7. Another great day...Esso is one day away!
"Kamchatka Peninsula" by Bike and Kayak
Wed 25 Jul 2012 06:44
I woke inside a lovely, mosquito free 'cage', outside they were buzzing around waiting to get their blood sucking 'needle' into my exposed flesh. The normal Kamchatka fog was thick, but inside me, nothing could break me, I was fired up for the open road day ahead.
Early breakfast with full 'armour plating', and I was soon packed up, water bottles full, and by 7h15 I was in the saddle and riding the long straight, slightly uphill 10 km road back up to the main road. The morning fog did make the road feel quite a bit more closed in and a little more 'bear scary'. As usual I chanted my 'Hey Bear' routine, and sang occasionally, as the slight uphill forced me to work quite hard. I didn't see any new tracks but took more time to focus on those that were there, and there were a lot more than I thought when I'd come the other way I was soon at the 'T' junction with the main road, another 20 or so kilometres and I'd be at the turnoff to my 'bread man's' village. The road was relatively good, my mind strong, and with just this short distance ahead I had a great ride, pushing things probably more than I should have, but the day's rest had helped. I was definitely getting stronger on the bike with each day.
There was a bus shelter virtually at the destination 'T' junction, and I used it to change into respectable 'village dress', as with day light time on my hands, I'd decided I'd walk and hitch the 10km into the village, just as a varied adventure. I hid my bike in the forest and then started the 10km walk. I sensed at worst it would take me 3 hours to walk there and back, but I believed that chances were good I'd get picked up by the first passing vehicle. Two km's of boring, long, straight, road walking and I thought, no this is stupid, you either get a lift or don't go, and if that's the case best wait at the junction. I turned around walked back, waited 10 minutes for the first vehicle, but surprise, surprise, the driver looks me up and down, and decided 'Nie't'. I must say I was surprised, I thought the spirit out here, from the people I've met, would mean 100% pickup rate. Another 20 minutes and a Russian military jeep is heading my way, with a stern faced solitary occupant. Hmm, this could be another 'nie't'.. But no, with some initial hesitation he stops, and almost military style instructs me in. I sense he regrets stopping when he picks up I'm not Russian speaking, the conversation ceases, but he sticks with his offer! Hey, if the man doesn't want to try talk,, that's OK, all I really want is a lift to the village! As we get close a huge snow covered volcano peak appears behind the village, I gasp at my first viewing up North, and excitedly say "volcan" in a Russian twang, but he remains expressionless, just nods. As we turn into the village, main street, I ask where the magazyn is, and he points to way down the end of the road, but then proceeds to drop me off right where we agree, the other end! No problems, I get out and thank him, say goodbye. He drives off, and proceeds right to the magazyn, leaving me thinking he either wanted to allow me to walk and explore thee whole main street, or more likely he didn't want to be seen giving me a lift in a military vehicle? It was strange though, the type of stuff that happens when sadly there is no real communication bond.
I'm determined to get a better view of that impressive volcano, but first explore the main street. Amazing houses, all with huge pills of Firewood in front of them, and many with separate building, banya's in the garden. The most number of side cars I've ever seen, so a good sign. The shops have the usual 'general store' wares, and soon I'm walking right angles to the main street, in the direction of that volcano. I pass another brand new central kids playground, lots of young kids having real good old fashioned fun on the slides, climbing racks, and swings. Really nice to see. This village is pretty big, I come across to large duplex apartment complexes, complete with individual, centrally heated banya's behind the block. I walk and walk but thee forest never clears and that single snapshot is all I'll remember of that volcano perspective.
Not sure how long it would take to hitch back, I decided to walk to a spot where the first turn in to the village area is. It's hot, no shade, and maybe being in for a long wait I find a log offcut that makes a perfect seat on the side of the road. A few locals walk / cycle by clearly bewildered with my presence. After 20 minutes, and second car by I'm picked up. A young guy in a clapped out Russian equivalent of the 1st Toyota corollas. He clearly wants to engage, but can't speak any English, so we just muddle along, he getting clearly frustrated as he finds my exoticness interesting. The cars shocks are buggered, he is driving at quite a speed, smoking, and the his phone rings, but he misses the call. He desperately wants to know who it was, and has his head down eyes off the road searching. The car starts heading off course, hits a huge hole and we come real close to rolling as he over corrects with the shock of the moment! We get to the main road in one piece, he turns the engine off gets out, and wants to chat some more! I show him my bike, get dressed back into my cycling gear and he finally decides to say goodbye and move on.
There are lots of mozzies, and it's still far too hot and dusty to enjoy the ride, so I decide to wait an hour at the bus shelter. With the long day light hours, I have time on my side. I take out my tent shell and using it as a totally encapsulated, ant-mozzie sheet, without poles, I get into it and make a 'cool' rest place on the bus shelter bench. Perfect, the mozzies can't get me, and time for a 1hr nap! I'm woken by the sound of people's voices. A solitary car has stopped to investigate the unusual sight at the bus shelter. They've all got out and are staring at this apparition, talking at it, trying to make conversation to solve their mystery! After initially ignoring them, I realise they won't go away, so turn over unzip myself out of my apparition suit, and politely introduce myself. One by one the four shake hands, and the questions start flying. I know the sounds of the standard question now, and also know my standard answers, so provided I've heard right 'automatic conversation, well question / answer dialect continues for a while. Lots of smiles, shaking heads as they get sucked into the intrigue and deal with my solo ("adin", meaning 'one' in Russian!) story! The usual topic of bears come up, and it gets the usual disbelief at my naked approach, followed by a caring lecture on Kamchatka grizzly bears. Nice caring people, but far away from my adventure world, nevertheless full on in their own motorised one. They were also heading to Esso, and strongly warned me about bears on the Esso road I would soon be turning off onto.
After good-byes, and the inevitable "Good luck", they leave in a cloud of dust, and I have peace on the deserted, hot road. Russians clearly have endeared to the concept of wishing someone 'good luck', because those words are one of the most common English words they can say. Interesting, hey.
That later hour makes quite a difference, I can feel the edge has come off the heat, so at 15h30 I pack up and literally excitedly cycle off...Just 34 kilometres ahead is my evening destination point, and the turn off to Esso. From there it's 68 kilometres of unknown road, but from my friend Andrew's feedback, a very hilly road, as I head into the mountains. That's tomorrow's challenge though, time to enjoy the now!
Although the road was the same challenging surface the strange assumption that there was only 34 more kilometres of it left, my well rested body, and a focused '10 km at a time' approach, made for almost pleasant cycling. Three kilometres before the turnoff to Esso I came across the perfect river and overnight camp spot, so the decision was easy. It was quite a way down to the river level and as I made my way through long, thick grass, firstly the mozzie factor increased significantly and those earlier bear warnings came back loud. Electric fence time.. A good spot to try it out, and finesse the routine so it becomes an easy and standard camp procedure from now on.
The campsite location is idyllic, but the mozzies push the bar to a new 'worst ever' level. It's the trouble with being near a river, or water, but I do believe they are bad everywhere one stops around here, at this time off day, I have full armour gear, and also decide that the level of attack justifies use of my special, no DEET, anti-mozzie swabs I bought in Canada. I must say I don't have a lot of confidence in the effectiveness of anti mozzie stuff, so this was a last gasp attempt to make the situation bearable. Lo and behold, the swabs worked...we'll for about 20 minutes or so, then the buggers broke through the weakening barrier, and with the electric fence setup taking some learning time, I was soon back in full battle mode. I was pleased with my 'home designed', 'set of tricks' for the fence, and choice of length of fence, as I could use nearby trees and soon had a sizeable, tent safety area cordoned off in a large square. Connected up the power unit and buried the earth, turned it all on, the LED light flashed saying it was all working, but no, unfortunately. I have to do a real, live test: Get shocked myself! I gingerly approach the fence, prepare myself for the shock, which one can't really do, but it feels like one should, and then stretch out and touch the fence.. Damn..or is that Great, no shock? Aah, my cycling shoes have real thick insulating soles, that's why! I take them off, now half expecting no shock it was easier to 'volunteer' to reach out to touch the fence... Bang, I got immediately and surprisingly violently zapped. Good it's working, but is that really enough to turn around a huge male grizzly? My thoughts go back to books I'd read about grizzlies and similar (presumably!) electric fences, and how really effective they were, and that's all I need to park the doubt forever, for this trip at least. Fate will have to play its role here, because I'm not worrying every night about whether the fence will do its job or not. I'll assume it will, but always have my 'last resort' buddy, the sickle close at hand next to where I sleep. That's it, subject closed for the whole trip! The mozzies are so bad, and I don't want to increase the bear risk by cooking 'in' my tent, and with still bread, cheese and salami at hand, I opt for a sandwich dinner...nice chunky ones, and at least two, as I'm a working man! The half, mini bottle of that Russian schnapps makes for a great aperitif, and a slab of great Russian chocolate a wonderful desert. I must say the Russian chocolates have impressed me in their quality and diverse range.
I'm soon inside the mozzie 'safety' of my tent, enjoying reading my Kindle books, before I dose off to sleep. New age adventure camping hey!
I'm really excited about tomorrow's 71 kilometre trip to my first major end point destination. Esso is supposed to be lovely...
ZZZZZZZ...! Real good sleeps tonight, I'm inside an electric fence!