10. The final challenge: The journey back to Petropavlask Kamchatka.
"Kamchatka Peninsula" by Bike and Kayak
Wed 29 Aug 2012 04:34
Early on in the cycle trip down the west coast, I'd decided that this would be a 'one way only' cycling trip...The road was too difficult, and with the challenge of having conquered it once, and had an amazing 'journey experience', behind me, I couldn't see the point in doing the return trip. This in no way devalues the cycle trip, which I feel hugely privileged to have been able to design, plan, implement and complete, and tick off that it truly was right up there as a top, true adventure, scoring almost full marks on each of the Challenging, Rewarding and Fun, adventure defining, tripod. This rationale is central to 'Simply Adventure'. It's not about money, it's about challenge, my soul, having intense unique experiences, and having choice! This all defines Freedom for me! Having al the money in the world, and being able to buy whatever experience one wants but not (for whatever reason) having the choice to cycle, walk, sail, kayak, or ski there on one's own resources, with one's own choice of risk / reward recipe, is where the Freedom comes in. Being only able to do it with a 'bought' solution is not Freedom, no matter how exclusive or costly it is! Ok, enough 'lectures', and back to my choice, and self inflicted, dilemma:
So that left me with another challenge: How to get myself and my bicycle back from Kurilskoye Lake?
Well, obviously I could have joined the 'normal' tourist queue at the helicopter ticket sales office, but that didn't go well with my soul and at around $500 one way, I thought it was bad value for money.
While cycling down the coast I did sense, and even explored with one or two truck / people carrier drivers, that it would be possible for me to 'ratchet' my way up the coast back to Oktyabyrsky by hitching part way rides on their vehicles. It might take time though! From there, I could get one public bus back, like I'd done from Ust Kamchatsk. Know that I knew the route, and some of the transport, that all sounded like a great new challenge and adventure in itself! In deciding not to take the helicopter, that was my plan!
First leg was the boat ride with Nicolas back down the river to the 'non existent' and infamous bridge!
Well the river level had dropped at least 2 centimetres, so firstly the boat we'd come up in was now stuck in mud, and secondly Nicolas seemed even more agitated with the journey, and increased risk of grounding. I thought I'd passed the 'matroos' test with him, but no the instructions of where I must sit, how I must sit, etc were flying out even more than the 1st time we met.
Eventually we got away, great trip down the river again, we did ground lightly twice, but otherwise uneventful.
I was surprised at Nicolas's warmth to me on leaving, he even asked for my Google name, and email address, giving me his in return. This was one of the sad, for me, cases language had REALLY prevented us bonding to what I believe would have been a mutually rewarding relationship. He was 50, a yachtsman with his own 30 footer, a paraglider, outdoorsman of some elk, and clearly of some adventurous soul. But without any English, and almost a shy aversion to my foreign-ness, we never really got started. Oh well...!
I was soon on my bike, looking forward to a pleasant ride back to Ozevernsky, without the pressure of the 10am ranger meeting.
It was just great cycling in the tundra, hardly a footpath, spectacular mountains around, and nobody else in sight, with a great experience behind me, and a seemingly, manageable challenge ahead! With no time pressure I decided that rather than just go straight back I'd take the road I'd been on when I met the savor, German women, and continue till I get to the village of Pfechetka, I was originally destined for....
As I connect back onto the 'main' road, I see what must be the village ahead, lots of 'smoke' billowing from what must be smallish fires on the hillside. As I see more, it turns out to be steam, and I realise this is all natural steam from underground thermal activity, and once I get to the village I find out that there is a sizeable, geo-thermal PowerStation. Well, I hadn't missed much else, there was just one magazyn, with a real friendly proprietor, but the rest was a dysfunction village, a mix-match between the industrial PowerStation area and then derelict residential buildings. As always, I was glad to have made the effort to check it out, as it added another few threads to my now rich and quite far progressed, Kamchatkan tapestry.
Not being in a focussed, hurry, I found this great secondary, grass / tundra road that paralleled that awful, main corrugated one, giving me a much better, final section, ride into Ozervensky.
So how was I going to source my first lift out of Ozervensky, and where was I going to stay the night? I'd been mulling over a plan of 'attack' as I cycled, and as usual as the time for reality to be delivered approaches, things don't always look as simple as the vision encapsulated!
'The boys' were out at sea now fishing, but even if they were back, I sensed that chapter was now closed with great memories, time for something new!
I cycled around investigating any possible clue to either a place to stay, or a vehicle that maybe about to head north! I visited the fish packing factories for clues as too when the next load of student workers were due to arrive or leave? I even invested in a redundant, unwanted, lunch at the only café, and supposed, town information centre, to try connect to the more inner circle network. It all hit dead ends, and didn't even smell, as it normally does of opportunity, with this amount of hard work. The only clue I got was one I didn't really want to entertain: I was told to go to the little airport I'd passed why cycling in, and try for an aeroplane! "No ways, I'm not flying out..You have to search more, my boy. Was my plan flawed or was I caving, rather than rising, to the rising level of challenge?"
With I getting late, drizzle moving in and the prospects of a village, 'tent night' looking increasingly more likely, I moved the priority to finding guest house accommodation, and most importantly a bath / shower! I started another few initiatives, and one produced a strange, by usable, result! After an end of the line, helpful telephone call, I was told to wait outside the apartment complex where I was told there was a guest 'room', and 'someone' will soon arrive to help me! 20 minutes later this guy a bit older than me, pulls up in his open van, can't speak one word of English looks a bit surprised at who he has come to pick up, but eventually I feel compelled to put the bike in the back, climb in and go to 'where he will take me'. We had established by now, that he didn't want payment, which should have been my warning sign! I wanted privacy, my own room, my own shower / bath, with no obligation to socialise!
We drive back across the river, in and out of the industrial area, and he finally stops at what appears to be his home, on a sizeable property, right next to the river. He leads me in via the kitchen, where is startled looking wife, rushes out of the messy lounge to meet me. She had been watching TV in the lounge, and it was almost like she didn't know I was coming! There were awkward introductions, the husband leads me into this junk filled lounge, with the TV blaring. points to a couch in the one corner, indicating that's my bed, and the lounge is my bedroom, but shared with their TV viewing activities. All exactly what I don't want, and nothing that I can see that I do want. It's dark, dingy and full of dysfunctional sentimental 'junk'. I can't even see a bathroom or toilet, and this couple and their house, represent the boring, traditional, homelike, suburban life style that I only see as a scary prison, that's far away from my ideals!
Fuck it (sorry!), was I angry inside: Angry with myself getting me into this very bad, for me, hole, angry with my personality for not being able to just say "Sorry, yes, but no thanks", and then angry for him thinking I'll find this setup attractive! But then it was for free, and I probably did look like a desperate, poor, needy and 'by bicycle' tourist! He probably thought it was an amazing deal for me!
Next he offers me food, sort of 'on behalf of his wife', who will have to 'do it' all, and food with obligatory, polite, exotic tourist, entertainment from me is not at all what I want right now, and I really was full! I politely decline in my best Russian, and he almost disbelievingly retorts back: "Kak?"
Well my South African friends will be laughing now, as "Kak" in Afrikaans, sort of means "Bullshit": So here was this guy telling me "Bullshit, I must have some food" Haha, even I'm laughing at the whole situation now, myself.
'Kak' means why in Russian, and not knowing what "I've just eaten and am full" in Russian is I draw my 90 degree bent hand across my neck, just below my chin, indicating clearly, to me, and to most of the rest of the world that I'm full! Well this guy doesn't get it, so I do more animated version of the same theme...bloated cheeks, etc, but the guy is almost alarmed thinking maybe I'm a throat cutting madman! Nothing is working, the guy is shaking his head, his wife is alarmed at the complexities of this new guest, and my patience is limited, and I'm getting very frustrated, thinking this is just the 1st attempt at us communicating, and I have to share my bedroom with them! ... Eventually I make a shape like a pregnant stomach, and bloated cheeks and "Hey, he gets it!"
I quickly decide it's time for urgent pressure release, so I mange to get through to them that I have to go to the magazyn to buy some supplies, and go out to my bike which now has its panniers removed and stored away, and start heading out. The husband runs out after me, shouting "Toilat", and runs to show me an outside deep drop toilet that doesn't have a door, nor any running water connected to it! I say "Da, spaseba' (Yes, thanks) and cycle off with a huge new, curved ball, from outer space, challenge ahead! So much for choice hey!
As always it only got better...When I got back they had gone out, I decided to hibernate myself out of possible connection on my plush, hotel bed, and focus on my plan for finding a lift the next day! The returned late in the evening, I acknowledged their arrival , and got through to them that I would be leaving 'very early' the next day, and they shouldn't worry! Hey, and I thought this was the easy adventure!
As I thought through my plan and the options, I got my head around a 6h30 start, into Ozervensky, a quick check around for people maybe leaving early for the long journey North, and if nothing turns up, then I'd go 'park' myself at the last point of civilization where the remote road north begins. Stand there an hitch with a please help me, look on my face. I'd worked out that I'd at least get a lift later from my fishing camp mate, at the first river crossing. He delivered fish everyday, knew, supported my cause, and it would be virtually guaranteed. The key would be to stand out there for every minute of the day, till I get picked up Traffic was so infrequent I had to be there for every single opportunity. The reality of this with the rain I could hear outside, was that I had to prepare myself for a potentially long and tough time waiting in the rain. My thoughts then moved to how I'd connect to the 2nd lift from the first river crossing, and it all started looking like 'maybe not all such fun'. Worst was I ended up pushing and riding my bicycle all that way back again.. Hmm, my legs even twitched quite violently at that thought!
Anyway, I decided that was the plan, and we just take it one day at a time.
Next morning I was gone by 6h45, leaving a token 500 rubles ($18) under the TV remote control. There was very light drizzle, nobody around on the roads, but as I got to the focal point of Ozervensky, there were 5 people waiting for some transport, with overnight, at least, suitcases. I stop, park my bike, wait and watch, then approach them and ask what they are waiting for? They were from that group of Kamchatkan people who hate being approached by a tourist and being spoken to in bastardised Russian, begging an English response. That look on their face, and almost irritation at my approach. I really need this 'clue', so I try make it less stressful and easy for them with animation and sign language. I make out that they are waiting for a lift to the airport to catch the plane to Petropavlosk Kamchatka. Hmmm, the plane leaves early...I could easily make it to the airport, but hey that's not the plan, and I don't even have a ticket! I thank them, and move away to process this new information. I sense time is of the essence for the plane, so not a lot of time for debates!
I decide that this is all meant to be, and this is a sign that I must pursue possibly flying back. Also it will be 'much cheaper' than the helicopter, and if there is a ticket available then that was supposed to be! (I must say the prospect of a hot shower, nice accommodation in Petropavlosk Kamchatka, within 5 hours was very appealing!) It was time to race off to the 'little airport' with the bumpy, dirt runway, I'd passed cycling in from Kurilskoye Lake yesterday.
I arrived there at 7h15, with everything locked up, but at least the rain had stopped. Gradually staff members arrived, and I tried to suss out my chances with each one: It wasn't clear, some seemed positive, others indicated it was a very small aircraft, and wrote off my chances because of the bike The real positive thing was, I was at the right place at the right time, I could still buy a ticket, and here right at this airport office, so I now just had to wait in fate's hands. (Maybe that should rather be in the Mafia's hands!)
I was invited first into the office, asked for my passport and 'told' to wait... All pretty promising, and they do know about my bike. Hmmm, special treatment, or was that because I was first at the gate? Lots of people arrived after me, many needing tickets, and the waiting room became crowded with a long queue of impatient people waiting to see the lady who already had dealt with me, and had my passport.
I decide that today is time to be real patient day, and start working out how much I think the flight with my bike will cost, and how much I'm prepare to pay? The helicopter was 15 500 rubles, and I think I'll be in for around 6000. My limit? Well, having been now sucked quite far down the 'I could be 'home today' path, my limit has scarily moved a long way from the 'will not pay for a plane' position of last night, to a 'as long as it's cheaper than the helicopter' one!
I see what I think is the normal passenger airfare quote of 3950 rubles.
Another 90 minutes of waiting, and I get singled out to get my bicycle from outside, and bring it in for weighing. Hey, I must be on the passenger list, just the baggage weight to be factored in! It is a bit worrying that no price has been discussed yet, but with the room bustling with people, no access to the cashier, and being ordered around in Russian, this process is designed to put one in a weak, if not, non-negotiable process. I decide that I'm at the mercy of the system, people's integrity estimate but noting opened, and how badly I want to be in Petropavlosk Kamchatka today! I give them an estimate for my bike weight, the weigh the pannier bags, and it all doesn't seem a problem. With hindsight, I realise that behind the scenes all my reactions each person I interact with's assessment of my level of desperation and affluence gets feed back to the final 'nooseman'. Their assistant finally pulls me aside, privately shows me the figure of 12 550. "This is serious rape", is my first reaction I wince, raise my eye brows, say in English: "That's very high", but the noose is already around my neck, it's either that noose that's to be tensioned, or I decide on a once and for all, never come back escape to freedom now! I still had two choices, but the one had only bad and difficult strings attached, and the other had almost instant gratification, but post rape soreness attached.
In a split second I capitulated, chose to fly, and fumbled in my pocket for the 12 550. I didn't see the point of asking for official receipts etc, this was a well oiled machine, that could neutralise me at every crack, it was better to go quietly!
They seemed relieved their plan had worked, and it was now just splitting the windfall between the Mafia members! I wondered how they feel when they go home tonight? I though about it, and from my experience here so far I sense, they don't have a second thought it's deemed acceptable behaviour, and probably condoned by the powers that be, as a defense of their low salaries paid to these people.
I had a bitter taste in my mouth for just 20 minutes, as I reflected on where I was mentally at 6 30 that morning, and where I'd be by 3 this afternoon! It was a small price to pay for the dramatic and positive transition. In some small way I felt an adventure had been ripped away from me, but I soon rationalised that it's loss was the right option.
The final act of tourist humility was that I was given seat number 1, on the 20 seater plane, and this seat was the middle of the front row, with the solid bulkhead separating the passengers section from the pilots cockpit was literally right at my knee, and I had virtually zero view on a flight over some amazing volcano, river and tundra country!
Oh, well the one hour, undistracted mind space allowed me a wonderful reflection on what this whole adventure, since I left Petropavlosk Kamchatka on the 17th of August, had been about!
Martha Madsen, amazingly had a room for me, and by 5pm that day I was wonderfully showered, settled in my own, familiar room, sharing stories with a few of her other traveler guests!
The following day, would be time to write up these blog posts.. A time that requires, peace, focus and lots of reflection time, and one that I find surprisingly rewarding and has a huge personally impact on deepening my adventure experience!