18. It's hard to be REALLY alone these days, and the scariest bear day yet...!

"Kamchatka Peninsula" by Bike and Kayak
Mon 6 Aug 2012 06:12
56:014.38N 142:32.37E

Fog, fog, fog again, but time for a big breakfast, I've got 114km ahead, if I want to make it to Ust Kamchatsk today... I don't have to, 'we' will just take it as it comes, but whatever it will be probably 6-8 hours of cycling ahead. Four hours to midday, then set up tent, for lunch and a nap, then maybe 3pm to 6 or 7pm when it's cooler. All this needs fuel...breakfast for a start!

Coffee, a big plate of oats with dried fruit, will do the trick! I'm half way through making breakfast and these two dogs bolt into my camp area. The one, a Siberian husky, is real friendly, and hangs around, I'm sure for food, but I wonder where they come from? Oh well, I bond with the one that stayed around and eventually give it my left over dregs of oats. I'm on the road by 8am and it all feels good again. The road surface deteriorates in patches and I'm harshly reminded of those bad corrugation days, but thankfully this is the exception rather than the norm.

About one hour into the ride, I see a car parked off the road and a guy picking the vegetation. As I draw near, I see he is the owner of the dogs, and his rustic home is just behind. Friendly guy, he greeted me as I cycled past, with an very surprised look on his face, wanting of an interaction. I should have stopped, but somehow felt seeing him had taken away
some of the specialness of my isolation and aloneness. Least I'd solved the dog mystery.

After about an hour and a half's cycling, I come across the wide Kabecky river and long bridge going across it. This was the main river I was planning on getting water from, but it's totally dried up, event parched in places. Amazing combination of ornately river sculptured, sand islands and underground volcanic action driven above ground mounds. I love this, I leave the bike on the bridge and go exploring. Some great photos, and lots of question about this river's interesting life and current dormant state relative too the smaller one I'd camped alongside.

Soon the terrain changes, I enter a valley flanked with pretty big volcanic mountains...Prepare for some hills, my boy! They start gently, undulating, making for exhilarating cycling for the aggressive cyclist, and I enjoy the challenge, although I do feel the 'lead' from the last undulating pushes before Klyuchi. My legs feel nice and strong though, gee how they have got stronger since my start in Yakutsk. I can feel it! I love how the body responds s simply and efficiently to hard workout exercise... I flippantly wondered if the top cyclists have ever tried training with a pannier loaded bike, and how a few weeks of that would make their racing bike feel like a whole new level of race machine!

Anyway, with the mountain passes now with me it's time to exploit those stronger legs! These passes are fairly short and sweet, so 'we' take them in our stride and enjoy the often dramatic and changing scenery views they offered.

All the time I remain alert for the presence of bears and on the more open plain downhill sections I freewheel scanning every open space for the glimpse of a bear but nothing. I do worry on the very slow uphill grinds how I'll deal with a huge grizzly popping out to 'say hello' as I struggle uphill into his waiting grope!

Around midday I'm feeling short on calories and deserving of my planned rest, and decide that at the next (?) river I'll be stopping. My map did show more rivers later, but as you gather it's a bit of a gamble as to what lies ahead!

Spot on 12h30 I see the welcoming blue sign ahead, the sign the starts with a "p" for the Russian word river, and will then have the name of the river following the 'p'. Generally rivers with this name board, are significant and flowing....but not always. This one was all I could expect and more for a rest stop: Great flowing river, easy access, and a Level, tent peg friendly campsite down next to the river. It was almost a car park space, just a bit steep road access. All perfect, set up tent, no flysheet, just for mozzie protection, and then on to making a hearty salami, wheat, and tomato source lunch, followed by a slab of chocolate for desert, washed down with coffee. All followed by a nice 2 hour nap in a wonderful, peaceful, bubbling river setting! Dream on mate, you think you are alone out here, mate? Well you aren't and your whole state of mind is about to change!

Firstly I hear this car with music blaring cross the bridge above me, slow down, take the steep makeshift path to 'the' car park, and then drive a metre away from my tent stopping with the bumper of the car a metre away from the river bank where I'm cooking! Fuck it, guys! As they edge forward to this spot I protest with waving arms and shaking head, but this seems to spur them on to get closer. As they stop, four doors burst open, and they shout at me waving their arms, like I'm their long lost friend, each with a bottle of liquor in one hand and cigarette in the other. These guys meant party business, I meant rest business, the two don't go together, and so I had to manage this quickly and effectively! But how? They seemed intoxicated already! I chose to act pissed off, ignore their approaches and just point to my tent, and indicate I want to sleep. The were only to keen for me to share their vodka, grabbing my arm with my cup, trying to force me to take some, but I didn't want to go there. Well not yet, anyway. In some strange way I could relate to their friendly, all inclusive, party spirit, but in another way I just didn't need this experience 'out here'. The one guy was almost scaringly aggressive, and I had to really be assertive and stand my ground. One of them was the charmer, cool shades, gold chain and rings, but also missing one front tooth...These were rough and tough dudes from Ust Kamchatsk, I found out. The charmer read the situation, and decided controlling his mates and then warming too me was the strategy. He even knew a few words of English, so soon we were at least talking! As I gave them an inch, they came in trying to take a foot! I say take, but they didn't want anything from me other than for me to accept their friendship and vodka! The charmer even said something along the lines of: "We Russian, it's the Russian tradition" I did feel bad, weakened to having vodka in my coffee and peace reigned for a few minutes. The music is back on, blaring away, they are shouting and laughing, and any point of eye contact brings me back in their 'ring'!

The one guy offers me a 50 ruble note ($6)...I'm astounded...do they think I'm short of cash? Then he asks me for change in notes. Quick thinking I say I don't have any money on me, I 'll draw with a card at Ust Kamchatsk. He seems satisfied with that answer, but hey maybe they would try and mug me? It didn't feel like that meant bad, but what was this money thing all about?

The guy can't get my name right, he keeps asking me what my name is, and well as for me being South African, they just can't get it! I repeatedly hear them talking about me as an American, so I correct them as often as I could, but it's beyond them. As another gift, or apology for his earlier behaviour the aggressive guy gives me a miniature boxing glove, in Russian colours, with 'Russia' written on it. The charmer butts in: "Souvenir... " I accept the gift with obvious genuine gratitude and conclude these guys are just good basic 'boys', like you find all over the world, pushing the limits, wanting to generously share their 'higher level' inebriated state with a visitor to their country. For me I was still inn Siberian wilderness, and as I looked at my waiting tent, I wasn't in the 'boys, let's get plastered together' frame of mind! We had compromised OK, and I saw they respected me for that. We got onto the subject of bears and the lectures and warning started, but this time from alcohol charged machos. They thought I didn't understand so drew pictures and used dramatic arm and facial movements to ensure I understood. They concluded I did understand but must be crazy! I walk away with a plateful of my food to be alone, eat in peace on the bridge above the river. They get the message and go back to their private drinking party..

A second car, heading the to the ferry, stops just before the bridge, and a teenage boy gets out with an empty 2 litre bottle, to fill with water at the river. He goes down past my bike and 'the boys', they chat a bit, and then call me down...It sounds serious, so a head back down. Very excitedly the charmer tells me that there is a huge grizzly bear on the road six kilometres back...! Well just the news I want to hear at this point, but what can I do, the show must go on, and so I react outwardly casually saying "Niet probleem", but inside is some unresolved turmoil, so I top up my plate with what's left in the pot, and head back to the 'alone comfort' of my bridge spot! The youngster strolls back to the car, gets in, but the car doesn't take off. After a couple of minutes he climbs out again and although unknown to me at the time, turns out to be clearly under instruction from his parents, and walks across to me on the bridge. His approach is deadly serious but almost shy. I wonder if he is interested in my bike and bicycle adventure, so put out my hand as a warm introduction. He cuts straight to the point, reiterating the story of the bear, but this time with a few English words thrown in, to ensure I understood! I told him I understand, and it's not a problem for me, I'm prepared. He was clearly now astounded: He now knew I understood, but wasn't worried. Well this was confusing, because from what he'd been taught I should not be cycling there. Inside me my turmoil had increased, but really I had no choice, this was a risk I'd opted for, and without the benefit (or curse!) of this warning I could run into a grizzly any moment in the day while I'm 'out there'. I had to thank him, and assure him all was ok, but somehow he seemed reluctant to leave me. Maybe he really cared, maybe he wanted to learn something new, maybe he hadn't achieved the outcome his parents had instructed him to obtain, but whatever he looked bewildered, and I couldn't help. As young and as impressionable as he was, I sense our interaction will have some big questions for his thoughts on life.

Having finished my food I chose to return to 'the boys', clean up the 'kitchen' and try get some rest. The car drove off, and I waved them all a goodbye, getting three return acknowledgements.

Well 'the boys' were also packing up, but couldn't help themselves and went over thee bear thing again.... I just nodded and kept quiet. They all shook my hand and after wheel spinning back up the make shift path, they were soon gone, and it was all quiet and I was alone again! Alone, but a changed state, full of turmoil in my gut. People who really cared had caused this, only them... If I'd not seen anyone else at this stop, I'd be resting in my tent already, peaceful and content with just 50 more kilometres left on an amazing first stage of my Kamchatka expedition. I was far from peaceful now, but this perspective helped me regain my peace...well almost! After deciding I'd make my walking pole and garden sickle more readily available on the bike, I went ahead with my rest. My mind was still racing around scenarios, but needing the brief nap I was soon fast asleep.

I woke earlier than I'd set the alarm feeling surprisingly upbeat...the rest had been good and it was time to face my realities

With the walking pole and sickle now ready at hand on the front pannier I set off rather excitedly, the anxiety had been largely converted. I just got into my routine. And hoped there weren't any big uphiills near the all important '6 km back', mark!

Within a few kilometres I had my self sufficient confidence back. It's funny how other people who are in no ways qualified to provide advice, can just rock my security like they did I'm not the world expert on being out in the wild with grizzlies, but I have had five or so close up experiences in Alaska and the Yukon, and feel I have some understanding of what's involved, and how the bears react. That's not to say I was over confident, lets just say positively fateful, and knew what I had to do to give myself best chance of making through without incident.

I don't know what made me do it but instead of shouting "Hey bear" the word 'Shastee'' came to mind as now more appropriate It or a word sounding very much like it. used a lot by the Russians, but although I still don't know what it means, it sounded a good Russian replacement and had a psychologically positive affect on my frame of mind!

As the six km mark approached, I have to admit that adrenaline levels were elevated and the "Shastee's" were louder and more frequent, but the nice thing was confidence and excitement were at new highs too!

The area passed without incident, the bear, on hearing me approach just moved away to watch me pass by!

I remained on constant alert, enjoying the amazing cycling conditions and feeling lucky to be out in the wilderness experiencing it all as naked as can be. As the road starts moving back towards the Kamchatka River, the terrain changed dramatically to tundra marshlands. Large flat, lush tundra 'meadows' dotted with water patches, some qualifying as lakes, others just weeping marsh lands. Bird life improved, and a cold head wind tasted of salt air and the sea...Ust Kamchatsk and the Bering Sea weren't far off now. Around 4 30pm I reached the Ust Kamchatsk welcome sign, but it didn't look like anything significant and having been caught before I didn't raise my hopes of an imminent end point! No signs, lots of potential roads, and after a few dead ends into the usual Siberian broken down desolation, I follow a small, local bus across a bridge and onto a more substantial asphalt road that leads me the 3 kilometres into Ust Kamchatsk proper! I can feel the sea strongly now, it's all fogged out, but noticeably colder than it's been so far on the trip. Thee main road is flanked by the traditional double storey wood planked buildings, but these seem more maintained than other villages. Maybe it was just the noticeably brighter colour schemes against the fog. I cycle past a unique statue of Lenin standing out of place sticking out above long unmaintained grass park. It looks quite fitting, in it's prominence, yet lack of a destination square, this town has moved on, and wants that acknowledged! I get to the end off this main road, and I can now see the huge lake that adjoins the Bering Sea, where the Kamchatka River finally enters the sea...The road takes a sharp left towards a seemingly disconnected town, and the cold sea breeze is now biting at my exposed skin....A good place to turn back and look for accommodation. There was nothing obvious I'd seen, lots a different magazyns (shops), even two cafe's, but nothing that stood out as a hotel, although there definitely is one here. Time for the normal exploring initiative, and seeing two flower seller ladies I thought I'd appeal to their sense of good citizenship. The one lady real old and beyond understanding my sign language, but here youngish friend immediately connected to my project with a 'Come follow
me' smile on her face. She grabs her bicycle we cycle together exchanging a few niceties and laughs, and within 300 metres she points to the guest house sign and takes me through to 'reception'. No answer, but a phone number on the door. She curses at not having her phone with her, but knocks loudly and repeatedly on the neighbours door. The neighbour appears grumpily at the door, this women literally forces her to be part of the 'helping me' process, pressing her to phone the number. Lots off words exchanged, they ask how many nights, and it seems a deal is done. The flower lady tells me I must wait and the landlady will arrive soon. With that she says she is leaving, and I express my deepest thanks for both of their assistance's.

The scary looking landlady arrives in 10 minutes, looks a bit dismayed at me and my bike, but we head into the guest house for business. It's got two bedrooms, 5 beds, a nice kitchen and a pokey toilet shower but all I need to savor the end of this quite tough stage. First mistake: I don't follow her cue, and remove my muddy cycling shoes on entering the apartment. She takes it surprisingly well and gives me a polite 'touriste' first warning, reprimand. All the paperwork is done and she moves into a warmer caring motherly role, showing me the shower, organising a blanket in the room, so I could bring my bike in without wrecking her place. This all feels good, and a good welcome to Ust Kamchatsk!

She leaves and I walk into the shower / toilet and look at myself in the mirror: "Gee boy, I'm surprised she even spoke to you" Unshaven, covered in dust, and looking like a real weary tramp!

An hour later, and I was showered, shave and shampoo-ed, enjoying a welcoming 'peevo' (draft beer) and dinner from the local magazyn stocks! And sitting in front of a small TV watching the Olympics in Russian. Life couldn't have been better, and I immediately planned to take 4 or so days off just staying in one place unwinding.

Climbing into a real bed felt good that night...

More about 'exciting' Ust Kamchatsk in the next post...