Loretta Henderson – Page 26 – Solo Female Cycling Around The World

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

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

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

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

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

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.

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 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

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

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

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

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

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!

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