What Tibet can do to a cassette body

Rebuilding a tandem bicycle for a South American tour

I am beginning to dismantle Zippy, our 40,000 mile world touring tandem, in preparation for our next self supported tour, this time South America. Before each tour, I completely dismantle Zippy for three reasons: to find our which parts need replacing so I can order them and fix the worn parts, catch any impending failures of frame, rims or drive-train, and to re-familiarize myself with every part. Since many of the places we tour are hundreds,sometimes over a thousand, miles from a proper bike shop, I have to be able to fix pretty much anything.  Anyone who owns a tandem will tell you tandems need more attention than single bikes; I might have to rebuild the hub somewhere in the high Andes, or the middle of the Amazon basin, while being munched on by ants and mosquitoes and critters we’ve never seen before.

Next lesson; rebuilding the innards of a cassette hub

I will probably not replace this cassette body; it has quite a few thousand miles on it in Asia, and if the hub fails, it won’t be here, but in the internal workings. The next post will show these parts, and tell how you can rebuild your own, on the road.

Mark July on your calendar for the beginning of our tour. It will include the Andes, and the Amazon basin, but water and whatever dirt roads we find appealing. You can click on the RSS feed to get a notification of posts.

A nap can be the highlight of a good day. Tired from exercise or chores, cool sheets, and the fuzz of a favorite stuffed bear, or two, is just the thing. No more words required. We all love a good nap.

We were more than a little nervous, as we rode our tandem up to the first security station at the border between Laos and Vietnam. Claire, a Western woman with a passport saying she was born in Saigon, renamed Ho Chi Minh City after the war, was bound to attract attention. But the attention was brief, not at all negative, and we passed through without delay, something of a miracle for our checkered past at Asian borders.

North Vietnamese Tank on Route 9

The countryside changed little from Laos at first, until we topped the border mountains and looked out over a sea of jungle toward Khe Sanh, Dong Ha and the Gulf of Tonkin.  We stopped for a break at a pedestal featuring a war era North Vietnamese tank. A driver and guide translated for an American and his wife, who were visiting to see the places where his brother had fought. He wanted to understand the war that had defined his brother’s life.

Lam Son 719, The Battle to Cut the Hoh Chi Minh Trail

For years, the American military had been trying to cut, disrupt, interdict movement of troops and material from North Vietnam through the web of jungle trails in Laos nicknamed the Ho Chi Minh Trail. For us, managing two days of the worst of it, much of it pushing our tandem bicycle (see photo above), it was a mini-hell of mud, mosquitoes and fear of unexploded ordnance, with the added uncertainty of being lost. I can’t imagine what it must have been like for the troops walking with heavy loads for weeks or months, and the truck drivers fighting the horrific mud path, in constant fear for the B52s dropping huge loads, and platform gunships circling above laying down a hail of large-caliber fire. We had it easy.

Ho Chi Minh Trail Stream Crossing

Hoh Chi Min Trail Troop and Material Movements

From supposedly reliable intelligence, Abrams was able to follow the progress of troops and supplies south, and judge where and when the North planned to attack over the border into Vietnam. To paraphrase from A Better War, Lewis Sorley: Troops advanced south in waves 500 to 600, moving at 12.2 kilometers per day, mostly by foot, the trucks saved for supplies and ammunition. We were able to move perhaps 60 Kilometers on the unimproved section, partly because our load was not on our feet, but on our bicycle, and partly because we had no backup supplies; we had to get out of that jungle in short order.

Losses to North Vietnamese Troops on the Hoh Chi Minh Trail

To further paraphrase Sorley: The trail was so fraught with danger that 22 to 50% of the troops were lost to illness (probably malaria, parasites and injuries) B52 strikes with heavy bombs and cluster bombs (bombies), later the feared gunships/gun platforms. To get material (food, ammunition) down the trail to staging areas near Vietnam, they had to put 10 tons into the northern end of the trail to get one ton to destination.

Along Vietnam Route 9 looking back toward Laos and Sepon

We entered Vietnam via Route 9, the main line of communication and supply for Operation Lam Son 719, the offensive against Tchepone and the Trail, that might have been pivotal, had not the political battle back in the States already had been lost. From our perch with the tank, overlooking the dense jungle and steep, if not high, mountains, I could only wonder that any conceivable battle plan could have results in such a brutal and foreign environment. And yet, this battle, conceived, and timed by General Abrams, could have turned the tide. However, South Vietnamese President Thieu made a political decision, and their troops stalled short of Tchepone. Adding to ARVN (The South Vietnam Army) confusion, U.S. Intelligence had failed to tell Abrams just how poor was the condition of Route 9. Also he North Vietnamese resistance was much stronger than anticipated; they were far more willing to take casualties than ARVN. The North was always more willing to sacrifice troops than ARVN and the U. S. Army, and this was no more evident than the battle for Tchepone (Sepon) and Route 9 in an attempt to cut the Hoh Chi Minh Trail, the supply and troop route we slogged through in Laos.

Cutting the Ho Chi Minh Trail: Fail

B52s had been taking a heavy toll on the battlefield, and on troop and supply movements on the Trail, but the North kept moving to the front via the Hoh Chi Minh Trail. It must have been very frustrating for General Abrams; so close to closing the Trail that he thought it was one of the two most important tactics for, if not winning the war, at least achieving a reasonable  peace with the Demilitarized Zone in tact.

Our Route 9 was nothing like it was for ARVN and American support troops: “Route 9 was at best a narrow twisting, nearly unimproved surface or so it was from the air. The reality was much worse.” Our Route 9 was smooth, mostly downhill and blessedly free of heavy traffic.

Bicycling the Song Quan Tri River to Batong

Batong Villagers Giving Silly Westerners the Bad News

Naturally we could not let such easy conditions last! We decided to take another “short cut”  down the Song Quang Tri river to Quang Tri along the coast. However a typhoon had recently caused epic flooding. After a half-day of pedaling ruined roads and mud, we only made it as far as Batong. There the whole village turned out to laugh at the Western couple on the funny double bicycle who didn’t know that the bridge had been washed away. Sometimes not knowing the language can create issues. However, we saw some beautiful country we would not have seen otherwise. The Song Quang Tri river must have been a constant trap for U.S. gunboats with rice paddy dams and jungle lining both banks, giving cover. Another reminder of just how difficult it is to fight a war on the other guy’s turf. We retraced our route to arrive back at Route 9 just before dark. We easily found accommodation, but it took an hour to find food, all venues booked for a special holiday.

Sobering Reminder in Hue

Our next stops were Dong Ha, Hue and across Hai Van Pass to Danang where we planned a couple of rest days at China Beach, a noted if not notorious, R&R spot for U.S. troops. South on Route 1A, the coast road we encountered many ruins of anti-aircraft installations, particularly along the paralleling railroad tracks leading to the Demilitarized Zone. Hue was the site of brutal fighting and at least one North Vietnamese mass killing of civilians according to Sorley. We spent several days there waiting in vain for the rain to ease, but enjoyed our walks around the walled city, and the good food available everywhere. The feared Hai Van Pass was a non event, in cycling terms; our legs were so strong from Tibet and Laos and the sea level air filled with oxygen.

From Hai Van Pass looking north

Topping Hai Van Pass

For some these posts will seem without passion, neither patriotic flag waving, or screaming anti-war. I was never was either of those camps. Conflicted about the Vietnam War from the time the military rejected me as physically unfit to serve, which seems amazing now. Had the medical community known to give antibiotics for bleeding ulcers, I would have served. I would not have run to Canada, nor gone to jail. It’s not what West Virginia country boys did.

Cycling through Laos and Vietnam gave me a perspective on the war-that-never-was, for me. It also helped me understand the decisions made, and the truly horrific conditions both sides faced. My passion is for understanding people, all kinds of people, the things that are important in their lives, and ways we can better communicate to avoid conflicts of culture, religion and ideology that lead to no win wars.

That’s what, with Lewis Sorley‘s help, we’ll discuss in the final post of this series.

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This year, Claire and I will dance our fool hearts out to the great swing tunes of sixty years ago, and we’ll dance into the new year.
New Year’s Day, we will do what we have done each of the New Year’s Days of our relationship: we’ll do one of our several favorite forms of exercise, probably bicycle, eat one of our (healthy) favorite foods, take a nap, and enjoy the pleasures of married life, not necessarily in that order. We used to take a dip in the cold ocean, but that doesn’t work too well here in Arizona. Our tradition is to start the New Year off together doing the things we look forward to doing all the coming year. It is for us, a long and honored tradition.

It’s good to have traditions for the New Year, but not all traditions are positive. One I have done without for many years is to make a New Year’s resolution. Here’s why:

You will break it. Sad to say, nearly all New Year’s resolutions are broken, probably within a few weeks to a couple of months of their making. Oh, the motivation is pure. Say, you really, really resolve to lose that ten pounds you gained over the holidays, not to mention the three to five pounds that crept up on you over the year, like they have each year since you passed twenty-five. Don’t be too hard on yourself, it happens to the purest among us. It’s just the natural aging process, our wealthy society, our holiday binging philosophy, and just plain human nature.

The New Years resolution dilemma has one big weak link. Everyone makes resolutions at the same time each year, and when one weak soul breaks their resolution, we break ours in commiseration, because: 1. We are so compassionate. 2. We’re just waiting for an excuse to break our own resolution. I go with number two. Regardless, we all end up breaking all our resolutions and becoming each other’s co-dependents. Now we’re worse off than if we hadn’t made a resolution in the first place; no improvement and several new co-dependent relationships. Bad. Bad.

I propose the following approach to resolutions: Make resolutions; just don’t make them at the New Year. Any time of year is fine, just not the New Year.

Resolutions are best achieved when they are: realistic, backed by research, shared with a very few, and followed up with daily thought and action. Now all this is not so hard as it might appear.

Realistic: means 20 pounds over two months, not 20 pounds before the dance next week.

Backed by research: means you learn all you can about where you can cut unnecessary calories from your diet, and know exactly how many hours a week of what kind of exercise will take to reach your goal.

Share with a very few: means to share with your significant other, and at most a small group of supportive friends; don’t share with anyone who might want you to fail out of jealousy.

Take daily thought and action toward your goal: this is both the most difficult part of the equation, and the most productive. Make a chart for food intake and exercise hours, and keep it current. This is not a torture. This is a motivation.

Now you are set for achieving your goal; just wait until everyone has broken his or her New Years resolutions, and then you’ll be free of pressure and can concentrate on actually achieving yours.

Then comes the sweet part. You can brag.

Philip Ashley's letter and photo of us in 1995

We received this letter, and the photograph, this week. We have been writing back and forth since 1995. He is now in a nursing home in Kentucky and obviously enjoys our letters as much as we enjoy his. He seems to be anticipating his passing, and is going through his possessions, passing them on to people who might enjoy them.

Seeing ourselves fifteen years ago, on our first big adventure ,
is certainly a blessing. Knowing one man from rural Kentucky has been thinking about his meeting with us so long ago, on his great adventure of driving to see the West, now in the twilight of his life, is priceless. We remember that moment, among a thousand moments on that trip, as special.

We are always a little surprised, and always delighted, to receive these letters. There have been two in the last few months. The first told a long story of his finding something valuable on the railroad right-of-way,returning it and getting a letter from the president of the railroad. He sent us the ORIGINAL letter from 40 years ago; this is why I know he is preparing for the end.

Someday there will be no more letters from: Phillip Ashley, R324, Nazareth, Kentucky  40048. We may take a year to notice; then we will look at this picture and cry for an old friend, so brief, yet so special.

If any of you remember how to hand write a letter, and lick a stamp, write him a note, send him a picture of yourself, and mention that you know, Mr. and Mrs. Bob and Claire Rogers.

Thank you for taking the time. You will bring one person great joy. You will receive 100 fold.

Misty Morning in Shangri-la (Claire)

We took the recommendation of Bill Weir and Alice and Andoni, cyclists we’d met way back in Almaty in 2005, and took a back road rather than Highway 214 to Tiger Leaping Gorge. We had at least one climb each day, one day we had three climbs totaling about 18 kilometers. The road is now paved except for washouts and we had very light traffic and beautiful views. Villages along the way were full of hard-working but friendly people eager to say “Hello!”. Coming the backway into Tiger Leaping Gorge was more fun because we didn’t feel so much a part of the tourist hordes. The big rock slide blocked vehicle traffic so we had the gorge to ourselves for most of the morning.

Shangri-la Vista

Clothsline in Shangri-la

Plowing with Oxen

Fall Colors in the Mountains of Shangri-la

Nearing Another Pass With Moss Covered Trees

Travertine Pools of Bai Shui Tai

The main reason we went the longer, back way to Lijiang was that I (Claire) wanted to see the travertine terraces at Bai Shui Tai. Unlike at Havasupai, these terraces are perched on a hillside, rather than in a canyon.

Flower in Shangri-la

Dahlias grow everywhere.

Carved Headstones

Village in Shangri-la

The expansive valleys on this route were stunning; deep enough that we couldn’t see all the way to the bottom.

Mountains of Shangri-la

Chili Harvest

View from our $4.20 room

Lunch Time in a Shangri-la Field

All Dressed Up

Haba Snow Mountain

Tiger Leaping Gorge

After the rain in Tiger Leaping Gorge

The Up

The Top

Lucky proving that dandelions grow everywhere, even at 14,339 feet in China

Lunch in Ya Jaing

Claire: We’re getting to the stage where we think about food a lot, and we tried to make a decent dent in the big bucket of rice, but we failed to come close to finishing it. Yes, we’re eating pork now, or any kind of protein for that matter, and we eat whatever vegetables they bring us. At the grocery stores, we study and poke the packages and hope they’ll sustain us through a night of camping. Yogurt and cookies (a whole roll) is a before bed tradition of carbohydrate loading and we even bought Tang for our water bottles tomorrow. Wish I had some Cheerios, they always charge me up. If you’re out pedaling today or tomorrow, push a pedal stroke for us, we’ll need it; tomorrow; (tonight for you) we climb 7,000 feet to well over 15,000 feet and hope to get down in elevation to find a camping spot low enough to allow for sleep, before dark.

Though the mountain was crowded with lots of construction workers, it was somehow comforting to have some of the road crew trying to beckon us over to their fire to warm up. They didn’t seem to understand that our lightweight clothing was plenty for as hard as we were working but that we would cool down if we stopped. Much as we would have liked to have tea and a visit, we had to keep moving. We got many cheers, thumbs up, much misinformation and even a push from two road monitors.

So far we are able to post on our own site, but we will be careful with words.

We will still post still photos, and narratives of our travels. And Lucky will still be able to do his blog!

Today we went to the Panda Breeding Center to show Lucky his cousins; here’s his post:

What a day. My cousin pandas are big, even the babies are big, and they are always eating  something called bamboo. I hear my friends P-bear, Foster and Lai Lai talk about it, but they don’t eat either. The Chinese people are proud of their pandas. There were lots of Chinese there making flashes with little cameras and getting into the pictures. I got into  Bob and Claire’s pictures too. I think I’m prettier than those pandas. The old ones just laid on their backs and ate bamboo, but the young ones wrestled and pretended to bite and rolled around. One even slept in a tree. I guess they really are bears. Claire liked the babies best. I’m jealous. She coooed over me, but nothing like she did with the baby pandas! We even got to watch the bottom end of the baby feeding process. Evidently, baby pandas need lots of help with keeping their stuffing moving through and nurses are on constant display stroking tiny panda butts (theirs didn’t have tags that said Made in China). Bob and Claire cheered for that panda when he finally finished.

Claire: It was really fun to see so many pandas and yes, the tiny ones were really adorable, but the cubs, up to a year and a half were more fun to watch. In slow motion, they loll and wobble and tumble and wrestle. They gum, and paw and flop and blink and yawn. Every move they make is absolute innocence and honesty. With the adults needing most of their day just to feed, I don’t understand why the little ones, who are growing so fast, aren’t constantly hungry and lean. Their diet must be very rich.

The rest of our day was fun too. We rode into the center of Chengdu to meet with Peter Snow-Cao of Bike China Adventures http://www.bikechina.com/index.php. He was able to offer lots of very helpful advice about our route: he confirmed that it will be grueling. On the way home, we got lost three times, it was great.

Bob: Now I know why we get lost so much; Claire likes it. Hmmmm. Claire shot another video as we wove through traffic on our way home. Per the above problems, it will be awhile before you see it, but worth the wait. Most of the people we ride with in Tucson will know that I prefer hills to flat traffic rides, but that I have a fair amount of testosterone for an old guy. Well, there is something about Chinese traffic, chaotic, crazy, dangerous, that brings out the old mountain bike racing instincts and skills from twenty years ago. I get into a zone and we merge with the throngs. I absorb the pattern of traffic flow, read “body language” and know when to challenge the cabbie, and when to track stand and let him pass. It is thrilling and calming at the same time, and I can’t get enough of it. I could do without the deepening cough I get from the horribly polluted air, but it will only be a few more days before serious elevations will have me wishing for air of any kind, polluted or not. Peter says our, now generally set, route through Tibetan cultural area (better than Lhasa he opines) will reach elevations of 15,333 feet at least. Yikes.

Tonight we tried another of the family fandians in our local hutong, and had even more fun than before. This time Claire took photocopies of food pages from a travel guide so we would have some idea of what we were ordering. We ordered fish and green beans and eping pejo (they are big and we share) When the fish dish came it was huge and loaded with all the things I love, garlic, chillies and ginger, also tiny bones and the head and tail. The strange head meat (brains?) was tasty. When the green beans came they were peas. Oh well, 50% isn’t bad. Everything was delicious. There was a general loud banter between the staff, regulars and the lao wai (foreigners). Everything we did was watched with general approval of our eating style. One other diner loudly proclaimed that Claire was very good with chopsticks, and better than me. True.

Life is not easy for most Chinese, the average wage here is about 10 kwai ($1.46) PER DAY. Our expensive, for them, dinner this night, because of the protein, was about $6. We made their day. Our average daily expenses so far in China, $29 including the panda tour and special van from the airport. Travel doesn’t have to be expensive to be fun.