It was a bright spot in a very bleak day. We were struggling through the mountains in central-eastern Turkey. The roads were rough, the grades were steep, and the wind blew so hard you could lean into it and never fall over.
We met a couple of men at a roadside chai stop. They invited us up the hill and we soon discovered that they were teachers. We were introduced to their classroom full of Kurdish students, all dressed up in their bright blue-and-white school uniforms. As their teachers translated, the students asked us scores of questions about our travels.
Then it was time for them to sing for us. They lined up and struggled through a couple of short songs. Then one of the teachers singled out one of the girls and called her to the front of the room.
She opened her mouth and a voice mature beyond her age filled the room. I still get goose bumps listening to it.
The weather and the road were still bleak … but that little girl’s voice reminded us once again that the journey is always worth the effort.
Update: I am God: Cycling India won by a large margin. So India it is!
You can buy tickets in advance here. Cascade Bicycle Club’s Presentation Series
I am God: Cycling India
Tuesday, April 12, 7PM
REI, Seattle
Even under the threat of snow, the crowds came out and packed REI’s Seattle flagship store for Any Port in a Storm: Cycling and Wild Camping Through Portugal as part of the presentation series of the Cascade Bicycle Club.
Due to the success of the show, Cascade has asked me to present again on April 12th. But I haven’t chosen the show yet. I’ve been giving presentations at REI and Bike Expo since 1994–when slide projectors reigned supreme and no one knew what a world wide web was. I often have folks ask, “I missed the India show. Will you ever be doing it again?” Or, “I’m planning a trip to Turkey, are you presenting that show in the Seattle area?”
Here’s your chance to influence which show I present in April. Reply to this post with the show you’d most like to see from the list below. I’ll tally your choices (along with the votes I get from my audience at Bike Expo and my email list) and the show that comes out on top will be presented on April 12th.
And the choices are: (vote totals: final) I am God: Cycling India (31)
Fear and Hospitality: Cycling South Africa (15)
So Close and Yet So Far Away: Cycling Cuba (5)
The Bad Road: Cycling Turkey (6)
A Tale of Twos: Cycling Thailand and Laos (9)
Please only vote if you live close enough to actually attend the show. I’ll announce the winner soon after Bike Expo (March 12 & 13).
If I asked you to list the Seven Wonders of the World, would you be able to do it?
You would first have to ask me, “Which seven wonders?”
There are many lists: The Seven Wonders of the Ancient World, The Seven Wonders of the Modern World … the Natural World … the Underwater World.
No matter what answers you gave, somebody or some organization would disagree with you.
But here is a much more important question, and one that you’ll always get right.
What are the Seven WANDERS of YOUR World?
Where do you want to travel? It is a simple question that I find many people don’t ask themselves. What are your travel dreams? Pedaling across the U.S.? Your own state? Alaska to Tierra del Fuego? A grand world tour?
Dream big. Dream small. Weekenders to no-time-limit life changers.
Now. Write them down. At least seven of them. You can include more … it’s your list. Remember, there are no wrong answers and your list is always “subject to change.”
Are these my/our next seven trips? Probably not. The next place we tour might not even be on the list. But every trip begins with a dream.
Whenever someone asks me about bicycle travel, I ask them where they want to go. It is amazing how often the answer is, “I don’t know. I just want to travel.”
Take it a step further. Seven steps further.
Make a list.
Seven correct answers that are always subject to change.
One of the few racing cyclists I met while I was in Cuba (1998) was a young man named Alexie. He came over to chat with me in a small town in the province of Pinar del Rio (west of Havana).
I thought he was interested in my bike. It was a Rodriguez, which is a common surname in Cuba. But I later found out he wasn’t interested in the frame or the brakes or the tires. He was interested in one of my water bottles.
He explained that he dreamed of painting his bike white and blue. But the water bottle he owned was yellow. Water bottles in Cuba, like everything else, were in short supply. He had searched for months and couldn’t find one to match his dream bike.
It just so happened that I had the coveted white-and-blue water bottle.
He held up his old, yellow water bottle with the black cap next to mine … assuring me that they both carried the same amount of liquid. Then he asked if I would be willing to trade.
I didn’t hesitate. I just handed it over.
Alexie beamed. And I thought, “What an easy goodwill gesture.”
Soon after, I learned that there is a difference between drinking from a white-and-blue bottle versus a yellow one … especially if the yellow one is filled with rum.
I took a huge swallow and almost passed out from the unexpected rush of alcohol.
Alexie and his friends couldn’t stop laughing. I laughed, too, once I’d caught my breath and wiped the tears from my eyes.
That journey was a dozen years ago — and to this day, if I hold that yellow water bottle up to my nose, I get the faintest whiff of Cuban rum.
I imagine a bike racer in the hot Cuban sun, pedaling in cadence with a pace line. He reaches down and grabs an old white-and-blue water bottle.
When we say we cycled Portugal, we mean it! Portugal is about the size of Indiana and friends joked we could see it in a week. Instead of hitting just the highlights, we took our time wandering the back roads as much as possible and exploring the major cities too. It was luxurious to focus on such a small region getting to know it intimately. The landscape changed daily and the culture and cuisine is distinctively different north to south. Wine is delicious everywhere! In three months, we pedaled 2,934.7 kilometers (1,823.5 miles) by crossing the country SIX times. Still, there are places we didn’t see…
Two kids came riding up to me in the middle of Saskatchewan, waving and smiling.
“Hey Mister. Did you come all the way up the hill?”
I looked to behind me to the west and then ahead to the east. It was flat as the eye could see. I hadn’t encountered a hill for at least a week.
These kids were obviously joking.
But, fortunately, before I laughed or opened my mouth, I looked into their eyes and saw nothing but earnestness.
There was a ever-so-slight grade coming into town. Two percent. Max. But in their world, this was the steepest hill you could pedal.
I’ve met plenty of folks on my travels who have never traveled fifty miles beyond their home town. And for at least hundred miles in each direction … this WAS the hill.
I smiled at the boys and said, “You bet I did. Never thought I’d make it.”
We pedaled into town together and I bought them an ice cream to celebrate our accomplishment. I bought one for me too. Couldn’t let them eat alone.
Over the course of my lifetime, my own definition of “hill” or “big climb” has changed. But whether it’s a two percent grade, or twenty-two percent … getting to the top has always been a reason to celebrate.
Happy Climbing (and even happier summiting) in 2011.
Holiday shoppers pop out the umbrellas in Sevilla, Spain
Our latest bike journey ended in the beautiful city of Sevilla (Seville), Spain.
I’m a sucker for Christmas/holiday music and also a huge fan of street performers. These musicians add life to any city. And I love being in the crush of holiday crowds … especially when I’m observing, rather than shopping.
As we wandered through the streets of Sevilla, I recorded the street performers we encountered. Quite an eclectic bunch. In the United States, once Thanksgiving has rolled by, the songs you will hear performed on the streets is pretty much limited to the canon of 20-30 holiday tunes. I still love them. But some variety would be welcome.
Well. That’s what we got. Sure, we heard some traditional tunes. But street musicians in Sevilla do not all march to the holiday tune drum … unless you consider “Knights in White Satin” a holiday classic.
Happy Holidays from Spain.
May your days be merry and bright. And may all your bicycle gear be light.
We only planned to bicycle to Seville to catch the train to Madrid after our 2 1/2 month pedal around Portugal. Little did we know that we were headed into one of the fastest growing “bicycle cities” on the planet.
In just a matter of a few years, Seville has gone from almost no one using a bike for transportation, to over 60,000 people biking per day.
It wasn’t accomplished simply by an ad campaign. The city built and/or marked a network of 120 kms worth of traffic-separated bike paths around the city. These are not your average recreational paths that end abruptly, leaving the cyclist confused and lost. These paths are meant as a transportation system — all connected, and, as we found, all easy to follow.
In addition, the city has provided a bicycle sharing system with 300 stations and over 3000 bikes (Their bike program is called Sevici).
Kat and I were blown away with how efficient and easy the whole system operates. We barely had to refer to our bike map.
Thirty years ago, cities were best avoided on a bike tour. Now, thanks to bicycle advocates and campaigns around the world, more and more cities are becoming bicycle destinations themselves.
This coming year’s Velocity Conference will be hosted in Seville, where advocates will gather to learn and share how to make the world a better place to pedal.
