donate home previous entries where is rob now? about rob the route the reason the trike the charities donors sponsors gear list FAQ's media resources gallery reader contributions links technical support contacts RSS feed donate

I woke up. Got Ditch suited and booted and made a move for the door. It was still cold, but it was a lovely morning. I got my kitchen ready and began preparations for breakfast.



First though a nice hot chocolate. Pouring the water into my pan was like pouring oil out of a jug. The water was just at the transient state between liquid and ice. My chemistry lessons on specific heat capacities sprang to mind as I made ready with the coco.

I'm not sure why all cyclists seem to carry instant noodles. It seems ridiculous to me, but no doubt I'm missing something. Instant noodles have got about as much nutrients and health in them as pocket fluff. Instead I'm carrying a selection of quality noodles packed tightly into two airtight Tupperware boxes.



They cook in 3 minutes and are really tasty. Perhaps this is what everyone else carries, but I got the impression that cyclists carry the super light weight ones.. you know the cup noodle variety. Perhaps that is the point. Light weight. Mine are as heavy as lead.... taste great though. I've also got a selection of condiments and added tit bits. Tea eggs, Chinese pickles, chili, pepper, sardines, chicken stock and a few sneaky preserved sausages hidden for later.





Meal time is good. Ditch gets a pedigree chum sachet mixed with biscuits and some hot sauce from my noodles. Whilst I got breakfast ready, Ditch was off waddling around like a clock work toy in a suit that's too big for her. Pictures later.

The soft muddy floor had transformed into a frozen layer with deep cracks like those you'd find in an Africa village during a draught. My hot drink was soon cold even when stored in my flask. Its about as useful as a reinforced carrier bag. Keeping things warm is going to be tough.....A good flask is a must. Mine was supposed to be.

Packing up was like punching under water. The cold just makes me want to leave all my bags behind and push on with nothing but a smile. I think my body is rebelling, Ditch would to, but she knows that I'm carrying a big bag of food in one of the panniers. Wheelie was not that far away up the slope but I'd managed to open every bag and systematically scatter the contents everywhere. It was chilly and I wasn't that enthusiastic to get going. A cup of tea perhaps..... that should sort me out.



It was still really windy, this time coming straight at me. A bitter northerly wind. Progress was slow. the hills continued and the wind was relentless. Was the old dinosaur right ?....... I'll never give in.

The landscape was wide and barren. with dead shrubs covering the brown hill sides.













There were no changes of colour, only changes in the tone of brown, with the blue sky acting as a contrasting backdrop. It was beautiful and I pedaled on under a sun that was fighting a losing battle. As long as there is the odd day with a bit of sun and little wind I can continue this battle.

My toes are constantly cold when riding. The boots work a treat when I walk around, but when in a horizontal position all the blood vacates my digits and they become little pale pink ice cubes. What to do ? I've prided myself the whole journey that I have never pushed wheelie up a hill. I've always pedalled. Now though I have been forced to suffer the shame of doing it. Its the only way to keep the blood flowing. Its not that its so cold that they are going to drop off, but the temperature is below freezing so in theory, my toes with no blood in them could easily make auditions for characters in a sleeping dead movie. Its difficult to know how they are though as you just can't feel them.



The rivers have begun to freeze, every kilometer North I pedal, I notice how the climate is changing, how the landscape is shutting down. Wish I was going south. I'd have tail wind too. The journey is very pleasant though and I feel very peaceful as I slowly pedal, listening to leaves skipping across the floor like cheeky sprites. They also act as a warning to the sudden gusts of wind that live in these parts. Ones that can stop you dead in your tracks, and fill you eye balls up with dust.



I found a great camping spot near a village, over looking a huge valley surrounded by mountains. The evening was not that cold so I enjoyed the luxury of a relaxed meal and a hot cup of coffee. The moon was bright and made for a perfect night light.











I think specialised camping gear is a rip off. All you need to do is go to your local fabric shop, buy some quality thick fake fur and glue it to your body. None of this balaclava, gloves and toe warmer business. Back to nature. Synthetic fury nature.

I'm sure there are some miserable days / weeks ahead. I'll see some stunning scenery, I just only hope that I'm not too cold to appreciate it. What am I saying.. Of course I'll enjoy it.

Get an email when Rob posts an entry:

Comments:

 

You must log in to leave a comment.