stand and into the night air. The two people were able to make it out the front of the stand, but not before the man who was cooking was burned fairly badly. The woman ran away screaming and we never saw her again, but the man ran back into the stall after the flames subsided and beat out the rest of the fire with a cloth before shutting off the gas cylinder. The fire drew a big crowd of surrounding workers, who finally pulled the guy away from his stand, at which time he noticed the large areas of burned skin that hung from his forearms. A couple of people apparently assured him they would look after his stand while others rushed him away (hopefully for medical treatment). About five minutes later, someone finally showed up with a fire extinguisher, but the remaining flames had already been put out with bowls of water. The other workers all pitched in to pick up the mess, remove the gas cylinders, and close up the stand. I hope the burned man got some medical attention, because his arms looked really scary. On the way back to the room we stopped at the 7Eleven for cookies, and still no beer.

Sorry I've been away for a while. The internet access in northern Laos isn't great! It might take a while but I'll get it all posted eventually. I'm glad everyone seems to be enjoying our trip!

your topic
 

Do you have a map of the route you took are taking.

Great read,thanks for sharing. I'm amazed how many miles your doing on those bikes,don't think I could do it. only on second page so plenty to catch up on yet. Hope all is well.

Sorry, we haven't been keeping a route map.

2/14 Ride to Laos
 

We got up early this morning and packed our gear before hiking it down the three flights of steps to the bikes. After we had everything strapped and locked to the bikes, we had breakfast at the hotel before tromping upstairs to get our Dariens and helmets. Having no idea how long it would take to cross the border, especially since this crossing included a boat ride, we wanted to be on the road by 8:00 am. So at 8:00 am we hopped on the bikes, only to be stopped by one group and then another of nice people who wanted to find out more about our journey. Consequently, we pulled out of the parking lot at 8:30 am for the 60 or so mile ride to Chiang Khong.

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It was an easy ride, and we covered the distance in about two hours. It wasn't particularly scenic though, mostly passing through farmland and small towns.

We arrived in Chiang Khong around 10:30 am and attempted to find the Immigration office in town. From my research, it appeared that we would need to pick up a couple of forms in town, get them stamped, and then carry them with us for when we return to Thailand. We did not see an Immigration office in town, so we followed the signs marked “Immigration Office” to the ferry dock. Just before we turned down the ramp towards the dock, we spied three large BMW GSs, loaded for travel. We soon spotted their riders, who insisted we stop so they could take our photo. We couldn't really compare too many notes, since they only spoke Chinese but indicated they were traveling back through Laos to China.

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This was a first for me – I have seen a lot of different plates on a lot of different bikes, but these were the first Chinese license plates I have ever seen on a BMW (let alone, three of them). We waved goodbye, and Re and I rode down toward Immigration and Customs. We got stamped out at Immigration easily enough, and at Customs, they simply took our TIP forms and stamped the piece of paper inside our passports. Since we still didn't have the TM-2 and TM-4 forms that my research said we should, we asked at Customs if we needed anything else, and they assured us we did not. Hmmm. Since it was now 10:50 am, and the ferry leaves every hour on the hour, I didn't feel like screwing around anymore, so instead we paid the extortionate price of 500 Baht (17 USD) per bike for the privilege of crossing the Mekong.

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While we waited in line to board the ferry (which only held three trucks and four motorcycles for our trip), we met Hubert, a German rider who has already done 18 months on his Tourateched 1100 GS, and Herbert, an Austrian tourist who was doing a couple of weeks of riding on a rented Honda AX-1. We chatted for a couple of minutes, and then it was time to board the ferry.

They loaded two of the trucks first, then Hubert, then the third truck, then Re and I followed Herbert down the wet, concrete ramp that turned to dirt before it reached the water's edge. The deck of the boat did not actually reach the shore and required us to ride through about a 3-foot stretch of water about 18-inches deep to the edge of the boat. A little unsure as to how riding off the mud, through the water, and onto the wet, steel deck was going to turn out, I did what all the best motorcycle riders do, and gassed it and hoped for the best. (When I was racing, we had a saying - When in doubt, gas it! You may not save it but it will end the suspense... ) I picked my feet up off the pegs as I hit the water and powered the mighty Symba onto the deck. I pulled in next to Herbert and turned in time to see Re do the same.

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We both made it without issue and were glad to be safely on board. The Mekong might be a half mile wide here, and it does have a substantial current, so once the ferry pulled free from the shore, we soon found ourselves heading downriver. Then the boat captain floored it, and we took about a four mile long, half mile journey. Maybe ten minutes later, we reached the other shore, and the crew held me, Re, and Herbert, while the trucks drove off the ferry and up the steep riverbank. When it was my turn to ride off the ferry, I was surprised to see that the ramp was not actually on land, but there was a several inch gap between the steel of the boat and the dirt. The captain was fighting the current, but the boat was slowly inching its way downstream. I heard the captain throttle up and decided to do the same. As the edge of the boat pushed into the shore, I scampered across to terra firma. Re followed quickly, and we rode up the bank to the top of the hill to Customs.

The nice lady from AGL Insurance explained which buildings we needed to go in and in what sequence. The funny thing about Laos is that it is not a Carnet country, and you're supposed to need to do a temporary import permit (TIP), but I had read reports that a couple of other travelers had used their Carnets in lieu of a TIP. I wanted to try this, since the TIP in Laos apparently only gives you 14 days, while your visa is good for 30 days and a Carnet admission is good for the duration of your visa. While we waited in line, I mentioned this to Hubert, who was also traveling with Carnet, and since he was ahead of us in line, he tried it first. The officer stamped his Carnet, tore out the souche, and told Hubert he didn't need to get a TIP. Oh, and it didn't cost a dime. Awesome! I handed our Carnets through and got the same results. We stopped at the final office, where we needed to be entered into the computer. Here, they asked for our TM-2 and our TM-4, which we did not have. The officer here did not speak enough English to explain the situation, so he flagged down some guy, who explained it to us. Since we didn't have our paperwork, we had to pay a mysterious 100 Baht (3.33 USD) fee per bike. Apparently, Re and I must have looked skeptical, because the guy assured us that it would, “go to the Lao Government.” Perhaps, it will, if the Laos Government owns the company that makes Beer Lao... Oh well. Having heard bad stories about riding in Laos without insurance, we did stop at the AGL office to become legal. While I dealt with the other paperwork, Re spoke with the insurance agent, and we were able to get 30 days of minimum coverage for 10 USD per bike.

Fifteen minutes later, we were back on the bikes and riding to passenger ferry dock to go through the Immigration formalities. Re and I rode with Hubert and Herbert, and we all worked on our visa on arrival applications together. No hanky panky at this office, since the fees are clearly posted on the wall- 35 USD got us a one month Laos visa. Unfortunately, here is where Herbert ran into problems. It seems he neglected to go through Immigration when he left Thailand. The Laos Immigration officer insisted that he return to Thailand to get his passport stamped before he could go through the process here. Since it was now only 1:30, Re and I decided to head for Muang Sing, about 100 miles northeast of the border crossing at Huay Xai. Hubert, Re, and I rode to the ATM we'd spotted on the way in, where Re and I became instant millionaires when we withdrew 1.7 million Laos Kip, which sounds good, but is really only about 210 USD. We waved goodbye to Hubert and hit the road.

One of my big worries about riding in Laos is the riding conditions. I haven't been able to find out much information about the quality of the roads and availability of fuel. As it turns out, today, we didn't need to worry about either. The road leaving Huay Xai was a silky ribbon of black, brand new asphalt. It turns out that the Chinese and Thai governments are in the process of building a bridge across the Mekong at Huay Xai in order to facilitate commerce between the countries. Consequently, the Chinese have built a beautiful road between Huay Xai and the border crossing with China at Bo Ten. The bridge was supposed to be completed in 2010 and is now slated for completion in 2014, but today we are the happy recipients of their largesse. And what a road it is! Brand new, with well cambered corners, and smooth as a baby's butt, excellent lane markings, guard rails, and it snakes through the mountains, hugging the hillsides and occasionally dipping into the valleys. It is truly a thing of beauty. Our one difficulty on the trip today was that my GPS did not have the cut off road to Muang Sing in its map, so instead, we watched for the signs, which we never saw. Our new destination for the night became Luang Nam Tha. We covered the hundred miles or so in about 3.5 hours and rolled into Luang Nam Tha at about 5:00 pm. We missed the driveway for our first choice in guesthouses, so we stopped at our second choice first and found a great place at a great price. Not seeing any reason to look any further, we checked in and unloaded our bikes.

After getting cleaned up, we walked out to the night market for dinner. There were many stands making papaya salad, while others were cooking all sorts of meats. The whole roast chickens and ducks initially caught our eyes, but then we saw the slabs of pork (remember: it's the meat of kings). We settled on enough pork for three people, sticky rice, a not spicy papaya salad, and one, ice cold, dripping with condensation, oh I have missed you baby, big Beer Lao. Beer Lao, in my opinion, is the best beer in southeast Asia, and we were about to remind ourselves why. We sat at one of the tables and enjoyed our feast. While we were walking around, Re had spied a woman making crepes with all sorts of things. While I used the last of the sticky rice to sop up the dressing from the papaya salad, Re went in search of a crepe. A few minutes later, she returned with a crepe and Julien and Annie, the Canadian couple we met in Chiang Rai. Not only were they in Luang Nam Tha, but as we talked, we realized we were all staying at the same guesthouse. Funny. We sat and chatted with them as they ate and were joined by four other people the Canadians had met along the way. At one point, Julien disappeared and returned with a single rose for Annie and wished her a happy Valentine's Day. Guess what I forgot? Re and I split another Beer Lao and had a good time listening to other people talk about their travels. We had to excuse ourselves to return to the room and figure out where we were going tomorrow before calling it a night.


195 miles in about 6 hours of riding. Border costs: 33 USD for the ferry, 6.50 USD for “government fee,” 20 USD for insurance, and 70 USD for visas. The border crossing was easy and relatively quick. I hope not having the TM-2 and TM-4 won't bite us in the ass when we return to Thailand.

2/15 Ride to Nong Kiaew
 

Last night, we decided that our next stop would be Nong Kiaew, a town east of Luang Nam Tha. The ride wasn't particularly far, so we took our time getting going this morning. Julien and Annie were heading out for a three day jungle trek, so we had some coffee with them and said goodbye for now. While I was loading up the bikes, I ended up telling Frederick, a French photographer, about our trip. He was actually most interested, not in the travel, but in the logistics of fitting everything on a small vehicle. An homme after my own coeur.

We finally rolled through the front gate at about 9:00 am, and dutifully followed the GPS directions, not back the road we came in, but down a dirt road instead. The dirt road, apparently, would take us back to the highway in one less mile than the paved road. This would have been fine if the dirt road hadn't led us to a river. Oh, there was a bridge across the river, but not a bridge I was going to ride across.

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Imagine, if you will, a bridge, approximately 3 feet wide, whose surface was made of lengths of bamboo, with no guardrails, and the bridge supports appeared to be large, woven, bamboo baskets. While we stopped to ponder the wisdom of this bridge, another underbone rider came whizzing past, and we watched, a little nervously, as he zipped the 150 yards or so to the other side. Maybe it was because I skipped my bowl of Wheaties this morning, but I tucked my tail firmly between my legs, turned the bike around, and slunk back into town. Of course, the real reason we turned around had nothing to do with the color yellow, but really, we had to go back into town to hit the ATM and get some more fuel. Yeah, that's the ticket! Back in town, we did indeed hit the ATM and pick up seven liters of the cherry chough syrup red liquid that passes for gasoline in these parts.

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From here, we took a paved road to the highway, and once again, found ourselves on the same, beautiful, new pavement as yesterday. We were enjoying the lovely, twisty road, but in fact, the road was so twisty that it was cutting into our average speed. Many of the corners were tight enough that we had to slow to 20 mph before rolling through them. But honestly, we didn't care, because the ride was so beautiful. The mountains in Laos are steeper and craggier than those in Thailand, and there were many flowering trees along the way. The other beautiful part of the ride was all the very small towns that we rode through. Though they do not seem to have much, the people here all seem happy, and the children in particular, smile a lot, and many of them waved when they saw us pass. In many ways the people here remind us of the very happy people we saw in Malawi. Also during the morning, we rode past the Chinese-plated BMWs and their riders, who were stopped for a photo op.

Sometime after noon, we rode through the town of Udomxai and became very sad. Udomxai is where the Chinese pavement stopped, and the road condition became terrible. The next fifty or so miles did not contain a single mile of good road.

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I'm not sure what happened to this section of road, but for some reason, random sections of road have had the asphalt removed, revealing the dirt and rock below. It appears to be intentional, since where the road transitions between pavement and dirt, the breaks are straight lines. The dirt sections forced us to slow to between 10 and 20 mph, and these sections varied in length between about 50 feet and over 300 feet. Sometimes there would be one in a mile, and sometimes as many as six dirt sections in a mile. Between 1:30 and 2:30 pm, we were only able to cover 15 miles. When we could look around, it was still a beautiful ride, and elevations rose to over 4,000 feet at times.

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During the afternoon, we stopped for a pee break at what appeared to be an unofficial dump for unwanted building materials and scenic overlook. While walking around, I spied several discarded Elephant Brand cement bags. Knowing Re's love of elephants, I grabbed my Swiss Army knife and cut one of the logos out for her. Happy belated Valentine's Day! Thankfully, the last ten miles into Nong Kiaew contained none of the dirt sections, but it was still a bouncy ride due to the rippled pavement. We finally made it to Nong Kiaew by 4:30 pm, and liked the first guesthouse we stopped at so much, we chose it for the night.

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The town of Nong Kiaew is located along the banks of the Nam Ou and is surrounded by beautiful, blue-green limestone karsts. The two halves of the town are connected by a modern bridge over the river. There's not a lot to do here, other than walk to see some caves and enjoy the peace, quiet, and natural beauty of the place.

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Our bungalow had a beautiful little balcony that looked over the river through the well landscaped lawns. Feeling a little hungry, we walked out to find a fruit stand, and Re negotiated for a pineapple, which we took back to the room and cut up for a snack. Later that evening, we walked across the bridge and perused the menus at several restaurants before settling on the local Indian place. After dinner, Re and I again tried to talk about what the future held over beer and cookies, but we still didn't seem to get anywhere. Oh well. We spent the rest of the evening taking it easy.

160 miles in 7.5 hours. Bikes are running well, but the rough pavement makes me nervous for the bikes.

2/16 A Bad, Bad Day
 

How can a day that started this idyllically (link may be NSFW) turn so bad, that this ride report almost needed to be renamed, “One Dumbass, One Symba, and No ****in' Sense?” Re and I had a blowout of an argument today and it was nearly the end of our trip, as we know it. What could be the cause of this potentially trip ending fight? Why, the water pressure in the shower... Of course, what this kind of fight starts over usually has nothing to do with the actual cause. For the past several days, I have had a short fuse, and Re has been increasingly sullen, and this has led to some friction between us.

The morning started off pleasantly enough. Re and I woke up to another beautiful morning. The view from our porch was of misty mountains and fog on the river. After being up for a while, our thoughts turned to breakfast, but as usual, we were new in town and didn't know what to have. Our guesthouse had a restaurant, but when Re checked the menu the previous day, it seemed a little bit pricey. She had also seen yogurt at a local store, and we considered the alternative of yogurt and maybe some cereal if they had it. If the yogurt and cereal option worked out, Re would pick up coffee at the guesthouse, and we'd have breakfast in the room. If not, we'd walk out in search of another option. While I sat and finished reading the last few pages of my latest book, Re went out to see what she could see. She returned with coffee and nothing else. Apparently, the yogurt was expensive and they had no cereal. Just getting coffee was not one of the options we discussed, and Re couldn't really explain what she thought we were going to do instead. But, no matter, we'll figure something out. We decided we should get cleaned up and head out. We each have our responsibilities on this trip, and one that Re chose is finding accommodation. Over years of travel, we have developed a list of our basic room requirements. One of them is adequate water pressure and temperature. If we're paying extra for a hot shower, we like to have a hot shower. Our bungalow did come equipped with an on-demand water heater for the shower, so I expected a nice, hot shower this morning. But when I turned on the shower this morning, there was a problem. While the water was plenty hot, it only came out in a trickle. The water pressure was nonexistent, and since it was so low, the on-demand heater cycled between off and scalding. While I tried to rinse the soap out of my eyes, Re went under the bungalow to make sure the water was turned on fully and found that it unfortunately was. But no problem, we can always change guesthouses. Except that Re now told me that she had already paid for another night.

This started an argument that went on for a while. But we tried to recover and spent the rest of the morning reading on our lovely porch. Since we didn't end up having any breakfast, we headed out for lunch at noon. Neither of us could leave well enough alone, so for dessert, we continued our fight. We both decided that now would be the time to bring up all of our perceived slights and shortcomings from the last several months. It seemed like every time one of us would try to defuse the situation, the other would escalate it. Eventually, I left Re standing on the bridge and walked back to the bungalow. While I walked, I mentally divided up all our gear so Re could head back to Bangkok and fly her ass home. A while later, Re returned to the bungalow, and I now understand in retrospect, she tried to de-escalate the situation. I took it the very wrong way and told her she should go home. Over the next couple of hours, Re repacked everything so that I would have the gear I needed to continue the trip, and she would take the rest of it back to Bangkok with her.

After everything was repacked, the reality of what we were planning seemed to set in for both of us. I told Re that I didn't want the trip to end like this, and I didn't want her to go. She was still pretty angry, but I told her it was up to her whether she left or not. I said we should ride as far as Vientiane together, since that's where our paths would split, and she agreed that was a good idea. Re said she would think about continuing the trip, but she wasn't sure. Since we didn't know what else to do, we headed out together for dinner. We had a nice dinner and talked some more about our feelings and why we thought today turned out as it did. We spent the rest of the evening talking, but by bedtime, Re still hadn't decided whether she was staying.

One of the reasons we think everything boiled over today was that we finally had the luxury of time to think about how we piss each other off. During our last month in India, and really through Nepal, we were both just trying to either survive another day or get over our sickness and injuries, so we didn't have the time or energy to do anything else. Thailand and Laos have been so nice and easy, that we do have time to notice each other's failings. But they've always been there, so there must be something else going on, too. The other reason we identified was our anxiety over not knowing what we are doing when this trip is over, or even how the trip is going to end. We have been talking about a couple of different post-trip options since before it began, but we lost sight of them in India and Nepal. Since we arrived in southeast Asia, these plans have again become a topic of conversation, but neither of us can commit to one of them. For me, arriving in southeast Asia is also a bit of a letdown. It is wonderful, and I am happy to be here, but it is, sort of, our last destination before we head back to the US. We have plenty of traveling left to do here, but it's the final geographic region we visit before going home. Time and mileage-wise, we're through less than 60 percent of our trip, but in some ways for me, it's starting to feel like the end, and I don't like it.

None of that really matters right now, since I am going to bed not knowing whether this trip will exist tomorrow. But I hope it will.

2/17 Ride to Luang Prabang
 

When the alarm went off this morning, I hit the snooze button as usual, but in doing so, I looked at all our luggage on the floor, and the bad events of yesterday came flooding back. Crap. But then Re curled up behind me and put her arm around me, so maybe things won't be so bad. I hit the snooze a couple more times before we got up. We both looked a little sheepish and tentative this morning. After some apologizing and some hugging and some tears, Re said she did not want to go back home, but instead wanted to continue the ride. We both agreed to talk about things more when they bother us and to give each other the benefit of the doubt when things go wrong. This, however, meant that we had to repack everything again. But this was easier since we didn't have to figure anything out, we just had to put it back where it's been for the last seven months. We drank our coffee on the porch and again enjoyed the misty view and cool, 63 degree morning.

We hit the road by 9:30 am for the relatively short ride to Luang Prabang. The first section of road was bouncy due to the slumped pavement, but then it got better when we reached the main highway.

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Today's ride took us in and out of the river's edge as we paralleled the Nam Ou all the way to Luang Prabang. The day slowly warmed up and we unzipped our vents in stages. Highway 13 here is generally in good shape, but it has some weird repaired patches. We also passed through one massive area of landslide, where excavators were working on reopening the road. There was only one lane open, and we had to wait for a few minutes until the earth moving equipment moved to let us pass. Finally, we joined the cars and bicycles and slowly squeezed between the eight ft high walls of dirt on either side of the lane.

Around 1:00 pm, we pulled into Luang Prabang and my GPS led us right to our preferred guesthouse. We stayed at the Somkhounmeoung the last time we were in the city and liked it very much. It's still very nice and has added wifi in the room, but the rate had gone up significantly. Re negotiated about a 20 percent discount, so we stayed. We quickly unloaded the bikes and headed out for lunch. Even though public displays of affection are frowned upon in Laos, we walked hand in hand to our favorite sandwich stand. A popular breakfast and lunch item in Laos is a baguette sandwich with a variety of fillings. There are many stands which sell them near the night market area, and we had a favorite the last time we were here.

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Sure enough, two and a half years later, our funny sandwich lady was still in the same spot, still making delicious sandwiches. We opted for the chicken, bacon, and cheese with fruit shakes to wash them down. After walking around a bit, we went back to the room to work on some writing.

Later that evening, we walked about two-thirds of a mile to our favorite dinner place, an Indian restaurant called, Nisha. Unfortunately, when we arrived, the building was partially demolished. Huh? Serendipitously, Re overheard a passing man mention that this is where the Indian restaurant used to be. Re asked him if it had closed, and he told her that it had just moved. He gave us directions to the new location, which basically involved walking back to our guesthouse and another two blocks the other way. When we finally arrived, we were overjoyed to see the familiar sign and, needless to say, had worked up an appetite on our walk. While the new location is not as picturesque, the food is every bit as good as we remembered. The food here was excellent, and in my opinion, better than any of the food we had in India. It doesn't hurt that our accompanying beverage was Beer Lao instead of Kingfisher. I'm happy to report that over dinner, Re and I were laughing and talking like yesterday never happened. But we both know that it did.

95 miles in 3.5 hours. It looks like we'll continue underboning the world.

2/18 Tat Kuang Si Waterfall
 

On our last visit to Luang Prabang two years ago, one of the highlights was our visit to Tat Kuang Si waterfall, located about 20 miles outside of town. Our plan for today was to ride to the waterfall and enjoy some time together off the bikes. But before we headed for the waterfall, we decided to enjoy some time together, off the bikes.

After finally getting out of bed and getting a shower, we headed out for breakfast from our funny sandwich lady. As we walked out the front gate of our guesthouse, I saw and heard a big motorbike go by, but realized too late, that it was Hubert and his 1100GS. I ran out into the street, yelled his name and waved my arms, but he did not see us. Judging from where the sound of his bike started, he must have been staying at the guesthouse across the street and about 100 yards up. Bummer. We continued to our sandwich lady and got two more of her delicious sandwiches. Since coffee at the guesthouse is free, and we have to pay for it at the market, we took our sandwiches back to the guesthouse and ate them on the patio.

We then put on our Dariens over our bathing suits, punched our destination into the GPS, and hopped on our bikes. As I hopped on my bike, I noticed that the Buddhist prayer cloths that I have been riding with since India and Nepal seemed to be disarranged, but I didn't think much about it. We pulled out from the guesthouse and made our way onto the road to the waterfall. Almost immediately, I noticed that one of the bungee cords that holds my jerrycan on the front rack was not in its customary position. Hmmm. I am intimately familiar with the way this can is strapped to my bike since we have been strapping and unstrapping it one to two times per day for the last 150 days or so. The position of the bungees matters, since if they're not on correctly, the fuel can tends to shift around and can cause a slight headshake. We continued our ride to the waterfall, down a pretty, twisty, country road. Along the way, we passed several groups of serious bicyclists on fancy, imported bicycles, wearing their stretchy, colorful pants and matching tops. Have you ever noticed that you never see anyone over the age of 12 smile when they ride a bicycle? Re and I have seen touring bicyclists in almost every country we've visited, and we have yet to see one of them smiling. It's kind of a running joke between us, and sure enough, not a one of these cyclists was smiling either. But we were smiling as we made our way up and down the hills and around the corners.

We pulled into the parking area at the waterfalls, paid the parking attendant, and stripped off our Dariens. We cable-locked our gear to the bikes, and then I investigated the fuel can mystery. When we arrived in Luang Prabang, my ten liter fuel jug only had about two liters remaining in it, but now, there was less than half an inch covering the bottom of the can. The five liter can on Re's bike is our ICE supply (In Case of Emergency) and usually has about four liters in it. A quick look at Re's can (hehehe), I mean, uh, fuel can, revealed that it was missing about three liters, and indeed, the bungee cord was also not attached the way we attach it. Grrr. The good news is, this is only the second time that anything has been taken from our bikes in nearly seven months on the road (the other being the carabiner clips that disappeared in Mumbai). We do remove the fuel cans if we feel that the area warrants it, but we felt safe with the bikes behind the locked gate at our guesthouse last night. The thing that struck me most odd was that the thief did not take all the fuel out of the can, or take the cans themselves. My prime suspect was the young man who took over at the front desk late last night and seemed very interested in our motorbikes. But the world may never know... Also, while we were in the parking lot, one of the groups of bicyclists that we passed appeared. They were a nice bunch of older, German riders who were interested in our trip, and we had a nice chat with them.

Re and I paid our admission fee and made our way past the rescued bears and to the waterfalls.

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The water here is, again, a beautiful limestone green and while there are several layers to these falls, it is an easier walk between the layers than at Erawan Falls. Re and I found a seat on one of the raised platforms overlooking a particularly scenic level, bought some fruit shakes, and spent quite a bit of time talking about our post-ride plans. We didn't come to any conclusions, but did discard one of the two plans. Unfortunately, we added a third (the two remaining plans somehow became “Plan 1” and “Plan C”).

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We continued our journey up the falls to the top and then made our way back down to the most likely looking pool. We hopped into the water, made it up to our waists, then quickly hopped back out, since the water was very cold. We decided the only way to get in was to jump off the approximately 12 ft high waterfall at the edge of the pool. Did I mention I am afraid of heights? Re and I walked out onto the rather slippery limestone edge, and after just a few seconds, Re leapt in, which left me, standing on the edge, looking down. There were between 30 and 40 people at the pool, and even though I didn't have my glasses on, I knew they were all looking at me. I thought seriously about punking out, but you know how it is - if a girl can do it, then I can do it. So with the logic of a 12-year old making the decision for me, I stepped to the edge and jumped. Once my feet actually left the rock, it was a blast, until I hit the cold, cold water. As I surfaced, the combination of exhilaration and cold water led to me taking a sharp breath and the sudden rediscovery of my broken ribs. My ribs have gotten better, but sneezing is still very painful. Now I can add jumping off a waterfall to the list of this that make my ribs hurt. We swam over to shallower water and sat on the rocks and watched the other visitors swing off a rope in the trees, while others relaxed with their families and friends.

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Before we left, Re made one more leap off the waterfall, which I videotaped (but later discovered that since I held the camera at a 90 degree angle, the video also plays at a 90 degree angle. Doh. To watch the video, we had to turn the laptop on its side).

Since it was now the middle of the afternoon, we rode back to the guesthouse and got cleaned up. While Re worked on some blogposts, I took it easy until dinnertime. On our way out to dinner, we took the time to empty our fuel jugs into our tanks and lock the jugs to the bikes with our Kryptocables. I also removed my prayer cloths. Hopefully there will be no more larceny tonight. Around 7:00 pm, we walked out to the market, where we put together a bitsa meal consisting of half a grilled duck, a plate from the vegetarian buffet, some spring rolls, and a lovely Beer Lao. The duck was a little disappointing, but everything else was delicious.

Later, we returned to the guesthouse and as we approached the front gate, I could see a large bike with a European plate on it in the gloom. “Hey,” I said to Re, “that looks like...” and sure enough, Stefano came around the corner and gave us a big hug. Stefano and Annamaria on their KLE500s had finally caught up with us! They had just arrived in town after a long day of riding (that included a failed attempt at crossing the Chinese border) and were looking for a guesthouse. Annamaria showed up shortly with a place for them to stay for the night. They decided on the same place Hubert had stayed last night, right across the way. While they went off to check in, Re and I sat on the patio to enjoy some freshly fried river weed that the ladies at the guesthouse had cooked up for us. When the Mekong River water level is low, people collect a particular river weed, form it into sheets, season it, cover it with thinly sliced garlic and tomatoes, and finally, coat it with sesame seeds, before drying it in the sun. After it's dried, it's cut up into sheets and then deep-fried before eating. It reminded us vaguely of nori, only not as fishy tasting. And of course, it goes well with a nice, cold Beer Lao. Stefano and Annamaria returned and since they were starving, we pointed them in the direction of the night market and recommended the Laos baguette sandwiches. Re and I sat on the patio and talked with the proprietress of our guesthouse about life in Laos and the way it is changing. Stefano and Annamaria returned after they'd finished their dinner, and we sat and chatted with them the rest of the night. Their trip is very different from ours (for instance, they just got married in Kathmandu) and it's fun to see how other people travel. They are keeping a blog of their travels at www.percorrendoindue.com. Unfortunately, it is in Italian, but if you scroll down on the right hand side, there is a translation button. Sometime after 11:00 pm, we said our goodnights and goodbyes, but since we are heading in the same general direction, hopefully we will see them again soon.

40 miles in about 2 hours.

2/19 Ride to Vientiane...er, Vang Vieng
 

Our goal for today was to make it to Vientiane, about 250 miles south of here, but we didn't make it. Since that was a lot of miles to cover, we were on the road by 8:30 am. For breakfast, we had a rather large watermelon and two cups of coffee on the patio before pulling out into a chilly and overcast morning.

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The first part of the ride was very pretty, but very twisty. We were not making particularly good time due to the twistiness of the road and the elevation changes.

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The ride today varied between 1100 and 4600 feet, and some of the climbs found us in second, and occasionally first gear.

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Around noon, we stopped at a scenic overlook for a lunch of leftover river weed and some dates Re found in the bottom of her daypack. By around 1:00 pm, we had covered approximately 130 miles, which put us about halfway to Vientiane. Our butts were starting to hurt a little bit, but at the pace we were going, we were still on schedule to make it to Vientiane by about 5:00 pm.

Then the road turned to shit. The large patches of missing road surface that we experienced in the north reappeared with a vengeance. Once again, we found ourselves slowing to a crawl, several times each mile, and slowly bouncing through the dust and rocks. Just for shits and giggles, I timed one section and we only covered about 13 miles in one hour. So our new goal for the night became legendary party town, home of frat boys and woo hoo girls, Vang Vieng, Laos. We have not visited Vang Vieng before, and due to its reputation, didn't really want to this time either, but since it's the only town of any size in this stretch, it was our option for the night. Vang Vieng's claim to fame is its location on the Nam Ou river and the number of bars from which you can buy alcohol as you float down the river in an innertube. It is also, apparently, famous for the plentiful supply of marijuana and opium. Definitely not our scene.

We pulled into Vang Vieng around 3:00 pm and pulled out the Lonely Planet for a recommendation. The LP identified one guesthouse on the far side of the river that was supposed to be nice and quiet. Luckily, the location was also in my GPS, so we made for the bridge to the other side of the river. Unfortunately, it was a toll bridge, and the fine people manning the gate wanted 10,000 kip each (1.25 USD) for us to be able to cross. Not knowing if the Maylyn GH had any rooms or was even a place we'd want to stay, Re set off on foot and walked the half mile to the guesthouse while I waited with the bikes. She returned with the good news that they did have rooms and it was a nice, quiet place. We paid the troll and rode across their rickety, wooden bridge to a lovely place for the night. The folks who run the Maylyn are extremely nice and friendly and quickly found a good place for us to park the bikes. We unloaded our gear into our very nice clean room and soon met one of our neighbors.

As we entered the room, we startled two very young cats who had apparently taken the open door as an invitation to visit. As we walked in, they shot out, knocking over a basket in the process. One disappeared into the garden, but the second one stopped at the edge of the porch and waited for us to come and meet him. He was a grubby, little, orange and white cat, maybe three to four months old. He seemed a little wary of us but enjoyed a good scratch. Since we had some time before dinner, we took the opportunity to “reaffirm the strength of our relationship.”

Later that evening, we had an excellent dinner from Maylyn's kitchen. We each had the larp, which is a Laos salad made with minced meat, fish sauce, shallots, mint leaves, lime juice, lemongrass, roasted ground rice, and chillies. Re had the chicken version, and I had the pork, and both came with sticky rice. This was accompanied by tam maak hun, or green papaya salad, and a couple of fruit shakes. Yum! Stuffed with goodness, we took some of the meat from our dinner back to the grubby cat we met earlier today. We also fed what must have been his brother and an older cousin (?). It was a really nice evening.

160 miles in 6.5 hours. If the roads tomorrow are as bad as the last 20 miles today, it's gonna be a looong day.

2/20 Ride to Vientiane
 

Nervous that the road would be as bad today as it was yesterday, we tried to get an early start. Unfortunately, like every other early start we try to get, it never seems to work out for us. We were up early enough at 6:00 am, but then we decided to have breakfast at the guesthouse. The real reason why we had breakfast, was that as we walked out of our room, the two little kittens from last night were curled up asleep on a chair on our patio.

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And they looked kinda hungry. So after breakfast, we brought them back some of the eggs that we had enjoyed. We spent a few minutes feeding and petting these hungry little guys before wishing them a happy life and loading up the bikes.

We rolled out of the front gate at 8:30 am, and followed the GPS directions back to Highway 13. The directions to the highway were interesting this morning, because they took us across what I believe was the old CIA landing strip here. Soon enough, we were back on Highway 13, and we were sad to see that the road conditions were as bad as they were yesterday. We are also out of the mountains now, so the air temperature has gone up. Between the heat, the long stretches of dirt and rocks, and boring landscape, neither of us really enjoyed today's ride. Both of our butts also hurt from the constant pounding, and I am beginning to think that our Christmas re-upholstery job isn't lasting very long.

We eventually made it to Vientiane by 2:30 pm and found a room at the well-recommended Mixay Guesthouse. I'm a little puzzled as to why it is so highly recommended as it seems a bit impersonal and not a great value. But it's only for one night, it's clean, and they have bike parking. Vientiane itself seems like a rather unlovely town. It does border the Mekong, but other than that, there wasn't much else attractive about it.

The one tourist site we did want to see while we were here was Wat Si Saket, which is one of the few Lao Wats not destroyed by the Communist Government.

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The other feature the Wat is known for is its thousands of Buddhas big and small, made of a variety of materials, that line the interior walls of the enclosure. After getting situated at the Mixay, we made the short walk to the Wat to see what we could see. After wandering around the atmospheric grounds for an hour or so, we walked back to the guesthouse along the newly constructed promenade along the Mekong. While it was scenic, it was also hot as hell.

We returned to the room to cool off and work on some writing before dinner. Later that evening, we wandered out in search of food, batteries for the GPS, and shaving cream. We found a small outdoor restaurant near the riverfront, where we had another good dinner under the stars. On the way back to the room, we stopped in a couple of small stores, but came up empty in regards to the batteries and shaving cream. We've been looking for these things for the past couple of days, but seem to only be finding non-alkaline batteries and no shaving cream. I recall from our last trip to southeast Asia that shaving cream could be hard to find (few people here seem to have much in the way of facial hair), but if we were in Thailand, we could just walk into the 7Eleven and get both things we need. Instead, we picked up some beers and headed back to the room to do some more writing and research our trip south through Laos. I finally tried the dark Beer Lao, and it is pretty damned good, if a little sweet.


105 miles in 6 hours for and average of 17.5 mph. I thought we were finished with this kind of average speed after India.

2/21 Ride to Ban Na Hin
 

After a cheap but kind of odd breakfast at the Mixay's sister hotel, we hit the road by 9:15 am. The traffic leaving Vientiane was fairly heavy, by Laos standards, but we soon rejoined the 13 and headed east and south. We were overjoyed to see that the road surface here appeared to be relatively new and was in very good condition. The morning was already warm, but with very little humidity, so it didn't seem as oppressive as yesterday.

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After being in the beautiful mountains of Thailand and Laos for so long, maybe I am being a bit unfair to flatland Laos, but it's ugly. The road today was basically straight and flat through scrubby, low vegetation and small towns. And the dust, there is dust everywhere, blowing constantly, coating the bikes and our visors and glasses.

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The only break in the tedium was when the road occasionally followed the Mekong for a few short stretches. At least the ride today was fast, the good road conditions allowed us to cruise at 40 mph all the way to the turnoff for Highway 8. Highway 8 was a beautiful ride.

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Almost as soon as we turned onto the 8, the twists began and everything turned green.

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We made our way up one side and down the other of a ridge of mountains, whose beauty belied their relatively low elevation of 1600 feet.

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At the highest point, we stopped at the scenic overlook to admire the view and grab a couple of photos.

We made it into Ban Na Hin at around 2:30 pm, and my GPS guided us to the front gate of the Inthapanya Guesthouse, our home for the next two nights. We unloaded our gear into another very nice room and then enjoyed an iced Lao coffee while chatting with Jimmy, our host. Riding into Ban Na Hin, we were surprised to see how relatively prosperous it looked, since it is just a small town between the Mekong and the Vietnam border. But there are plenty of new pickup trucks and what looked like company housing around the town. Jimmy explained that a new hydroelectric dam and power generation station had recently been built here. Not only do they generate power for this part of Laos, they also sell the surplus to Vietnam, Cambodia, and Thailand. We then walked out through town in our continuing search for batteries and shaving cream. No shaving cream, only ridiculously expensive batteries, but at least we found a watermelon. Oh well, we took our watermelon back to the room, where we ate it and hid out in the A/C until dinner. After the sun went down, the temperature also dropped quickly, so we enjoyed another outdoor dinner at the Inthapanya restaurant. After dinner, we picked up some cookies and beer and hit the bed early.


190 miles in 6 hours. Quite a difference from yesterday.

2/22 Kong Lo Cave Trip
 

Our reason for coming to Ban Na Hin was to visit Tham Kong Lo. Kong Lo Cave is a 4.5 mile long tunnel that runs beneath a limestone mountain. There is a river that runs through the cave and boat rides are offered starting from the Phu Hin Bun National Park Area, which is located about 30 miles south of Ban Na Hin. So our plan for the day was to ride down to the cave in the morning, take a boat ride during the hottest part of the day, then ride back to the guesthouse in the afternoon. With this in mind, we woke up and had a breakfast of fried noodles with egg, and the put on our gear and headed south. The first five or six miles consisted of gravel roads with some washboarding and one very rocky river crossing. We then joined the paved road for the remaining 25 miles to the cave. This ride passed mostly through farmland and some very small villages. But further south, we started riding through some interesting vertical rock bluffs, and soon we were at the park, where we paid our 5,000 kip each to park, then rode to the departure point.

We parked the bikes, took off our gear, swapped our boots for our sandals, and then a man motioned us to the “reservation desk.”

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We paid our 110,000 kip (14 USD) for the ride, grabbed the required life jackets, and followed our captain up the path and into the mouth of the cave, where our boat was docked. We had been forewarned that this trip would involve getting wet, and the first thing we did was wade through knee-high water to get into the boat.

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Our ride for today was an approximately 20 ft long, wooden canoe, with a Honda GX270 industrial engine which had a straight shaft leading to a two blade prop. Re and I each brought our own flashlight, and our captain had a headlamp powered by a belt-mounted battery pack. He fired up the engine, and we were soon streaking into the darkness. The light from the mouth of the cave quickly receded, and we were soon cruising in total darkness, except for the light from the captain's headlamp. A short way inside the cave, our boat pulled up to the shore and we were motioned to hop out. Another boat also pulled up and its passengers followed us. Their captain ran ahead and switched on the lights, revealing a huge garden of stalactites and stalagmites that were “artfully” illuminated.

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We walked through the garden, stopping to take a few pictures and then made our way back down a set of steps that must have been designed by MC Escher. At the bottom of the steps was our boat, which we reboarded. The ride continued through the cave, and what a ride it was. By now, our eyes were adjusting to the dark, and it was easier to make out the inside of the cave. I would estimate that the cave varied in width from 150 to 400 ft, and the roof height was between 25 and 150 ft. Since this is the dry season, we had to stop a few times, hop out of the boat, and drag it through the shallows to deeper water. Our captain seemed to know his way very well and opened the throttle a couple of times, so we were flying through the dark.

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After about 45 minutes in the cave, we could see light in the distance. We had to stop and get out for one more shallow section, and then we rode out of the cave and back into the sun.

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Here, the river was surrounded by dense greenery, and we traveled about another mile upriver to a small landing and “shopping opportunity.” Our captain said it would be about 30 minutes before we headed back, so we had plenty of time to enjoy the refreshments the vendors were selling. Instead, we chatted with a young, American man who is also traveling through southeast Asia.

After a nice chat, we hopped back in the boat and headed back toward the cave. It was interesting to see that there are other boats besides tourist boats plying these waters. There are no roads that service the villages in this area, so the villagers who live here have to ride boats through the cave to get virtually anywhere. The ride back was as enjoyable as the ride in, and 45 minutes or so later, we were back at the boat dock. From here, we walked back to the parking area and put on all our gear for the ride to Ban Na Hin.

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The return ride was uneventful, and it turns out, we could have taken paved roads all the way back into town, but Re wanted to ride the gravel section again so she could get her picture taken. We got to our guesthouse sometime after 3:00 pm, and spent another lazy afternoon hiding from the heat. Re did walk into the market to get another delicious watermelon and to scout out some possible dinner options. Later in the evening, we walked back to the market area for dinner at a Thai restaurant that Re spied. I had some yummy pork with ginger and sticky rice, while Re opted for the Panang curry chicken and steamed rice. Yum! We also took the opportunity to try a Namkhong beer, which is heavily advertised everywhere in Laos, and it was okay. But it was no Beer Lao.


55 miles in about 2 hours.

2/23 Ride to Savannakhet
 

Woke this morning to no cool air blowing from the A/C. Uh oh. A try of the light switch confirmed the bad news- there was no electricity. How can a town that is situated next to a giant hydroelectric station not have power? But, no problem, it's warm enough this morning that we don't need a hot shower. Problem- apparently, the water supply here is not gravity-fed, it's pump-fed, so we had no water at all. We decided to wait until 8:30 am before giving up on a shower, in hopes that the power would come back on. In the meantime, we repacked everything we could and loaded the bikes. Shortly before 8:30, Re went out in search of coffee and didn't come back for half an hour. Apparently, coffee is hard to find in Ban Na Hin. But she did return with coffee and we enjoyed it with our watermelon.

We finally hit the road about 9:30 am, and it was already hot. The ride back down Highway 8 to Highway 13 was again, pretty, twisty, and green, but that all ended when we turned south. We rode the short stretch of Highway 13 between Highway 8 and Tha Khaek in an hour or so, and decided to actually stop for lunch today. Our book said that street vendors sell food down at the waterfront, so there we rode. Once we arrived, we found half a dozen stalls selling skewers of all sorts of meat, sticky rice, and green papaya salad. The nice thing about most of these vendors is that their businesses are set up so you don't even have to leave the comfort of your motorbike seat to order and pay for your food. Drive through, southeast Asia style! We did get off our bikes, ordered some skewers of delicious pork and some sticky rice, which we ate at a table overlooking the Mekong. In addition to the grilled pork, we also had our choice of skewers of frogs, tiny whole fish, chicken feet, and chicken heads. We briefly considered the chicken heads but NO. after finishing our lunch, we paid the lady 16,000 kip (2 USD) and continued our journey south.

This section of the 13 is a boring ride, mostly straight, flat road, scrubby trees, and red dust everywhere. Even crossing over the occasional river provided no relief from the boredom, as the rivers here are muddy and dark. The afternoon got even hotter- we haven't experienced this kind of heat since we left Africa. Between the dust and the heat, it really reminded us of the Caprivi Strip in Namibia. We stopped for a drink of water in the afternoon, and Re pulled her thermometer out of her bag, and in the shade it read 98 degrees. We rolled into Savannakhet around 3:30 pm and found a guesthouse, where they directed us to pull our bikes inside the building. We unloaded our gear into the room, cranked up the A/C, and finally took the shower we missed this morning. Since we were clean...

Later, we strolled down to the Mekong and around the old part of town. Along the way, we stopped into a few stores, where we found some batteries but no shaving cream. I have not shaved for six days now, and my beard is getting itchy. If I can't find some shaving cream soon, I will need to come up with another plan. After the sun went down, we found a likely looking outdoor restaurant and had ourselves a delicious and cheap dinner and some cool fruit shakes. After dinner, we grabbed the laptop and walked around the corner to an internet cafe, where I posted some ride reports and we both caught up on our email. Back to the room for a good night's sleep.


185 miles in 6 hours. Man, it's hot.

2/24 Day Off in Savannakhet
 

Initially, we did not plan to spend another day in Savannakhet, but over the past couple of days, we've started honing in on some possible future plans. We decided to take today off and work on further researching our options. After a lazy morning in bed, Re walked out to pick up some baguette sandwiches and coffee for breakfast. We decided to see what little there is to see in Savannakhet this morning, so after breakfast we strolled down to Wat Sainyaphum, which is the oldest and largest Wat in southern Laos. It, like much of Savannakhet, is in various stages of decay. The exterior walls are charmingly crumbling, and many areas of the Wat were undergoing restoration when we were there.

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Compared to the extravagance of Thai Wats, Lao Wats are simpler and in many ways, much more charming.

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We toured the grounds and stopped to watch their golden Buddha workshop. Here, there were cast concrete Buddhas in many stages of finish, from bare and hairless, to perfectly coiffed and shiny gold. After the Wat, we walked down the riverfront to the small but interesting Savannakhet Provincial Museum. Displays in the museum were dedicated to a wide variety of topics including the prehistory of the area, the current mining and metallurgical production in the region, and war relics. While our tour took less than 30 minutes, it was interesting to see.

The day had turned very hot again, and since we had perfectly nice A/C in our room, we went back to escape the heat and work on our future. Since we had a big, late breakfast, we decided to pick up a baguette and a watermelon for lunch, which we ate in the room. We spent the early afternoon thinking and talking about how going back to the US and resuming our previous careers didn't sound like much fun at this time. So we decided that we need to explore some ways to live overseas for a while, at least.

Later in the afternoon, we both worked on some writing and then some reading before heading out for dinner at the same place we ate last night. On the way, we stopped in a small store to buy a new pen, and lo and behold, they had tiny, 2 oz cans of Gillette Foamy shaving cream! Even though it cost over 3 USD(!) I had to buy it. We had different food and fruit shakes, but it was all delicious and inexpensive. Afterwards, we returned to the internet cafe to do some more posting and research. On the way back to the room, we picked up a couple of beers and spent the rest of the evening reading.

If you are wondering if you can afford a trip like this, this is what we spent today. Our A/C, hot shower, ensuite room was 12.50 USD. Our food bill for the day, including two big Beer Lao was 13.50 USD, museum admission was 2 USD, shaving cream, a pen, and a Doraemon sticker for Re came to 4 USD, and an hour of internet each was 1 USD, totaling 33 USD for the day's expenses. We did not ride today, so this doesn't include any fuel, which is about 6 USD per gallon (yesterday's fuel bill was 20 USD for 15 liters).

2/25 Long and Hot Ride to Tad Lo
 

Our goal for today was the Tad Lo waterfall on the Bolaven Plateau. However, this destination and many of the roads in the area are not covered by the maps in my GPS. We also have a not very detailed map of Laos, Vietnam, and Cambodia, which also does not show our destination. So today, we'll be relying on the tiny map in the Lonely Planet and some vague descriptions we found online. As near as we could figure, we would head south on Highway 13 to Koang Sedon, and then turn east on Highway 15, which should eventually intersect with Highway 20, where we would head back west and south a short distance to Tad Lo. Unlike Thailand, the roads in Laos are generally not very well signed, so navigating today could prove to be exciting.

Having no idea how long it would take to reach our destination, we got up early, had watermelon and a baguette sandwich, and hit the road by 8:30 am. It was already warm and somewhat humid when we began riding and it steadily got hotter. Again, the ride down Highway 13 was great, flat, dusty, and boring, just muddy rivers and scrubby trees. A quick check of the thermometer showed that it was already in the high 90s before noon. We decided that looking at the thermometer was only making us feel hotter, so we put it away for good. We spied signs for Kongxedone and decided it was close enough to be Koang Sedon. In Kongxedone, there was a sign pointing west that said “Salavan.” Salavan was at the end of Highway 15, so this must be our road.

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Except that when we turned onto it, it was dirt. At first it was hard-packed and smooth, but then it varied between this and being covered with two inches of powdery dirt and potholed dirt.

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We were on this road for about 50 miles, and it appeared in some areas that they are planning to pave it sometime, but not today. At many of the river crossings, the bridges were under construction, so we had to detour down to river level and cross the riverbed. Fortunately, it is the dry season, so we only ran into a couple patches of mud. The riding was very challenging on our little bikes, but I was happy to see Re safely making her way through the deep silt, since I know that, after Namibia, these kinds of conditions make her nervous. At one point, we had to take a detour from our dirt road to another, smaller, dirt road that passed through a couple of tiny villages. The road here ran along a small canal, in which there were several groups of naked five- to ten-year olds, frolicking in the water. If we had known at the time that Tad Lo was only another hour away, I would have stopped and jumped in with them. Did I mention, it was hot?

Shortly after the detour, my GPS, which had up until now not shown a single road in the area, suddenly displayed Highway 20 about 6 miles south of the road we were on. A mile or so later, I spied a single-lane dirt road heading south out of a small village. I hoped that it would go all the way through to Highway 20, so we followed it south as it wound its way, eventually, to Highway 20! This single-lane road was an even more challenging road than Highway 15, but I am glad to report that both of us made it through safe and sound. We were overjoyed to see that Highway 20 was paved, and doubly happy to see a sign that said Tad Lo 25 km. We headed east again, and the 35- to 40-mph that we were able to maintain made for much better airflow through our jackets. We followed the signs into Tad Lo and were soon greeted by a very scary bridge and beautiful waterfall. One surprising thing about this town is the number of farang on little underbones. Apparently the guesthouses in Pakse are now promoting a 3- to 4-day DIY riding loop around the Bolaven Plateau. It's kind of cool, but it also made Re and I cringe a little, since most people's protective riding gear consisted of flipflops, silk pants, and dreadlocks.

While there were guesthouses before the bridge, we decided to cross it to be closer to the waterfall, and that's when disaster nearly struck.

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Many boards that make up the deck of the bridge have rotted or are missing. As I was trying to avoid an area of particularly bad boards, I swerved and came within millimeters of hitting the side of the bridge. But somehow, I managed to avoid it. Not skill, just dumb, ****in' luck. While Re went to scout out some accommodations, I pulled into the shade of a tree, turned off the bike, and my hands were shaking when I removed them from the handlebars.

Re found us a nice bungalow near the waterfall, so we unpacked our bikes, schlepped our gear up the long, uneven path, stripped off our Dariens, and jumped into the shower to wash off the thick layer of red dust. Since we had no lunch today, we decided to head out for an early dinner. Most of the restaurants were on the other side of the bridge, and when we walked across, we could see what poor shape it was actually in. We found a really cheap place for dinner called Mama Paps, where Re had chicken larp and I had spicy pork and sticky rice. We also each had a fruit shake and split a big Beer Lao, and our total bill was 7.50 USD, and we were stuffed. Mama Paps sign says “Big food for small kips,” and it's true. Now that the sun was truly down, the bridge was even scarier going back in the dark. Fortunately, Re had her headlamp in her daypack. We were both exhausted after today's ride, so we were in bed with lights out at 9:00 pm. Damn, we're getting old!

185 miles in 7.5 hours. Between the dirt roads, dust, and heat, this is what we imagined riding in Africa would be like. For the record, the vast majority of the roads we traveled in Africa were paved.

2/26 Tad Lo
 

After an appropriate number of smacks of the snooze button, we finally rolled out of bed, grabbed a shower, and wandered back to Mama Paps. Since neither of us could decide what to have, we ordered a pancake that was actually bigger than the plate and covered in sliced bananas and drizzled with Ovaltine and condensed milk, and two fried eggs, a baguette, and two coffees. We split it all, and it was good. We also refilled our water bottles at another guesthouse along the way. When Re was stowing the bottles in her daypack, she noticed that something oily had leaked all over the bag and one leg of her shorts. We carried the bag back to our bungalow, holding it away from our bodies and clothes. Re removed things from her bag and found the offending article. She had a jar of solid hand lotion from Lush, but in this heat, it was no longer solid. Even though the lid was on tightly, the oily lotion leaked out and all over her bag. After removing all the contents (it's amazing what accumulates in seven months) she threw it in the sink, along with her shorts, and gave them a good scrubbing. While she was at it, she did the rest of our dirty laundry and hung them on a line on our front porch. We spent a couple of hours taking it easy and working on a little writing before walking back to Mama's for fruit shakes.

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It was another hot day, so we headed to the waterfalls and jumped in the water to cool off. The water felt great, but the current was surprisingly strong. This coupled with the slippery rocks made for a rather undignified crossing to the falls side of the pool. I essentially ended up scooting on my butt, but Re crossed with much more grace. We sat in the water for several hours, talking and laughing, and only left as the sky grew dark and rain began to fall. When the thunder began, we climbed back down the falls and I scooted my way back across the river to the shore. We were surprised when we got back to the room to see that it was nearly 6:00 pm. Time flies when you're having fun.

We jumped back in the shower to get cleaned up and crossed the bridge to dinner. Tonight, we decided to expand our culinary horizons, so we went to the restaurant across the street from Mama's. The restaurant was very busy tonight, and it took a while to get our food, but it was very good when it arrived, and they had cold Beer Laos to entertain us while we waited.

Just before we reached the bridge on the way back to our bungalow, we came upon two farang watching two local men work on an underbone. The men were working on the chain case of the bike by the light of a cellphone. Since Re had her headlamp with her, we decided to shine a little light on the situation. Apparently, the farang were on a hired bike from Pakse and had been crossing the bridge during the rain. The female of the couple had been riding the bike across the bridge and swerved to avoid the pothole at the end, and they crashed. (We have seen many couples on rented bikes, and a surprising number of them have been piloted by the woman. And most of the women riders have been tall, attractive, and large chested! It's a good thing.) They didn't sustain much in the way of injuries, just a couple scrapes, but the chain was apparently rubbing on the chain case, making an alarming noise. Since they didn't seem to have the first clue about anything mechanical, the nice gentlemen were helping them out. Since Re and I are well-familiar with chain cases and things that go wrong with them, we offered our assistance. Basically, the top half of their chain case was ****ed. I don't know if it happened in the crash, or from a ham-fisted repair attempt, but the threads in the captive nut were buggered. Without a tap, or at least a file, it wasn't getting fixed tonight. The nice gentlemen concurred and simply left the top half of the chain case off the bike. We wished everyone good luck and goodnight, and headed back to the room. We grabbed some beers from reception and went back to our bungalow for Re to finish the blogpost she had started earlier, and then to play some Word Warp.

2/27 Ride to Pakse
 

We woke to an overcast and much cooler, but very humid, morning. We showered and started carrying our gear back down to the bikes under dark skies. We geared up, rode back across the bridge and promptly, stopped at Mama's for breakfast. While we waited for breakfast to be served, we chatted with some of the other travelers who were also there for breakfast. I am probably starting to sound like my father, but were young people always this stupid?

Around 10:30 am, we rolled out of Mama's under still dark skies, and began the short ride to Pakse. The cloudy skies lasted for maybe 10 or 15 miles, and then we cheered when the sky was suddenly bright blue. Our cheers were short-lived, since with the return of the sun came the return of the heat. At least we were riding quickly today, and the airflow through our vents helped somewhat. Again, the ride was dusty and boring, but at least it was short. We arrived in Pakse around 12:45 pm and found a nice guesthouse. Like our bungalow in Tad Lo, our room in Pakse was also non-A/C. Since the rest of our trip will probably be in similar temperatures, we decided that we need to get reacclimated to the heat, so we are doing without A/C for a while. We will see how long that lasts.

We used the guesthouse wifi to post some of our writings from the last couple of days and to do some research on onward travel and our overseas livin' plan. Re does enjoy the occasional massage (the legitimate kind), and I had spied an advertisement for a nearby massage parlor that offered a one hour traditional Lao massage for about 4 USD. In the middle of the afternoon, we walked out to the massage parlor, where I left Re in the capable hands of another woman and found a seat by the Mekong, where I spent my time reading through the Lonely Planet. Re and I are trying to decide whether to head into Cambodia, which we loved when we visited before, but has bad roads and crooked border officials, or to head back into Thailand and see some of northeast Thailand, which we missed last time. From my reading, northeast Thailand doesn't seem to offer as much as Cambodia, so I think we will take our chances with Cambodia. When the hour was up, I walked back to the massage parlor to find a happy and relaxed Re. We went back to our room and spent some more time poking around on the interwebs looking for more information on Cambodia and the upcoming border crossing. Later in the evening, we found a Vietnamese restaurant for dinner, where we split three different entrees, two Beer Laos, and came away fat and happy. But not too fat to stop and get some ice cream on the way back to the room. For those of you keeping score, this was our first ice cream in Laos.


60 miles in 2 hours

2/28 Pakse Utility Day
 

Yesterday, when I was reading by the Mekong, I felt something bite my toe. I looked down to see a small ant on top of “this little piggy stayed home,” but didn't think much of it. This morning I woke up before the alarm went off to a painful itching in the same toe. Having been bitten by fire ants in the States, I recognized the feeling. I tried to fall back asleep, but basically just dozed until the alarm went off. For Re's sake, I hit the snooze a few times before getting up and dragging her out of bed. While we drank coffee, we put together a shopping list of things we would need in the next week or so. Before we took a shower, we decided to get a little hot and sweaty...working on the bikes.

Re had mentioned that her chain was making noise on yesterday's ride, so I wanted to remove her chain case and check the sprocket bolts. Once the chain case was removed, I found that all the bolts were still tight, but Re's chain was a little loose. We adjusted her chain and lubed it, then checked mine and lubed it too. The other bike issue that needed some attention today was our batteries. For the past couple of days, I've had to kick start my bike since the battery seems to be dead. Re's is still starting, but not very vigorously. We pulled off the side covers, and sure enough, just like in Goa, our batteries were nearly dry. And again, since we didn't have any distilled water, we refilled them with purified water, which goes against every recommendation, but it worked last time! We may run into a sulfiting problem in the future, but for now, it's the best we've got. When we uncrated our bikes in Bangkok, we saw that Re's rack was cracking again, so after the 50 miles of dirt road on our way to Tad Lo, we decided to check the progress of the cracks. Well, they aren't cracks anymore, they've graduated to breaks. Sigh. We are going to need to get the rack welded again, but I think we'll wait until after we see how rough the roads in Cambodia are.

With the work done and tools put away, we hopped in the shower to get cleaned up. We then walked out to the “shopping center” and looked for the items on our list. We were able to get most things, but we weren't able to find any cotton boxer shorts in our sizes. Both of us have been having problems with what I assume is prickly heat on our butts in this hot weather, and since all of our clothes are quick-dry, man made materials, we thought some cotton pants might help with the problem. We did find some cotton boxers in the market, but the Lao idea of “Large” and America's idea of “Large” are very different sizes. We consoled ourselves with lunch at the market. After lunch, we went to a motorcycle shop I had seen when walking around yesterday and bought some oil to replace the semi-synthetic oil I put in in Bangkok. The other day I was thinking we were probably about due for an oil change and checked my notebook to see when the last one was. I was surprised to see that we've covered over 2,800 miles since Bangkok. I have been trying to change the oil around the 2,000 mile mark (and have missed a couple of times), but I really can't believe that we've ridden 2,800 miles in 28 days. We stopped to buy a watermelon, and then went back to the room to work on some more writing and do more research on possible future plans. After taking a break for some watermelon, Re worked on more writing, while I chatted with many other guests in the common area. Later, we went out for Indian food, but found that the recommended restaurant was no longer in business. So instead, we had dinner at a different Vietnamese place.

2/29 Leap Day Ride to Don Khong
 

Our plan for today was to ride south to Champasak to see the Khmer-era Wat Phu Champasak and then continue south to Don Khong, an island in the Four Thousand Islands region. Wat Phu is supposed to be one of the most impressive archaeological sites in Laos, located adjacent to a mountain, with excellent views of the Mekong valley. To reach Champasak, we would ride south on Highway 13, then take a ferry across the Mekong to the Wat. After taking a ferry ride back to 13, we would continue south to another ferry crossing for the island of Don Khong. The total distance should only be about 100 miles, but we wanted to get an early start in order to have time to see the Wat and get to Don Khong at a reasonable hour.

With this in mind, we woke up early, had coffee and watermelon for breakfast, and then hit the road at 8:15 am. After an hour or so, we arrived at the ferry crossing for Champasak and were greeted by a long, sandy hill to the water's edge. There was a large vehicle ferry at the dock that didn't seem to be going anywhere anytime soon. A local worker pointed across the river, we nodded, and he pointed to an area further up the riverbank, where small, motorcycle ferries were docked. Since we were facing 300 to 400 yards of sand to get there, I left Re with the bikes and walked there to get the info. The ferries consisted of three narrow canoe hulls, topped with an open-sided, wood platform approximately ten ft square. A small motor, similar to those on our boat in Kong Lor Cave was attached to the center hull. One of the boatmen told me it would be 20,000 kip per bike to cross. The price seemed a little high, but they have a boat, and we don't. The other bit of good news was that there was a firmer looking sand road that came directly down to this launch area from the main road. As I turned to walk away, I heard another of the boat men yelling at the man I spoke with, but I just kept walking. I came back and told Re about the other road, so we turned around and made our way back to the main road, and then down to the ferry. When we got to the bottom of the ramp, we were stopped by a different man, who now said the price would be 30,000 kip. I shook my head and said 20, but he insisted on 30. I know that tourists are often charged more than locals pay, but considering this should have been a 10,000 kip ride, I wasn't paying 30,000. The 120,000 kip that it would have cost us to cross the river would be 15 USD, and that's just too much. Re and I talked it over for a second and decided against Wat Phu Champasak. We turned our bikes around and started up the hill to the road. In my mirror, I could see our ferry driver run off his boat and begin yelling at the man who tried to overcharge us. For many years, Laos has had the reputation of treating tourists fairly when it comes to prices, but maybe that's beginning to change.

We rode back to Highway 13 and continued south. A couple hours later, we pulled up to the ferry for Don Khong. The large vehicle ferry had left recently and was part way across the river when we arrived. Further along the shoreline, I could see the pilot of another of the three hulled, open platform ferries motioning us down to the shoreline. I left Re on higher (and firmer) ground and rode down to check the price. 20,000 per bike was the price we agreed upon after a series of hand gestures. I motioned Re to come on down, and the pilot pulled his boat closer to the shore. He grabbed a wooden ramp, approximately three ft wide and five ft long, and put it between the shore and the side of the boat. While he steadied the boat, I rode up the ramp and onto the deck. He then moved over the ramp, so Re could ride on next to me. She looked a little nervous coming up the ramp, but then broke into a big smile when she made it safely. There was only about a foot of deck between our wheels and the water on either end, and the pilot was thoughtful enough to block our front wheels with a rock, so at least we wouldn't roll forward off the boat. He then cranked up the motor, and we rode the half mile or so across the river to the island.

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We tried to snap a couple of photos on the way, but since we were sitting on our bikes right next to each other, they didn't come out very well. At the far shore, the pilot pulled the boat as close as he could and again, bridged the gap with the wooden ramp. You would think that the dismount onto the shore would be less nervous than riding onto an open-sided platform in the water, except that once we reached the end of the ramp on the island, we were riding into deep sand. I was the first to go, so I revved the mighty Symba, crossed the ramp, powered through the sand, and ten feet later, found firmer ground. Re followed me and fortunately, stayed on the power, too. Our little bikes and their lack of power certainly do make some otherwise mundane maneuvers seem exciting!

We then rode up the sandy hill to the paved road and continued two miles or so north into the town of Muang Khong. Because we skipped Wat Phu, it was only about noon when we arrived, so Re took the time to check out a few guesthouses before settling on the Done Khong Guesthouse. We got and A/C room at the front of the building, and our balcony looks out on the Mekong. Once we got our gear unloaded into the room, we checked the menus at many of the restaurants that are built on decks on the edge of the river. We chose our favorite and had a delicious and lazy lunch, watching the fishermen throw their cast nets. It was another stupefyingly hot day, so we went back to cool off in the A/C for a while before going out again for a walk. We stopped in to see the pretty, old Wat that was located on the edge of “town” and then went back to the guesthouse to sit on the balcony and do some reading. We plan to spend our time on Don Khong doing as little as possible, and today was a good start.

Later in the evening, we walked across the street to our guesthouse's restaurant on the river's edge. We enjoyed a Beer Lao while we waited for our meals to arrive and were treated to a bizarre spectacle swirling around the overhead lights. Since the sun was going down when we arrived, they switched on the overhead lights, and almost immediately, they were surrounded by a whirlwind of thousands and thousands of small, white moth-like insects. For the next 15 minutes or so, these bugs created a small tornado around each of the lights. More bizarre, was that after a few minutes the bugs began to fall out of the air and died shortly after landing. The waiter asked if we wanted to move inside the main building, but we declined since this was pretty fascinating to see. Most of the activity had “died” down before our meal arrived, so we were able to eat in relative peace. Before heading up to the room, we grabbed a couple more Beer Lao and continued with our reading.


100 miles in about 3.5 hours, including a short boat ride.

3/1 Lazy Day in Don Khong
 

From our walk yesterday, it seems that the town of Muang Khong is made up almost exclusively of guesthouses and their associated restaurants. We didn't see a market or any kind of general store. Yesterday afternoon, Re asked our hostess if there was a market and was told that there is, but only a very early market. Re wanted to head there this morning, so when the alarm went off at 6:30 am, I stayed awake long enough to make sure Re got out of bed and then I rolled over to doze some more. About 45 minutes later, she returned with a watermelon but was apparently unable to find the market. She had asked several people along the way and walked quite a distance, but to no avail. So we had coffee and watermelon on the verandah overlooking the Mekong before heading downstairs to do an oil change on both bikes.

We wheeled the bikes to a shady, ant-free workspace a few hundred feet up the road. We unrolled the tarp, got out the tools, and got to work on Re's bike first. After removing the drain bolt, the sight of some fine, metallic bits stuck to the magnetic bolt made me a little nervous. Re then commented that the draining oil didn't look right to her. It did seem very thin and the color was slightly reddish brown. The red color made me worry that the oil was contaminated with gasoline, since the gasoline in Laos is the color of cherry cough syrup, but it didn't smell of gasoline. Maybe it's just due to the fact that it's a semi-synthetic oil, which I have never used in these bikes. I then removed the oil screen to clean it, and fortunately, there was no metal to be found here. After the oil finished draining, we refilled the sump with the Honda-branded, MA standard oil we purchased in Pakse. I also took the opportunity to check all the fasteners in the frame and engine, and all were tight. With Re's bike finished, we repeated the whole process with my bike. Again, there was a little swarf on the metallic drain plug, but in addition, when I wiped the oil off the drain bolt, it left a silver discoloration on the cloth. Hmmm. Again, the oil didn't look right and seemed thin. I have read accounts of counterfeit oil being sold in southeast Asia, but I bought this oil at a big name gas station and checked to make sure the seals on the bottles were intact. After my bike was buttoned back up and refilled, we drained the oil from the one gallon Ziploc back into the oil bottles for disposal. When the bottles were refilled, we seemed to be short a couple tenths of a liter in what we had drained from the bikes. I'm unsure what is going on here (if anything) but I will have to keep a closer eye on these developments.

We wheeled the bikes back to the guesthouse and then went upstairs to get cleaned up. We spent the remainder of the morning lounging on the verandah and reading our books. Our goal for today was to take it easy, and we seemed to be succeeding. Soon enough it was lunch time, so we walked along the river to the spot we ate yesterday. While we waited for our food, we watched a man spearfishing in the water directly below us. After a decent lunch, we returned to our spots on the verandah and continued our lazy ways.

Around 5:00 pm, we put on our helmets and went for a ride around the island. For being an island in the river, Don Khong is fairly large, at about 12 miles long and 5 miles wide. We rode north along the east side of the island as far as we could and then returned down the west to see the sunset over the Mekong.

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The area we rode through was agricultural, with surprisingly large areas of rice paddy and many water buffaloes. Re stopped to take a picture of what must have been a very young buffalo.

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His feet seemed two sizes too big for his body, and he walked rather unsteadily. We rode further south and came to a surprisingly large town with many stores and restaurants and a large market area.

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We rode through the town to the river's edge, where we watched the sun set. After it dipped below the horizon, we cut through the center of the island and back to our guesthouse for dinner.

On our way north, I had spied a large motorcycle with aluminum bags and German plates, so we walked up to check it out. It was an Africa Twin covered in Touratech and Zega, and Re and I just smiled at each other. The more we ride our little bikes, the more we chuckle about this kind of “Charlie and Ewan” special. When you consider that the accessories alone on this motorcycle cost more than our motorcycles, it is kind of funny. We have now been through thirteen countries and ridden nearly 19,000 miles, and although it might take us a little longer, there's almost no place that these big bikes can go that we can't (and there are plenty of places we can go that they can't). To each his own, but I think that too many people spend a lot of money on their bikes and gear that they could instead spend on traveling and beer! We walked back to our guesthouse, had another good dinner. Later, we grabbed a couple of Beer Laos and headed to the room and drank a toast to our last Beer Lao in Laos.


25 miles in about 1.5 hours. My clutch is much happier with the new oil.

Hey! What happened to you guys? I've been barely hanging on waiting for another installment for what seems like months. Oh wait, it HAS been months! Hope you guys are okay and that you post soon!

They have continued posting on ADVrider.com, and in fact are in northern California right now, heading for Oregon.

They stopped posting here because they weren't getting nearly as much feedback as they do over on ADV.

Perhaps that's because they responded to only one person who posted in their thread, and that was in response to a question about whether they had a map. Never to anyone else. That's why I stopped following them about halfway through their thread. Seemed a bit full of themselves.