Chile – Solo Female Cycling Around The World

Mashismo and Cyclismo…Don’t let It Be Dismal!

“Are you alone (solita)?” The aging man´s face wrinkles into the mid morning glare. The scent of fresh daily bread fills the shop. The man raises his hand and begins to wag his index finger in disapproval. Like an itch I can not scratch people here in Chile asking me if I am alone has reached epidemic proportions.

“You know…”, I mumble to myself as I look away and down at my wrist. It is empty of an actual watch but a great focal point to spend the passing seconds in silence and muffle my sarcastic outburst.

“… I prefer my daily lecture after my coffee, what time is it, (que es horar)?” I chuckle to myself as I look up at the man. His wife, who is standing next to him, is now listening and curious. She adjusts her black faux leather shoulder bag. Her tight skinny jeans are tucked neatly into her brown shiny ankle boots.

“I am originally from Canada but I had been living in Alaska… in a town named Machismo” I say for I really cannot help myself. My warm bread bag dangles on my wrist. This will not be my first lecture but it might be his I chuckle to myself. I wonder if knocking people in the head with bags of warm bread is appropriate here? I laugh to myself

“Umm, umm, umm… sorry?..umm….I am riding my bicyce around the world. When I reach La Serena, Chile on the coast it will be the official westerly point of me riding across the world in a western direction”

The wife is now grinnin, a sisterly comederia and energy that quickly melts all language barrier has formed between us.

“How old are you?” She says (in spanish).

“I turned 41 last month, there are lots of women like me on the WOW(Women On Wheels) Wall” I say

The women is standing behind her husbands shoulder. She is grinning over the shoulder of his blue and white stripped polo shirt grinning at me. He is standing there waging his index finger as the scent of girl power permeates the walls of the olfractory rich bread shop.

She steps forward around her husband, and with a gentle nudge positions herself slightly in front of him.

“Congratualations” She says in english as her husband rolls his eyes, I crack a huge smile and instantly realize that this one woman easily makes up for all my chilean lectures about being alone.

“Congratulations to you too, thank you, you have truly just made my day.”

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Photo from Ireland 4 Years Ago when it all began

I made it to the coast yesterday with a face full of tears at La Serena, Chile the official westerly mark of me cycling west across the world. 4 years ago, I had never cycled anywhere. This is my first bicycle tour..who would of thunk it? I will cycle north from here, check the right side bar of this website for daily updates. My aplogies for the lack of posts and photos lately, my laptop giggled to death on the bicycle so I am mostly communicating daily/bi-daily through my smart phone.
(Photo from Ireland 4 Years Ago when it all began)

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Have You Thrown Your Egg Today?

As I stand on the street corner in Puerto Natales, Chile, my pockets bulging with a roll of duct tape and zip ties, my eyes catch a glipse of a shiny royal blue bus, the big hard metal beast that drove into me at 94 km/hr from behind, a few days ago when I was hit by a bus.

´´Grr, I don´t like you very much´´ I say out loud into the breeze. The dark demonic bus revs it´s well tuned engine as if responding with a snut-nosed snarky reply. The new black tires, weapons of potential mass cyclist destruction roll forward.

´´Fucktard!´´ I mumbled while my eyes squint like a canon about to launch. A glance that could melt the pants off of Lucifer explodes from my eye sockets. I am definitely having anger management issues I think to myself as I find myself stuck in a frenzied, desperate, all encompassing desire to throw eggs at the bus.

Ostrich Egg or Chicken Egg, What Kind of day Are You Having?

Ah good old fashioned eggs… there are fried eggs, boiled eggs, scrambled eggs, eggs souffles, egg quiches, egg omelets, ostrich eggs, poached eggs, sunnyside up, sunny side down, deviled eggs…where´s Forest Gump when you need him?…. In fact today I officially declare as ´´Throw A Egg At A Bus Day´´. Have you thrown your egg today?, please let me know how it splatters in the comments section below.

Stupid Bus Company Sur, thanks for the fancy NO to my request for gear replacement, I too am grateful to be alive but my letter was more of a way to document the incident than a financial request, I was hoping it would be a way to remind Bur Sur drivers to be more careful so somebody doesn´t get smashed like an egg. Maybe I have just cracked like an egg, I didn´t even hit my hard boiled head so it can´t be that. I think to myself. I continue walking in a bubble of gratitude, still surprised to not be injured in search of bungee cords and bailing wire. An action that seems ridiculously insignificant after getting hit by a bus but not physically injured.

Thank you to everyone for the well wishes on this blog, facebook and twitter. Please enjoy the new photos from Patagonia.

Hit By A Bus In Patagonia

A friend of mine once told me ´the reason you get to cycle around the world is because you have a team of angels with you but to never forget that even angels wings get tired of flapping sometimes´´ I laughed back then but today I started to believe there is something to that theory because at around 4pm, Oct 8th 2013 I got hit by a bus. I was cycling in a strong head wind 140 km from Puerto Natales, Patagonia, Chile and the bus did not see me. The bus drove at 94 km/hr (I found out the speed later) into my Ortlieb pannier. The pannier exploded and shredded from the impact essentially saving my life. My shoulder rolled forward, the colors on the bus literarily blurred before my eyes. I slammed my left shoulder into the moving bus and then Pandemic The Magic Bicycle and I crashed hard onto the rocky ground. I do not know how or why but I am completely uninjured. I have no road rash, no broken wrists, no head injury, only a bruised shoulder. I got lucky, very very lucky.

Solo Female Cyclist Patagonian Angels (photo taken by Mithun Shaw)

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´´Yes I am fine, but you just hit me with your bus´´ I chuckle with relief to the bus driver. His concerned eyes are staring at me in disbelief that I just stood up smiling, laughing that somehow I am not injured. He watched me lying on the ground and had thought the worst. His blue official vest is tucked into his grey pants. His hand is pointing to the ground to the ´blood´. My belongings are strewn across the road, many of them are shredded, plastic bus parts are everywhere.

The collision broke the plastic molding off the bus, I kept it as a souvenir

´´Where is the blood? ´´ The group of 3 bus officials have gathered from inside the bus ask as I look down at my knees, and take off my jacket to check for blood. One man finds a plastic bag full of ´blood´ amongst my belongings and sorts out it is not blood but a broken jar of raspberry jam.

“We need to fill out a report, we must drive you to the police” the man who is fluent in english and is now translating says. My language skills for speaking spanish have flown away in the andrelin and realization that I got hit by a BUS, a big fast hard bus. The bus driver messed up and drove into me with his big fast hard bus.

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The police gather around me, the bus driver and his friends explain that I and the wind are at fault and I must sign a form, it is their explanation of the events, I am told it is just documentation. I refuse to sign it. Since when is a bus allowed to plow down a cyclists who is cycling down the yellow line on the shoulder.I think to myself.

“Are you hurt? The bus will drive you the 140km into Puerto Natales to try fix your gear, are you hurt” The police say

“No I am not hurt but my pannier and belongings are destroyed, I think I must have angels, I am just glad I am ok but no thank you, I am not signing that explanation. “ I say unaware of the full extent of destruction to my gear amongst the stench of a patronizing crowd who are kind although clearly watching each other´s clever backs.

(my peace love and please don´t hit cyclists note for the bus driver)

“I am very lucky I guess I am just a good bouncer but please tell the driver to try to stay alert because in a few months during high season many cyclists will come to Patagonia to pedal and if there is a next time someone is going to get hurt or killed. Stay alive, give a cyclist 1.5 meters minimum of space. I got lucky, I think I must have angels, tired tiny combat angels that flapped their little wings for me once again while trying to cycle around the world.“