Bamboo Odyssey » Wild camping | Bamboo Odyssey

Mangystau

Jules — Sun, 10 Nov 2013 04:03:59 +0000

After a few hiccups we did not leave Aktau until 3pm. Not such a big deal as we had already planned to stay until noon making the most of our hotel. We pedalled off on a lesser road to Shetpe. Travelling along what felt like an industrial waste land, the road quickly deteriorated and we followed power lines, a train line and gas pipeline into the starkness that was the desert.
I was feeling on edge, we knew finding ‘stealth’ camp sites was going to be difficult and I was feeling very, very exposed. Sooner than necessary we chose a place to pitch the tent….behind the pipeline and a few piles of rubble.
Fortunately we only traveled 36km as the next morning after another 2 km a car pulled us over enquiring as to where we were going. Much gesturing and crossing of arms later we understood the driver was saying the road to Shepte was impassable. We deliberated, looked at our map, looked at Google maps…..where the road mysteriously disappears about 30km before our first town….and turned back to Aktau. We would trace our steps, our pedalling, and take the longer route.
After Aktau, the road deteriorated further. The asphalt appeared fine, until we rolled, bumped….bumped, and jumped along it. The road was crazed and in places patched, thousands of patches never flattened down so that despite an absence of pot holes the road was slow and uncomfortable. Like cobble stones….irregular cobble stones. Occasionally we would be blessed with 10 meters, even 50 meters of a thin veneer of smooth bitumen but you could still feel many of the old patches underneath.
Again I began to feel edgy, where would we spend our night…..there was absolutely nothing, not a hill, tree, hump as far as the horizon. We descended into a valley situated well below sea level and as evening approached we noted a big climb back onto the steppe. Just before the climb a sign indicated a picnic area and small scrubby plants off the side of the road. We investigated. A small spring from the ground explained the plants but nowhere was invisible from the road. Li strolled off to further investigate the ridge we were soon to climb. She soon returned saying she had found the perfect camp spot. Puzzled….”but I could see you the whole time?”
“Can you see the 5 camels”
Well….”No?”
“Good…..then no one will see us”
“What about the camels?”
“There is plenty of room for all of us!”
The camels did not think so and wandered off as we descended into the banks of a dry river bed. Wild horses strolled the ridges as we pitched for another night.
…….more crap roads…..ferocious headwind. The wind was hindering, bitter, cold…..crap wind. Still on asphalt and so very slow. We took refuge in our music and after a 90 degree bend in the road, music and tail wind, we were feeling euphoric as we clocked 9000 kilometres on the odometer. We celebrated with a brief rest to watch the mechanical donkeys, oil and gas fields, and shortly afterwards an unexpected town to purchase some extra food and some beer. We requested and were given well water at the mosque.
With the beer we celebrated our next found refuge for the night. Our first experience of sleeping in a culvert, a small concrete tunnel directly under the road……after we cleaned out the fossilised human crap.
Shetpe…..our last chance to stock up on supplies, and we made our first purchase of water for the entire time we have been traveling. We knew there would be the occasional tea house and as it is getting cold we use less water so we only purchased two 5 litre bottles. We still had a small supply from Aktau.
Not far after Shetpe, about 30 km , the crap road ceased to exist and became a crap track. A very wide track as the 2 lanes became 6 as trucks and the fewer cars have over time worn a super slow ‘highway’ further and further into the desert, away from the centre of the “road” in an attempt to avoid the bumps and sand and dust holes and crevices of the original path. In places up to 7 further tracks weave their way in roughly the right direction, occasionally diverging and criss crossing and the traffic including ourselves, moves between all the lesser width tracks looking for the smoothest way forward.
Bull dust……Li thought I was making the word up, but the Oz outback is full of it…..this track was full of it, as were our eyes, noses, clothes, our underpants. Unlike sand it is not so abrasive, but gets in even more places, is sticky and cloying…..Especially in your mouth……We put on our ski goggles. Fortunately it was mostly shallow bulldust…..when not in the air…. and we rolled…..ok….bumped, relatively easily over most of it. In other places it was a foot thick.
We found another camp site between 2 hills above the road. It had been a beautiful day, riding in T-shirts. The temperature plummeted. As we finished our camp meal ice crystals formed on the remains. We woke struggling to remove the frozen caps of out water storage. Both 5 litre containers almost solid….we peeled our frozen bananas, packed away our frozen eggplant and remaining tomato for later on. Too cold to check the temperature over night it must have been our coldest yet going by the degree of ice. It was -2 when we climbed into the not so welcoming tent at 8pm.
More tracks, more wind, no wind, beautiful sun shine, even tail winds. The wind bought on the cold and we were in and out of layers of clothing as it picked up then abated. The wind chill could make a high temperature of 20 degrees feel like zero.
More culverts…..we slept in 6 tunnels under the road out of the ten nights. Mostly they were clean and a refuge from the wind, occasionally they became a wind tunnel. There was evidence camels had entered some, crawling on their knees which must be a sight. Their fur stuck to the small circular walls.
Despite the refuge from prying eyes I did not overly like sleeping in tunnels but I loved our desert adventure. The cold and our troglodyte adaption was well worth the extremes of experience. Starry nights void of all light pollution. Shooting stars. The sun rising, pinks, reds, blue hughes and camels silhouetted on the horizon. Picture books becoming reality, the real sounds of silence.
And occasionally the road became pure bliss, fresh new Tarmac for 20 kilometres or so, then tracks, then Tarmac. We rode on the unfinished road that is years from completion and joining up, but the small sections were a well earned break, briefly from the filling, teeth jiggling kilometre after very long kilometre to Beyneu…..our last town before Uzbekistan.

Cycle touring in Azerbaijan

Jules — Sat, 26 Oct 2013 15:05:53 +0000

We did not see much of Azerbaijan. One month visa but the necessity of keeping 2 weeks free in Baku meant a relatively hasty ride to the capital once leaving Georgia…..no detours to natures delights. Though we did a 6 km detour to Bum. Off the main road, but joining up so that the distance was not so great, our childish selves decided a photo of Bum was absolutely necessary.. We did not detour to bubbling volcanic mud flats, ancient castles, churches, national parks…..we cycled to, bumped, skidded, pushed along a rocky track…..to Bum. Nothing there bar a small village, but we like small villages, loved the beauty, the trail towards the base of the mountain, clouds swelling and snowy peaks in the distance. 6 km and 2 hours later…..it was flat going, but hard going, we arrived in the back end of Bum.
Fortunately the road became bitumen as we passed through.
In Azerbaijan the landscape, the climate changes dramatically within a days ride. Our first, we cycled beside the Greater Caucusus. Majestic and filling us with excitement. The trees representing autumn while not so very far away, higher, winter is well on its way. Our first evening we lose sight of the snowy peaks and miraculously find ourselves camping in sub tropical rainforest. Twisted vines, ferns, damp and rotting leaf matter…….And of course…..cows.
Strange whooping, howling packs of some kind of animal somewhere close by. Eerily these creatures are present every night, starting up their banshee like howl as the sun blinks out….and quiet, then again and again until we fall asleep. We call them the ‘whoopies’. They are not dogs…..but they set off the dogs into a barking frenzy.
Then a day of rain and mizzle.
Another night we camp on the edge of a national park. For hours we had cycled on a road encased in dappled golden light, catching occasional glimpses of the crystal clear blue sky above. Shrouded by gigantic trees, possibly beech…..the next morning I had to correct Li from rolling deeper, further into the forest where bears, elk, wolves and other unseen, unheard creatures were protected. We still heard the whoopies.
Back to the main road, the trees became smaller, but more colourful…..and rather prickly. Careful where we squat when nature calls. The temperature at night became warmer. And then a day of 30 degrees. We hit desert, warm and clear and emotionally, visually moving.
What we did see of Azerbaijan was beautiful and full of contrast….similarity the small villages, towns, city. There is a lot of money……and no money. The money is flashy, shouting….bling, bling. In rural areas the money is visible in people’s golden teeth. Newly built facades, castle like walls and structures hiding the crumbling and forgotten……Lada or Mercedes. I like the new Lada……simple, tough, efficient and no bling.
Azerbaijan produces oil…..the petrol we purchase to fuel our stove is pink, stinks of sulphur and burns rough. In each country we by petrol, the colour, the smell, the burn…..is significantly different.
Baku ‘s old town is beautiful, restored for tourists and the rich…..Li does not like it……it is too clean, feels too new. Are the city walls really that ancient? The old city is brand new perfection. Cross a major road…..if you dare…..for pedestrians it is treacherous……and there live the poor, the disabled, the disenfranchised.
The sky line is London, New York…..you will find glass, steel, ceramic, dramatic illumination, resembling scenes from around the world.
Every where we travel people are fascinated with the fact that our bikes are constructed from bamboo. This is the first country where people notice, are excited that the bike chains are the colour of gold.

Funny bunnies and wild camping

Jules — Wed, 03 Apr 2013 13:39:40 +0000

It was a chilly night camping at Annet S-Marne but not so cold that I had to get out of sleeping bag for an extra layer. We were both showered with ice exiting tent as we touched the canopy while the sun was shining in a way I had forgotten the sun can shine. On day 10 we quickly warmed up and discarded layers and my feet became actually warm. My kit has served me well with the exception of my toes and probably enhanced by poor circulation.
Stopping for lunch in an historical city, Meaux we came across a tourist information office on the right side of what appeared to be a fortress. With my arm waving (and an aid that could speak “a little” english were discovered we could cycle along a canal in roughly the direction we are headed……not really bothered as long as it crosses the champagne region.
Purchasing baguette, gloriously spoonable cheese……I had planned in grabbing some Brie as its made here, but the cheese I just had to have was too ripe to say no, and other sandwich provisions we put off lunch till we hit the canal. (Oh dear……writing this I just remember the remainder of the cheese is probably running all over the insides of Li’s pannier!)
Lunch washed down with a beer, I though Li had had too much as I heard her exclaim something about “funny bunnies”. Slamming on the breaks thinking I was going to miss something of the magnitude of Alice in wonderland ……I had enjoyed the same quantity of beer….we discovered some grazing otters on the field across the canal. There was also a litter(?) of four young ones that didn’t stick around with my squealing and running up and down the bank…….I had never seen an otter before. We rode until 8.20 in the evening and saw more otters than people along the canal.
It was the first day that I rode in front for long stretches, and on discussions of where to stay, I urged we push on just another 10 km or so. Secretly I wanted to see more otters even if it meant rushing towards my fears of the dark, somewhat balanced by the thrill of wild camping.
As the light wained and the canal mirrored the surrounding forrest as the headwind abated, this ride of 65 km became one of the most beautiful, peaceful and easy rides of my life. (Not so far from anywhere as the zig zag of the water ways evident when passed sign stating Paris only 90km away and we had cycled 135km.)
We pitched our tent in a dip on the bend of the canal to be out of view from the non existent pedestrians. As my imagination went wild I calmed myself to with beauty of the stars, and the relative silence and the freedom I felt. Woken in the middle of the night by a distant sound we thought may be wild pigs, even that did not alarm me for long and I think at the age of 42, I may just about be….no longer afraid of the dark.