The scenery alongside the Trans-Sumatra highway gave us a new definition of the word ‘green’. Green is overwhelming, multi-hued and… Tropical.
So it’s also dreaming of a cool shower at the end of a long, hot day.
Looking out over the Pacific Ocean, we began to realize what we had gotten ourselves into; a 3 month journey between the two coasts.
What would we encounter? How steep were the mountain passes? What about the heat in Kansas? Would everybody be able to get along?
We then turned east towards Virginia as America slowly unfolded itself before us.
Boring, boring, boring! Pedalling across the flat, monotonous, Colorado Plateau – we wondered when it would ever end.
Then we spotted the sign; ‘10% grade, switchbacks, narrow gravel road.’
We had reached Moki Dugway cliff and over 1,000 feet below the paved road continued.
An advantage of cycling over driving is that you can’t have engine problems.
So you’ll never have to call a tow-truck.
“Ophir Pass? It’s spectacular! You guys shouldn’t have a problem cycling up it,” said the tourist information lady reassuringly.
Perhaps she had been altitude training – or lying – because we suffered. We weren’t acclimatized and by midday, we were still struggling to reach the summit.
She was right about the scenery though. We ended up pitching our tent near the top with a panoramic view of the San Juan Mountains.
After heading down the switchbacks of Mineral Canyon, we spotted the entrance sign to Canyonlands National Park.
“Entrance to another planet is more like it,” remarked Paul as we struggled to pedal (and push!) our bicycles through the sand.
Dwarfed by this landscape of immense rock, we realized why the White Rim Trail has become a classic mountain bike route.
Gateway’s supermarket-café specializes in greasy hamburgers with extra ketchup. But after a week of granola bars, they were heaven!
Sadly, the store’s shelves were empty. So the next morning we set off with hotdogs from the restaurant as we headed up towards the La Sal Mountains.
“I don’t suppose you guys have snow tires for those bikes?” asked a hunter. We just laughed.
That night a storm hit and the next morning, we woke up to a ‘winter wonderland.’
We tried to pack the tent in, but even without stakes it stood frozen in place.
So we crawled back into our sleeping bags for a day of card games and listening to country music.
In India, shrines are everywhere.
We came across elephants who bestow blessings, Hanuman statues carved in rock faces, termite mounds draped in gold cloth and even Ganesh’s face painted on tree trunks.
Cows lounging in the streets, shacks with tin roofs, bus horns blaring to announce their departure. That’s India.
But the painted towns of Shekhawati display a wealthy past that’s difficult to reconcile with their present day state.
Touring the dusty, backwater towns felt as if were were visiting an abandoned art gallery.
At a truck stop, a Sikh chauffeur showed us our location on the map while the mechanics wanted to know what was in our water bottles. (Whiskey? diesel?)
The place was a world in itself since the mechanics lived behind their workshops.
The last thing we expected to see while traveling the polluted, over-crowded Delhi-Jaipur highway is Amber Fort.
It’s a beacon of elegance that rises above the Aravalli hills.
Once inside, we felt miles away from the chaos of India.
Distracted by the movie billboards, Grace collided with an oncoming rickshaw.
Thankfully nothing was damaged and they were both able to pedal on.
A magical evening around the Bodhnath stupa.
Tibetan families came there to light candles in honor of the Buddha.
Rental bike owners make offerings to Durga; to ensure a safe year on the road.
What!? Not even a can of Dinty Moore?
