From Anchorage to Ushuaia by Bike

Mountains and traditions (by Sébastien)

Since leaving Quito, we have been winding our way through the mountains, and almost every day we climb slopes of more than 3000 m (check out the most recent statistics!). We set another altitude record: 3620 m! We crossed the Avenue of the Volcanoes, and although Cotopaxi stayed hidden, we had several chances to marvel at Chimborazo (6310 m). In rain or shine, the landscapes are stunning. Around every bend in the road was a new and magnificent view.

We have biked through some very rural areas where the people survive on small scale subsistence farming, eked out on their little patches of land. They are for the most part indigenous people, and almost all wear traditional clothing. 

The only downside of the past couple of days has been the pollution – atmospheric this time! The ditches by the side of the road are a little cleaner (or rather a little less dirty!) than in Mexico or Central America, but the vehicles here produce a lot more exhaust fumes. The buses and trucks are the worst, but the cars are pretty bad too. We’ve noticed a big difference from country to country in the levels of air pollution. Until now, we thought that Guatemala was the heaviest polluter, but it seems that Equator takes that honour. Every vehicle that passes us leaves us suffocating in a black cloud of putrid and noxious fumes. By the end of the day, our clothes reek of pollution, as much as if we had been biking through Paris. We were trying to think of an explanation for this discrepancy between countries, and we think it might be the level of refinement of the fuel. Diesel here costs only $1.03/gallon (less than 30 cents a litre) and so it just can’t be very high quality.

A run-in with the bus (by Sara)

We left Guamote in the morning, planning to make it to Chunchi that night. But the sign just outside the town read 75 km away. We checked the map, and the discrepancy between them made us nervous. It seemed like too much to cover in one day, especially since it was mostly uphill and Sara was not feeling well: the cold she caught seemed here to stay. We managed to get to Alausi, where Angelo called out to us, in English. We quickly rectified his mistake: we’re French, not American. Since we started biking through the small mountain towns, we’re back to being called “gringo” and “gringa” – and we are not so pleased!

During the course of our conversation with him, we told him that we didn’t really appreciate being called names by the locals, and he seemed totally surprised. We tried to find a good comparison and discovered that what really annoys an Equatorian is being mistaken for a Colombian! There were two women sitting on the sidewalk and so we explained to them that being called a “gringo” was like being called a “Colombian” for them. They jumped up so fast they nearly banged their heads on the bus stop sign above them!! Now we have a little “insurance” against those who call us “gringos”!

We absolutely had to get to Chunchi that night and so Angelo negotiated with the passing bus drivers to get them to take us and our bikes the rest of the way. The first driver refused, but the second agreed to take us, happy to help the travellers... especially since the official story is that we started our trip in Quito and are biking to Lima, Peru. We thought this might make us seem less conspicuous and less affluent but we’re not entirely sure it’s working. Anyway, the bikes were hoisted up onto the roof of the Chicken bus, where they ended up with best view as we climbed up the last 39 km without ever getting out of breath!

Tire troubles (by Sara)

We’re going downhill; Sara is in front. All the sudden, Sébastien notices that her back tire is a little distended in one area. When we take a closer look, we see that the structure of the whole tire is damaged and that it might rupture at any time which could seriously damage the wheel frame. So we decide to change the tire. Sara’s family brought us a spare tire in Costa Rica, and so we put that one on the back wheel, for the moment. But the next time we had a rest day, we switched the two tires, putting the newer one on the front wheel. When biking, the back wheel ends up with more wear and tear since it supports most of the weight, traction, and braking. So it’s best to move the less worn tires from the front wheel to the back wheel to get the most use out of them, and put the new tires on the front. What a system!

All for the tourist (by Sara)

The inhabitants of Equator have come to understand that tourists can be useful, and that their money is a great source of income for the country. So, in most little villages there is at least one hotel that, in principle, has hot water. Unfortunately, that’s not always the case in practice, and we have certainly taken some very speedy cold mountain showers! And of course, some of the hotels only have water at certain times of the day (or night). The last one like that only had water between 7 pm and 5 am! And, how are we supposed to brush our teeth or flush the toilet?

There is usually a little restaurant in the village, frequented by tourists and locals alike. They have set menus for “desayuno” (breakfast), “almuerzo” (lunch), and “merienda” (dinner). It’s usually a full meal, complete with soup, a main, and a drink, all for just $1 or $2! And there are also internet cafés and cabinas (like internet cafés, but with telephones instead of computers). Naturally, the internet is of variable speed, or rather of variable slowness. But at least there are lots of options if one doesn’t work.

A little trip through the islands (by Sara)

The whole Efren’s family (from the network hospitalityclub.org) is waiting for us in Cuenca, and if we seem overly eager to arrive there, it is also because we have a trip planned. The trip is outside the framework of the Association Planète Durable et Solidaire, and it’s pretty much our honeymoon and one-year anniversary trip all rolled into one. And being in Equator, we couldn’t very well not go to the Galapagos Islands!! We’re flying out Monday morning (Efren will keep our bikes and our gear) and we’re staying on the islands for eight days!

Our worst enemy on four legs… can you guess what it is? (by Sara)

Some of you have warned us about swine flu, but no, it’s not the pig (and anyway, there haven’t been any confirmed cases of Equator, a fact that they are very proud of).

You might think of bird flu, but no, it isn’t the chickens that frolic by the side of the road – and besides, they only have two legs!

Mad cow disease, perhaps, but no, neither the bovine nor the ovine that graze by the side of the road trouble us much.

Can you figure it out yet? Here’s a clue: it’s the animal that they call “man’s best friend,” and also “the cyclist’s worst enemy:” the dog!

Every domesticated dog we see goes crazy when we bike by (the ones who were abandoned all run away from us). They bark and strain at their leash – if we are lucky enough that they are actually tied up – or else they find a hole in the fence and tear after us. Sara got a real fright from a medium-sized grey dog who was sleeping peacefully in the courtyard of a farm. She had barely passed the gate when the dog leapt up in pursuit. Sara lifted up her legs, and furious dog attached itself with its teeth to the strap of her pannier. Eventually it figured out that it wasn’t worth the effort and let her go. Sébastien too had a serious run-in with a dog who leapt up on the bike. He nearly went over and certainly swore a blue streak. Most recently, two young children were playing with their dog in what seemed to be an enclosed yard. When we went by, however, the dog went right through the fence! We both got off our bikes so we could put them between us and the animal. We stopped walking and yelled at the dog, but it wouldn’t stop barking and moving towards us. We couldn’t even back up without him attacking us. Hearing our yells, an older child came out of the house and grabbed the dog, who earned a few smacks from the two small children back in the yard.

These incidents are pretty upsetting, since even though we got the rabies vaccine before we left, if we did get bitten, we would still have to get an antidote. And the animals here, even the pets, don’t get vaccinated and aren’t really taken care of. They pretty much just fend for themselves. It’s certainly a far cry from the attention that house pets get in France. 

Open call for ideas (by Sara)

In order to protect ourselves from the dogs, we have a “dog-repeller.” It’s a little electronic device that emits ultrasonic frequencies that only dogs can hear and that bothers them so that, at least in theory, they leave us alone. Unfortunately, it’s not fool-proof, as you may have guessed from our stories. In the cyclo-blogs that we’ve read, it seems that the best defence is a simple stick. And yes, given the choice between protecting our ankles or whacking a dog, we’ll use the stick. The only problem is that we can’t figure out how to attach the “weapons” to the bikes so that they don’t get in our way, aren’t dangerous for us, and so that we can get “deploy” them quickly when the need arises.

So we’re asking you for suggestions. How can we attach the sticks to the bikes using simple materials that you could find anywhere?

Sara & Sébastien