Solo Female Cycling Around the World

5 Reasons To Celebrate Valentine’s Day

2012-02-14T21:27:00.001+13:00

Pitter patter my heart, oh la la, it’s Valentine’s Day. My e-mail box was loaded this week with links galore in the celebration of Valentine’s Day throughout the cycling world. After all my recent talk about my reunion with my hubby Mr Rohloff Wheel, I am not surprised.

Tread Marks Of Experience….Have You Ever Cycled Through Pooh?

2012-02-11T17:17:00.024+13:00

Laughing At Lingams, Top 3 Phallic Tales Of Explosive Exposure

2012-02-09T05:47:00.003+13:00

Lingam is defined by the Webster’s dictionary as "a phallic symbol,male in stature, historically referred to as a symbol of reproduction...protruding outward from the male statue"

Lingam as defined by the solo female bicycle tourist glossary of terms as, "oh no, not again, please put that thing away!"

Back In My Wheels, My Hubby Rohloff Could Soften Any Heart

2012-01-26T09:46:00.001+13:00

The creaking door swings wide on aging post office hinges that have watched closely over many a reunion. The shipping counter is cluttered with stacks of patrons; piles of invoices, blur my vision as I gaze through the distant crowd looking for my hubby Mr. Rohloff Wheel.

Waiting On A Man, Rohloff, Where Are You?

2012-01-24T21:17:00.004+13:00

Perched high in a round balcony, a widow peers out into the distance Mediterranean oceans waiting on a sailor who left for the hospital in Germany a long time ago. Since the early 1800’s, when the first widows perch was built women have sat patiently and waited for the return of a life they once knew. It is now 2012, I find myself in camaraderie with the women of history as I sit halted from my world bicycle tour waiting on a man, my hubby Rohloff.

What’s A Purist Anyway…Do You Walk The Line?

2012-01-18T08:08:00.001+13:00

The purist cyclist will pass up a bus, train or plane, never walk the line and cycle everywhere they travel. Johnny Cash would of made a fine bicycle tourist. Like sobriety is to an alcoholic, a purist is determined to tackle daily route planning logistics of a bicycle tour without motorized support, boats being the exception because you can’t cycle on water anyway. However, even Johnny had his uppers and downers.

Rohloff or Roll On, You Decide

2012-01-12T00:32:00.002+13:00

After about 30,000 uncounted kilometers, Pandemic The Magic bicycle is suffering a cough due to cold, a pesky hiccup of sorts that persists with a hypochondriac’s insistence that something is not quite right.

Adventures Of A Solo Cyclist, An Article By Vaugh Himmelsbach

2012-01-08T03:53:00.001+13:00

I was interviewed for an article about women’s adventure travel by Chick Savvy Travels, a CA based travel website. I thought I would share the article written by Vawn Himmelsbach here as well.

Nominated?

2012-01-07T02:24:00.006+13:00

Like cargo pants that spend too much time on the road, I was torn, crinkled beyond flat nominated by Hike Bike Travel for this best of the best assignment. A project started by Budget Travel Adventures.com Surely, there are plenty of better travelers out there, plenty of real writers too. I am just a solo female cycling around the world since 2009, 18 countries to date to be exact. It is true, I have met some wonderful people and I have laughed a lot but who hasn’t.

Tips and Magic Bicycle Tricks For Bicycle Touring With Only Two Panniers

2012-01-05T02:58:00.000+13:00

As anyone who has read Roll’in With My Hommies, How To Bicycle Tour Anywhere With Only 2 Panniers knows, Pandemic The Magic Bicycle is a close personnel friend of Houdini’s. Pandemic The Magic Bicycle ran into Houdini at the Spokes Bar for a talk about bicycle touring anywhere with only 2 panniers.

Man In The Mirror…How To Turn Illusions Into Realities and Start a Bicycle Tour

2012-01-03T22:00:00.005+13:00

Photo Credit London To Kathmandu By Bicycle

Illusion: Bicycle Tourists must be super fit

It is true that a sustained level of daily activity such as bicycle touring does do some good for cardiovascular health, however, some bicycle tourists lack or have lost their upper and core body strength.

Ssshhhh, I Can’t Hear You…Why I Love My MSR Whisper Lite Stove

2012-01-02T22:11:00.000+13:00

Roll’in With My Homies…How To Bicycle Tour With Only Two Panniers

2012-01-02T21:54:00.008+13:00

I have been asked several times how I got bicycle touring gear and a camping kit into 2 Ortlieb panniers and no handlebar bag instead of the typical 4-5 pannier set up. The answer is Houdini is a close personnel friend of Pandemic The Magic bicycle, just kidding. Here are 5 myths debunked about lightweight 4 season bicycle touring.

Top 5 Symptoms You Are A Psycho, I Mean A Cycle Tourist

2012-01-02T20:42:00.000+13:00

Number 5

Your clothes have gotten so mangy that even stray dogs are frightened of your appearance

New Years and New Gears…Top 3 Things to be Grateful For This Year

2012-01-01T03:39:00.004+13:00

Number 3 Inviting

Ballerinas to Texas Rodeos

As I pedaled through Pakistan and Iran dressed like a ballerina at a Texas rodeo breaking all culturally appropriate rules just by breathing, I owe 100’s of thank-you’s to everyone on route for the kindness, encouragement and wonderful camping spots, and meals shared. Most of all thank you for your open mindedness and overlooking my oddness for a lone woman cycling in these areas is about as odd as a ballerina at a Texas rodeo.

Bicycles and Brie...Why You Will Love Cycle Touring In France

2012-01-01T02:31:00.002+13:00

Wow (woman on wheels) participant Susan Minnich returned from her second bicycle tour in France recently. Suzecyling routes cover the Atlantic to the Mediterranean and the Pyrenees mtn. regions of France. I caught up with Susan through an e-mail Q and A. Here is what Susan had to say about cycling in France.

Dear Rohloff

2011-12-30T20:51:00.001+13:00

Dear Rohloff,

Please take care of my hubby Mr. Rohloff Wheel. He has been on quite a voyage and due to the fact that he is overweight and too large in certain areas, I was unable to ship him with his tube or tire. The postal service said NO, however an outlandish 20-30 day trial separation was suggested.

Cyprus…How To Bicycle Tour Princess Style

2011-12-30T20:38:00.002+13:00

As I make my way around N Cyprus, castles abound, the ocean scenery is splendid and the free camping is 5 star. As I was leaving Girne (Kyrenia) after a trekking loop of the eastern tip of the Island, I met up with 3 other bicycle tourists on their way to cycle N Cyprus. I truly enjoy trying new things therefore I was happy to pedal in my first mixed gender foursome for a bicycle tour of Turkish Cyprus.

Cheers and Gears…How To Celebrate The Holidays On The Road

2011-12-24T22:25:00.001+13:00

As the musical sound of some unknown voice belts out the verses of the Karan from the nearby mosque, my ears resonate with memories. I am reminded not of the Christmas holidays but of the need for all mosques to update their speakers.

You're So Vain, Tips For Looking Great While Bicycle Touring

2011-12-15T22:50:00.001+13:00

After months of full coverage cycling through India, Pakistan and Iran, I realized something about myself. I might as well change my name to Carly and start singing 'You're so Vain' in the mirror to my self every morning because I had no idea how much the police in Iran mandating my attire would truly be such an issue.

Freedom Fight, Pandemic The Magic Bicycle Crosses Into Iran

2011-12-09T02:00:00.005+13:00

While I sit on a colonial porch overlooking the ocean I am saturated with copious amounts of local red wine. The free Wi-Fi belts out YouTube videos. My bare arms and legs sing freedom in the winter air. The confines of repression are intoxicated by alcoholic fantasies of revenge against the Iranian military and police.

Truth Or Dare, A Madonna Cycles In The Middle East

2011-11-24T03:12:00.000+13:00

Dressed like a ballerina at a Texas rodeo, I continue my pedaling quest through Iran longing to arrive at the Turkish border. Iran is a great place for cycling; nice people and good roads, blah, blah, blah. However, the country is riddled with rules and restrictions. It has been weeks now, since I realized, that if I was resident here, I would of no doubt been shackled to the sin slammer by the age of three just for existing.

Para-Cycling, The Balancing Act Of A Champion

2011-11-23T22:46:00.000+13:00

Sheyda’s M. Heydar’s first bicycle was an old red bicycle that he found near his dusty stone home in his desert village, it was 1981 in Afghanistan. Sheyda smiles at the memory of riding his red bicycle to school. As I peer down at Sheyda’s identification card, it reads ‘Iran Cycling Federation of The Islamic Republic’. I am bursting and can barely contain my cheer inside, for meeting a professional cyclist is a huge treat.

Girly Girl Gear For Guys Too

2011-11-17T04:22:00.001+13:00

Last week, I received an e-mail, it was a questionnaire that a bicycle touring website gives to women cyclists. They wanted to know how many pairs of panties I am packing in my panniers. I told them that my be the adventure panties were none of their business.

Solo Female Travel In Iran, What’s The Plan?

2011-11-16T20:01:00.000+13:00

As I sit eating chicken kabobs in a restaurant, a young Iranian woman has come to visit me. As she pulls up a freshly painted wooden chair her beautiful smile and round face radiates outward from her chador, (a type of full coverage headscarf). She is bursting with questions.

Dear Universe please let a truck stop, I think I need help arranging my funeral

2011-11-14T07:39:00.000+13:00

Dear Universe please let a truck stop, I think I need help arranging my funeral

My stomach gives up sometime during the night as I am camping during the season’s first frost and I lose track exactly how many times I have hurled. When the sun comes up in the morning, I pack up and decide to pedal into the closest town to look for a pharmacy or a place to die, whichever comes first. With my imminent death so near, immediately after hurling again, I say out loud while standing with magic bicycle on the side of the road. I say to the frosty Middle Eastern near winter air, I say

How Great It Is To Be a Man in Baluchistan

2011-11-09T02:35:00.001+13:00

As I sit and wait at sun rise in the no-mans land between Pakistan and Iran, I patiently wait for the Iranian border gate to open.

Pakistani My fanny

2011-11-09T01:20:00.000+13:00

Chugga chugga choo choo….the train plugs along at the speed of a bicycle through Baluchistan province, Pakistan. A part of the world in which blending in and passing by unnoticed is a really good idea. What the hell am I doing in this desert? I am thoroughly informed by everyone, guest house owners, other over-landers and military police, that cycling the road from Pakistan into Iran is not possible,

A Snowball's Chance In Hell…How To Prepare For A Winter Bicycle Tour

2011-10-24T07:16:00.004+13:00

Some would say that there isn't a snowball's chance in hell that they would undertake a winter bicycle tour but for WOW(women on wheels) member Ellen Moseman she sees it differently. Ellen, an English teacher living in China took time away from her preparations for her upcoming winter bicycle tour of central Asia and the Pamir Mountains to answer a few questions for us all about winter bicycle touring.

Laugh Until You Bust but Pedaling In Pakistan is A Definitive Must…Top 5 Reasons To Pedal In Pakistan

2011-10-20T06:47:00.002+13:00

Number 5. Road Side Bombs For some road side bombs and the Taliban is what is conjured when one thinks about Pakistan as a must see bicycle touring location. However, as the media drops bombs of bad news about Pakistan you can be content to know that you are part of a brave posey of bicycle tourists. Travelers, shielded by the adventurous spirit are rewarded with a hospitality that will quickly detonate any misconceptions the media has fired up about the place.

Top 5 Reasons Rohloff Makes The Perfect Hubby

2011-10-18T20:44:00.005+13:00

Top 5 Reasons Rohloff Makes The Perfect Hubby

My Rohloff, my German internal gear hub system, love of my life, I take thee for better or for worst, in sickness and in health until death do we part, my friend, my companion and love of my life. I lawfully wed thee in front of the cycling community… You may now kiss your hubby Rohloff.

We Want Freedom. An Interview With Cindy Travis

2011-10-16T07:22:00.002+13:00

“We want freedom, we want justice, long like the Dali Llama, we want freedom, no more repression….”. The echo is powerful; the women’s voice is horse from shouting from the heart, a place that only someone who truly knows can find.

Good Curry And A Spicy Conversation, Canadian Women Cyclists Unite For Dinner In India

2011-09-28T04:56:00.002+13:00

The Canadian flag can be hung high and proud this evening for Canadian female cyclists. 7000 miles (11000 km) from home, 5 Canadian cyclists meet by chance in a church court yard in Shimla, India. We immediate say hello and decide to meet for dinner for some good curry and a spicy conversation.

Tires and Tears…Have You Ever Cried On A Bicycle Tour?

2011-09-15T20:59:00.004+12:00

With big ole tears running down my cheeks I take three deep breaths and carry Pandemic The Magic Bicycle over my head through the river current. The road has been deteriorating throughout the day with the river getting deeper at each road wash out.

Booteh Call…Six Tips For The Solo Female In India

2011-09-11T22:06:00.004+12:00

How about one kiss? Ah, no thanks man, I am all set. Sex, sex, sex? Nah, man. Rupees, rupees, rupees? What, dude, you got to be shitt’in me, right? For everything you must think about me right now, I do believe you should be giving me money for sex not the other way around.

The Tibetan Dance Of Tardy Technology

2011-09-05T23:43:00.001+12:00

High up on the Ladakhi plateau at 3500 meters, I find myself lingering for the day while arranging bicycle replacements parts for Pandemic The Magic Mountain Climbing Bicycle through friends of friend in Germany. My altitude junkie soul and mountain legs are antsy to pedal south over the 5325 meters (17470 feet) Taglang Pass that lay ahead in the Leh to Manali via Spiti Valley. The route is famous for altitude cycling and often considered one of the world’s best cycling routes.

Honk, If You Like Cycling In India

2011-09-02T19:43:00.002+12:00

HONK, HOONNNNKKKK, HONK, HONK!!! I am positive, I now need hearing aids. Yep, I am sure of it. The growing market for hearing aids for cyclists just got one bigger. I do believe the folks here have some serious honking issues. A unique technique of horn pushing is in use at all times here in the India Himalaya. There is the carnival horn, the never ending can life on mars hear me honk and my personnel favorite, the 6 part medley chorus of various octaves and ear drum vibrating you deserve to be swore at honk.

Windows To My Doors Of Perception…India

2011-08-25T16:43:00.004+12:00

Hello misses, yes we have a room, this way please. I climb three flights of humid rain drenched stairs while carrying Pandemic The Magic bicycle to my room. The door isn’t really a door, the door is a window, not a window fashioned into a door but an actual window.

Lahore Never A Bore...The Photo Show

2011-08-21T06:55:00.001+12:00

The city of Lahore is never a bore

Oh Shit!

2011-08-17T20:09:00.004+12:00

“Oh shit” RUN!!!! I hear my two friends say as we stand midst a joyous crowd of thousands of dancing, singing, honking and smiling people. I am short in a crowd, actually I am short even not in a crowd. However, regardless of my vertically challenged position, I cannot see that the riot police have just pulled a AK-47 on the crowd. As the crowd turns toward me with childlike playful smiles, the seas of running Pakistani men engulf me like a bore tide on a full moon.

Rapping With The Man In Pakistan

2011-08-13T19:33:00.000+12:00

As I venture fourth in a motorcycle rickshaw my headscarf flapping free in the chaos of the flooded Lahore streets, I am oddly bouncing away. Not due the absent shocks of the rickshaw or the fact that we are going about 90MPH zigzagging inches from every vehicle we approach but bouncing to the beat of the Beastie Boys screaming rap songs into my headphones. For some reason, I really enjoy listening to the Beastie Boys rapping on full volume while wearing a headscarf going ninety MPH in the back of a motorcycle rickshaw through the flooded streets of Lahore, Pakistan...who knew?

Call A Friend, Ask The Audience, 50/50...Who Wants To Be A Cyclist?

2011-07-27T19:29:00.001+12:00

50/50 As I pedal up the mountainous Karakorum Highway (KKH) I am admiring the lush green hills, oh no, not again… I jam the brakes dive to the side of the road and throw up. Jump back up on the bicycle and pedal on… Another puke rally for me as I make my way over the mountains with 50 percent of my lunch left in my belly. The funny thing is I don’t want to stop pedaling because at each turn of the bend in the road the people here are truly fun to meet and be around.

Drinking Warm Smiles While Pedaling In Pakistan

2011-07-16T19:13:00.001+12:00

As I drift off to sleep I peer through the door of my little tent at the burning fires high on the Himalaya hills of the Hunza valley of Pakistan, the echoes of drums resonate on the hill side as the final day of the national celebration comes to a close. It is the annual celebration of Prince Karim Agah Khan. Every year around the world on July 11^th fire and lights burn in celebration of the day when the prince received his spiritual powers from his grandfather.

Paris Hilton Arrives In Pakistan With A Magic Bicycle

2011-07-16T18:55:00.002+12:00

As I climb out of the desert and venture past the final community in China I begin to climb into the Kunjerab Pass. An expensive dark Chinese’s SUV arrives. I am immigration, it is Chinese law, no cycling the border crossing in China, you must take bus to Sost, Pakistan. No you are kidding, really? I am so lost, thank you for stopping and helping me I say with a devilish grin. My pedaling soul REALLY wants to pedal over the 5400 meter pass and silly me may have known that China wouldn’t let me and may of tried pedaling down the road into the mountains anyway.

InSANDnity

2011-06-21T00:01:00.021+12:00

I’ll get you my pretties...what, huh, what’s that voice, did you hear that Pandemic? Is the desert wind playing tricks on me? Perhaps I have finally done my head in, does looking at too much sand affect mental stability?

One Stone At A Time...Life Goes On In Yushu

2011-06-06T03:23:00.003+12:00

As my shoe steps down into the mud, the rain continues, a woman stands up, raises her head from the debris pile and smiles. She looks up, a proud smiling face full of mud freckles and points me to a drier path. She is hard at work removing rubble one stone at a time.

The Tibetan Camera Carnival

2011-06-06T02:50:00.000+12:00

The Tibetan plateau is as alive as can be

Ego On The Rocks...Top 5 Bicycle Touring Buzz Kills

2011-06-06T01:51:00.002+12:00

Back In The Game

2011-06-06T01:35:00.003+12:00

As my fingers solidify tightly around the handle bars, the muddy dirt road turns to slippery ice. Pandemics tires spin in the frigid wind like a hamster on a wheel at an Alaskan kite flying contest. The ferocious breeze, ice and ridiculous mountain conditions prevail.

Perk My Pedal, The World's Greatest Men

2011-06-06T01:11:00.000+12:00

On my, oh la la, look at him. At times, while pedaling the world there is a shortage of snow peaked mountains and cascading rivers on which to drool. Therefore, I find my attention drifts with a girlish like grin towards the men that surround me as I cycle the world. After all, I never could stay away from the boys.

Tibetan Leg Lunch...Top 5 Ways To Deal With Dogs While Cycling

2011-05-19T20:17:00.004+12:00

As I stand over Pandemic The Magic Bicycle at just past midnight, the dark tranquil mountain air is alive with the sounds of barking dogs. A chorus of alarm has been set off in the sleepy Tibet police town of Yanjing, the first police check point into Tibet. Foreigners are not technically allowed to come down this road hence my nighttime duck and cover, drive by technique.

Possible

2011-05-11T13:23:00.002+12:00

With my head light flickering with the last of its battery, I continue to pedal into the night in the mountains. The glistening snow and clear cold starry night illuminate my way as I head up through the mountains just east of Tibet.

Is Peeing In The Snow Really Considered Artwork?

2011-05-02T19:18:00.003+12:00

As most of you know, thanks to my mom I was born a girl. Anyone who changed my diapers back then truly realized that I was indeed a girl. As the years past by I shed my dependency on the cloth diaper and became friends with the toilet and learned to sit or squat to pee, a far more convenient peeing position than standing due to my proximity to the toilet target.

Is This Skalatitude Or Shangri-La?

2011-05-01T18:19:00.003+12:00

As the sun dips behind the mountains in the Yunnan province of western China, the alluring clouds of the afternoon majestic light propel me frontward. A splendid day of pedaling over the charmed mountains down to the alluring Yangtze River and my first wide eyed glance at spacious snow capped mountains burst my vision with energetic exhilaration.

Top 3 Things To Do On A Rest Day...Eat, Sleep, Pole Dance!

2011-04-29T12:08:00.001+12:00

3. Eat, Eat, Eat After 2 breakfasts, 3 lunches, one ice cream cone, 3 bananas , 1 apple, I peer down at my wooden leg , begin to ponder how similar my diet is to that of a pregnant obese lady and wonder what I might find to eat for dinner.

Splash!

2011-04-25T17:27:00.002+12:00

Splash! What the???? What is going on here? Throughout my 20 months of bicycle touring I have been handed bottles of water from cars and thumbs up of support but here in the Yunnan Province of South West China things have drastically changed. Buckets of water are getting thrown at me as I pedal along.

I've Got The Karakorum Highway On My Mind

2011-04-09T11:49:00.003+12:00

If you notice a sole female cyclist peddling down the Karakorum Highway (KKH) in May, don’t be surprised. It will probably be Canadian Loretta Henderson who is peddling around the world for charity. She says “I am really excited about peddling the Karakorum Highway through Northern Pakistan. This has been a dream of mine ever since I started this “.

Rub A Dub Dub In The Photos Bathtub

2011-04-09T04:23:00.009+12:00

Rub-a-dub-dub,Three men in a tub,And how do you think they got there? The butcher, the baker,The candlestick-maker, They all jumped out of a rotten potato, Twas’ enough to make a fish stare…

There Is A Big Mountain In The Way!

2011-04-05T14:14:00.005+12:00

As five cyclists, new friends head together through the mountains, the food is scarce, the laughter is not. Three days and 300km of hills later the rolling crew of 5 spring forth, bellies full of sticky rice and rat on a stick. To the cultural heritage city of Luang Prabang we arrive like gorillas escaping from the forest looking forward to some well earned Laos beer and food that doesn’t involve noodle soup or barbequed rodent.

Have You Heard The One About Women Drivers?

2011-03-30T23:49:00.005+13:00

I slam the brakes and jackknife poor Pandemic the Startled Magic Bicycle as I slosh through a dark greasy puddle and stop short in front of a lunatic of a woman driving a motorcycle as if sponsored by BMW. It seems as I make my way north for the third and final time through the mountains in Laos and into China with my new passport in hand that the women drivers have taken me on with a Mario Andretti ferociousness. They are fresh from the race track, amped on Mekong whisky (a bad joke) and ready to ride. Perhaps, it is my new speed complicating things. I have gotten a fair bit lighter this week as I sorted out my new passport and visas for China, Russia and Pakistan.

Who's On First, What's On Second, I Don't Know's On Third

2011-03-23T19:48:00.002+13:00

Wide eyed, full of excitement, like a kid in the candy store, I admire my new passport. 48 fresh pages to fill, a candy crazed child’s delight, my sweet tooth for travel only satiated by future travel plans. If only the logistics of acquiring visas were as simple as choosing your favorite colored gumball.

Trying Out For The Red Carpet, What To Wear On Your Next Adventure?

2011-03-17T02:34:00.004+13:00

I would like to say as I round the world by bicycle that I am cloaked in a wonder women cape full of magic capabilities. Attire, that is suitable for the red carpet and engineered by fashion experts.

The Bicycle Clown Spreads Much Needed Smiles Across Japan

2011-03-14T19:44:00.002+13:00

As the earth in Japan continues to shake, power plant on fire, tsunami destruction flourishes and the death and injury toll continue to rise, I get a message from my internet boyfriend. Not someone I have been lucky enough to meet (yet), rather an internet friend and fellow long term bicycle tourist. Someone, I greatly admire. Also, the recipient of my long standing joke that the cute, single, Alvaro "Biciclown" Neil is my internet boyfriend. The message said “I climbed a hill and slept near a temple, the airport close by is annihilated, I am ok”. I was relieved to hear that my internet boyfriend and fellow cyclist was safe.

The BiciClown

Bicycle Touring Solo? Boo Hoo Hoo, How To Tackle The Lonesome Blues

2011-03-14T02:44:00.005+13:00

Lonesome is described by the Webster’s dictionary as forlorn, lost, alone, deserted, solitary, isolated, secluded, remote, out of the way, without a friend in the world. Lonesome is described by the solution oriented solo bicycle tourists glossary of terms as….if at times after weeks or months of solo bicycle travel, a profound forlorn feeling creeps into your soul, it is perfectly normal and healthy to have deep meaningful conversation with your bicycle. Psychiatric counseling will not be necessary unless the bicycle or other inanimate objects begin to respond in any recognizable verbal auditory format.

Party Like A Rock Star

2011-03-12T22:23:00.001+13:00

“That is the worst idea I have ever heard”. The words escape from my laughter as I accept the invitation and follow new friends to the top rated tourist attraction in Northern, Laos. River Tubing is a Laos specialty, no shoes or sanity required for this activity that takes place on the Nam Song River in Vang Vieng. Although, you might want to bring a helmet for all good parties require a helmet. A once quaint little picturesque village nestled into a scenic mountain backdrop now colonized by a peculiar happy insanity only found as a direct result of copious amounts of adrenalin and drinks served out of sand castle sized buckets.

Obstacles To A Successful Bicycle Tour...Meet The Psychotic Roosters Of Asia

2011-03-10T18:01:00.005+13:00

It is 4:19 am and I am awake. Click, clack, click there are tiny footsteps dancing outside the door of my bungalow. The mountains here in Laos are getting cold so I have ventured in for the night to a guest house bungalow. Click, clack, click the footsteps appear to be busting out with an early morning tango……Cock A Doodle DOOOOOOO, the song is startling, a disastrous operatic melancholy melody that could make Pavarotti roll over in his grave has just begun outside the thin walls of my wooden bungalow.

Asian Psychotic Rooster

Make Spoons Not War

2011-03-09T23:17:00.003+13:00

The beauty of NE Laos lays in the Laotian people’s remarkable spirit, ingenuity, laughter and smiles for all that pass by their villages. Late in the afternoon, after pedaling up and down the mountains for about 90 kilometers, I stop, hungry again for some noodle soup. As I lift my spoon full of mysterious meat balls, I notice my spoon has been handmade, is heating up quite quickly, is a matt grey color and is very strong and light. As I lift my spoon and thoroughly enjoy my noodle soup, I ponder how such a beautiful people can endure such a sad history and persevere with such kindness for all who cross their paths. The spoon in my soup has been handmade out of scrap metal that has been harvested from the hillside from the left over bomb metal that was dropped overhead by the Americans during The Secret War (1963-1974).

Super Size Me...Getting A New Passport While Traveling

2011-03-02T22:13:00.002+13:00

My passport is full, obese with stamps; it has eaten well over the last 20 months of travel. And like a chubby person in an airplane seat, there are so many stamps that there are stamps spreading out on top of stamps without an empty page or seat in sight. Each of the 24 pages of my passport, stuffed with a stained collage of ink marks as juicy looking as cellulite in a mini skirt.

Solo Female Adventure Travel, Are Your Ovaries Holding You Back?

2011-02-19T19:58:00.001+13:00

Are you alone….you are a girl, are you crazy? Why yes, last I checked down there, yes I am a girl, and crazy? Well only on a good day. I have been asked this many times in many countries by many people from many countries. I have had this conversation in English, French, Indonesian, Thai etc., also in broken English, sign language and hand gestures with no words at all. I do believe I know the words are you alone in at least a dozen languages and various finger positions for the words “solo”. So what is it with this unending curiosity about women travelling alone as unsafe, especially while undertaking an independent adventure?

Let's Get Ready To Rumble...How To Turn A Backpacking Trip Into A Bicycle Tour

2011-02-17T17:43:00.004+13:00

Let’s get ready to rumbleeeeeee…..As the echo of the announcer’s voice permeates throughout the walls of the world arena, the heavy weight champion of world travel is introduced. In the ring of dust and exhaust, in the veteran blue corner, we have the bus. A motorized method of vehicular transportation that is undefeated to date by a 13^th round popular decision on 4 continents.

Present Champion of World Travel by Popular Decision

Bite Me...Essental Foods For A Bicycle Tour Of South East Asia

2011-02-09T00:56:00.003+13:00

Here in Central Laos, after a daily consumption of pedaling and eating rice and lacking the endurance to continue the latter, I begin to pedal along and eye the street food vendors with a hungry curiosity. Noodle soup is the daily breakfast staple; it is served with a plate of lettuce, green beans and chilies. Sticky or steamed rice is the local Laotian roadside meal and my daily snack.

Super Seniors, Taking Adventure Travel To A Whole New Level

2011-02-01T19:33:00.000+13:00

With Pandemic The Magic Bicycle securely loaded onto a wooden boat to cross the Mekong river to the western banks, I follow in the steps of the thousands of monks who have ventured here on pilgrimage to the sacred historic site of Wat Phu. A national heritage site of tremendous anthropological and spiritual importance that is located on top of a hill overlooking the Mekong River. I begin the trek down a dusty stone foot path then begin to climb up, up and up a huge stone “staircase”.

A Lunatic On A Bicycle Meets A Laotian With A Fire Extinguisher

2011-01-30T01:49:00.003+13:00

As I approach the Cambodia/ Laos’s border crossing, I emerge triumphantly though a blazing forest, my wheels spitting out fire bolts, Pandemic The Magic Bicycle’s rubber tread left behind for anyone brave enough to follow. The road ahead, behind and all around appears to be on fire. Flames emerge from the

Birthing A Bicycle Tour

2011-01-21T22:02:00.004+13:00

Some women birth babies others women birth bicycle tours, utilizing their thighs towards creating a slightly different endeavor, an equally challenging affair but a tad less gooey. I dare venture a guess that any woman who has pedaled in the remote central Mekong region would choose the latter. Please don’t misunderstand, after having spent the better part of a decade working with school districts, I do believe that it is fair to say that I enjoy the company of children.

God Bless The Sinners

2011-01-20T01:07:00.004+13:00

Oh, Father Pedal, please forgive me for I have sinned, I am not worthy of the pulpit or spandex for that matter. It has been 7 days since my last ride in the brooks saddle on this bicycle tour. I am here today to confess of my sin of having taken almost a week off from bicycle touring. The guilt provoked by my sin has consumed my lazy soul. The guilt wallows in my soul for I have spend one day site seeing and the other six lingering around consuming Beer Klang, chilling out with new friends and aimlessly lounging around the overly touristy lake area of Phenom Pehn, Cambodia.

While my sinful liver and pedaling legs chilled out in Phenom Phen, I met some fellow sinners or bicycle tourists who have come from Britain overland by bicycle.

The Killing Fields, Slide Show of Cambodia's Genocide

2011-01-16T22:29:00.001+13:00

As I stand at the killing field’s memorial site I am reminded of the brutal capacity of the human spirit. During the 4 year period of 1975-1979, the Kumar Rouge governmental party took power of Cambodia and implemented a genocidal new regime, comparable to the brutality of the Nazis in WW11. And similar to the Nazis the Kumer Rouge meticulously documented the brutality with photos and records of their killing and torturous methods. The “museum” or Killing Fields site are preserved as they were found in 1979.

No Money, No Honey...Budgeting For Your Outdoor Adventure

2011-01-08T13:29:00.002+13:00

Prior to embarking on this outdoor cycling around the world adventure, I would not have even imagined living comfortably on $6USD dollars a day. Back in Alaska, $6USD a day pretty much got you a glass of water maybe some bread and a place to warm up prior to walking home in the cold arctic breeze.

Annie Londonderry...A Flash From The Way Past

2011-01-05T04:16:00.005+13:00

This year over the holidays, I received a gift from the past, the way past. In 1895, the first woman cycled around the world, her name was Annie Londonderry. Annie's great-grandnephew contacted me to wish me well on my adventures and to let me know that Annie would be proud of me. Due to the fact that I am humbled beyond words literally, I asked Peter Zheutlin, Annie's great-grandnephew to share some stories about Annie. Here is what he had to say...

Buddhas and Bar Stools

2011-01-04T22:23:00.007+13:00

As I pedal into Siam Reap in search of a bar stool for the New Years Eve party that takes place yearly on Pub street in the tourists center of the city, I am reminded of Cambodia’s beautiful exquisite history. The main attraction despite the city’s reputation in the SE Asia party scene is not bar stools but rather Buddha’s,

Bangkok, Top 3 Things To Not Do For The Holidays

2010-12-27T23:07:00.006+13:00

As the sugar plum fairies dance on the streets of Bangkok the city is lit up with pseudo celebratory Christmas cheer. Thailand is a Buddhist country therefore the holiday’s scoot by as just another day. The tourist section of Bangkok is known as Koa San Road, which directly translates as party 24/7/365. Sure there is a rich history of Buddhist temples and 1600 century kings palaces right next door but I don’t think that most people notice. As I stroll down the street at 3am there are midgets holding signs selling $0.80 beer, a man on a unicycle pulling his luggage

Follow The Yellow Brick Road

2010-12-12T19:25:00.013+13:00

This is not a story of rainbows or wanderlust of the original solo female traveler Dorothy and her little dog Toto finding courage in the heart of the lion. Nor is it about having to be smarter then the scarecrow to navigate roads in foreign lands. But rather a down home tale of what happens when you have been cycling for hours with a bladder fuller then the size of Kansas.

As the bicycle seat bounces into my bladder, I need to pee and begin to follow the yellow brick road. It is the tropics of southern Thailand and I have consumed enough water to melt the wicked witch of the west.

Solo Female Bicycle Touring, Is It Safe To Be Pack'in Estrogen?

2010-12-10T20:29:00.002+13:00

Well, hello sir, thank you so much, but no thanks, I am OK, I belt out with a tummy jiggling chuckle, a helpful testosterone filled crowd has gathered around me as I repair a puncture in a traffic pull off area deep within the tropical Malaysian rain forest. There are so many oil stained calloused hands trying to hold the bicycle tube or check that my air pump is fastened securely that I can hardly lift a hand in my own assistance. As I crouch over Pandemic the loaded horizontal magic bicycle amongst the, we just love a good hardware store crowd

How to Find Bomb Proof Gear For Your Outdoor Adventure?

2010-12-06T15:50:00.006+13:00

Bomb proof gear because at times the road literally looks like it has been hit by a bomb!

It is December 1 2010, at 12:13pm. The short tempered, explosive, we are everywhere, terrorist sky glistens in suspense, as tropical shrapnel rays of sharp crisp sunshine ricochet through the villainous ocean top gaining velocity as the day advances into the trenches of the afternoon Malaysian humidity. The vehicle is a ‘hooded gangster up to no good’ dark green magic bicycle equipped with a rap sheet of 20,000km of world rolling experience and a long criminal history of destroying gear during outdoor adventures. The accomplice is a solo female bicycle tourist sporting a ‘not even Asama Bin Laden could destroy my gear’ kind of confidence. The accomplice is notorious for conspiring with terrorist type magic bicycles and plotting elaborate international outdoor adventures and considers her motive to be classified due the severity of the problem. The explosion takes place on a downhill section of a heavily trafficked coastal road in northern Malaysia. A giant pot hole detonates; the magic bicycle has been hit. Ortlieb panniers/bicycle bags that have been loosely locked to the back rack implode in seconds and bounce, drag and scrap over the unapologetic road as the accomplish clenches the handle bars and narrowly avoids a road side fatal injury. The Ortlieb panniers bicycle bags prove to be bomb proof and weather the attack relatively unscathed considering the magnitude of the blast, although, had the pannier attachment clips for the rear rack not succumbed to the blast, the capricious incident could have been avoided altogether.

How To Find Bomb Proof Gear For Your Outdoor Adventure?

Ortlieb Panniers/bicycle bags…these panniers prove out time and time again, they come with a lifetime warranty and replacement parts and clips can be ordered and shipped anywhere in the world. Ortlieb panniers are 100% waterproof, and slightly breathable therefore condensation inside the bag does not become an issue. My attachment clips have come 20,000 kilometers and have only now started to give way. I have mine secured with a back up piece of string in the likely case of other pot hole assignation attempts, replacement clips are also available. My 2 classic small size Ortlieb pannier/bicycle bags cost $220 USD in America. They originate in Germany and are available worldwide, however in Australia and New Zealand the costs can become prohibitive. For world wide locations on where to purchase Ortlieb panniers bicycle bags click here

http://www.ortlieb.com/index2.php?lang=en

Vaude Panniers/bicycle bags are less expensive and have a similar design. They are not as breathable therefore condensation can accumulate in humid climates. This is easy to deal with by opening up the bags at night and airing out the contents more frequently. For more info on where to find vaude panniers click here

http://www.vaude.com/default.html

Handmade handle bar bag on the front is hanging strong, it has come through the winter in New Zealand and the tropics. I have oiled the zipper a few times and that is about it.

Make Your Own Panniers/bicycle bags. Cut the arm straps off of an old backpack, tie to the back rack of the bicycle with rope or a bungee cord and off you go! My third pannier that sits on top of the rack is a light weight Seal To Summit dry bag it cost $28USD in Australia. My front handlebar bag is made from the top of an old backpack that I purchased in Nepal. I strap it on to the handlebars with the webbing that came from the backpack. It cost me next to nothing and works like a charm. For more ideas on how to make panniers/bicycle bags yourself click here

http://www.bicycletouring101.com/BikeDIYPanniers.htm

Mr. Potato Head Comes To Town...How To Find a Cycling Partner

2010-11-28T02:49:00.005+13:00

When a big, fat bald man who looks like a Potato says "hey do you want to join up for a while and pedal through the Middle East and into Africa?" my first thought as a solo female traveler is well Mr. Potato Head always was a fun activity and great company on a rainy afternoon. In the basement as a young little whipper snapper, I used to spend hours making up long traveler's tales of epic journeys about Mr. Potato Head, the optometrist off to smell the world with his huge nose. Monsieur Potato Head when he visited France, would always wear his mustache, formal top hat and scarf and say "oh la la" as the rain cascaded off the basement window cell throughout a long afternoon. Mr Potato Head on a business trip at the international optometrist convention in Singapore would bring his suitcase, extra glasses and stethoscope and wear his travelers cap. Mr Potato Head, an impressive world traveler for such a stout round fella who always seems to wear such uncomfortable shoes. A glorious soul full of nomadic voyeuristic ambition and great company for the solo female traveler. Therefore, Me and Mr. Potato Head, an easily entertained fellow cyclist and avid reader of this website will be joining up and heading through the middle east and into Africa.

How To Find Your Mr Potato Head and Cycling Companion?

On the Road

South-East Asia, the loop of Thailand, Lao, Cambodia and Vietnam is a popular destination for bicycle touring. I met many cyclists there; I shared many a meal and headed north out of Vietnam into China with a fun kiwi fellow that I met on the road.

Mongolia, my favorite country has far more bicycle tourist then you would think. I spent several days camping with some new Italian friends I met cycling through central Mongolia. I also shared cycling maps with two German fellows and spent some time sharing stories with a Spanish man who was pedaling west out of the capital city of Ulanbatar, down the road I had just cycled.

New Zealand, the south Island of New Zealand is such a popular destination for bicycle travel that there is plenty of company here is you want it. My favorite people that I met were a family of bicycle tourists who were towing there super smiley baby in a trailer. The family had come 3000km (1865 miles) by bicycle on their family vacation.

On The Internet

Crazy Guy On a Bike is a website that serves as a resource for bicycle travel. There is a classified section that has a cycling partners section. I have met a few people here. Also, I met people who posted their bicycle travel journals on the site then later while travelling posted 'a looking for other cyclists' request through their journal. They formed a group of seven cyclists to share the costs of permits for the Tibet region.

http://www.crazyguyonabike.com

The Lonely Planet travelers forum has a 'On Your Bike' section dedicated to bicycle travel and up to date information on road conditions. Several people I have met have connected through the forum and pedaled together.

http://www.lonelyplanet.com

How To Crew On A Sailboat and Avoid A Sunshine Enema?

2010-11-22T03:25:00.008+13:00

Hello Mr Lord Hemorrhoid, where IS your neighbor's sailboat? I have been invited to crew on a sailboat heading around the middle east and into Africa, I have pedaled 900km in 7 days plus 2 ferry boats to reach the yacht on Langkawi Island. I was told to hurry. As I stand there next to the yacht owner, I realize I am getting blown off and shoved off without explanation to the neighbor. I do believe someone may have blown sunshine up my ass about this crewing thing, a sunshine enema of sorts that has the personnel growth potential of a inflamed hemorrhoid. Mr Lord Hemorrhoid the boat owner and captain has labeled his group the spirit sailors and they are looking for eclectic/good people to join them and have e-mailed me several times this month about crewing with them. The “spirit sailor” apparently loves the website blah, blah, blah.

As I process the fact that I have now pedaled onto an Island and my plans have been canceled, my behind begins to glow with the stench of a sunshine enema; the sunlight is indeed so bright I radiate effortlessly over to the neighbor’s yacht. He is looking for someone to yacht sit for a few days. The following day, I find out that Mr. Lord Hemorrhoid the spirit sailor didn’t like the looks of me on our first 3 minute meeting. You see, I arrived for the first meeting by bicycle in the pouring rain, I was wet, go figure. Apparently, the silly sailor, Mr. Lord Hemorrhoid flared up and decided he doesn’t like solo female cyclists arriving wet to his sailboat. As the comic irony of Mr. Lord Hemorrhoid the spirit sailor who doesn’t like to get wet sinks in Pandemic The Magic Bicycle is drenched in oil battling the salty air on the neighbors yacht and I am coordinated the pedaling for pennies Be The Adventure Africa T-shirt Project and sorting out my route through the middle east into Africa.

Another one of my favorite hemorrhoids

How to Crew on a Sailboat and Avoid A Sunshine Enema?

Find A Crew is a website dedicated to matching people up. I have met many legitimate, wonderful people who have found crew and boats to crew on through the site. The majority of the yachts, when I sailed from Australia to Indonesia found crew through the site, but as stated above there are a few Mr. Lord Hemorrhoids out there as well.

www.findacrew.net

Cycling Sandals...And the Happily Ever After

2010-11-14T20:46:00.005+13:00

I would like to announce the upcoming matrimonial vows of Ms. Keene Cycling Sandal to Mr. Shimano Cycling Sandal. They will be married on the shores of Pantai Cenang Beach, Malaysia. In attendance will be a Canadian female bicycle tourist and her monkey. They will arrive by magic bicycle to attend the event and will be cloaked in floral bohemian cotton. The monkey will be wearing a Speedo swimsuit, a banana hammock of sorts to remain politely covered amongst the burka clad local Muslim women. Amongst the guests will be topless Swedish sunbathing tourists, Indian Malay parasailing entrepreneurs and local Malay Rastafarians adorned in decade old dreadlocks. Reggae beats unheard of since the heights of the Jamaican music scene in the 80’s will percuss through the shell lined sandy shores of the Andaman sea on Pantai Cenang beach. The menu will consist of $0.40 duty free beers and nasi goreng pedas (spicy fried rice), the local Malay specialty

Ms Keene Cycling Sandal is a delicate poorly constructed sort with a serial bride burnt out glow and a reputation for short marriages with a 3 month longevity. Her faults lie in the foot bed, angle strap and shoddy neoprene lining. Even since finding the perfect therapist and having new and improved angle straps sown in place, she still proves to be too delicate for bicycle touring. This is Ms. Keen Cycling Sandal’s third marriage in 16 months, she hopes by her union to Mr. Shimano Cycling Sandal to escape her serial bride reputation and turn a new pedal in the rolling game of bicycle touring commitments and longevity.

Mr. Shimano Cycling Sandal is the hearty, sturdy type with 3 thick velcro straps and concrete stiff inlaid spd housing, a rock solid masculine bloke with a stiff upper lip and proven longevity amongst bicycle tourists. This is Mr. Shimano’s Cycling Sandals first marriage.

The Canadian female bicyclist and her Speedo clad monkey have high hopes for Mr. Shimano Cycling Sandal’s sturdy commitment and proven longevity. And after 2 failed marriages, Ms. Keene Cycling Sandal could use a strong, sturdy well constructed replacement. Following the ceremonial exchange of vows, Ms Keen Cycling Sandal and Mr. Shimano Cycling Sandal will be honeymooning on a magic bicycle with the Canadian female bicycle tourist and her Speedo clad monkey in the semi arid Middle Eastern plains and the Africa sub-Saharan desert.

And if it doesn't work out this time, there will always be lift out of town.

Dear Spandexers Nov 2, 2010

2010-11-02T23:57:00.006+13:00

Dear Spandexers,

Hello my name is Pandemic The Magic Bicycle. In response to a few people wanting to get to know me, I wanted to step out front confront my shyness and introduce myself. I am a Thorn Raven Touring bicycle. I am a beautiful rain drenched dark green and my frame is made of solid steel. I am tough, mighty and strong and roll all day thanks to my rohloff hub. My rohloff is an internal gear system has 14 gears and in constructed like a clutch and built into the back wheel. I get my oil changed with special light viscosity oil every 5000km.

I don’t have a derailleur to slow me down or get clogged with dirt. My gears change on the fly, fast and with ease which is great for stop and go traffic and steep hills. I am a reliable bicycle for bicycle touring and was purchased because my owner had 7 cars the year she left Alaska and decided to put down the tools and give up tinkering for good.

For more about the rohloff hub click here

http://www.rohloff.de/en/products/speedhub/

I have handmade well constructed wheels. I have never broken a spoke. In fact when I was purchased my owner tried to buy some extra spokes in case mine broke. The man in the bicycle shop laughed and said we build those wheels strong enough for 400 pound men. You won’t need extra spokes, turns out that the wheel builder was right.

In the last year and a half nothing has gone wrong and there has been a minimal of repairs. I have had 4 sets of tires, one new set of brake pads and updated the break cables to high grade steel. My Queens throne, my saddle in which she perchs to see the world is a leather Brooks saddle and my pedals are double sided Shimano spd pedals. My rider wears keen spd cycling sandals and can barely keep them on her feet because they have been repaired many times and are poorly constructed, a disappointment from such a great company such as Keen.

In Ireland at the start of the world journey when my owner was praying a lot about pedaling to Ireland prior to ditching the front panniers and condensing everything into 3 bags on the back.

My rider doesn’t wear spandex, or believe that you need special shoes to go for a hike. She pedals in regular clothes, bohemian cotton shirts, long hiking shorts and has been caught cycling in a skirt. She rides with 2 small Ortlieb panniers, one dry bag lashed to the back rack and a handle bar bag she made out of the top of a backpack. In the panniers are a Vaude Hogan Utra-light tent. However, last week she lost the tent poles and will be looking for new poles. My owner is a big fan of german made gear because it seems to last longest. Rohloff hubb, Vaude tent, Ortlied bicycle bags are all German companies. My tiny owner loves to eat and cooks on a MSR international multi-fuel stove, burns petrol as fuel, eats out of a non-stick pot with a broken handle and chopsticks. Chopsticks are the greatest invention for bicycle touring ever. Chopsticks serve as a fork, knife and stirring utensil. For eating and drinking she drinks and eats from a large tubberware container. Any item that has at least 3 uses has a home in my owners bicycle bags. It sure feels good to introduce myself in great length.

Signed still rolling

Pandemic The Magic Bicycle

Marvel at Melaka, Malaysia Oct., 24th, 2010

2010-10-25T01:40:00.011+13:00

As I pedal into the world heritage city of Melaka, Malaysia my eyes burn not with beauty or ocean salt but with thick smoke particles. Particles that have wafted north through the ocean breeze from Indonesia. The northern blowing tropical wind rustles my thin cotton shirt as I attempt to pedal with my mouth covered into my shirt sleeve. The street lights are blurred, the familiar red stop light appears over head in the opaque burgundy/gray distance as I percuss through a warm, sunny, smoky, thick breeze. I navigate through the quiet streets in search of a guest house of oxygenated standards. The monkeys overhead don't seem to be too concerned about air quality as they walk across the electrical wires in search of the famous Melaka nutritional delicacies. The river squirms through the city amongst tourists and historic malay red roofed houses, lizards the size of dogs bath on the river banks waiting for sun down or the calling hour for some serious lizard activity. Colorful bridges span the river providing locals and tourists with a beautiful walk in and out of China Town. In China town, the weekend crowd of tourists from Singapore, India and the world gather for a weekend street fair. A cavalry of elaborately decorated Rickshaws wait in the distance for the crowd to have their fill of music, food and souvenir shopping. China town in Melaka is a familiar stop for many heading for the Island of Palau Besar. Paulu Besar translated literally as The Big Island is located a short distance from Melaka off of the Malaysia coast.

The island has profound spiritual significance for Indian Muslims who often travel for many miles to visit the numerous prayer alters scattered throughout the island. A place so relaxed that western tourists waft in and out of rested consciousness for weeks amongst friendly locals, coconut grooves and private white sand beaches. A peacefulness only rustled by the thousands of hermit crabs scurrying to and from the ocean tides.

relaxing on the island can take many forms

Tenting It To Tinbucktoo..Top 7 Tent Friendly Places in the World

2010-10-18T20:46:00.008+13:00

As I lay solemnly still amongst sandalwood and camphor trees bugs hiccup in the softness of dusk. Branches bend as monkeys jockey for a position to view the new edition to the forest. Fist size, brown moth tropical butterflies flap their wings as my tent poles jiggle themselves erect into their evening T pose. Giant ants clear a space as I shake my tiny tent into its familiar formation. My tent perches comfortably on a bed on sprinkled leaves and discarded palm hay. Freedom camping or camping in open wild spaces without a soul to see for another evening in the 14^th country on this world journey. Some may say why not stay in the $3 dollar hotel down the street or the ocean view tourist resort with swimming pool only 50 km away.

Being that I have become an international hoboist with bicycle perching my tent in a hidden gem of a Malaysian forest is an embraced opportunity. One of the many shear joys and benefits of pedaling down lonesome roads, rarely visited by tourists.

Last night here in Malaysia on the outskirts of Johor Bahru, I slept under a tree without a tent. Last week I caught some zzz's on a boat in Indonesia. And at this time last year I put my tent with permission in front of a Thai temple. A new stalker turned future cycling partner enjoys sleeping on 3^rd base of the local baseball field (and stalking solo female cyclist but that's another story). Perhaps he is afraid to go home but none the less he continues in his bicycle travels. The notion that a bed is a prerequisite for sleeping is truly not a reality for the majority of the people of the world.

Here is a brief list of countries in which freedom camping is a great option for the outdoor enthusiasts.

Ireland-plenty of beaches and green spaces, many farmers are also open to pitching a tent on their land

Thailand, Lao-most farms and rice plantations have a covered bamboo resting hut used by the public, these places are great for resting

New Zealand-The government of NZ is so supportive of freedom camping that they even publish a free tourist brochure on locations and low impact tips. In addition to the pamphlet the farmers are very friendly and will walk you to the prettiest of places

Nepal-The terrain in the trekking region is on a step slope, however there are places near streams and rivers that a tent can stay tucked out of the way, lots of fresh water and the sound of a trickling brook makes for a great sleep

Indonesia-Over crowding is a big issue here but none the less, Sulawesi, Indonesia has lots of open space on the beach and in the woods. I heard the same is true of Flores, Lombak and Bali as well.

Mongolia-My favorite place, the nomadic country where their locals dwellings are tents (gers). A tent fits in here almost anywhere. You could probability pitch a tent here in the capital city and no one would think much of it. Not sure that's safe but you get the idea about how tent friendly Mongolia is.

Malaysia-My present location and a great surprise. There are undeveloped forest great for tenting throughout the west coast route and last night I saw glow worms and monkeys from the tent door.

The Loogie Launch-Jakarta, Indonesia

2010-10-17T19:04:00.003+13:00

My left calf pulsates as if being eaten by an army of ants, my lower arms radiates with a fume ridden blackening stench, coffee brown grit encapsulates my teeth as I pedal through a battlefield of serenading chaos. I am not alone, far from it, I am crowded in on all sides by a human burr of motorcycle exhaust. I lean over Pandemic The Magic Bicycle's glistening gritty handlebars to scratch the sweaty reddening hives on my arms. I glance down at my calf through the garden of Jakarta smog to the bouquet of pulsating pollution hives that are shocking my claustrophobic legs of oxygen . The traffic light overhead is shaded in by hobbling ailing exhaust. Thoughts of rigor-mortise and Asian standards of air quality pass quickly as the word rigor-mortise lingers in my stop, go, teeter-toterring conscious. I squint my murky blood shot eyes as my brow sags with pond brown perspiration. The middle-aged traffic light triumphantly flickers as I cough forward in a flu of Jakarta motorcycle dust.

As the sickened smog radiates, dust particles blur my vision as I search for the harbor and ferry terminal for a boat to Malaysia. As I squirm throw the claustrophobic mass of people, I feel something wet land on my leg. I look down and I have been hit, not by a truck, car and motorcycle but by a gooey, sticky, yellowish projectile in possession of nauseating capabilities. A loogie the size of Mexico has landed between two hives on my left calf. And, It is hanging on for dear life as I zigzag and swerve Pandemic The Magic Asphyxiated Bicycle through the trafficked crowd of triumphantly proud world renowned Asian loogie launchers.

The population of capital city, Jakarta remains one of the highest in the world. This is due in part to how challenging it is to navigate through the polluted residence and streets and leave this fascinating all be densely, polluted, populated city of millions. My boat connections from the pornographic jungles of Borneo canceled, an ocean and ailing visa time have forced me into Jakarta.

I emerge baptized by loogies and arrive at the ferry boat to Malaysia. The soat and hives from the urban adventure have tangled themselves into a puzzle of rash, hives, loogies and brown city slim, a sudoko puzzle of urban planning complexities. I decide to rinse my legs and arms in fresh dirty water and bust loose on the Muslim dress code and expose my full arms and legs from the knees down to the ocean air. I am now siting on the ferry boat on the open deck, on top of my camping sleeping pad, tucked under the stairs and while whipping a brown pudding like substance from my face I watch a freshly rinsed dancing bravado of hives and a chorus suitable only for the Sudoko Broadway of smog.

On My Way By Bicycle Ambulance To A Dream

2010-10-12T19:11:00.001+13:00

Over the next 6 months, as I continue to round the world by bicycle, I am presently pedaling from Cambodia, Asia to Africa via Laos, China, Kazakhstan, and Russia crossing the Black Sea and pedaling through Turkey and then catching a boat into Africa. The dream is not about cycling there, for after 21 months of pedaling, 14 countries and a whole lot a bicycle miles already, Pandemic The Magic Bicycle and my legs have proven to be such trusty steeds that with a little hope and faith, I will arrive by magic bicycle in Africa sometime in the early summer. However, as the embryo of the dream develops in the near future into a fetus, the developing dream will span across 3 continents and 7 countries.

The dream? It is to raise awareness and funds for bicycle ambulances in rural Africa throughout my 6,000 mile pedaling voyage to get there. A what? That’s right, a bicycle ambulance. In rural Africa, the people are so inventive and spirited, that a bicycle is truly saving lives. In countries throughout sub-Sahara Africa, bicycles with attached stretchers are being used to transport birthing mothers and the sick to the nearest hospital. In rural Malawi, often the closest hospital is 30 kilometers (about 20 miles) away. The surrounding villages lack funds for vehicles and without adequate medical resources women and babies are dying in childbirth at alarming rates. With the UN pledge of reducing child mortality rates by ½ this century the rural villages of Namibia, Malawi, South Africa, Uganda are in need of bicycle ambulances to safely transport birthing mothers and the sick to nearby hospitals. A bicycle ambulance costs about $500USD, they are being built locally, a facility in Namibia has already provided 55 to Namibian villages, in those regions the woman and child mortality rates have been drastically reduced. In most of sub-Sahara Africa, there is a severe shortage of doctors and proper medical facilities. Often a woman in the village serves as a midwife, babies are frequently delivered in a hut on a dirt floor without medical supplies, a mere 30 miles from the hospital.

Adequate transportation to the hospital is often needed due to infection and other complications. The 20-30 miles of terrain between village and hospital is dirt track roads; it is perfect terrain for the bicycle ambulance. And African legs are proving to be perfect for the job.

The sturdy construction of the bicycle ambulance holds up better to the rugged terrain then other modes of transportation. Some bicycle ambulances are mobile stretchers; others are bicycles with portable beds and a canopy roof. The villages that already use a bicycle ambulance have reduced their infant and woman mortality rates by 90%. Therefore, I will be dedicating the next leg of my around the world by bicycle adventure to raising awareness and funds for a bicycle ambulance that will be given to the local midwife through a partnership with the local NGO…

How can I support this?

· Pass The Hat, donate a couple of dollars through the hat donate button on the website, www.skalatitude.com. I have over 300 Facebook friends, over 100 Twitter followers, a couple hundred e-mail contacts and 7000 people have read the website. If every one of these people threw a buck or euro in the hat that would equal more than one bicycle ambulance. And if each one of these people passed the hat at work, school, meetings and each one these people passed the hat…well you get the idea

· Not up for tossing a buck in the hat? You can always help spread the word. Forward this as an e-mail to your contacts, tell your Facebook friends, share it on Twitter, talk about it on Skype

· Buy a Be The Adventure T-shirt through www.skalatitude.com, for any donation of $20USD or more, you get a cool custom designed logo T-shirt in white or black shipped for free to anywhere in the world, proceeds go towards the purchase of the bicycle ambulance

· Shop at amazon.com through the webpage www.skalatitude.com. It doesn’t cost you anything extra to shop at amazon.com through the webpage and the small percentage I receive goes towards buying a bicycle ambulance

· Tell Oprah, just kidding…but hey dare to dream right?

A huge thank you to everyone who have already purchased a Be The Adventure t-shirt and donated towards a bicycle ambulance, for a list of featured fans visit www.skalatitude.com. A special thanks to my ultra supportive Dad for shipping them out of his basement for me while I am out pedaling to Africa.

Thanking You In Advance

Loretta Henderson

www.skalatitude.com

Porn Star

2010-10-06T17:58:00.004+13:00

The majestic jungles of Borneo, a lush tropical paradise freckled with banana plants, the sounds of tropical birds enlighten my ear drums with each push of the pedal. Dancing monkeys dart from tree to tree through the surrounding rain forest as I coast through paradise. Orangutans cackle as Pandemic The Magic Bicycle effortlessly floats through a lush tropical cool breeze. A serendipitous exotic collage of flora and fauna for 500 beautiful kilometers up the Eastern coast of Borneo . Before I get too far into never never land I think it’s time to wake up and smell the skeevy pervert for today I was mistaken for a porn star.

Back in reality where little boys don’t fly, bike touring up the east coast of Borneo has become comically shitty. Today, while pushing Pandemic up a mountain, gradient a quazillion, in near death tropical sun on a heavily trafficked road that I am positive that some sadistic lunatic must of built, I decide to take a water break. I am sitting inside a barbeque in the middle of nowhere, staring at endless acres of annihilated sad rainforest some of which is on fire. As the smoke clears, I am pondering why there isn’t any information on the internet about bike touring these mountainous parts and realize right then and there, sitting and laughing on a broken wooden bench in Barbequeville, Borneo, that it is probably because it is a magnum size bad idea to bike tour here.

A man stops his grieving industrial dirt truck as I am pondering away, he goes for an Emmy away winning performance and pretends he is checking the undercarriage of the truck and comes over and sits too close to me. I say hello, he hears my music coming from my pocket so I show him my music player and flip through a few tunes. He then shows me his music and video player on his phone. He shows me a excerpt of a porn video. He is positive that I am a porn star and must make movies and wants to know if I would like to do the same things that are on the video with him. It certainly doesn’t happen everyday that I am mistaken for a porn star. And as much as I am flattered, I quickly decline and leave in a big hurry to continue pushing a loaded bicycle up a mountain like a retarded porn star cyclist with my 3rd degree sunburned arms baffled by the image of really bad porn.

I pause, pedal and push on for 96 km into Sangatta to catch a boat deep into The National park and away from skeevey perverts to see some orangutans. The information I have is incorrect, there are no boats not even for porn stars and the river only access into the park is only one ridiculous mountain away in the direction that I just came from somewhere near the squeevey pervert. My visa is running thin and the border between Indonesia, Borneo and Malaysia, Borneo is through slow boat access only so I am happy to soon be getting off the loudest, craziest, road I have cycled yet. Fortunately, orangutans don’t need visas or watch porn and there will be plenty of orangutans on the Malaysian side of Borneo to see later. And if all goes well in orangutan land on that special day there will be some orangutan porn for me to watch, after all, even porn stars need company once in a while.

Porn Star In Borneo

Porn Star

2010-10-06T16:59:00.004+13:00

The majestic jungles of Borneo, a lush tropical paradise freckled with banana plants, the sounds of tropical birds enlighten my ear drums with each push of the pedal. Dancing monkeys dart from tree to tree through the surrounding rain forest as I coast through paradise. Orangutans cackle as Pandemic The Magic Bicycle effortlessly floats through a lush tropical cool breeze. A serendipitous exotic collage of flora and fauna for 900 beautiful kilometers up the Eastern coast of Borneo . Before I get too far into never never land I think it’s time to wake up and smell the skeevy pervert for today I was mistaken for a porn star.

I pause, pedal and push on for 96 km to catch a boat deep into The National park and away from skeevey perverts to see some orangutans. The information I have is incorrect, there are no boats not even for porn stars and the river only access into the park is only one ridiculous mountain away in the direction that I just came from somewhere near the squeevey pervert. My visa is running thin and the border between Indonesia, Borneo and Malaysia, Borneo is through slow boat access only so I am happy to soon be getting off the loudest, craziest, road I have cycled yet. Fortunately, orangutans don’t need visas or watch porn and there will be plenty of orangutans on the Malaysian side of Borneo to see later. And if all goes well in orangutan land on that special day there will be some orangutan porn for me to watch, after all, even porn stars need company once in a while.

After 96 km, Porn Star Hitch Hiking the Final kms

GO! Travelling Motivations To get You Out The Door

2010-09-28T17:30:00.003+13:00

Prior to embarking on this world adventure I sat in my cabin in Alaska pondering all the reasons why I shouldn’t GO. The pondering session lasted 5 years. I pondered my way to Ponderossa and back before I was finally ready to GO.

The thought of not being able to financially afford it lingered like the stench of cooked bacon in the center of my cabin for quite some time. Today, I got out my calculator and did some math. In the last month, my daily expenses here in Indonesia have been $8.56/day. These expenses encompassed total costs for hotels, camping, bottled water, visas, stove fuel, laundry soap, shampoo, insect repellent, SPD shoe repairs, groceries, restaurants, a ferry to Borneo and an expensive coke-cola consumption problem. That’s $8.56 a day, that’s less then I would spend at home and at those costs how can you afford not to GO.

I thought I was too old to travel. Now the funny thing about that is that 5 years later I still wanted to GO and the only thing that had changed was I was then 5 years older. I have since met a 70 year old French man cycling SE east Asia averaging 200km a day and doubling my daily distances. Another remarkable women I met is Jill, a 71 year old kiwi women trekking her way through the Himalayan Mountains in Nepal. I asked Jill about hiring a porter to carry her backpack like the 20 something year old crowd was doing, she laughed and said why would I want a man following me around all day. Jill trekked for 3 weeks and the last I saw her she was climbing the final leg of her adventure to a village at 4000 meters in the Mt Everest range carrying her huge backpack. You GO girl!

I have a house and responsibilities. Here’s where the pondering to Ponderossa thoughts lost their bearings. At the moldy age of 36, I had bought land, paid it off, learned carpentry and built myself a house. I had a boyfriend who was far too easy to part with, my friends and family and a good paying job that I didn’t realize I hated. My favorite person who I have been lucky to have known is my grand-ma, my Gram. My gram traveled until she was 90 and one day while on her way to a senior’s bus trip from Canada to America she said every day I wake up and say thank you for one more day and then I get off my duff and do something. When she reflected upon her life, she remembered with the biggest smile, her 2 around the world trips in the 70s she took with my grand-pa, the time she spent at her cottage and her daughter. So the question is when you are sitting in your rocky chair at 90 reflecting upon your life what will YOU remember?

Hasta La VISA Baby...How to get a Travel Visa

2010-09-26T19:07:00.000+13:00

Bureaucracy moves at a glacial pace, the tourist visa stamp floats like a retreating ice berg in the luke warm administrative waters. The long desired tourist visa , the monopoly card, the terminator or determinator of forward travel. A little stamp or sticker, a you may now pass go card posted in my passport in the monopoly travel game of life.

As the icebergs melt and the arctic warms another visa is achieved, this time thanks to the assistance of the unofficial Indonesian tourist visa extension coordinator, a hairdresser/hotel manager I met last week.

With the mind baffling complexity of meta-physics, variable rules and conditions apply to visa politics in every country. For instance, the hairdresser/hotel manager I met last week became my Indonesian sponsor. A local Indonesian “friend” is required to sign off on all Indonesian visa paperwork. A fee is charged for this service and then my hairdresser/hotel manger sponsor then pays an additional “fee” on my behalf to the visa office. I receive my pass go card, a blue stamp in my passport, half the Indonesian population stays employed for my efforts and the pulp and paper industry is down another tree.

In China, I made way for the bureaucratic glacier to float on by me without incident by simply rolling Pandemic The Visa Gett’in Magic Bicycle into the Chinese consulate office in Luaprabang, Loa, (visas can be obtained in major cities in neighboring countries). As Pandemic sparkled with all her charm in the back of the visa office, I smiled with the strength of 36 spokes and scored a 4 month double-entry (two visits) Chinese visa instead of the standard 15 day visa. Pandemic was all about it, we REALLY wanted a visa long enough to pedal from Vietnam to Mongolia, through China and then roll back through China, sneak through Tibet and go ice climbing in Nepal. (Pro-tip/ the word Tibet is considered blasphemous in the Chinese visa office and will result in not receiving the pass go card, magic bicycles are allowed). I handed the “official” Chinese official a hand written 4 page destinations list of Chinese villages on the east coast, a long way away from Tibet that I wanted to pedal through and assured him that I LOVE CHINA. In reality, the best thing about China is that it is attached to Mongolia but when given the opportunity to feed China’s ego it is best to smile hard and start cooking Chinese dumplings. In summary, three tips on getting a tourist travel visa

Tip 1-Issuing a visa can be a lengthy affair, ranging from immediately to 3-10 days, so plan ahead

Tip 2-Visas can be issued on arrival by plane, at home before you leave at the consulate, in major cities in neighboring countries or at land crossings by bus or bicycle

Tip 3-It doesn’t hurt to bring a magic bicycle to the visa office

Click here for specific visa regulations for all the countries of the world

http://projectvisa.com/

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Where The Big Girls Go, Tips For A Nutritious Holiday (with/without your bicycle)

2010-09-24T02:24:00.003+12:00

We all have heard of all the great counties in which to eat, Italy, Spain and France quickly come to mind but what happens when you are on the road and the menu consists of really bizarre palette baffling options? I have eaten soup loaded with floating chicken heads in Loa, something I think must have been horse balls in Mongolia and accidentally scarfed down some dog in Vietnam, may doggie heaven save my soul. In Thailand, fried bugs are the delicacy of the locals, they come fried or boiled and taste just like popcorn if you close your eyes. And in central Asia fermented horse milk is a unique beverage option.

While traveling getting enough likable things to eat can become a huge challenge. I am as guilty as the next to skipping too many meals and scarfing down a Coke Cola instead. I prefer it to fermented horse milk but hey that's just me. Depending on the country and what's on the menu weight fluctuation is common while on a holiday. The math equation is pretty simple really. As long as you are expending more then you are putting in your body you are probably not going to gain much weight.

Now we all know that exercise burns calories. And most people I have met assume that in order to travel by bicycle or hike that trail mad calories must be consumed. I grew myself a belly in New Zealand while contemplating this theory as I consumed ridiculous amounts of their famous French fries. However, it is important to note that cycling does burn a lot of calories but cycling doesn't do much for your core body (torso). Which means it is quite possible to grow yourself muscular tree stump thighs and a flabby giggly belly while pedaling away day after day. I have been pedaling most days for the last year and a half and as much as I miss my Alaska wood chopping arms and stiff belly I wouldn't trade my eating adventures to have those things back. Maintaining a healthy diet and choosing the right calories is always the optimal goal. Now I don't know what the caloric value of bugs or horse balls is but I am sure that if I would of located a salad, it would have been a better choice. Here is a link to 8 great ways to make sure you will never become super sized and have to buy a bigger McBicycle

http://www.womenscycling.ca/blog/health-tips/weight-loss-for-spring-cycling/

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Check Out Her Ass...Top 3 Tips for The Solo Female Traveler

2010-09-19T22:36:00.011+12:00

At least 100 times a day someone on the street double looks and even triple looks as I pedal by. I have tested the voyeuristic market here in Indonesia and warn short sleeves, long sleeves, short pants, hats, scarfs on my head and one day even tried to dress like a boy. None of these efforts make a difference to the attention level a solo women traveler can receive. By mid-day, I sometimes feel like a mutant not a Madonna by all the attention. The attention ranges from a intense I just saw a martian look to a hello in English, Spanish or French to the outright racial word in Indonesian for whitey/foreigner.

Tip one for the solo female traveler in Asia is to expect attention, lots of it and figure out YOUR best approach. The options range from ignoring the cat calls, diverting your eyes to wearing sunglasses. I prefer to join in the feline chorus and meow right back. In many remote villages they don't get a lot of foreign visitors so I usually say hello right back to everyone or at least the first 50. I usually respond in the local language hello I am a misses. The word tourist in Indonesian is masculine so everyone says hi mister. Due to the wide spread love of Michael Jackson I sometimes add hello I am misses and I like Michael Jackson. A basic Michael Jackson number #1 conversation can usually be mustered up with most people. And if that doesn't work the moon dance is entertaining and doesn't require any language. It is important to note that the attention is completely harmless just don't let it do your head in and find a quit place to regroup at times if the attention gets to be a bit much.

Tip two for the solo female traveler, myths exist all over the world concerning women and men too for that matter. As a solo female traveler, I have been asked if I like taking my clothes off in the sun and letting my skin go red, if I drink whiskey and in Australia I was mistaken for a prostitute and was asked if I was working and what I charge. I walked away laughing so hard I thought I might pee my pants. I was wearing dirty shorts fresh from the tent floor, a ripped hippie hat and clearly hadn't showered since college. A fashion myth buster right there on the street corner.

However, some of the stereotypes and myths are warranted because many foreigners flock to the popular beaches of Thailand, Malaysia, India and Indonesia in bikinis to visit the sun. I have nothing against the bikini and own a few (pro-tip/a bikini string is the best bungee robe to lash things to a bicycle rack) but in countries where women are swimming in their long sleeved clothes and local men have hardly ever seen them naked, perhaps as western women we should follow suit of the local culture and fashion. After all, if I farted in Japan where farting is a compliment, I would enjoy the new experience of not excusing myself at the dinner table. Therefore, If you want to wear the g-string bikini there are great clothing optional beaches in Southern Spain, Spanish men are hot and the Mediterranean sea region is truly beautiful.

Tip three for the solo female traveler, there are lots of restaurants, hotels and shops that are operated by women, often by a mother/daughter and her daughter team. In areas ,where I am sticking out like a sore thumb, I naturally float to the company of women. The only times I have ever been asked about drinking whiskey and taking off my clothes is when I accidentally walked in to a room full of drunk men playing cards. On the same token some of the best directions I have ever been given have been late night by sober men. So perhaps the lesson there is never get directions from drunk men in any country. Another myth that may or not prove true!

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Flying With Your Bicycle...3.2.1...Blast Off!

2010-09-18T18:40:00.012+12:00

I pedal up to the airport, the panniers/bicycle bags are stuffed full and ready to head off on the much anticipated bicycle tour. I cycle into the airport and hand my bicycle off to the airline personnel for loading onto the plane. Well in many Asia countries that is what you do. Cycle on up and check in the bicycle as luggage. No fuss about a bike box, or dismantling the bicycle. The bicycle gets rolled off the plane at the other end and since it is clearly visible to the airline personnel that it is easier to roll the bicycle then carry it, your bicycle arrives hand delivered unharmed from the journey. Air Asia should really be renamed Air Bicycle Utopia.

I have been asked many times what it costs to fly with a bicycle and with the restrictions placed on airlines in the last few years most people assume it is a spendy affair. But if you pick the right airline it probably won't cost a thing. A good general rule of thumb is any non-US based airline is usually most supportive of bicycle travel. Most bicycle supportive airlines will allow each passenger with a total baggage allowance regardless of luggage dimensions or the contents of your luggage. Some airlines will charge extra if you mention sporting goods. However, for some, sporting goods means lipstick, heels and condoms and for others it means bicycles. It is important to choose airlines that support all types of sporting events.

I flew with Air New Zealand from America to New Zealand and the bicycle was free because my total belongings came under the maximum weight. From Ireland to Bangkok I flew with Air Emirates and the bicycle was free, granted I packed the bicycle box to the maximum weight allowed and carried one pannier with me. The pannier I carried weighed as much as the bicycle. Everything that I could get through security I squashed into the one carry on pannier. How great it is that rarely do airlines actually weight your carry on. At the check-in counter, I usually put my carry on near my feet out of site so it becomes a non-discussed matter.

Bike Box: In the Dublin, Ireland airport I couldn't get the pedals off the bicycle and bent my wrench in half trying. I eventually decided to rip the sides of the box and allow the pedals to stick out like mickey mouse ears. I dragged the just been to Euro Disney bicycle box to the counter, smiled and checked it onto the plane. The women looked at it and said is that secured? I looked down at the Disney bicycle box, lashed tight with a bikini strap, old bungee cord and a roll of tape, with the pedals protruding out the sides and said yes that's secure, yep, sure is!

Below is a link to a list of guidelines for 70 airlines. Scroll to the bottom of the articles to see the airline list. Also check your airlines web page for any changes. Bicycles can usually be found under special baggage or sporting goods.

http://www.ibike.org/encouragement/travel/bagregs.htm

Hungry Hungry Hippo…Let The Eating Begin

2010-09-09T17:18:00.007+12:00

As Pandemic The Magic Bicycle pedals out of the mountainous indigenous region of Tana Toronja I am reminded of the elevation and begin to descend 200km back into the Muslim villages of Sulawesi, Indonesia. A remarkably curvey 2 day downhill will certainly keep a woman on a bicycle with a windswept smile.

In these final days of Ramadan everyone is out on the road travelling to be with family. The traffic as I approach Parepare, the ocean side community, is gaining in madness, at last count an average of 47 VPH’s, or vehicles per hour. However, I am not alone in the slow lane, men on rickshaws and cow drawn carts join the highway of travelers. The motorists, motorcycles, trucks and buses are speeding along and swerve around the slower traffic with the professionalism of Mario Andretti. The noise is horrendous, the honking bellows in my ears as my stomach sings for the end of Ramadam.

Tomorrow marks the holiday of Eid ul-Fitr, the new moon and the end of the fasting period of Ramadan. Eid ul-Fitr literally means the Festival of Breaking the Fast. Food is donated to the poor, everyone puts on their best or new clothes and communal prayers are held in the early morning, followed by feasting and visiting relatives and friends. Praying is expected only twice on this day instead of the obligatory five daily prayers.

More info about Eid ul Fitr and Ramadam click here
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eid_ul-Fitr

Traditional foods prepared for the feast include sweet bright green gelatin “tortillas” warped around brown bananas served with sweetened condensed milk, ice cubes and pink gelatin floaties, a treat sweet enough to upset a dentist. Other yummy treats include sweat pink or yellow gelatin chunks floating in water, pineapple juice and pink sweat cream and cocunut rice serves in palm leaves bundles. Although the food in Indonesia is simple, farm fresh and natural they are not without their fair share of brightly colored food additives. And, although I am not Muslim, I am definitely hungry and the opening of restaurants, street food stalls and food shops will certainly be a welcome addition to my waistline after cycling for over 1000km on a near empty stomach.

Life Is a Parade

2010-09-06T21:17:00.007+12:00

The beautiful red arch way is a burial site

Pandemic The Magic Bicycle, like an old Volkswagen beetle chugging away on fumes on a warm humid day, cycles up a 40 kilometer hill in the central mountain range. At a steady 10km an hour, for 4 hours we climb, climb, climb like a snake swirling though the dry arid sand. And with a long awaiting gust descend 9km light and fast with relief as if we had lost a layer of skin to climb again for an hour(11km) to finally arrive to the hill side village on Rantepoa in The Tana Toraja area of Sulawesi, Indonesia.

Pig on it's way to his role in the ceremony

The contours of the mountains are as green as a tulip peddles. The hills are accented by colorful arching buildings that are beautiful decorated ritual burial sites. Arches that open upward with arms open to the beauty that surrounds the hill side. The folks in this region despite Christian missionizing have held strong to their traditional spiritual beliefs of animism; an ancient earth based shamanic religion that pre-dates Christianity. The center piece and focus of life here is the death ceremony, a 5 day festival of life, each day celebrating a new rite of passage into the afterlife.

The following morning after a long sleep I cycle out of town through the surrounding villages in the Tana Torajo region. As I stand at a cross roads straddling Pandemic The Magic Bicycle, bewildered, staring at a fading hand written map, a man stops on his motorcycle and stretches out his hand and says me chief, funeral ceremony and points down an intensely rocky dirt “road”. When the chief of an indigenous village in the middle of Indonesia invites you to his home to celebrate the focus of his life it is always best to smile, say thank-you and follow. So I did and bounced down the most unsuitable road for a bicycle, smiling so hard I thought my ears might break.

Ancestoral burial site of the very rich or magical

As I pedaled through the large brilliant multi-colored arch I am greeted by a bellowing of drums, chanting and music pumping through loudspeakers that appear to be mounted onto any piece of bamboo strong enough to bear the weight. A large crowd is gathered under several traditionally hand painted archways on a soft muddy grassy knoll that has seen its fair share of parades. Pigs are squealing as men carry them off lashed by their legs to sticks. They are being prepared for their role in the celebration.

Men and women, the frail, the elderly and the young are dressed in traditional golden threaded garments that sparkle with a well sewn festive charm. They are holding a long red cloth banner in the air, with arms stretched high they march, dance, parade and sing. They are the family of the deceased women and they are taking her spirit through the village for her last time to all her favorite places. A paper mache replica of the women is seated in a chair; she is being carried in the air by her young male family members. The sacrificial buffalo that end the week long celebration are the caboose. Their horns are adorned in silky red and yellow golden cloth; they follow in sequence through the excited streets.

Upon the mourners return to the grassy knoll, the replica of the women is paraded up several wooden stairs to her final resting place, a wooden arched tomb that sits on stilts above the village. The family although in morning is celebrating, they continue to sing, laugh and cheer. As the music drifts from the air, I exit under the village gate, and continue to pedal south pondering if National Geographic may of seen such a thing.