Month: August 2013

Categories
Adventure Bicycle Travel

290 – 293: Edmonton to Lloydminster, AB

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Just a quick blog post and images before heading forwards on into Saskatchewan. Hope you enjoy the photos.

Road life’s been going pretty well recently. Leaving Edmonton was super built up and was definitely more precarious than arriving, but darting traffic and getting hit by the gusts from passing trucks keeps you on your toes / pushes you along nicely.  It didn’t take too long to be out of the city and back in the depths of rural farmland, where the fields begin and are consistent throughout the day – green wherever you look, loads of barley fields and the biggest round hay bails you’ve ever seen. It’s often really similar to riding through the countryside back in the UK but without the hills.

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One major positive shift is that it goes dark again, which makes the whole travel part seem a lot more thrilling – obviously it didn’t happen overnight but there’s now a lot of darkness and cooler temperatures from about 8pm. Whilst it means not as much road time, it also means overall quality of sleep and body clock is vastly improved. It’s now possible to be fully recharged after camping rather than just a bit rested, which is awesome and has a big effect throughout the rest of the day. There’s been a lot of stealth camping happening – beside a baseball pitch was probably the best, and now that the stars are on show again the night photography has re-started.

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In a rest stop near Ross Creek, at sunset it looked like a perfect night. The sky was an intense red, but the cloud cover was minimal, until about 3 hours later when the mother of thunder and lightning storms began. It lasted maybe two hours, and offered intense rain and the type of lightning where you can’t pin down where it’s coming from, it’s just happening all around you. It was super dramatic with huge flashes of bright white light and shaky rumbles of thunder, but being in a rest stop there was a bunch of lampposts and trees and all that good stuff so it never felt sketchy. I doubt there’s anyone on earth who could sleep through those roars, so I digged into the RadioLab podcasts (check out the episode – ‘Limits’) and hunkered down with a chocolate spread sandwich. Yep. Happy days. Typical view:

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I’m just writing this post whilst passing through Lloydminster, on the way east. Down the road is the start of a new province, Saskatchewan – it’s crazy really because it didn’t seem like much time was spent in Alberta compared to everywhere else.  Nonetheless, those simple road signs are a great boost and a literal indicator of progress. Onwards to Saskatoon. Intrigued to see what this next province will bring.

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290: Edmonton – Ross Creek
291: Ross Creek – Mannville
292: Mannville – Lloydminster

Categories
Adventure Bicycle Travel Interviews Philosophy

Vague Direction People: Samira Mostofi

Why choose a risky, insecure and in-no-way-guaranteed path when there’s a safe and obvious one staring right at us? That’s a question that we all deal with in some form when making our own big decisions.

Samira is a kickass photographer and movie assistant, and it was only after realising that making movies was an actual job that real people do, that she transitioned away from the relatively safe path of becoming a lawyer, to a riskier one chasing a long lost dream of making movies.

This is a small segment from some footage that was shot earlier in the year, just a quick edit of some of the raw convo, where Samira has tons of actionable and inspiring points that apply to everyone about overcoming intimidation, taking a leap, ignoring reality and leveraging the positives of rejection.

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Sidenote: Speaking of photography, if you have a few minutes and want to be inspired, take a look at these.

Categories
Adventure Bicycle Travel Interviews Philosophy

Vague Direction People: Tim Koslo

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This weekend it was the close of the Edmonton Fringe Festival, so the south side of the city was bustling with street performers / singers / comedians / artists. Quite a culture shock from the recent remote weeks and it did take a little adapting to, but there’s some amazing acts (one of my favourites was from Maggie, an elderly lady who told me a poem about how she genuinely thinks we’re all from the moon), and it’s a very inviting atmosphere.


Whilst pottering about for a day, I bumped into Tim Koslo who was selling T-shirts on the street. He sells his work during the summer and is a standup comedian throughout the rest of the year. It became obvious fairly soon into talking to him, that like Brad, he’d been through more than his fair share of tough times, battling with addiction as a young adult.

Tim was open to talking about his struggles, so the conversation ended up being steered down a rabbit hole of addiction, recovery, complacency, finding what your calling is and how focusing on that can, as a convenient by-product, fix the other problems in life.

We can get caught up in the best way to do something most effectively, with the least resistance, the biggest impact and the loudest noise, but time and time again it seems like the most important and longest lasting changes come about simply by making the decision to just start.

Hope you enjoy this quick snippet video:

Categories
Adventure Bicycle Travel

271 – 287: Fort Nelson, BC to Edmonton, AB

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So the last post definitely acted as a bit of a release. Setting off from Fort St John after publishing it was like a new beginning. Weird how that works. A healthy (if a bit brash) reset. I didn’t think that posting a blog like that would have such an impact on overall mood but it definitely acted as a big exhale. Ahhh. Being basically a nomad at the moment means every now and then my overall perspective can get hazy, but hopefully that’s the hardest month over with (don’t mention the Canadian winter, ok?) and things are only up from here.

I booked the bike in to a Fort St John shop for repair. After however many miles it’s been, the drivetrain was a mess and needed swapping out – a new cassette, crank and chainrings. Picking the bike up post-repair, and taking it for a 30 second spin, it was immediately obvious that the trip was going to go a lot more smoothly than it had been doing. And that perhaps a lot of the stress in the last month has come from a bike that barely worked. There were no clunks, no skipping, all the gears worked. No tyres with holes in them and daily punctures. It was like a new bike, foreign since Arizona, and it was fast. Much faster than it had been for months. Suddenly, with a vent and a working bike, things were looking up.

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The forecast was in and it was looking good for the next 7 days. I decided to intentionally minimise being connected. 7 days straight of moving everyday, taking in the prairies and Alberta, and making a very conscious effort to get things back on a positive track, stopping to chat and film segments with the locals whenever possible and just getting back into it. It worked. It was exactly what had been missing over the last month or so. Consistency and inertia.

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The best part about the physical aspect of this trip is the tranquil state you get into when the cycling is consistent. You aren’t concerned about steep hills, mechanical issues, how many miles you’ve got to do or what time it is. It’s hardly about the cycling at all. It’s just simple. And in the prairies, which have just started, it’s amplified simplicity. It’s flat with the occassional rolling hill. Long stretches of fast and sustained movement. Plus going west to east means the wind is mainly pushing you along. Bonus. All that combined brought back a mindset that I’d been missing – less about the act of cycling and more about the state of mind it puts you in. You turn off. The human version of Sleep Mode. Suddenly you can make clear decisions, you’re more creative, more present, happier and less concerned. It’s a meditative state that I’d never personally experienced before this trip and I’d recommend it to anyone. There’s probably tons of other ways to experience a similar thing; running or swimming etc, but if you can find whatever it is that puts you in that place you’d be doing yourself a disservice to ignore it.

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In the last fortnight, the landscape has totally changed. From relatively mountainous to now vast green farmland and barley fields. Roads that stretch to the horizon and a stellar magic hour night upon night. It’s definitely getting a lot more populated now, which is very appreciated after 5 fairly remote weeks. Edmonton is the first city since Vancouver that seems really vibrant. It’s refreshing to be in a built up area for a few days before hitting the prairies again, and being a city there’s Warmshowers hospitality available which is awesome, so big thanks to Amie and Alberto for the floorspace.

It’s dark at night again, brisk in the mornings, and the land is new. The Prairies have begun and I think they’re going to provide a lot of stories.

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Categories
Adventure Bicycle Travel Philosophy

Reality and Covering It Up

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To post or not to post? I read my pal Andy’s blog post and could relate – it acted as a catalyst and a realisation that, for the last month or so, the content that has been published on this blog has been covering up the reality to avoid negativity. It’s easier to be positive if you just focus on what’s been happening in front of your eyes instead of behind them. And who wants to read a negative post, really? There’s enough negativity in the world without yet another blog joining the bandwagon. But covering up the truth in fake positivity is  disengaging and it’s see-through. And maybe writing this stuff down will be therapeutic.

There’s been emails from people saying things like “Savour every moment”, and “You’re living my dream!”. And I just think about how ghetto it is, or the hour every night spent finding a place to sleep. Waking up in lay-by’s and carparks day after day, week after week, is not something to savour.

It isn’t glamorous, and there are times when I sit on the grass in the morning, looking at the bike with resentment. Why did I sign up for this?

In retrospect I’ll look back on this as ‘living the dream’, for sure. There are times now that I look back on with such fondness. It’s been one of the best periods of my life. No doubt. A bike ride across a continent and a trip that has brought me together with people who I’ve looked up to and taken inspiration from for years. Pinch-me, how-on-earth-did-this-happen moments.

But it can be so draining, demoralising and depressing, even when you’re in the most amazing areas. And there’s times when I think about those emails and think, it should be them doing this, not me. I’m a fraud and they’re not. They’d wake up stoked about pedaling all day, whereas I go through phases of waking up with dread. What’s the point in yet more days in the saddle? The tough parts are pedaling every day to get anywhere, and having to find a new place to sleep, dry out, wash and escape the rain, every single day. That quickly adds up.

I always looked at ‘adventurers’ with a hint of annoyance. They’d use terms like ‘quest’ and publish ‘memoirs’ about their time away. It would often hum of pretension and schmuck, and in more-than-a-few cases I got the feeling that their adventures were more about public speaking gigs than the actual experience. Even now, when somebody refers to themselves as an adventurer it makes me shudder. I’d read the blogs, and just didn’t buy it. Wasn’t this just hyperbole designed to appeal to a reality TV audience who didn’t know any better?

They’d talk about how mentally tough it had been, and I’d think, hang on a minute, you’re rowing across an ocean in a boat with a Sat Phone and pinpoint navigation, all you do is row, it can’t be that hard. Get-bloody-on-with-it or stop complaining and quit if you don’t want to be there.

The real adventurers were those who operated under the radar – they’d sail to uncharted lands at a time before GPS, flares and helicopter rescue, or escape from a prisoner of war camp and walk for a year through the jungle, battling anacondas and avoiding the arrows of tribesmen. The explorers who fought pirates with swords. They were heroes, rather than self-branded, media-savvy “adventurers”. And they got on with it rather than purposefully trying to grow an audience by telling everyone how epic it was. I thought that in a modern and connected world, adventure was nearly impossible to find.

And then I set off on this trip and my opinion didn’t change. If anything it was reinforced for the first few months. It wasn’t hard. It was sore but never unbearable. You’re connected almost everywhere. And then after a while, slowly my opinion did start to change.

It’s not the physical side that makes a hardcore adventure. You don’t have to walk through the jungle for 18 months or fight pirates. It’s 100% mental and unique to each person. It’s the toll of time, not the toll on your body. Overcoming the demons that grow in your head and scream at you to stop. It’s like athleticism in that respect. It’s arduous. The best athletes are the ones who do their time, push through it and put in the 10,000 hours. Results don’t come from a single race. But committing to that time is an intimidating thing, even after nine months.

My subconcious constantly asks “what’s the point of what you’re doing?” It’s ignoring that question, or trying to answer it, that’s challenging. It’s keeping going.

It’s this weird way of life where nothing is moderate. It’s great or it’s shit. Rarely it’s in between. Honestly, there’s no place I’d rather be most of the time. I feel a sick and twisted attraction to the mental game. But at the same time, sometimes it’s the polar opposite of enjoyable. That’s strange and full of hypocrisies, I know, but it seems to be the curse of movement, the road, and living a stripped down life that at the moment is literally strapped to a set of wheels. There are no sides – I love it and hate it at the same time.

This project has totally changed how I view adventure – it is real. And if it is mental, then this is most certainly a really wild adventure. But it’s still not a quest, ok?

Categories
Adventure Interviews

Vague Direction People: Leon Logothetis

Amazing Adventures of a Nobody is the creation of Leon Logothetis. He starts the day with 5 quid / dollars / euros, and travels across the UK / US / Europe making a documentary along the way. That cash has to cover food, accommodation and transport – and inevitably such a challenge has put Leon into some quite bizarre, sometimes scary and often inspiring situations which shine a light on the kindness of strangers. It’s a great watch and in each series there’s some hilarious moments. Also, I’ve just found out that in literally a few hours, he’s embarking on a new adventure called Kindness One which involves a round the world motorcycle ride, a very brightly coloured motorbike and a sidecar.

Ages ago now, I chatted with Leon back in California about his shift from his secure life as a broker in The City, the catalyst for change, dealing with risk and his Amazing Adventures project.

Categories
Adventure Bicycle Travel

255 – 270: Whitehorse, YT to Fort Nelson, BC

There’s been a lot of road days and momentum since the last trip update, so here’s some highlights from the last 15 days on the road.

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260: Whitehorse

It took about 4 days of being holed up in Whitehorse, focusing on RICE (or more specifically RI). But it worked! Seemed like my knee might be okay again. I was pretty keen that the first day leaving Whitehorse was a light one. Not too much strain and just a test more than anything else. Well that plan was quickly demolished – leaving Whitehorse involves climbing a massively steep hill for a couple of miles. Pedalling started as being cautious – push hard with the left, and quickly spin round with the right – but when it was obvious that the knee issues weren’t a problem, that soon became pushing hard on both legs. It’s an amazing day to be on the road and it was great to be moving. HOT. The mosquitos seem to have changed to dense clouds of midges but move fast enough and they’re not a problem.

261: Nr Jakes Corner

Woke up in a rest stop near Jakes Corner, the tent getting blasted by the sun. Take yesterdays heat and multiply it. Hottest day so far and it’s barely 9am. Woke up to a water bottle that had leaked, and there was nothing for another 70km, so I waited for just a few minutes until a couple of German tourists pulled in to the rest stop in a ginormous RV stocked with plenty of water. Haben sie wasser? Take that GCSE German. Can’t remember being so delighted to see refrigerated water.

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Ride went well. Bursts of wind made for quick patches of cool instant relief. I’ve started using milepost.com, which is a really awesome resource and comes in handy on these remote stretches of roads. Mainly for telling you when gas stations etc are located, but also it tells you about what significance some of the landmarks along the way have. Today involved crossing the Teslin River Bridge, which turns out to be the third longest spanning bridge on the highway. Crossing that river soon led to a stretch of road that traversed the side of Teslin Lake. Kinda reminded me of that phrase ‘Water water everywhere but not a drop to drink’. I had loads of drinking water but by now it was as though it’d been in the microwave – so cycling past this lake brought obvious thoughts – jumping in it. For ages there was nowhere to get close to the water, until a curve in the road brought firsts sight of a pebble beach and a track to the water. Three hours of escaping the midday heat was amazing.

265: Watson Lake

The most unusual day for a while. So it’s been blisteringly hot for a long stretch – since Whitehorse. The blue skies have shown no signs of changing. I left Watson Lake in the morning and the bike was playing up – nothing new there. This time the chain was skipping like a mad person. Think it’s a worn out cassette. Every half stroke and skip, skip, skip. Some adjustments later and three gears were okay. 3 out of 27 isn’t great, but there was enough range in those three gears to cover up, down and flat. Just like a fancy fixie really. In hindsight I’ve been totally naive about this highway when it comes to mechanical stuff – there are no bikeshops. Get a broken bike out here and unless you can fix / bodge it yourself – you won’t have a rideable bike. This is the only section of road where I would recommend carrying ample spares – a tyre, 3-4 tubes, loads of patch kits, a chain, spokes. Oops.

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Ignoring the sudden lack of gears, soon outside Watson Lake is this place called ‘Lucky Lake’ – I wasn’t aware of it, but the sign posts said that it was a ‘recreational community water park’. Well it was hot – so any excuse really. WOAH. This was probably the nicest swimming spot so far. Sandy beach next to a warm and clear lake – with a floating platform about 50 metres out. Lucky. I swam out and dived around a bit, in the scorching sun. An hour or so later, the rumbles began. Big roars of thunder. I hadn’t even noticed but looking up now the sky was DARK. You know just before it storms sometimes it gets weirdly cold? That was happening. There were a few other parties there too – young families on vacation – and all of a sudden after the first roar, everyone was quick to pack up their things and leave in a hurry. I did the same but rather than having an RV to retreat to, figured I’d try to just pedal on before the looming rain began. That was a mistake.

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Less than a kilometer away from ‘Lucky’, the sky opened. And I really mean opened – like nothing I’ve ever witnessed before. First started the rain. A few heavy drops on my shoulder initially teased. Then a raging downpour of the biggest rain imaginable. There really was nowhere to hide, so it was mostly a case of hood up, head down, try and get somewhere where there was some kind of shelter. And then the rain turned to MARBLE sized hail. Big chunks of ice falling out of the sky. After about a minute the road was covered – just minutes ago the surface was dry. Now it was white with these blocks of hail covering everything in sight. It was the kind of hail that is amusingly painful – imagine someone constantly prodding you, or someone shooting paintballs at you and you’d be close. And then the lightning started to happen. It happened in Louisiana too – being on the road in the pouring rain whilst there’s lightning. Every time it’s quite a scary experience. About 50 metres to each side of the road is dense forest, but that leaves a 100 metre section of openness in between the trees. A wet human being on a metal bike in that openness probably isn’t a great idea. Your heartbeat definitely gets faster. And then, as though a sign, there was a, erm, sign. Rest stop 1km ahead. A rest stop can sometimes mean just a gravel turnout (i.e. not much better than where I was), but sometimes it can mean a proper reststop with restroom buildings. YES. Two tiny concrete washrooms just about big enough to cram a bike into. And an escape from the craziness outside. (There’s video footage of this happening which I’ll try to edit together soon.)

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267: Laird Hot Springs

Go here. Honestly, if you’re in the area, do it. It’s a bizarre paradise. You arrive and it just looks like an RV park & campsite in the sticks. And then you see the start of the boardwalk. A 5 minute walk later and the boardwalk opens onto a tropical blue pool, with steam floating off the surface. Put your toe in initially and you’d be forgiven for thinking that the other visitors had special heat resistant skin or something, because it does initially feel as though you’re stepping into a kettle. I had a great time here, one of the best days for a long time. There were a bunch of ace characters at the first pool. The second deeper pool was closed off because a griz had booked it out.

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By chance I met Kelen and Yeren from Madrid who had been teaching in Canada for 2 years and were taking one last road trip vacation before heading back to Spain again. It’s easy to see a place and meet people and talk about how friendly and ‘nice’ everyone is, but being honest, the last few towns haven’t been like that – maybe there’s something in the water but in Watson Lake for example, there was about 2 nice people, and the rest that I had dealings with were the opposite of that. Kelen and Yeren had similar experiences in Watson Lake too – a local vs tourist thing maybe. They were super cool and had similar interests, so it was fun just to hang out.

From Laird Hotsprings there has been more mechanical issues including a split rear tyre, bursting tubes (valves ripping right off) and more – it’s been a bit of an epic being on the road over the last fortnight, a fun one mind, but finally in Fort Nelson there was a (semi)bikeshop so maybe the mechanical issues will stay quiet for a while. I’ve never done anything that destroys gear as much as cycle touring – my advice if you’re ever thinking about doing this is to get rugged and decent gear, strength over weight for sure, especially bike parts because it’s hard to avoid putting every single part through a ton of abuse and you need stuff that can stand up to it.

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Results of the comp are in. Congrats to Kevin (US), Bastab (India) and Nigel (UK) who won Premium accounts, and Shannon, Keith and Tim who won some funky new T-shirts. Thanks to the wonderful Dora – mayor of Cape Charles, VA & Misslette The Singing Cowgirl from Texas for taking the time to choose.