Dang, Utah! The Planning.

Sometimes, things like pandemics and general community trauma lead to irrational thinking... and so at the onset of COVID 19, Ani and I were sure that it would all be over by October, and so we bought super cheap plane tickets to Morocco for a 3-week bike tour. As October grew closer and closer, we had to deal with the reality that it was probably not going to happen. And then it was mid-September, and our flights to Morocco were cancelled. 

If anything, we are resilient. So we pivoted and decided Morocco would happen another time and turned our gaze towards the dirt roads of Utah. We had one relatively unproductive (dang you brandy!) planning session, and then magically, we came together and put together what would become the adventure of a lifetime. 

PRO TIP #1: Gazetteers are my favorite to see vision a bike tour, know what the major attractions, and most of all, know what to Google to see if its worth it. I always piece together a rough version of what I think the tour should be (see yellow highlight), potential detours or Plan B/C/Ds (see pink highlight), and prospective overnights (see blue stickies). It's really just a suggestion until we know what is happening on the ground, but who doesn't love maps?!

And, it never quite goes as planned. While route below was close to what we had originally planned, we made some last minute changes to our route and plans... it's always so important to have just enough flexibility to follow a whim and a fancy! If you want the quick and dirty, the RidewithGPS map I put together is here.

PRO TIP #2: Bikepacking.com was the starting point for our dreaming, but we never let ourselves get stuck in their routes. We used a combination of various blog posts, our imagination, Google, Google images, and the dotted lines in the gazetteer to craft this route... and at the end of the day, opting for the dirt roads was always the right call. More to come!

Bike Overnight: Bend to Prineville via Crooked River Scenic Highway and Back Again

Bike touring has seen me through a LOT of life changes... in 2013, it helped me make the jump from being a corporate Washington DC attorney to being a vagrant world bike tourist to moving to Bend, Oregon and becoming a legal advocate for survivors of domestic violence and sexual assault. Then somehow in the midst of creating a new life for myself, I lost got a little off track. I went from having a flexible non-profit schedule with tons of vacation time to running a free legal assistance program in family law cases at the Deschutes County Circuit Court and found myself working in an office from 8 am - 5 pm. And while I was fulfilled by my work and found comfort in being able to make systemic changes from within, my soul started to wither in my windowless office.

Last year, I had the opportunity to join two friends and colleagues from the social justice world to found a diversity, equity, and inclusion consulting company. I was already constantly being asked to do this kind of work for free and so I jumped at the opportunity to change the dialogue around unpaid labor. Fast forward to 2020, and my life has shifted once again as profoundly as it did in 2013. We had barely incorporated and we had more business than we ever anticipated. I found myself working 80 hours a week and neglecting my bike as is evidenced by the fact that my last bike tour was in August of last year! After a miserable work-filled winter, I quit my day job with dreams of finding work life balance again and having time to do all the bike tours. I started making a list of long weekend getaways and my bike touring partner-in-crime and I bought tickets to Morocco...

And then all of my bike touring dreams started to crumble with COVID-19. But really, in the grand scheme of things, I have been incredibly lucky and privileged these last few months. My business is still thriving, I live in a beautiful place with lots of wide open spaces, the pandemic gave me some much needed breathing room, and I am in good health. Instead of far flung bike tours, I have been doing lots of beautiful exploratory day trips from town... some of those day trips would make amazing bike overnights, like this 100 mile self-supported route from Bend to Prineville and back again (on the map, it shows 97.2 miles, but I had about 2 miles each way to ride to and from the start).

Overlooking the Crooked River.

Ani (aka my bike touring partner-in-crime) zooms down the hill into the canyon.

Fleabane peeks out of rocky sandy soil.

The first paintbrush of the season is always special.

A few tips for cycle tourists:

• This route takes you on the Crooked River Scenic Bikeway, so there is a ton of information out there already.
• Be careful on Alfalfa Market Road especially on the weekends where you will be sharing with road with OHV folks. Some respectfully passed us and some made us feel a little unsafe. If I did this again, I would probably go in and out of Bend on Bear Creek.
• If you decide to ride this route going west out of Prineville, the crossing to get to the 126 on the west side of town is a bit hairy. There is a big shoulder, so once you are on the 126, there are a lot of fast moving cars, but it's not too bad and the turn off is right after the climb.
• Similarly, the short section on Highway 20 provides a huuuuge shoulder and it went by quickly with much less traffic than the 126.
• I had never ridden the backroads around Powell Butte and aside from the descent into the Crooked River Scenic Bikeway, that part was my favorite for the wide open views, smooth pavement, and zero traffic.

Wallowas Comedy of Errors

It's easy to paint life as one adventure to the next and skip over the hard stuff, the boring stuff, and the every day stuff. But that's not life, and as unglamorous as it may be, sometimes the best lessons in life comes from the moments in between each adventure. The day-to-day of work has been wearing on me more than I care to admit, and sometimes, I wonder if being "grown up" is worth it... but then I also struggle with what to do when I have too much time on my hands. David and I often talk about the hamster wheel of life and how to find balance in it all.

Summer is the time when I start to wear myself out with adventure after adventure. There is a pressure folks in this corner of the world put on themselves of needing to explore all the places and taking advantage of all the good weather, lest we somehow miss out on living. I'm beginning to realize that August should really just be my month of rest. It's too hot, too dry, too smoky, and more often than not, I'm nursing a neglected injury. This is exactly the time when I should be able to give myself permission to practice capoeira music, make art, and resurrect all the food projects I love. Fall will bring another frenzy of needing to get out just one last time before the snow flies.

But I digress, this all started when my big all ladies bikepacking trip to Montana got postponed due to the fires and smoke that blanketed Canada and basically everything west of Colorado. I was bummed. I had been looking forward to taking a break from work and gave up an opportunity to go backpacking to make sure I could be prepared for the trip. Rather than try to just power through the work week, I desperately checked the AQI maps for anywhere within a seven hour drive that had decent air. The Wallawas were pretty close to normal, so I hatched a last minute plan to do an overnight bikepacking trip and some dayhiking.

Oh beautiful blue skies! So much promise as I was driving out towards the Wallawas.

A quick stop at the adorable indie bookstore in Enterprise to grab a new book for the weekend since I had left my other book at home. A tiny rustic version of Dudley's, my hometown indie bookstore.

As I pulled onto Hurricane Creek road and the mountains came into view, I knew I had made the right decision. Blue skies and perfect dispersed camping greeted me as I popped open a beer and set up camp. I had the most glorious smoke-free afternoon and evening reading in my hammock and writing in my journal. Then I drifted off to sleep with the babbling creek as my gentle lullaby for a good night's sleep.

It doesn't get much better than this.

The next morning, everything that could go wrong, did go wrong. Well, except for breakfast. I had the loveliest breakfast by the creek. After I had loaded up all my gear, I started rolling down the road... and then it happened. Both of my tires slowly went flat. I tried to pump both of them, but the goo for my tubeless set up had dried and neither would hold air. I only had one spare tube, so I tried to asses my options. There was a small bike shop, I thought, in Joseph, but it was really just part of a hardware store and was not sure they could service a tubeless set up. The next nearest full service shop was in La Grande, over an hour away. Well, maybe I could day hike! Except that I had accidentally left my hiking shoes at home, so all I had were cycling shoes and flip flops.

What is wrong with this picture?

A closer inspection reveals dried up goo.

The final straw was looking back towards my mountain view that had been so clear the night before only to see that the smoke was back and obscured my views. I sat down for a bit to think about my options. Even if I did get my bike fixed, did I really want to bike through the smoke? The air quality deteriorated drastically as I sat in camp and I decided it wasn't too late to head home and have a staycation. I had dozens of little things on my "to do" list that had fallen by the wayside in the bustle of summer, and when was the last time I had over 3 days at home with no plans?

It was decided, I would save my longs and head home. By the time I packed up and left, the air quality was hazardous and I felt lucky not to be biking in that. Sure, I could chase the green dots on the AQI map in the valley, but with no functional bike and no hiking shoes, there wasn't much to do anyway.

Same view from my campsite, where did the mountain go?

On my way out... ick.

When I got back home, the smoke was thicker in the air than when I left. For the first time this summer, I actually put all of my gear away into my gear tubs instead of leaving it half staged for a last minute trip. My cupboards have been cleaned and re-organized, homemade hot sauce made, sprouts started, art projects are swirling in my mind, and I've set everything up to do my fall planting in my garden. As always, in the back of my head is a scheme for another time, a bike tour in this area... 

Getting Through A Not-So-Long Winter... And Introducing, Kung Fu Panda

Last winter was a harsh battle against endless snow and bikes were stored in sheds never to see the light of day. This fall, I braced myself for another long dark winter, which included splurging on huge studded snow tires for the Tank (who has since been reborn as The Abominable Snow Tank). No more cross country skiing to work, I would ride my bike this winter. Much to my joy, and sometimes chagrin because studded bike tires were overkill this year, the pendulum swung the other way. We had just a few days when the snow stuck and there was not a single day I couldn't ride my bike.

With the weather warming up, explorations east to the Alvord Desert on the far side of Steens Mountain called for bikes. We relished crisp mornings in the Alvord Hot Springs and tooled around the pristine gravel roads and explored every inch of the playa. My mind raced at night as the stars twinkled at us about putting together a dirt road bike tour here...

Leaving the van behind to ride to the Pike Creek trailhead for a lovely hike up Steens Mountain.

Tooling around the playa is an otherworldly experience.

In other news, I made a life changing decision this year. I decided it was time to retire the Tank from her status as my "go to" touring bike. She was built to be indestructible in far off lands, but I often found myself wanting a more nimble setup for exploring the Pacific NW. Once her transformation to The Abominable Snow Tank was complete, I could not imagine her being anything other than my winter commuter. And so, with the help of the amazing bike mechanic Tory Sox from Bend Velo, I started building a custom gravel bike. Originally, I had started the build from a Surley Straggler frame and fork, but Surly launched a new gravel bike called the Midnight Special which made even more sense... more stable, slighter better geometry for my midget self, and more options for upgrades later. So I made a last minute crazy switch, praying that my custom frame bag would fit the new frame.

Behold, I call her Kung Fu Panda... in addition to the Rogue Panda custom Cascadia frame bag, it will include two small Ortliebs up front, a Rogue Panda seat pack, a Rogue Panda top tube bag, two Revelate Designs feedbags, and a Revelate Designs harness. 

Mother Nature can be cruel. We had a number of fronts come in dumping regular snow and rain on us right after my bike was done, so I haven't been able to properly test out Kung Fu Panda. But that hasn't stopped me from scheming! There's been a lot of local bike touring momentum coming out of the Central Oregon Adventure Cycling group that I started last year, and slowly but surely, we are connecting with each other and growing.

Ecuador: Post-Trip Ramblings

I've been back for about six weeks now and I still dream of Ecuador.  I wonder if the rains have come and if my lonely orange pannier made it downriver.  I wonder if a farmer found it, opened it, and the $150+ made his or her day.  I hope that it made a difference and that they have hung my hammock up somewhere with a nice view.

The Ecuadoran Andes will always hold a special place in my heart.  These mountains are a special place, especially once you get off the beaten path.  Prior to the trip, I had read mixed reviews about other bike tourists who had passed through Ecuador.  Those that stuck to the PanAmerican highway had less than stellar things to say.  Those that wandered the dirt roads fell in a special kind of love with Ecuador.

And in no particular order, for those that follow by bicycle, the things I learned:

• I felt really safe in Ecuador.  Surprisingly safe.  Safer than cycling the back roads of the U.S. safe.  The people here are warm, welcoming, and curious.  

• Speaking Spanish can open up Ecuador to bike tourists in a special way.  

• Hands down the best resource for dirt road touring in Ecuador is Cass Gilbert's blog.  He has returned many times to bike tour Ecuador with setups ranging from traditional to bikepacking.  Some trips have been with other hardcore bikepackers, others solo, and others with his wife and adorable tiny child.  He was my primary inspiration for this trip.  Since returning to the U.S., he has published two different versions of the Trans Ecuador Mountain Bike Route, one connecting mostly non-technical dirt roads (some of which we covered) and one more demanding singletrack hike-a-bike version.

• While I love paper maps, there are none that have enough detail for bike touring unless you plan to stick to the PanAmerican highway.  I still recommend the ITM Canada Ecuador map to get a great overview of the country and for bigger picture planning and dreaming.  The National Geographic Ecuador map was not nearly as detailed or easy to use.

• We did not use a traditional GPS.  Between all of our phones and some back up chargers, we were able to get by using Maps.ME, an crowdsourced offline map application that is available for both Android and iPhone.  There is a bicycle route option (which I understand is fairly new).  While it does not provide an elevation profile like Pocket Earth for iPhone, it was incredibly accurate and proved to be indispensable on our trip.  Not only could we calculate a route, we could either just reference the route, or have it navigate turn-by-turn (particularly helpful getting out of an into big cities).  

• For those on a budget, the set breakfasts (desayuno), lunches (almuerzo), and dinners (merienda) have the most bang for the buck.  They usually cost between $2-$4 and come with fresh juice, soup, a main dish with two or three sides, and a dessert. 

• For those who like to cook in camp, just know that white gas is almost impossible to find in Ecuador, propane can only be found in mountaineering stores and companies, and that denatured alcohol is pretty common.  Denatured alcohol in Ecuador is called alcohol industrial and sometimes you just have to ask at the counter of a hardware store for it.  

• My list of "must bike through" places for bike tourists: Cotopaxi National Park, the Quilotoa Loop, Cajas National Park.  I felt like I could have skipped the coast and been happy, but that descent out of the Andes was crazy awesome.

• If you are on dirt roads, cut your daily expected mileage in half... or maybe even a little less.  All of us are experienced cyclists and we all had to push our bikes more than expected.  The Andes are steeeeeep.  Some days we only made it 20 miles, especially when we hit cobblestone!  Of course, it's always worth it in my book.  

• When the going got tough or we needed to make up some time for our return flight, pickup truck taxis were abundant and we never really had a problem getting our bikes on buses.  We preferred to find a bus that was originating from where we were grabbing the bus to be able to get our bikes on board a little more calmly.  When they connect through, it's always a mad dash.  I liked using compression straps to affix my bike to a strut in the baggage compartment.  Luckily, my bike was small enough to always fit with just the front wheel taken off.  Larger bikes may need both wheels to come off.  It was incredibly inconsistent with respect to paying an additional fee to bring the bikes on a bus.  Half the time it was free.  Half the time we got an arbitrary fee.  Most folks just buy their ticket when they arrive at the bus station, but for our longer rides, the bus always sold out, so we either got there super early or bought our ticket the day before. 

• If truck drivers and car drivers stick their hand out the window with their palm up and kind of shake it back and forth, it means "you have balls!" and is a friendly gesture.

UPDATE: I just got notice that my travel insurance through World Nomads is going to cover the loss of my pannier!  $262 coming my way.  The process of submitting a claim was a long one, but totally worth it!

The "Problem" With Wanderlust (aka Mental Health Break 2017)

I was thinking the other day about my childhood and how I got to be where I am today... scheming about applying for a scholarship to bikepack the 1700 mile Baja Divide.

I was mail-ordered by a nice American family from South Korea when I was nearly 2 years old.  I don't actually know how old I am because I wasn't born in a hospital and I'm not entirely sure how I ended up at the orphanage in Seoul.  All I know is that I was born in Pusan.  My family struggled sometimes growing up, but I don't think I even realized that until I was older.  Most of my clothes were thrift store finds and vacations were spent running amuck in my neighborhood rather than traveling afar.  I don't ever remember being hungry, but I do remember learning how my mother would throw together meals from the bits and ends in the fridge to make sure we didn't waste any food.  We snuck snacks into the movie theater so we wouldn't have to pay the exorbitant prices.  Family dinner happened every night and was cooked by my mother.  Arby's would have a 5 for $5 deal on roast beef sandwiches and we would bring them home for our family of five instead of going out to eat.  Kids in my neighborhood went to college nearby, married their high school sweethearts, and moved back close to home to be near their parents.  Welcome to middle class midwest America.  Bill Bryson would have loved to do a portrait of our family.

Ermerghaaaaa! So cute. I still look EXACTLY the same.

Somewhere in all that normalcy, I felt out of place... maybe because I was a Korean adoptee in a white community, or maybe because I could sense there was more to life than what media told us we should care about.  Much of my youth was spent exploring the fringes, reading philosophy, drawing, writing depressing poetry, playing chess in coffee shops, and smoking cigarettes.  My mother taught ESL and was more worldly than most in our small Michigan community.  All I knew was I needed to leave and see the world.  So I studied Spanish in high school, got a degree international affairs in college, somehow found myself in law school, and spent most of my time trying to afford plane tickets to anywhere but here.  

My late-20s were a blur of 80 hour work weeks and desperately trying to balance my stark office life by throwing myself over waterfalls in rafts, jumping out of airplanes, dancing salsa until the wee hours of the morning, biking until my legs gave up, and hiking into the middle of nowhere.  

Fast forward to today.  I'm in my mid-30s living in Bend, Oregon having left behind the corporate life to bike the world and otherwise find my place in the mountains and remote corners of the world.  Interestingly, the simple yet rich life I live is possible on my non-profit salary because of skills I learned in my youth... no food left wasted, foraging local fruit and mushrooms, cooking all my meals from scratch, exploring the mountains in my backyard...  I dance the fine line between satiating my "looks good on paper former lawyer" self, my "holy crap how am I not dead outdoors junkie" self, and my relatively new "fist-shaking social activist domestic violence advocate" self.  I will be the first to admit that I lead a privileged life.  Yes, I made decisions that allowed me to live life on my own terms, but I also was raised by a supportive family that instilled a quiet confidence in me that I could do whatever I set my mind to.  I'm not sure they understand why I do what I do, but they trust that it's making me happy and that's all they care about.

So much better than working on weekends...

It's been about three years since I came back from my bike tour across Mexico.  I've settled into my new life in Bend working at my local domestic violence and sexual assault organization as the bilingual advocate.  I don't talk much about my personal experience being a survivor of domestic violence, but lately, I've been realizing that I don't serve this world much if I stay silent.  As a survivor, the most rewarding part of my work is empowering other survivors.  As a recovering attorney, I relish the proactive self-care policy of my non-profit organization.  I only work 35 hours a week and get more vacation than I know what to do with.  Lately, I have been feeling burned out... not by the survivors I work with, but by the systems I have to fight every day and vicarious trauma is a real thing.  I know that I need to press the reset button and have been struggling to figure out what that is, where to do, and when. 

That's when my roommate and good friend Stuart forwarded me the link to the Baja Divide route.  I had this on my radar because I really like to read about the adventures of Lael Wilcox, one of the badass amazing female cyclists out there.  She is truly an inspiration to explore outside the lines.  I didn't actually go to the website until one evening when I was feeling particularly gloomy about the state of human respect and dignity.  Stuart was on a post-bike tour melancholic low.  And then I saw it.  The scholarship.  A free bike, free gear, and $1000 to fund a woman to ride the Baja Divide.  I ran to my room and pulled out my Baja maps and books and that giddy feeling in the pit of my stomach was born.  "Stu!"  I yelled.  "Stuuuuuu."  I showed him the website for the scholarship.  "Dude," he said, "this is you."  After pouring over the website with a few sips of whiskey, we shook on it.  I would apply and if I got it, Stuart would come with me to bike the Baja Divide.

I left these for Stuart to peruse so he couldn't refuse...

It has been far too long since I was this excited about something.  Maybe I had this to a small degree when I was preparing for the Idaho Hot Springs route.  Who knows.  The stars feel like they are aligning.  My boss, who is a like a den mother to our staff, saw the scholarship and said "of course, this is you."  She also already approved two months off for me to do this... just in case.  That's how much confidence she has.  So here's to making this happen!

Post-Trip Ramblings: The Idaho Hot Springs Tour Edition

We woke up obscenely early most likely because we passed out early the night before from our afternoon of drinking at the Dirty Shame.  Ryan had a 6 hour drive back to Bend, but I decided to take my time in the morning to have coffee and breakfast over at Wild Bill's and then head north via Hells Canyon to my parents' house in Tri-Cities.  It felt good to come full circle since we started our tour at Wild Bill's.  A bunch of wildfire fire fighters were there having breakfast... turns out there was a fire on Highway 55 south of Crouch, which is the primary way to get from Boise to this area and a bunch of people got stuck trying to go home.  As I waited for my food, I saw that the 100+ degree weather was supposed to continue for the next week, and although I was sad that the tour had been cut a few days short, it was a silver lining knowing that I wouldn't have to bike in that weather.  Since I had some extra time, I decided to make a stop at Palouse Falls State Park on the way.  It was blazing hot so I only explored for a very short period of time, but it was worth it!

Scenic views of Hells Canyon recreation area.

Nez Perce national wilderness area... I recalled the old stories of the Nez Perce as I marveled at the stark landscape.

Stunning and unexpected in the middle of southeastern Washington state.

Views down the canyon.

I stalked this momma and her not-so-little offspring for a bit before leaving.

In no particular order, there are some things I think are important to know for anyone who is planning on doing this tour this year or in the future:

• Bring a bathing suit for the hot springs and rivers.  While many hot springs in Oregon are clothing optional, many hot springs in Idaho are bathing suit mandatory.  I did not see a single nude person at the hot springs, though I may or may not have skinny dipped in a river or two.

• Ryan severely underestimated his cycling fitness for this tour despite the fact that he (a) mountain bikes on occasion and (b) has done lengthy bike tours before.  It wasn't that he was unable to do this tour, but he really struggled on the climbs.  Rule #1 in Zombieland?  Cardio.  We saw some other folks on the road who had no idea what they were getting themselves into and looked pretty miserable on the road.

• Although I understand that it was about 10-15 degrees hotter than normal, the weather in this part of Idaho is extremely variable, but it is mostly hot.  Really really really hot.  If you idealize this tour as partaking in all the hot springs, you are sorely mistaken.  The rivers, though, are also awesome.

• We really struggled with knowing when and where water sources would present themselves.  While most of the campgrounds identified on the ACA maps had pumps, not all of the did.  When we had wifi or cell phone access, we tried to research which campgrounds had pumps so we could plan accordingly.   It was also hard to decipher on the map whether or not we would be able to access the river to filter water (bring a reliable water filter... my personal favorite because it is so lightweight is the mini Sawyer).  While much of this route follows rivers, sometimes there are 20 foot steep banks (cliffs, really) which would make it impossible to get to the water.  I hope in future editions that the water sources are marked -- one icon for a pump or spigot and one icon for river access for filtering water.  We sometimes carried enough water for 2 days just in case because we couldn't reliably tell. 

• If you come from a traditional road touring background, just know that you should cut your average daily road miles in half to get a safe estimate for how much distance you will cover on dirt.  We were aiming for 42 miles a day on average.  We had days we biked anything from 28 miles to 75 miles (which included pavement sections). 

• There is cell phone service for much of the corridor between Cascade and McCall, in Ketchum, and in Stanley.  Everywhere else is fairly off grid.  Crouch and Twin Springs Resort both have publicly available wifi at the various establishments. 

• I used PocketEarth on my iPhone with an external battery to have an offline GPS and imported the GPX files from ACA.  I used it mostly to doublecheck our route and didn't keep it on the whole time to save battery.  This saved our butts a couple times and I highly recommend having a GPS for this tour, as some of the dirt road intersections are unmarked or confusing.  It is also very helpful in finding the various points of interests and hot springs, which are not signed many of the times.  Ryan had a bike computer to be able to follow the cue sheet.  These two combined were the minimum needed for this tour.

• We were told that may folks do this tour clockwise, and I think it's because there may be less total climbing that way.  We did it counterclockwise because the ACA map made it seem like that was the logical way to do it.  Regardless, if you don't like climbing, you are going to hate this route.  

• Parking cars in Cascade and Crouch gave us a multitude of emergency bailout options via the Lohman cutoff and Warm Springs road and I would do it again like that in the future.  Starting in Crouch also made Ketchum, the biggest town with the most amenities, around the halfway point-ish, which made us appreciate it more.

• When in doubt, take less gear if you are used to fully loaded touring.  The climbs are brutal with the extra weight and then factor in food and water for 2 days sometimes and... yea.  I have certain luxuries like a hammock I like to have, but I wore the same clothes the entire time and otherwise didn't carry many extraneous items.  Whatever you do, don't skimp on your repair kit.  Dirt road touring is tough on bikes.  Ryan broke his chain and lost a bolt on his rack.  Luckily we were able to repair both from my repair kit.  We were lucky and zero flats!  There are very few bike shops on the route, so prepare to be fairly self-sufficient.  

• Fire season is here early this year.  Use this resource before your trip if you travel mid to late season to see if a wildfire will affect your route: http://inciweb.nwcg.gov/state/13/. 

• If you go early season, check to make sure all the mountain passes are open here: http://www.wcc.nrcs.usda.gov/snow/. 

Aaaaaanyway, my final words are to just go!  There wasn't a single terrible view or a climb that wasn't worth it.  There wasn't a single ugly river or moment when I regretted this tour.  In fact, I can't wait to come back and finish that little bit of the upper loop I didn't get to do this time... maybe in September, maybe next year, maybe I'll do whole thing again!

A Walk Down Memory Lane

Even though I rarely make resolutions at the New Year, I always take time to reflect on the year.  2013 was certainly a doozy but will always mark the year that all the hard work finally paid off.  I quit my BigLaw job, I sold all my earthly possessions, I drove cross-county and down the coast, I biked from San Diego to Cancun, I moved to Bend Oregon, I got my dream non-profit job at Saving Grace, and I find myself disgustingly content with the simplicity of life.  That's a lot of "I"s in a sentence, but these are all accomplishments that I can look back on and say that yes "I" made it happen.

So to commemorate this landmark year,  I made chilquiles rojos from scratch (chips and all!) for my New Years Day dinner.

NOM.  I did not earn this by biking.

It also turns out that my cycling partner finally got the first installment of his photos edited on New Years Day.  Unlike myself, Gonzalo actually takes the time to piece together beautiful panoramas and manually edit each of his photos.  His design background is evident in the composition and quality of his photography.  To see his full Baja California album, go HERE!  I've put a few of my favorites for you lazy bums who don't want to click through.

The vastness of the Baja California desert is beautiful (photo credit: Gonzalo).

Dirt road detour to get into and out of town (photo credit: Gonzalo).

Desert colors (photo credit: Gonzalo).

Bombing down the Cuesta del Infierno (photo credit; Gonzalo).

In other news, the wonderful thing about my new job is the completely reasonable 35-hour work week, flexible work schedule, and huge amounts of vacation that I'm able to accrue.  I'm already scheming weekend bikepacking trips...

A Few Reflections And The Mexico Cycling Map

So of course, like any normal person, I decided I needed to take a vacation from my vacation after my vacation, so my time has been split between "chilling out" in Seattle (aka car shopping, mountain bike shopping, and planning trips to Oregon, Washington DC, and Moab) and a whirlwind trip to the Tuolumne Meadows side of Yosemite National Park, fires be damned.

Sometimes its worth exploring your own backyard.

Sunset views of the fire.

Yup, and that's why we go to Yosemite.

I could spend hours carefully crafting some deep thoughts about bike touring and life, the universe, and everything, but there's too much going on and too much to look forward to for me to sit in front of this computer for too long.

So in no particular order, some thoughts and random factoids about this trip:

• My handsome steed's tires survived without a single flat!

• I lost a total of 12 pounds, though, I'm guessing I lost closer to 15 pounds of fat and put back on 3 pounds of muscle.  This was more than 10% of my weight and I had a very hard time keeping the weight on during this trip, sometimes forcing myself to eat even when I wasn't hungry.  I suffered athletic amenorrhea for the entire duration of the trip and am currently trying to put on some lean muscle to remedy this, though my metabolism is still on overdrive

• I already miss the vast amounts of affordable fruit in Mexico, but I'm so happy to have a real selection of vegetables and red wine again.

• Some questions I would ask a future cycling partner that I did not think to ask this time would include ones about sleeping patterns (or, are you an early riser, a mid-day napper, etc.), ones about social tendencies (or, are you an introvert, an extrovert, a mix), and ones about cycling style (or, do you prefer to just crush out the miles and have extended stops, or cycle more leisurely with many short stops).

• Recently, someone asked me what my big takeaway from this trip was.  My answer was that it was the best "palette cleanser" ever from my years working in BigLaw.  But really, it was more than that.  It was a way for me to actively think about what it is I want out of life... all those hours on the bike let you talk yourself in circles until maybe, just maybe, you arrive to a point.

• It feels so good to be connected with my friends and family again... within days of my return, schemes of epic road trips, mountain bike festivals, and wedding shenanigans came my way.  I feel more strongly than ever that life is about people, not just adventure for the sake of adventure. 

• Surprisingly, I don't miss the bike tour... not yet at least.  Maybe it's because I have so many exciting plans on the horizon, including a bikepacking trip of White Rim Road in Canyonlands, but I feel like I'm home.

• Unsurprisingly, I'm scheming my next bike tour already... Ecuador, Peru, Bolivia?  Great Divide?  The possibilities are endless and I'm stoked.

This is a map of approximately where I bike  in Mexico.  It may not be exact at times if a dirt road was not recognized by Googlina or I just didn't double-check the GPS track (if you want the GPS track, please send me a message and I'll bug my cycling partner for it).

PART I


View The Kung Fu Cycling Map in a larger map


PART II


View The Kung Fu Cycling Map in a larger map

Day 81: Big Trip Decisions And Going Lightweight

When I first planned this trip, I was trapped in my BigLaw job with a mere glimmer of light at the end of my proverbial student loan debt tunnel.  I dreamt big to give meaning to the day-to-day grind of living on a strict budget.  And then one day, I found myself nervously pedaling towards Tijuana, Mexico feeling like Argentina seemed like a really really really long ways away.

I used to have a very hard time allowing myself to divert from an original plan.  If I set my mind to get to Argentina, I would get there whether I really wanted to or not, simply because I said I would.  So I promised myself from the beginning that I would only keep bike touring so long as it made sense to me to keep going, either because I was in love with the trip, or because I still had a lot of soul searching to do on the road.  One of my biggest fears, in fact, was that I would arrive at the end of the world and be no closer to figuring out what I want from life than when I started.  

I've come to realize that I really like bike touring, but right now, I don't love it in and of itself such that I want to keep pedaling indefinitely.  And while I still have a lot of soul searching to do, leaving everything familiar and erasing all sense of permanence has helped me realize that I'm not programmed to be a wandering soul forever.  Although bike touring Mexico has truly been my most amazing adventure so far, it's time for me to be closer to my family and to make a new home for myself.

Gonzalo and I have talked a lot over the last few weeks about the prospects for this bike tour, and while both of us have exciting plans awaiting us back "home," neither of us are quite ready to end the trip.  We officially decided that our trip will live in the history books as an amazing bike tour of Mexico, with Cancun as our final destination in two months, which will allow me to join my family for a trip to Yosemite in early September.  

With this new trip plan in mind, the two of us spent some time reviewing our gear to see what we could send back to lighten our load for the last two months of this tour.

Not quite ultralightweight... but I've shed probably about 20+ pounds of gear by removing the front panniers, winter gear, and other gear I don't use so much.

What did I decide to send back?

Pair of Ortlieb frontroller panniers
Park Tool big blue book of bike repair
Tubus front racks
MSR water filter and repair kit
Down sweater
Pair of winter gloves
Winter hat
Bandana
Pair of mountain biking gloves
Miscellaneous bike parts
Thermalite sleep sack
Spanish grammar book
Book about Batopilas
Mophie charger
Batteries
Universal plug adaptor
Spare Schwalbe mondial marathon tire
Thermal underwear

Our awesomely taped up boxes... Gonzalo engineered a custom box from a huge piece of cardboard for his gear.

*** IMPORTANT NOTE:  You should not tape your box up before heading to send anything from Mexico to the U.S. ... they opened my box to review everything and took out a years supply of contact lenses, a bottle of drops to sanitize water (which in retrospect, I wanted to keep anyway), and my stormproof matches.  Thanks to Gonzalo and Victor for so patiently dealing with all the red tape of mailing items back to the U.S. ***

Days 70 Through 72: Parral (aka Wheeee Pancho Villa!)

Parral's claim to fame is that the legendary and controversial Pancho Villa was assassinated here on July 20, 1923.  Womanizer, bandit, Robin Hood, education advocate, and a leader of the Mexican Revolution, invader of the U.S. state of New Mexico, Pancho Villa provides fascinating fodder for the area's museums.  Beyond the Villa-mania, Parral is also known as the silver capital of the world (of course, the parralenses have conveniently omitted the "silver" part of that nickname) and is home to a gajillion monuments.

As a quick aside, I find it interesting (and somewhat perplexing) that so many bike tourers decide not to stay in towns for any period of time.  Maybe it's because of the traffic, or maybe because they find it to expensive, or maybe because they aren't interested in culture and history, or maybe they just don't write about it in their blogs, but I look forward to exploring the museums, restaurants, and relaxing for a bit.  It also gives me a chance to be a little bit more "myself" than when I'm traveling in rural areas... that is, I don't have to wear shirts with sleeves lest I shock locals with my tattoo (well, it is still shocking, but not offensive), and I don't have to watch what I say quite as much.

Lovely gorditas on Av. Independencia right next to the old Teatro Hidalgo.  I highly recommend the ones stuffed with chile colorado (spicy!) and chile largo (red pepper with cheese).  

This kindly gentleman was the font of historical factoids and gave us some insider tips on local restaurants.

Palacio Alvarado... a beautifully restored mansion built a century ago by French architect Amerigo Rouvier for silver tycoon Pedro Alvarado.  Tours are given in Spanish (for tips) and the mansion is chock full of interesting artifacts and antiques.  Random fact, Mr. Alvarado was an OCD hand washer and good friend to Pancho Villa because Villa saved his life and his son's life at some point.

The small but interesting Pancho Villa museum.

And in case you had any doubt, yes, this is where he was killed.

I can't tell if the typo is authentic or not... ha.

Beautiful stained glass ceiling art in the museum.

We took the oh-so-touristy tour of the city in the Pyojito... 

Parral is billed as a culinary destination in Mexico... famous for its enchiladas (we tried the infamous Enchiladas Doña Cuca but were underwhelmed) and dulce de leche candies (pictured are an assortment from the infamous Gota de Miel which were very good, but since I'm not a huge sweets person, they are probably a bit lost on me).

We almost decided not to take the Tran Villa, the Pyojito's competition, but thank goodness we did... it was a far superior tour despite it's silly name.  

Statue of Elisa Griensen at the Prieta mine who is considered a heroine for her role in opposing U.S. forces that came to Parral in pursuit of Pancho Villa.

We start our tour of the Prieta mine with the hilarious and knowledgable Mauricio.  This was one of the big highlights of our stay in Parral.

The mine's 600 horsepower engine which stayed in operation for a really long time before the mine closed in 1974 due to the falling prices of the various metals that were mined here.

Mauricio explains that this tunnel was a training area for miners to make sure they could handle confined dark spaces .

View from the top of the mine.  These arrows do not actually point in the right direction.

Looking dandy in our safety helmets before we loaded onto a rickety double-decker elevator to travel 85 meters down to the second level of the mine.  We were told there were 25 levels, the deepest of which was over 800 meters down.

Getting ready to descend.

This shrine greets us as we unload off the elevator into the depths of the mine.

Mauricio leads us through the tunnels and explains every little facet of the mining industry.

The presentation is surprisingly balanced... Mauricio explained how the Raramuri were enslaved by the mining magnates and also explained the ancient mining techniques.  Later, he would show us how the mining techniques were modernized.

After two days of being super tourists, it was time for us to relax and celebrate Gonzalo's birthday.  It also happened to be the longest day of the year, so we figured we'd hit the rooftop terrace with some red wine, Gonzalo's liver killer of choice, and watch the the sunset before dinner.  We schlepped around half the liquor stores in town for any sort of decent red wine but were greeted by the only-worthy-for-sangria Padre Kino or nothing at all.  That is, until we had the smarts to find a liquor store in the trendier part of downtown on Av. Independencia.  Bingo!

The best wine in all the land... at US$14 a bottle!  Mind you, Padre Kino runs a whopping US$4.50.

Wine n' deep birthday conversations brought to you by Concha y Toro.

Massive molcajete dish at the relatively fancy J. Quissime on Av. Independencia... uh reservations?  Oops, luckily they had a table.

A few travel notes for cyclists:

• The Tran Villa tour was extremely well done, very informative (though only in Spanish), and covered a wide range of landmarks, including the time capsule la puerta del tiempo, the Delores cemetery where Villa's headless body is buried, and the Prieta mine.  The tour is 30 pesos (plus tip for the tour guide), starts on the hour at the Plaza Principal from 10am to 4pm, and gives you the opportunity to be dropped off at the Prieta mine for a well-worth-it-tour of the mine, which costs 25 pesos (plus tip for the tour guide).  While they do require a minimum of four people to do the tour of the mine, it's worth waiting for more people to show up.  The city tour takes about 50 minutes and the tour of mine takes another hour.

• Another tour is the Pyojito, which costs a mere 15 pesos.  It was a fun 30 min ride with an unenthusiastic tour guide.  Tours start on the hour in front of the Pancho Villa museum.  Though honestly, it would be just as easy to walk the route we rode and if you only have time for one, do the Tran Villa tour instead.

• We have found the Hotel Acosta to be lovely despite being a bit pricer than our normal digs (that is, 345 pesos for two people versus 200 to 250 pesos)... the place is immaculate and spacious, corner rooms on the third floor provide gorgeous views of the city, the view from the rooftop terrace also can't be beat, there is free purified water, free wifi, and everyone who works here are welcoming and knowledgable.  In particular, we found the tiny old lady to be extremely helpful with directions, though sometimes it takes her a couple minutes to give you the full directions because she will give you the block by block breakdown of how to arrive somewhere.  The two main drawbacks are that the bathrooms are a bit small and cramped, and they don't allow bikes in the rooms... they did let us keep them in the lobby, locked the door in front of where they are kept, and assured us that there is always someone on watch.

• If you want a huge filling breakfast to recover some cycling calories, head to La Fuente just off the main plaza... our favorite was the loaded enchiladas... for just 75 pesos (or US$5.65) you can get 4 enchiladas smothered in a wonderful ranchero sauce topped with two eggs to order, a healthy dollop of beans, a bread basket, fresh squeezed orange juice, and coffee.  Or if you are a little less hungry, the other breakfast deals run about 65 pesos (or US$4.90).

A note about being a woman cyclist in Mexico:

One of the most frustrating aspects of cycling in Mexico and Latin America in general is the assumptions men and women alike make about me as a woman cyclist.  The most prominent frustration is that everywhere we go, I am asked if Gonzalo is my husband.  This, in and of itself, is not insulting.  People are curious, they want to know all about you and your family even before they know your name.  But when I tell them, no, we're just friends, they look at me in disbelief.  How can this woman travel with this man and not be married?  Then they smile knowingly and tell me that this will change, because surely, I cannot spend this much time with any man and not want to marry him.  I consider Mexico a bit more progressive than the vast majority of Latin America, and the fact that this idea that "any man will do so long as he is around" exists makes me a little depressed for women in Mexico.

There is also the ever-present idea that a woman cannot possibly be strong enough to do a fully loaded bike tour.  The woman at the taco stand in Guachochi asked if this trip wasn't too hard for me.  Just today, a man blatantly assumed that Gonzalo carried all of our gear and that was the only way I could possibly be traveling by bicycle.  Even more annoying is that they direct their comments to Gonzalo as if I weren't sitting right there.  Gonzalo assures everyone that yes, I am strong enough.  I no longer have the energy or desire to become outraged every time this happens.  It's not my battle to fight and, more than anything, it has helped me realize that in the long term, I don't want to live in a society where I would have to bear that burden every day.