4. The Sea of Oshotsk: It all feels so different, the REAL adventure begins, so many experiences in one day!
"Kamchatka Peninsula" by Bike and Kayak
Mon 20 Aug 2012 05:26
Only now, two days later, feeling fully recovered from, the three Sergey's, night, I was up at 6am, excited about the new day ahead and the prospect of meeting the sea, and the adventure unknown that lay ahead.
These villages don't get going very early, so I cycled through and out of Ust Boleresk without seeing a sole, then turned left and connected with the corrugated, dust highway, in foggy conditions. Thankfully the fog brings moisture which takes away the dust, and the 10km ride to the Sea of Oshotsk was quite enjoyable.
It was really special as I felt the change to the cold, moist air from the sea, and then finally I saw the white water of the beach breaking ocean waves. I love the sea, it's incessant motion, ever changing state, and unending vastness, but my emotional reaction to now finally get on the west coast shore even surprised me. The road 'T's' right at the beach, and as I took the left arm, right in front of me was one of the many beachside, private / semi commercial, fishing operations, that I'd see a lot more of on this first section of coast line. Quite large, yet almost jury rigged, informal beach 'houses', made from whatever materials one can find lying free and available in the vicinity, yet formed into, not unsubstantial, seasonal homes. Male only residents, with usually a few dogs, and then laid out on the ocean side, heavily anchored sea to shore nets, that get brought in daily with their sea harvest.
Right of fishing space seems well respected, with many shoreline kilometres between 'neighbour' operations.
At this point the Sea of Oshotsk had maybe a 1m swell, that transformed into a strong, but around 1m, shorebreak. I was surprised how warm the water was, probably around 13-14 deg C, and with a strange brown tinge and black volcanic beach sand. All quite special, and I sense the brown water being the result of lots of nutrients reveling in the long summer daylight hours.
Ahead of me was the long straight road 'perched' on the narrow peninsula that separates the huge river estuary areas on the east, from the sea on the west. It was just as I'd imagined. The road stretching as far as I could see into the southern horizon. The contrast of the ugly powerline pylons following the road to the southern town of Octyabrysky, and the beautiful vivid orange volcano silhouetted horizon to the east, providing unexpected visual richness.
The black, moderately corrugated road surface was just acceptable for bicycle travel, but this was still shown as secondary road on the map I had, beyond Octyabrysky it was merely called a path. My apprehension for what lay beyond Octyabrysky increased, but for now I just focused on the difficult head wind, cold conditions, and the twelve flat, straight, and potentially mind challenging kilometres ahead.
This was the area where I'd be entering the major area of uncertainty of the trip: Is this 160 kilometre road down the coast capable of being ridden by bicycle. I had plan B, which was to lock the bike somewhere, get out thee almost adequate backpack and walk, but this wasn't a desirable option.
I reveled in the challenge these new conditions provided and soon arrived in Octyabrysky. Once again I was surprised at the size of the town, and quality of general store. I even managed to get brewed coffee made for me from the one magazyn. The warm drink very much welcomed as I dealt with the onset of light rain, a stronger head wind and the cooling effects of having stopped cycling. I felt quite alone, as I contemplated the remote isolation, uncertain road surface, threat of bears, once I left this last bastion of civilisation, for a coast that is not to dissimilar to the Namibian Skeleton Coast for its fog, remote-ness, and unending straight flat shoreline.
Almost as a symbolic gesture, I find this informal clothes store selling clothes off the street, and so decide I need another pair of warm socks... The cold wind and rain playing with my mind, because I don't really need ANYTHING else, it's time to face Nature, full on. Anyway, a lovely lady selling the socks, so I buy a pair, and seeing my bicycle we 'chat' the normal stuff... Another '50 something', joins us with the question: "Ah, you Englishman?" My father's name is Reginald, and my name is Nic!" Great English, but that was about all he could say.... Nice guy, ex mercantile navy ship's captain, and he can't believe I'm going to try cycle down the coast...The road is bad, bears are a big problem, etc, etc... Just the stuff one needs to hear before departure! Needing to pooh, and his comments having done nothing to expedite that...! I ask if there is a toilet around. Nic offers me the use of his flat toilet, and says its a short walk away, but then a walk up to the 5th floor...no lifts in these old buildings. We get to his flat, I use the toilet, then he just wants to chat. Makes me coffee, offers me vodka!, and I'm just amazed at the condition of his flat, and how it's just piled high with what to me is junk, but clearly to him, lots of sentimental stuff. He has a laptop and dictionary, so communication gets to a relatively sophisticated level, about his life, decision to move to Octyabrysky a few years back, his pension income, and then finally he shows me a English translation of his current 'job', and it says "Poacher"! This wasn't a poor interpretation, he proudly said he is a fish poacher, because it's the only way he can make some income. I'm astounded at this level of irresponsible honesty, almost naievity, but this is Kamchatka! He then goes off and comes back with a brand new 30cm, stainless steel hunting knife, complete with sheath, and with a warmth that was hard to reject he said he wants to give me this for protection down the coast! Gee, man what generosity, care and thoughtfulness, but I couldn't take it and sensitively explained that I had one, and best he kept it. After exchanging contact details, and me promising to contact him when I pass by on my return, I eventually had to drag myself away. You can learn a lot about real life talking to people like Nic. It always makes me feel so humble, reminding me to be thankful for the opportunities I have...
It was back to my 'sock supplier' friend, where I'd left my bicycle, and by now a small crowd had gathered to meet this crazy guy, going to try bicycle down the coast! It had started to rain a bit heavier, so time for wet weather gear...Hmmm, 'she' could have given me better conditions to start, man!" One by one I say good bye, the all say "Good luck" in strong Russian accents, but actually it's all quite special. I cycle off south waving good bye on the only road going south, that in a shirt space of time gets very lonely and isolated...no buildings, nothing, and just a narrow black spit with a so called road in the middle of it, sea to my right, marsh to my left...