Emotionally deranged in Bishkek last month, Nathan of www.cyclingtowardsthesun.com gave me an idea for a tour.
“Around the World in 80 Dates” – as in dates with dudes. Hell, who knows…maybe I should open the candidate pool for women too.
Promise…working on touring related postings. Promise.
It recently came to my attention that maybe some of my anti-normal life inner monologues turned into blog posts may have offended people.
Firstly, apologies.
Secondly, I don’t think lesser of people that have a normal life. I’m actually quite envious. How can I not be envious of those that have found happiness…as I ride around on a bike, deprived of home comforts, searching for my bliss. I wish normalcy was for me…I wish I could find happiness in the idea of marriage, kids, a car, and a nice home.
Maybe some of you, readers, understand the inner turmoil I go through. Pedaling down lonesome roads, knowing that I could go home to a nice normal life. But, there is something about the idea…that stifles me. It’s just not for me, and I don’t diss on those that have it. There is a part of me that wants it…but there is a smidgen of me that doubts I’ll be who I want to be in that role.
So, if you left this blog with no intention of returning, I’m sorry. If I offended you with my internal rantings trying to convince myself and validate my abnormal behavior and choices, I’m sorry.
Thirdly, I’m sorry to the guy who’s heart I broke. The person I was dedicated to for 7 years. The person I thought I was going to be with for the rest of my life.
There readers…you have it. The sad and depressed undertone in my blogs. It’s from losing love.
Every day for awhile now, I wake up a bit melancholy. I usually can ride it out, singing out loud…at the top of my lungs. Too often it’s songs that remind me of us. But when I’m held up in cities, taking care of Visas or whatever…I find myself falling into a dark, depressed hole. And it sucks.
I’m going for a ride tomorrow with an Australian that lives out here in Almaty. It will be nice and I’ll borrow one of his mountain bikes. I’m quite inexperienced in this type of riding, I’ve never ridden a bike with suspension. Should be…different…
Must Read:
As of January 2012, you must get your Passport Exit Stamp approximately 160 km East of the China border. The city is called “Wuqia” and you must go through the Exit/Entry Station. This is for cyclists crossing FROM China to Kyrgyzstan.
If you arrive at the border without your Exit stamp, there is NO alternative but to return the 160km. The roads have been reported as patchy but I would report that they are some of the worst road conditions I have experienced. This was late winter/early spring with snow, morning ice, mud, iced mud, and roads being flooded out because of the melt. They are currently “working” on a new highway. When I say “working” it means everything has been torn up and some patches completed but I didn’t see ONE PERSON working on it during the week out there.
Wonderful camping opportunities, safe, and sparse population…and hundreds of wild camels.
Please pass this information along to others and repost on as many sites as possible.
The crossing is also closed on the weekends and there is very little to purchase in regards to supplies at the border. I suggest that you stock up on 7 days worth of supplies in Wuqia. This should get you to Sary-Tash Kyrgyzstan if the weather is GOOD. If the weather is bad, the Tajik truck drivers coming from Sary-Tash will give you breads, cookies, cans of tuna, or whatever they have in their truck. You won’t starve…but BE PREPARED.
What can I say, Brent Mchugh!? You’ve played such a long, and important role in my life as one of my dearest friends. You’ve also been a boyfriend, art school/sketch buddy, a (sometimes overly) protector, and a light through dark times.
You were the one that helped me prepare my Freshman photo portfolio and you were the one standing next to me when I read my acceptance letter into the program and you were the one that took me out to celebrate after I finished my last course in Undergrad. You’ve always been there for me.
Love…oh, and “Your brain is the one with the shell on it!”
You’ll be able to view more photos from the tour if you visit the link in the left column that says “Photos From My Journey”.
I’ll still be posting over here…but I would prefer if everyone just made a habit checking on the tumblr site. emoseman.tumblr.com
I awoke around 8 am to hearing the praying of men and feeling a little Earthquake. Just a itty bitty one…comparable to the ones I feel a lot when I’m in Taiwan.
On the edge of Hotan the sky cleared and it was the first blue sky I’d seen in 5 days. I knew it was going to be a good one…and it was. (I’m posting from my tent now.)
A Uyghur family pulled up to me on their motorcycle and asked where I was going. The husband seemed to have been very impressed by my bike.
There was green grass beginning to grow in the fields and I told myself I would ride with a smile and “hellos” today.
Women were working the fields and after my wave and hello, I even heard them giggle as they watched me ride by.
Down a dusty road I saw about 15 little girls with their colorful head scarves. They eventually noticed me and I shouted hello and waved across the orchard. I was replied with girlish laughter and “hellos”.
Men were repairing their thatched roofs or washing their feet after doing their own daily duties.
It was one of THOSE DAYS. You know…when it feels just so damn good to be out there.
And then look who I ran into! The cycling gods are playing nasty tricks on me by sending me cute English cyclists going in the OTHER direction. 3 in 3 days…you’ve got to be kidding me! www.thecyclediaries.com
I told them my mushroom joke..they thought it was as awful as the last person I shared it with. Great!
While we hung out for a little while, I noticed how much company we got from the local Uyghur men. It was the most I’ve experience yet. Them just pulling up to watch us chat…with pretty big smiles stretched across their faces.
After we part ways, one of the motorbikes followed me and offered me a bag of fruit. I need to make up some mileage so I kindly refused and kept on my way.
Unfortunately the night did not end so great. Lady time arrived and I was doing half-ass’d laundry next to my tent and then drop my stove in the sand. It was one of THOSE NIGHTS.
It’s proving to be very difficult for me to get photos out here. The bike is a distraction, not to mention my race and sex. When I go through markets and towns, it’s predominantly men and I can feel so many, too many, eyes watching me.
So, here is my trial run at video, taken about 150km East of Hotan, Xinjiang.
Want to know what I bought? Some may say I’m a glutton for mutton.
Now, firstly, I will not eat lamb if I’m not in Xinjiang or Inner Mongolia. For some reason…it’s delicious. Secondly, if I follow the diet fit for my blood type, it says to stay away from all meat except lamb.
I call them my power pockets. I’ve been known to eat 3 of these while riding (about 20 minutes)…as they are perfect for on the go meals. The only thing is, they have to still be warm because the fat solidifies quickly.
The other day, when I was eating this one, I could feel the fat drip down the corner of my mouth. I wipe it off and look at my finger and it had already turned to a near opaque white solid film. The cold desert wind will make it solidify fast too when riding. I recommend eating them with hot tea or soda because the inside of your mouth feels like you’ve just licked a spoon of Crisco.
BUT….they are my favorite Uyghur street food I have yet to find.
The chai/tea is also amazing…delicious spices all blended together.