Guide – Page 5 – Solo Female Cycling Around The World

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

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.

Will he look the same, more importantly will he feel the same between my wheels, I wonder as he rounds the shelf and he appears before my eyes. It is a glorious reunion, for almost a month apart, can soften any cranky soul who has longed for their partners return. Vowing to change on the parting, the impending courtship of a larger sprocket and repaired bearing on return, I can only bask in contentment of the glorious sight of a renewed relationship.

True to form, of any man longing for another ride between my wheels, my hubby Rohloff has arrived with gifts, Rohloff AG t-shirts, oil change kit, new cables, n/c sprocket change, new gear cables and most importantly a large apology, that I fully accept from the Rohlof AG Hospital for his delay. A no cost visit to Germany will certainly derail any worries I may have had about his long awaited return. For after all, even Rohloff AG hospital staff at times can make mistakes and choose ineffective return shipping options. No more can be said, I must go, for after all it is our first night of many back together again. Updated lubrication, sexy t-shirts, a more efficient sprocket for my riding style and new cables, it will certainly be a night to remember. What will those crazy Germans think up next. Perhaps, even giving my hubby a run for his money.

photo credit

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

Number 5

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

Number 4

You are stuck in a vehicle and you want to get out and cycle

Number 3

Walking seems like too big of an effort

Number 2

You decide to use an old map as toilet paper because the last three shops you have been to don’t stock TP, because the locals don’t believe that paper is any better than a hand as a bum wiping utensil

Number 1

You know the words for ‘beer’ and ‘can I sleep here for free’ in half a dozen languages

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

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.

suzecycling

Cycle touring is not that popular where you are from, how did you get into cycle touring?

In the 1970s I spent quite a bit of time backpacking and cross country skiing in the mountains of the US and Canada. During the same period, I commuted to work on my beloved Fuji 10- speed and rode for fun on weekends. Even then I so enjoyed cycling and bike touring seemed like a good, tempting idea to me…30 years happened next, but how time disappears like that I really can’t explain. Got married, left NYC, built a solar house in the woods and a big garden…and never had both time and money to travel, by any kind of transportation.

My job now provides vacation time. The first two years I stayed home to work in the garden and on our still-not-really-finished house, hike in my nearby woods and hills and enjoy life here. But a year later something gave way. I had long since given my Fuji bicycle to a friend’s child and I missed it. I walked into my local outdoor store and bought a bike. I never, ever spend $500 or so that fast. Fell immediately back in love with moving myself around on two wheels. That was in September 2007, with almost no riding weather left here. The next year I went on my first tour.

What do you love about France?

…A lot of people ride bikes there. I love being immersed in such a rich and old culture, one that has in many ways informed the culture in the US, but that remains so uniquely different. In the US, the operating ethic is new, new, new, more, more more, bigger, bigger, bigger. Older things, buildings, roads, communities, are very typically destroyed to make way for the new. In France, human culture has written itself, embedded itself on and in the landscape in an intrinsic, respectful way that we don’t see here… You don’t need to ride great distances to experience changes…Every valley or mountain peak brings something different. Cycling is also respected there, and so many people have ridden a bike. Usually cars give you a good amount of space, and I’ve never been hassled.

Photos from Susan’s Nature Reclaims Culture Photos Series

Was France your first tour location?

My first bike tour was in September 2008 when I rode around Lake Champlain, a very large lake in Vermont, USA and Canada, a bit north of where I live. My husband had foot surgery and it turned out his recovery took longer than anticipated. So I went solo. My memory is that it was about 300 miles, pretty flat, mostly.

Do people at work understand your passion for touring?

Not at all. People are mostly supportive and intrigued but I think my cycle touring is generally considered a bit eccentric, or whacky, especially so because I tour solo. Several colleagues do quite a lot of bike touring, but always in supported tours, and that’s true even of the serious cyclists, who are no doubt much stronger riders than I am. They come closest to understanding, but they don’t get it why I would ride carrying my own gear, much less solo … and certainly not camping!

What’s your favorite road side snack?

Hmmmm…. in the morning I snack on whatever I take from breakfast — often cheese and baguettes. I stopped being shy about asking to take food from the breakfast table with me, explaining that I was on a cycle…..Oh yes, you asked me for my favorite snack. That would be fresh locally grown fruit and local goat cheese, with a bit of baguette.

Your bicycle has a great name. How did you come up with that?

Thanks!! Papillon. It is the word for butterfly in French. During my Cévennes trip, one day I was slowly working my way up a pass. It was hot, and I kept climbing up, up, following the shade from one side to the other of the road. I noticed small green butterflies, fluttering seemingly always just in front of me, from side to side, making their way, gracefully, if slowly, in the world. My bike is also green, so the phrase “ma bicyclette, mon petit papillon vert” came to mind. That is an awfully big name so she became just Papillon. We flit along, not too fast, but make our way to many truly beautiful places.

What type of bike is Papillon?

Papillon is a Cannondale Touring 2. I bought her just before my Cevennes trip, knowing it would be a lot better riding in steep country, with weight, than on the Trek I bought earlier. The Trek is now on an indoor setup for winter and I ride on it sometimes locally especially on our dirt roads. I’ve been lucky and not had any substantial problems….

Any plans for your next tour?

Not yet a plan, it’s still in the dream stage…however, I’ve never seen the Alps. My imagination starts on the Atlantic … in France, slips quickly into Spain, rides some of those high Pyrenees passes, crosses the Midi, riding Aigoul and then Ventoux, finds the Alps and finishes with a quick dive into a tiny bit of Italy .. on the Mediterranean.

Cyprus…How To Bicycle Tour Princess Style

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.

My low maintenance lifestyle exploded into a high maintenance bicycle touring affair. My usual distances were reduced to 12km-56km a day. Our meals consisted of locating outdoor tables, and leisurely enjoying the best of the small market cuisine. Free camping became a paradise of options when we searched for camping inside buildings or free inside hotels under repair. Our lowest mileage day was 12km when my group decided to keep dry all day and watch the sky for rain. I was a little surprised by the rain day retreat of cyclists who had also crossed Asia into Europe and clearly done some rainy cycling but quickly realized that there are many ways to bicycle tour and enjoyed staying dry with the group.

photo taken by Loretta Henderson

Highlights of a princess style bicycle tour on Cyprus in a group of 4 which contained a French woman who funny enough, I don’t think was that interested in cycling included swimming at Golden Beach and a visit to Salamis the archeological site. At times it was hard to believe that 2 human women could actually be of the same gender and have bicycle touring in common. My high maintenance friend seemed to prefer spending the bicycle touring day sorting out 5 star inside camping and her laundry. This is a wonderful personality type that comes in very handy when turning a bicycle tour into a 5 star princess style bicycle touring affair. The 2 guys and I were more relaxed about how many stars our picnic table needed to have and probably would of preferred spending the time increasing the distances and speed a little. However, I did appreciate the 5 star luxuries all the same.

Here is the route, which loops N Cyprus from Girne, Kyrenia. Small food markets and fresh water are located throughout the route. Inside and outside camping options are plentiful. There’s a lot of info on the internet about bicycle touring routes and trails in Cyprus. Here’s a great resource. Here are some public FB photos taken at the charming Cyprus Dorms and Hotel (the owner loves FB friends) where I stayed at the start and end of the loop.

Special note: I also want to apologize to every man, woman and child who doesn’t like laundry jokes and/or this website.

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

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.

Realizing I am politically incorrect to mention such things, the Karan verses that are so freely sung through circa 1980’s stereo equipment on Muslim streets throughout the world would be beautiful if the acoustics were not similar to the sound of a deaf dog barking underwater.

With that said, there will never be room for Ebenezer Scrooge on Pandemic The Magic Bicycle. And, there are many people who are celebrating the holidays while singing beautiful carols around the world.

As my family sits around an x-mas tree at my sister’s house opening gifts and eating turkey I find myself riding this holiday out solo not eating Turkey but in the country of Turkey (Cyprus) half way around the world. In the spirit of a happy holiday, I refuse to give way to the sad lonesome blues as I open not presents but my many messages on skalatitude.com, Facebook, Twitter and e-mail. My long time friend or rather someone I consider a sister by choice has send me a message, she has some big news to share. She has started a blog just in time for the holidays. My pinterestinglife.com is a hit in only two weeks and rocking off the charts with huge reviews and requests for guest blogging posts. My chosen sister of 20+years, Dawn Cochrane who is as obsessed as Martha Stewart with crafty ideas, has finally decided to share her gifts with a blog.

Her blog has become my on the road holiday choice to receive some well needed holiday cheer. Her gift of household crafts is as obsessive of my love of bicycle travel. Through her creative blog writing and excellent photos, I have smiled and learned about making x-mas gift wrap out of children’s artwork and drooled while reading her Rudolf pancakes recipe. I dearly appreciate such holiday cheer but most of all I love connecting and sharing the x-mas news with all of you. I hope you all enjoy the x-mas craft tips from her blog as much as I have this year. For all bicycle gears will also need some holiday cheer in order to pedal the continent of Africa by this time next year.

Para-Cycling, The Balancing Act Of A Champion

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.

Sheyda’s affection for sports began as a young child on the dusty stone streets in his village near Kabul, Afghanistan. As youngsters do, he was taught be his family how to ride a bicycle. Soon the Taliban, a notoriously extreme political group took over the country side. Armed with bombs, guns and violent enforcement, the Taliban terrorized the area with new rules. Women and children were banned from schools. Museums, medical buildings and school texts were burned, banned or banished.

Sheyda could no longer ride his red bicycle to attend school. The streets were exploding in fear and such freedoms were now a frivolous thing of the past. Bomb blasts were a daily affair. Sheyda was given a gun by his neighbor. As a boy child, it was mandatory to replace his red bicycle with a weapon. He was ordered to carry it and protect his family on the bomb laced streets alongside his neighbors. Soon thereafter, Sheyda lost his leg to a Taliban bombing and fled Afghanistan to Iran, his family had been killed.

Today, Sheyda’s around town bicycle is no longer red but is a silver Peugeot mtn. bike equipped with one spd clip pedal. He is a professional para-cyclist sprint racer and most recently competed in the international para-games in Gangzou, China. He is presently training in Shiraz, Iran on the sprint track with the other Iranian professional cyclists. He hopes to beat his sprint record in the upcoming international games. I know this sister cyclist will definitely be bursting with cheer for him on the inside and the out.

Girly Girl Gear For Guys Too

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.

However, if they wanted to know what kind of PANNIERS I was packing I would love to talk about it. So here it is. I love my panniers and if you must know, yes they really do keep my panties safe, completely dry and condensation free in all conditions. And the best part of all? If you buy yours at skalatitude.com it doesn’t cost you anything extra and the small percentage skalatitude.com receives goes towards the purchase of a bicycle ambulance.

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

Dear Universe, please help me find a place to die or a pharmacy

My stomach has finally collapsed and succumbed to the bicycle tourist plight of a million different foods, waters and bacteria’s. After 2 ½ years of continuous bicycle travel my stomach has cart wheeled into one food and water adventure to the next and like the TV show fear factor sometimes it doesn’t always work out. However, this time it is different from all the other times, cycling, walking, laying down, and sitting are no longer possible. About all I can still manage is a glazed eyed, head scarf straightened half smile, a buckled over thumbs up and righteous attempt to not puke on myself in the wind.

Dear Universe, thank you for intervening on my behalf

After 15 minutes intervals of cycling, stomach cramps, walking, puking and curling up on the side of the road, the universe intervenes on my stubborn, wood headed behalf. Pandemic the Magic Bicycle and I are collected by a super concerned man with a truck. About all I can still manage is a thumbs up, a smile and a thank you in Persian, the local language, as I crawl towards the saint, I mean truck. The man lifts Pandemic into the back of the truck because my stomach definitely isn’t about to lift Pandemic The Magic Bicycle loaded on this occasion.

Hospitality in Muslim countries is legendary. My new friend thinks I have a injured leg, probably because I am walking doubled over, I motion it is my stomach. He wants to take me to his home and feed me. With my best travelers gesture I motion that I am sick, and say I need a pharmacy, a medicine store. He drives me to a hospital.

Pro-tip while gesturing sickness in any language always remember to be comically obvious, sound effects are helpful as well

As a tourist in Iran, I am guest of the country and it is very important that I have a good experience while travelling here. Police man, medical directors, hospitals managers, head nurses and anyone who knows 2 words of English are brought to my assistance when I ask about a pharmacy to buy some antacids. Not having any idea what is wrong with my belly I decide I should start with antacids. The hospital rolls Pandemic The Magic Bicycle into a treatment room behind the curtain and I realize I might be there for a while. Are you Anorexic? I mustered a laugh and said no, I am a bicycle tourist, however, anorexia and bicycle touring are remarkably similar in the hunger department. Where’s your Husband? Casper (the ghost), he is on vacation. Are You Alone? I am part of the International Social Club, we are always looking for new members…the questioning begins.

After a day of sonograms, iv bags, blood tests, 8 more pukes and 7 hours of observation for a sun burnt face that isn’t a fever , appendicitis, peptic ulcers, non-existent diarrhea, anorexia and being single, I decide it is time to leave the hospital. For the same reason that I would never take an old car to a mechanic because they will only find something to fix. My old worn out stomach is not improving what so ever so I decide to go into the next big city and self medicate and if it doesn’t improve I will go back to the hospital. I legally discharge myself with a written statement that says…

Dear Universe, thank you for healing my tummy

My treatment in this hospital has been wonderful. I love Iran, I will definitely visit again, blah, blah blah…. That’s where I am now, discharged, feeling better in a guest house, drinking chamomile, peppermint tea, flat 7-up, eating plain pasta, bread and antacids, sleeping and waiting for my belly to settle so I can pedal the rest of the way through Iran before the snow flys in the Middle East.

How Great It Is To Be a Man in Baluchistan

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.

I have learned that the Baluchi, Pakistan people are as jovial as it gets, with a laugh that jiggles their bellies, a laugh that Santa would be proud of. The Pakistani military police and I have become intimately acquainted lately when I was scooped up in Quetta in the Baluchistan province and prevented from cycling the majority of the way to the border by some surprisingly super fun police.

I cycled the remaining KM to the border at sunrise keeping a low profile. I park Pandemic the magic bicycle with the Pakistani border police, sit and wait for the Iranian gate to open. I get to chatting with one of the guards. He tells me, he is looking for a wife and the rest of Pakistan has gotten too liberal and it is not good. Funny enough, he is very handsome and has a likeable demeanor, which is, until he starts talking. He is what I would call an unique conservative man and not your average Pakistani. He tells me with a big friendly smile , that he is 25 years old, that he can’t wait to become a man, he asks me how many women the boys at home have slept with at 25, and says he has only slept with one, he tells that my downtown area has gotten too old for these sort of things because of the cycling. As the sun continues to rise, I am trying not to laugh and therefore encourage any conversation that may take us further downtown or encourage a debate about the present fitness status of my aging hoohaa.

I put on my best curious travelers smile and sit back and listen. He continues with his views about how women are to stay at home and only after having birthed two boy babies will his wife be allowed to leave the house wearing a burka with full face coverage to go to the market. She will not be allowed to have friends, an education after 10th grade, and marrying at 15 is good. He is considering having a couple of wives, he is allowed 4. However, he is not sure he can afford it. You have got to love money for at least that, I think to myself. I ask him about some burn marks I have seen on some women’s faces, he tells me she did something at home and it’s ok that the man burns and/or beats her. As my teetering smile and eye balls pop out, I force myself to keep listening. I am genuinely fascinated and try to be respectful of differences; however, I think my tongue might be bleeding.

I asked the guard what he thinks about me. As a women bicycle travelling alone in Pakistan, I have often felt guilty about my tremendous freedom and significantly concerned about my sisters of the world. He says he thinks it is fine and wonderful because I am not a Baluchi woman. I wished him well finding his 4 wives, apologized that I wasn’t a polygamist and off I went pedaling into Iran on my aging hoohaa grateful for the education and that much more concerned about some of my sisters in Baluchistan.

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

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 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.

Are you expecting snow? What kind of tires do you have?

Ellen is expecting blizzards; she has equipped her Soma Saga bicycle with Schwalbe Black Shark folding MTB tires ordered from America and shipped to China. She will also be ready with a stick on board to clear out the snow and ice from between the tires and mudguards and a lightweight tarp to cover her bicycle from the harsh elements while camping. For gloves, she will wear a pair Pearl Uzumi with mittens over top, she wishes she had lobster claw gloves but they are too spendy so she is going with what she has got. For more tips on budgeting for your outdoor adventure see No Money, No Honey.

How much money does a winter bicycle tour cost?

On past tours throughout China, Ellen budget ranges about $120 USD a month. She is documenting nomads and religion through a photography project. As a solo female bicycle tourist she is often invited to camp with local families. Emily’s photography work can be found on her excellent website, 2wheels4girls.com. At $4USD a day, with her camera and keen eye for beauty Ellen hopes to be on the road for about 6 months concentrating on the nomadic areas of Kazakhstan.

What items did you add to the panniers, specifically for winter bicycle touring?

one set 100% merino wool thermals top and bottom
one set synthetic thermals top and bottom
Stove, MSR whisper lite international bought new for this trip because her alcohol stove doesn’t burn well in colder climates
Full extra set of clothes stored in a dry bag to warm up quickly and prevent hypothermia in wet weather conditions
A silk liner for her winter sleeping bag
Gortex hiking boots
2 merino wool hats
Merino wool balaclava
2 extra pairs of thick outdoor trekking pants
Tent, a cheap Chinese made tent that she curses at. Ellen hopes to purchase the storm proof Vaude Hogan Ultralight Argon after selling some photographs of her trip

What does this winter adventurer dream of doing next?

Ellen has heard rumors that sometimes the NW passage freezes over enough that you could pedal across the frozen ice but she did mention to not tell her fiancé.

Category: Guide