Arriving: La Paz, Bolivia. 8th Nov 2012

First impressions:

Arriving at 2.30am in a foreign city, in a foreign country, on a foreign continent, we were glad of our pre-arranged taxi to take us to our pre-arranged 'homestay'. Georges the taxi driver managed to cram our bikes and bags into his taxi, before carefully spreading a blanket over each of or laps. A welcome gesture, even though, inspite of wearing shorts, it was not cold at all.

The airport is at over 4,000mts. That is high. La Paz itself drops to a more reasonable 3,610mts down a deserted multi-lane highway. A slight mist hangs in the air, outlining occasional almost mythical characters seemingly sweeping the streets. They are clad in garish clothes including a balaclava of some sort and appear to be 4' tall, like an extra on a Star Wars movie. Given the scale of the roads and the traditional brush their task is clearly impossible. I would have taken a photograph were it not for the sudden swerves Georges had to take to avoid the large potholes - sporadic, but way too large to ignore.

My first thought was of India, but without the masses. The crumbling buildings, extrovert wiring tangled at all heights like so many Gordian Knots, and the generally 'worn out and knackered' air was India all over. I immediately had a crush on La Paz.

Georges drove down through the city center, much more dilapidated than I expected before landing. Then we there, our host Pamela waiting at the kerbside to welcome us and get us settled. After three international flights, 24hours of travelling, and fears our bikes would not travel with us, we had arrived.

La Paz, Bolivia. Welcome to South America!



 

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El Salvador airport, Wednesday 7th November 2012

Backtrack to 7th Nov.

There I was having a nice little kip, waiting in El Salvador airportfor our onward flight to Bolivia, when I was rudely shaken awake. (Editor; there is probably no 'politely shaken awake').

Instead of Sarah doing the shaking, I awoke to the very large settee I was enjoying shaking and the advertising displays wobbling. Others, including airport staff, jumped to their feet and made their way to the main corridor. Then I realised the actual concrete structure of the whole building was visibly quaking. Not even Sarah can achieve that level of energy, not even on a bad day. Eureka - it was an earthquake.

It transpired that it was actually in nearby Guatemala, measuring 7.5 on the Richter scale. I have always wanted to be in a 'proper' earthquake, and I was not disappointed. It was impressive, but not at all scary in my particular situation.

Until recently I did not realise that a one point increase on the Richter scale is a thousandfold increase in an earthquakes energy.

I am more than happy with my experience of a semi-distant 7.5 quake. That is quite enough, thankyou. Another experience ticked off my list. I suspect I may go through some more before returning home.....

 

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A final, simple thought on the USA.

There is one characteristic about the USA which really impressed itself upon me on this trip.

We travelled through an incredible variety of landscapes, industrial, rural, old- school and high tech, through a myriad national backgrounds embodied in its populous - and all this within arguably the most conservative of their regions.

Some of these communities are so far apart geographically that they may as well be in a different country. And geography and climate shape people as surely as the Colorado river shaped the Grand Canyon.

And yet despite all the obvious differences and problems (and they are legion) 'they' still remain -

--- a United States of America.

And that seems almost inexplicable, and admirable, to me.

And with this post I have chosen the below photo. It is of a bunch of neighbours on the road to LA who decided to have a chilli cook-off. They had originally envisaged a big organised affair in the park, but in the end opted to set up at the side of the road outside their homes and call out to passers-by, inviting them to be the judge of their efforts.

(I voted for number two, the vegan chilli). I hope they let me know who won.......

 

 

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Between 13th October and the 7th November....

(Editor; warning, boring post alert).

Well, we did not quite get to Mexico.

But we did go rafting down a short section of the Colorado river,

below the surprisingly beautiful Glen Canyon dam.

Our guide was LaToyah, one of the 200,000 Navaho who live in that area of the southwest. When I asked her, she said she was an American, but that she came from the Navaho. Pretty obvious, really.

 

We then headed further south through Flagstaff and as far as Prescott (Both worth visiting, especially the latter).

After that we headed north west to the Californian coast hitting it at Carmel (One of Sarah's favourites), then headed south down the coast. It was good to 'be beside the seaside' once more after being landlocked for so long.

A note of sadness: the large, long haired, long bearded owner of the Iron Maiden Pub (at Point Sur) and true Maiden fan has sold up.

The Maiden ( as it is now known) remains, the beer is still good, the list of beers impressive, but the ol' guy is missing. I mourn his passing.

We enjoyed a three night stop at Santa Barbara (Sarah's favourite) - which included a 'very lively' halloween night at The Brew House. (The yanks really make a party of halloween, admirable considering it was mid-week) - before reaching LA along the coast.

 

On the 7th Nov we flew from LA and after three flights via San Salvador (and an earthquake) and Peru, into La Paz, Bolivia.

And that, my friends, looks set to be another story entirely......

 

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Just how grand is The Grand Canyon? 12.10.12

Well, as it turns out, pretty darn grand.

Imagine the grandest thing you have ever seen. Then double it, add your age, multiply by the year England won the world cup (For those who can remember that far back. if not, contact Ralph Hare) and you may be getting close to how just how grand the 'GC' is.

 

 

 

 

It wasn't all sunshine and roses. Well, two days were, with the one in between a very snowy day. 50' visibilty, but still very magical. Actually, the conditions quickly became quite difficult, and we would have been 'uncomfortable' in such weather --- But we were not, because we had met up with friends from British Columbia, in two camper outfits, who did a sterling job becoming our support wagon. Thanks, Team BC!

Yes, our tent. It stood up remarkably well, and our sleeping bags did there job too.

"Yes, Gail, you can take one more photo. Take your time, the weather is lovely"

This is what 50' visilbilty looks like. Behind Team BC is an 11mile wide. 1 mile deep canyon. Trust me. I met a

gynaelcologist once.





(Yes, I know there are two similar shots, but Sarah likes trees).

And Team Bc in more clement times.

A times their behaviour was cause for concern.

 

But for me there was only one star of the show.

 

Don't let people tell you that "It all looks the same". Rather like a fine woman, different viewpoints provide very different perspectives, very different experiences.....

A member of Team BC checking it is still there.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I was mesmerised. The stats are only a whisper of the story infront of you - 6000' feet to the bottom, 11 miles across (The view in the large photo), a thousand foot difference between the north rim (the higher side) and the south rim. All just numbers, numbers, numbers.

There is something about becoming aware of that great big, simple, void. (Editor; sounds just like Fatboy Wallace).

That may not sound very glamourous, but trust me, looking down into that amount of defined, empty space? That is as glamourous a void as I have ever seen.

(I like this picture so much, I am going to show you it twice).

To be honest, I cannot imagine Old Mother Earth ever looking more radiant, more glamourous.

 

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What is so special about Alaska?

A good question from our reader, Maggie in Topsham.I shall try to answer it with a small episode that occurred a few weeks ago.

We were biking down what turned out to be a long hill on a hot day. We stopped beside a sag wagon supporting some bikers going up the hill, asking to use their track pump and gauge. The guy was very friendly, and also obliged with a couple of beers.

As I supped a cold ipa, a solo rider, Greg, biked up the hill and also pulled over. He soon had a cold beer in his hand. he turned out to be from Juneau and knew the people we had stayed with many months ago (Although not born an Alaskan, he has the spirit). A large chap he did not typify a touring cyclist.

The sag wagon people moved on, and Greg confessed that knowing the hill he had to go up he had stopped off at the bottom and bought not one, but two 24ozs beers 'to have when I get to the top'.

That is what makes Alaska special. The people.

 

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Zion National Park. 08.10.12

Zion National Park is our last stop before the Grand Canyon. With canyon walls 2000' above the snaking valley floor, it is often compared against Bryce - everyone had an opinion as to a winner.

In fact, the people we met all had a clear favourite out of the three parks - Bryce, Zion and the Grand Canyon. Interestingly, in our survey of the people we met there was no clear winner.

Which would you choose, on the basis of my very inadequate photographs?

 

 

We hiked to the top of Angels Landing, 1500' above the valley floor. Views from the top = stunning. Chance for vertigo = very high. Slips Sarah made on way down = none (unlike Mt Juneau).

'Look, there's the top, and I didn't slip once!"

 

 

Black and white photos are just like buses; you wait for one to come along and then two turn up.

 

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