We were planning to ride from, Strung Treng, Cambodia into Laos, but after
about the fifth person told us that the roads weren't suited for wheeled
vehicles of any kind, and only really passable by hoofed animals, we
decided that we'd hire us a boatman. Word has it that the border guards
pay their superior officer somewhere in the neighborhood of $8,000 for
their position. The reason being is that they extort an illegal "stamping"
fee for each visa they stamp. This works out so that if a traveler either
wants to enter or exit Cambodia, they've gotta pay. As seasoned travelers
with a few months under our belts we've gotten quite good at getting
around these sorts of extortion brides and fees. Situated just up off the
bank of the river and bordered by palms, and looking less than anything
official, was the bamboo hut immigration office. We entered the two-room
building, and I was the first one called in to get my passport stamped.
The officer looked over my passport, pulled out the stamp and pad from his
disheveled desk drawer, and then casually demanded two dollars to get my
stamp. With some refusal the price was dropped to one dollar, at which I
countered by asking for a receipt if I was going to pay. Of course they
couldn't provide me with any receipt since it wasn't a legitimate
government fee, so they just kept up with their demand of one dollar.
Jamie came in next and the tag-team effort began. Jamie pulls out a Peace
Pedalers sticker and slowly, and very calmly, explains that we are on a
5-year expedition and must keep track of all money spent. All the while
Jamie's reinforcing our stance by repetitiously explaining, "we're happy
to pay the fee, but we're gonna need a receipt." It became a battle of
wills. We continued to hold firm that we weren't paying until they could
produce a receipt even when they dropped their price to one dollar for
both passports. Now it does seem ridiculous to haggle over fifty cents
each, but it wasn't a matter of money, but of principle. It was just past
eleven and the sun was already hotter, and had the sting of a green papaya
salad with extra peppers, so we were in no rush. We continued to parry
their demands with our request for a receipt for a good ten minutes until
their faces washed over in an expressionless defeat. Victory was ours.
They waived us off, and we very politely gave our thanks as we walked out
the door holding back giggles and huge smiles. Our boatman was shocked
when we told him that we didn't pay a cent when he asked us how much we
paid. We had heard that some travelers had paid as much as five dollars.
The boat we took resembled a stretched out canoe of sorts with a long-tail
prop extending a good five feet off the back of the boat. It was a
reasonably scenic boat ride, and since we had the boat to ourselves we
were able to stretch out and were somewhat able to get comfortable.
However, my gut was still churning - I later found out that I had a
microscopic guest rider with me at the time named Giardia. Giardia and I
hadn't been getting along all too well over the past couple of days, and
his mood and intentions weren't showing any signs of changing. We set off
from the Laos border under the direct merciless midday sun with fifty
kilometers left to pedal. We didn't talk much and after we crossed the
ferry to Don Khong we rolled into one of the first guesthouses we came
across. At that point even my deep copper-colored skin that so rarely
burns was showing a nice tinge of crimson, and our brains felt like they
would soon start bubbling out of our ears. The heat in the Mekong Valley
was intense and our bodies were crushed from the mid-day ride.

The next day Jamie took off on a separate three-day tour to Pakse as he
was feeling better and was eager to see life in Loas on the Mekong River.
The little bastard Giardia, suffering from an inferiority complex of
sorts, continued to flex his muscles to keep his presence known. That
night I held in the palm of my left hand two pills of Cipero. Over this,
with my right hand, I held a foot-long string with a small piece of quartz
glued to the end. The belief is that if the crystal rotates clockwise,
then it's good for your body, and if it rotates counterclockwise, then
it's bad. The quartz swung in large clockwise circles. I took the Cipero.
Cipero is a very powerful antibiotic that got well known after 9-11 as the
cure for Anthrax. It has since become the wonder-drug for travelers
because of it's fast acting healing qualities, usually within 24-hours.

Jamie's 3 Day Solo Adventure on the Mekong:

I left Garryck sitting looking pale and exhausted but I knew he would be
fine after the Cipro so I hopped a boat to a small town on the west side
of the Mekong I was referred to by our Swilss cycling friend Caroline. I
was in heaven! There was a small dirt path that ran along the river
through tiny little river villages with smiling kids, chickens, pigs,
friendly dogs and people all waving and greeting me with smiling
" sussadie" calls. I took a break in the river for a swim and there met a
local English school teacher who was the ony guy I met the whole day who
could speak any English and he agreed to ride with me as the "icing on the
cake" of a perfect day of touring back country Laos.

So now I was not only riding in shady, flat, super scenic, car-free
touring but I had a new friend to explain to me the villages, what they
grew, the types of trees, the temples and local stories. This was what I
dreamed of when we formed Peace Pedalers and living the dream is like no
feeling I've ever experined. I stoped often to take photos of new friends
we met on the road and finally bid farewell as the sun was setting to my
new friend.

Just as I was boarding a small hand made boat piloted by a few 10 year old
kids, I realized I lost my camera! On the most picturesqe day of the
entire tour I was without my new $600 camera! Yikes.

Instead of freeking out like I used to, I simply rode back and looked for
it. After aobut an hour of retracing my steps I accepted the fact ath I
had lost my camera and that I would be okay with it. Yes, I was upset for
a little while, but it faded so fast it even surprised me!

I finally hit my lodging in the next town and after a good night's sleep
was up early to avoid the heat of the Mekong and arrived at a beautiful
temple built in 1100 that was just under a waterfall. It was there I met
a group of other cyclists from Germany who had about 40,000 miles under
their belt and we pedaled on to the next town and all found a cheap hostel
together.

The next day we planned the simple 20KM ride to Pakse to meet Garryck and
I had met a Belgian guest rider who I forget her name and can't find the
journal enty so forgive me. She was eager to ride with us and with my two
new German cyclists we were all optomistic it would be a super nice ride.

Well, adversity does happen. We all looked at our maps and it appeared
that a small trail went along the west side of the river similar to the
one I took on the first day. In this case, we were dead wrong. We ended
up on a very muddy, steep, nasty walking trail that we could barely push
my bike up much less ride. After 5 hours of the most physcially demanding
torture we finally made it to a spot to catch a boat to Pakse in the dead
heat of mid day! Luckily my Belgian friend was a good sport and
appreciated the adventure!

Back to Garryck, who was sick as you recall....

Sure enough I woke feeling tremendously better. I ate my breakfast and the
waiting game began. Would my breakfast stay with me? For the first time in
a matter of days I wasn't dashing to the bathroom soon after eating. It
was a major relief. I decided to hit the road after a couple of hours of
waiting and drinking water. I didn't really want to start riding that late
in the day, but I had to meet Jamie in Pakse in two days and it was 130 km
away. More so, if I waited one more day I would have to take a bus, and
I've grown to detest buses.

I got across the ferry just before ten, and only rode till noon before I
had to pull into a roadside hut to escape the sun. The lady cooked me up
some instant noodles, and I sipped water for two hours waiting for it to
cool down. It didn't. I leapfrogged these huts hourly, stopping for thirty
minutes or so each time to drink extra water and bring my core body
temperature to a nonvolatile level. I finally found a real restaurant
late in the afternoon and ordered a bowl of Vietnamese style noodles. The
lady brought me out a huge bowl of steaming soup. I was so happy when I
saw the enormous bowl, but since I hadn't eaten much in the past four
days, my stomach had shrunk and I was only able to put away half of the
bowl. It was unfortunate too because it was fabulous soup.

At that point I still had fifty km. to go. Spurned on by a magnificent
lightning display of a close electrical storm I made it thirty km. before
a combination of rain and a strong headwind forced me to take shelter in a
large open bus stop. Safe under my mosquito net, I watched the lightning
till I drifted off to sleep.

The next day I rode into Pakse early. I first ran into Travis and then
later in the day, Jamie.
Travis jumped on the back of Jamie's bike and did a three-day tour of the
nearby mountain coffee plantations. I determined that it was time to give
the ol' body a rest and spent those days relaxing in the garden of the
guesthouse reading and playing guitar.

Jamie and Travis' 3-Day adventure to the highlands

Jamie here again! Funny newsletter, I know, but this is just how we live
:)

So Travis is a super funny corn-fed boy from Minnasota, USA we met in
Cambodia and we got along like brothers. His sense of humor is like no
other and it was nice for a change to be able to use good old American
slang and humor and actually be understood.

We carried a very light load so we were able to leave the heat of the
Mikong Valley and enter the highlands of the very fertile coffee growing
area of the Bolivian Plateau in no time. We had heard it was an epic ride
and we heard right!

We made it to the crossroads early enough to relax and enjoy an amazing
cup of Laos coffee, some of the world's best coffee. They brew it like a
black syrup with tons of condensed milk and it's like rocket fuel but
tastes so darn good for 25 cents! Beat that Starbucks!

After a breakfast of banannas and coffee we hit our first of three amazing
waterfalls. The first was totally uncrowded and peaceful in the middle of
the jungle surrounded by lush forest. We then hit a nice tail wind and
put on some Dave Matthews on the double earphone setup I ride with and we
were soon flying along at 27 miles an hour making great time watching life
in Laos go by. And boy what a life the people in this area live! With
the land so fertile. It seemed that every village we went into had so
much growing in every diretion. There were huge papaya trees, pinapples,
spice trees and tons of coffee! The villages were like a postcard with
cute houses of all different colors each with it's own unique style of
simplicty and charm. The people were all so friendly and warm, all
greeting us, laughing and giggling, waving and motioning us to come in and
stop. We did take them up a few times to fuel up on water and munchies,
but were eager to get to the next waterfall that was supposed to be epic.

We arrived in Paradise at the most amazing waterfall we have ever seen.
We went for a swim right away and you could jump right into it and swim in
the cool water in the middle of the jungle with locals all over. We both
noticed a huge rock jump and afer a few natives showed us the ropes, we
were soon doing a 35 foot launcher into the falls' deep cool pool.

Travis and I noticed there was a cottable right on the top of the falls
and we wondered if someone was staying in such an amazing place. We
decided to investigate as landing a pad like that would be a dream come
true. To our surprise, the manager gave us a deal of $20 including
breakfast for our own bungalow with a deck overlooking the falls. You
could almost jump off the deck we were so close! And let me tell you how
awesome it is to sleep next to a roaring waterfall all night long and do
yoga on your private deck at sunset. So nice!

Next day we made our way back up into the heart of the coffee plantations
for more breathtaking scenery and arrived at our 3rd waterfall about
sunset. We stayed at another nice resort for about $20 right near the
viewing spot of the 300 foot waterfall. It was a 3 day waterfall
extravaganza!

After a great night sleep we were both looking forward to the ride because
it was 95% downhill! Imagine cruising for 40 miles and not hitting the
pedals but just watching amazing scenery of Laos go by with all the
colors, sounds, and smells you can only expereince on vessle with no
motor. It was heaven!

We finally made it to Pakse to find Garryck all full of life again and
ready to head up north!

Okay, back to Garryck's newsletter:

After Jamie and Travis got back the three of us took a 12-hour overnight
bus up to Vientine. Travis had "a whole lotta stupid" - the title of a
song written by Jamie and Travis that I put chords to - in him and
immediately got on another ten-hour bus to Luang Prabang. He ended up
having to sit on a plastic stool in the isle of the bus for the entire
journey. A whole lotta stupid for sure. We rode into town from the bus
station and began to look for a place to stay, but we figured it'd be best
if we stayed at the same guest house that our friends JJ and Christine who
were flying out from San Francisco to meet us, had decided to stay at, but
Jamie couldn't remember the name and the Internet cafe's weren't open
yet - he had saved the e-mail that had the name of the guest house. We
decided we'd get some food while we waited, and once again met up with a
fantastic couple, Brad and Katie, that we first met when on Don Khong and
again in Pakse. We found a place serving up Laos coffee with a bakery a
couple of doors down and killed a couple of hours chatting and swapping
stories. We both really hope that we meet up with them again in our future
travels. After we stopped by the Internet café we went to the hotel where
Jamie worked a deal and we ended up only paying three bucks each a night
for a nice room with air-conditioning. Having endured so many sweltering
nights, I was eagerly looking forward to a good night's rest. The rest of
the day was occupied by replying to the over one hundred e-mails in our
in-boxes. We took a break to hit up a two-dollar Indian buffet that was
marvelous. Once again proving that the best Indian food is not in India. I
left Jamie to finish up his e-mails and went back to the hotel where I
found a note from JJ and Christine taped to our door saying that they had
arrived at ten, had stepped out for a look around, and would be back at
eleven-thirty. It was eleven-thirty when I saw the note, and sure enough,
when I stepped out of the bathroom down the hall from our room, there they
were. It was good to see them, and they were bubbling with energy fueled
with excitement due to the sharp contrast of Laos to their world back in
San Francisco. Also in there, I'm sure, was the feeling of relief from
meeting up with us and being able to latch onto something concrete. We
were to them like a life preserver thrown to a man in the middle of an
ocean: drowning would be inevitable, but at least there'd be some security
until that point. They were full of questions about where we had been and
what we had done of the past year, and a great deal of questions about the
security around Laos. Having had come from the U.S. where the media
exaggerates every incident, they had a bona fide fear of traveling the
roads of Laos. We did our best to quell their uneasiness. We had a good
time bowling that night after dinner. Who would have ever thought that
we'd be bowling in Laos.

The next day we got on a bus to Luang Prabang. The plan was to bus there
then ride back to Vietienne with JJ and Kristine after the famous water
festival. Though it wasn't one of the worst buses I've been on this trip,
it wasn't at all a pleasant experience. Ten hours in total with a mere
wispy breeze from the air-conditioner, and only one bathroom and one lunch
stop was hard enough for seasoned travelers like Jamie and I, so I can
only imagine what a living hell it had been for JJ and Kristine. JJ was
frazzled by the time we got off, but it was clear that it was taking all
Christine could muster to keep from a total breakdown. The numerous long
hills in the midst of the smoky burning clear cut forest was not the
scenery she was hoping to do her first extended ride. And the guards who
were posted along the road didn't help matters much either since there
were already warnings by the embassy of the USA about murders on that
highway less than 2 months prior to our planning to ride it. What she saw
were men in regular clothes with AK-47 machine guns casually slung over
their shoulders, which I'm sure kept Christine's pulse and mind racing. I
tried to explain to her that usually it wasn't the guys on the road with
machine guns that you had to worry about; it was the guys that you
couldn't see with machine guns that posed a risk. I think if she had had
her way, she would have taken a tuk-tuk directly to the airport and flown
back to Vientiene, and then back to Bangkok. She did make it quite clear
upon our arrival in Luang Prabang that she was not going to ride that
route under any circumstances, which was understandable based on the
circumstances.

We convinced her to at least hop on the bike and ride the short distance
into town. Travis had been a champ and had reserved a room for us at the
Souksavat Guesthouse where he was staying. It was cheap, but our rooms
were right next to a house full of roosters that rise at 4AM every morning
and you have to be a real hard sleeper to get through them. It was a good
he reserved our rooms as many people had to roam the city looking for
vacancies during the festival. We all took much needed showers and then
ate at a restaurant that Travis had eaten at the previous day. I can only
imagine the conversation between JJ and Christine that night.

We woke early and caught a boat upriver to explore a couple of caves. The
caves weren't much, little more than small grottos full of Buddha statues
of various sizes, but it was a relaxing boat ride, and the air in the
caves was cool and refreshing. Before we got to the caves we stopped at a
" whisky" village, hence labeled for the production of whisky that occurs
in the village. There were also quite a few stalls set up through out the
village selling woven goods. There were even a few ladies working away on
looms. I was totally amazed at the intricacy of their weaving. While we
were strolling around the village I could hardly believe my eyes when I
saw our friend Sarah that we had met in India browsing around in one of
the stalls. I wasn't sure it was her at first, it just seemed to
incredible that she'd be there at that moment. She had a huge smile on her
face when she spun around and saw that it was me who was calling her name.
After a big exchange of hugs she ran over and surprised Jamie, and then
the three of us went to find her husband Jason. We knew that they were
going to be in Luang Prabang, but didn't expect to run into them so soon.
We met up with them later that night for dinner. We got back in the boat
and crossed the river to go eat lunch, but before heading up the steps to
the restaurant we hiked a ways up along the bank of a wide side river that
had a fast flowing current. Christine wasn't into it, but the four of us
enthusiastically jumped right in. Even at a full free-style I could do no
better than to maintain my position in the river swimming against the
current. Once we were all in, we floated on our backs, lifted our legs,
and let the current briskly shuttle us back to the boat. When we got back
to the guesthouse that night there were two notes on the door from our
friend Michal we met in Siem Reap, Cambodia. The last one said that she'd
be back so I just played guitar for a bit, and then lay back on my bed and
waited. The knock came about as soon as I closed my eyes.

We all woke up early the next day. Travis and I arranged a tuk-tuk to go
around and pick up Sarah, Jason, and Michal at their guesthouses, and then
back to get Jamie, JJ, and Christine. A quick stop at the bakery had to be
made before we headed off to the waterfalls. We were the first people to
arrive at the falls. There were stairs most of the way up the falls, but
up near the top it was necessary to walk in a stream of water coming from
the falls above running over the limestone. The abrasiveness of the
limestone made for very sure footing, but, nonetheless, it was too much
for Christine and she froze on a somewhat precarious section that was less
than ten steps from the place where we were going to stop. I did my best
to attempt to console and encourage her, but it soon became clear that
there was only one direction that her mind was willing to take, and that
direction was down. I easily skirted around her and left her to JJ. For
someone like myself who has been running, jumping, climbing and falling in
the woods since the time I could first walk, it can be difficult at times
to understand or comprehend why and where others might feel uncomfortable.
Michal and Sarah sat down on the rocks and began to talk, but us boys
wasted no time in taking off our shirts and taking turns on the rope swing
and jumping off into the deep pool at the base of the upper fall. There
are few things that Jamie and I enjoy more than hurtling our bodies off of
something high above water. Total and absolute clean fun. I then played a
bit of guitar. We all scampered about on the rocks below the falls until
our stomachs told us it was time to go down and get some food. After lunch
we found a nice patch of shaded grass that was perfect for reading and
napping away the rest of the afternoon. It was the peace and serenity that
we had all come to Laos seeking. It was a fine day with fine friends. At
some point Kristine and Sarah took off to do some shopping. It was a good
thing for JJ; he and Jamie went back up to the upper fall allowing JJ some
time to get a few jumps into the pool.

Now Kristine had a very scary moment seeing heaps of guys in normal
clothes running around with machine guns, and was lacking sleep due to the
fact their room was right near a house full of rosters that start their
noise at about 4AM. I can only imagine what happened when their tuk-tuk
driver coned them into a detour of some touristy spot to buy souvenirs
while he went shopping for a "rope of rats". When they returned to the
tuk-tuk after their worthless stop, they were greeted by a half dozen live
rates with their tails tied to a rope! And they had to sit right next to
them! To top it all off, one of the rats died in the journey. If that
was not enough, Kristine decided to walk back to her hotel from the other
part of town and soon was lost in the middle of a strange city so
different from San Francisco that she truly had hit the end of her rope!

It was seven-thritry by the time everyone got showered and regrouped at
our guesthouse. By which time we were all famished. Our hunger was quelled
by all the marvelous eats to be found in the market: grilled chicken
breasts, veggie and chicken skewers, spring rolls, a wide assortment of
fruit, and a wide variety of Laos deserts and western baked goods. The
best thing being that it was quite easy to stuff yourself for two to three
dollars.

It was New Year in Laos, which is highlighted by the water festival, and
on our third day in Luang Prabang it was time to get into the action. Our
special guests from San Francisco JJ and Kristine had had enough of Luang
Prabang due to the many rough experiences and hoped a plane back to
Vientienne just before the festival but luckily were able to catch plenty
of fun in the capital city on scooters.

Jamie emptied all four of his panniers normally used to store our luggage
and filled them with water balloons. He and Travis did a test run earlier
in the day, and worked out a system of being able to take turns reaching
for balloons so not to cause the bike to loose control. In the mid
afternoon heat it was time to go into battle. We rigged up the helmet cam
on my visor and kept the video camera safe in my drybag backpack. Michal
jumped on the back of my bike and we followed them up and down through the
main battle zones. Like we expected, we were prime targets. Likewise, we
were unsuspected attackers. The people that our balloons soaked most often
had no clue as to where they had come from. Michal and I were even able to
get into the action by riding up alongside of them and snatching balloons
from their back panniers. We all laughed continuously throughout the
entire engagement. What a great thing the water festival; it's an excuse
to be kid again, and to be able to soak anyone, young and old, with
absolute impunity.

We again met up with Jason and Sarah around midday and caught a boat
across the river. We had heard that the locals were to be building sand
stupas somewhere over there. We grabbed some quick food on the other side
and then began walking about. We never did find any stupas. There was a
new addition to the merriment to be found on that side of the river. In
addition to the splashing of water, people were carrying around bags of
flour and tossing or smearing handfuls on people. Having previously been
soaked with water the flour stuck to us easily, and it didn't take us long
to look like we were a bunch of bakery school dropouts. Like with the
splashing of the water, we just had to laugh. We found an area with tables
and chairs covered by tents and grabbed a seat with some local kids. We
later found out that their ages ranged between fifteen and seventeen, but
the lot of them looked at least two to three years younger than their
proclaimed age. Soon after we sat down these kids were pouring glasses of
beer and handing them to us. It was a strange feeling to be given a beer
by someone who is half my age, and drastically underage in the U.S. It was
hilarious to watch these kids be kids. Sarah, Jason, and Jamie all had
high-powered squirt guns, and the kids took great pleasure in borrowing
them and randomly dousing other people. They also took turns asking us to
come dance with them. Of course the girls got asked more. At one point I
had to sit between Sarah and one of the young boys. We were planning to
head out the next day, but later that afternoon we heard that there were
still more festivities going on the following day so we decided to stick
around. Part of me was itching to get on the road, but wasn't all to
bummed to hang around another day.

From Luang Prabong Travis was on the back of Jamie's bike and Michal came
on board mine. Being that it was Michal's first day she put out a great
effort and pushed hard through 60 km. of hilly terrain. Unfortunately 60
km didn't take us all the way to Pak Mong and we were both spent. We were
ready to spend the night in the village there, by invitation of one of the
elderly ladies standing about, but decided to get a guaranteed good night
sleep in a bed rather than on the floor of a straw house.. The next day we
rode 30 km. to Nong Khaiw where we were able to catch a boat upriver to
Mong Noi. It was the best day of touring in Laos. There were some ups and
downs, but mostly downs, and hardly a car on the road. The towering
densely vegetated limestone cliffs jutted up abruptly from one side of the
road, and likewise across the river on the other side. It had rained hard
the pervious night and with all that vegetation the air was sweet and
cool. When we were in Nong Khaiw waiting to catch a boat out to Mong Noi
we grabbed a bite to eat. A bit before we left Travis looks down at his
sock and says, "How did I get ketchup on my sock?" He then adds, "wait,
it's not ketchup." He pulled down his sock to reveal a leech that was
fully engorged from Travis' blood. After we burnt if off, Travis further
got further revenge by putting a couple of grains of salt on it. The salt
made it regurgitate the blood, and it left a slimy blood trail as it made
its slow, painful escape across the floorboards. We all got a good laugh
at Travis' expense.

Mong Noi was great. Four days of doing very little. That is except for the
two times I went out mountain biking for the day, once with Jamie and once
with Travis on Jamie's bike, and the one time Michal and I went tubing
down the river while Jamie and Travis spent a day and night further out in
the jungle in a more remote village. It was an easy town to get stuck in.
It's hardly bigger than a village, and only accessible by boat. From most
of the guesthouse balconies it's possible to sit and watch time and the
river float by while listening to the sounds of the insects, birds and
other creatures in the jungle, and the playful splashing and laughter
emanating from the kids playing in the river. A small trail bisected the
mountains of limestone that seem to encase the tiny town, and lead out to
farms and a small village, and beyond. The mountain biking was a blast. It
was very technical in parts, and in some places downright hairy. My
favorite was riding on the dykes separating the race paddies. In some
places they were elevated a foot or two above the rice paddy, and though
there wasn't much of a threat of getting hurt, it added enough tension to
keep our eyes keenly focused on the trail. In a couple of places the dykes
were separated by planks of wood, adding a level to the sphincter
puckering. We carried lighters for the leeches. Travis got one when I was
with him, and I got one when I was out with Jamie. They are cheeky as all
hell and the one I got had made his way down in my sock to below my ankle.

Poor Travis left Mong Noi a day before the rest of us looking as pale as a
ghost. He had been complaining that he hadn't been feeling all too well
for a couple of days. With the scare of the deadly SARS virus floating
around that neck of the woods, chances weren't to be taken and he went
back to Luang Prabong to get checked out at a clinic. It wasn't SARS.
Travis lived.

When we got back to Nong Khaiw we decided that since we had already ridden
there from Pak Mong, there was no sense in doing it again; furthermore, it
was getting late in the day, and we wouldn't likely get in until after
dark if we were to ride it. While I was out in Mong Noi converting my bike
to a single I realized that there was a crack just below the seattube
clamp on the tandem part of the frame. The part was going to have to
accompany Jamie back to the U.S. to be fixed, and I was gonna be riding
single for awhile. Aside from my frame being broken, the two days of
riding to Nong Khaiw was enough for Michal. Jamie and I woke up early to
get a jump on the day. Michal was gonna take a bus so she stayed in bed a
while longer. It was a extremely brutal day of climbing from Pak Mong to
Udomoxai. According to the map it was to be only 64 km. between the two,
and we were expecting it to be like the touring we did with Travis and
Michal: a few short steep climbs, but for the most part nice and rolly.
The terrain started out like what I was expecting, but it wasn't too far
along the road when it started climbing. We had no idea at that time that
we'd be climbing for the greater part of the rest of the day, so I did
like I usually do on climbs and pushed it. Jamie latched onto a truck and
caught up with me, but again, by being in higher gears, I was soon ahead
of him again. Though, it wasn't too long before I submitted to the
mountain and shifted down to my little 20-tooth granny gear. It was
gorgeous touring. Unlike many of the areas in which we had toured through
or been through on the buses, there wasn't as much widespread
slash-and-burn deforestation. The dark dense jungle loomed close, and at
times, completely over the road. Luckily enough we had gotten started by
six, so temperature-wise it was fantastic. We hadn't eaten any breakfast,
and by the time I reached a small village two hours later my gut was
chewing on itself like a dog with a new bone. My choices were either
instant noodles or instant noodles, so I went with instant noodles. There
wasn't a restaurant in the village so the lady who owned the store took me
to her house and cooked them up for me as all the kids of the village
packed into the house to stand and stare at the strange creature that came
rolling in from down the road. Her house was little more than four walls
and a roof, made from planks of wood, bamboo, and thatch. There was only a
dirt floor with a small fire smoldering in the center. All sorts of things
hung from the support beams: fishing nets, dried pieces of meat, and a
wide variety of items that I was unsure of their nature or purpose. With
only natural light creeping in through the cracks it was relatively dark,
and it had the musty smell of a barn. Had it the additional aroma or odor,
depending on one's opinion, of yak butter tea, I would have thought that I
was back in northwestern Sichuan or Tibet. While I waited for my noodles
to be prepared I took some photos and let the kids look at themselves in
the LCD screen of my camera. The kids got a big kick out of that. Along
with the noodles the lady dished out a large plate of rice to go along
with it. I was already digging into both by the time Jamie found his way
to the door. The few kids who had lingered outside had showed him where I
had parked my bike and then led him to me. I suggested that he do the same
as I did and get two packets of noodles. After we were finished eating
some of the kids began pointing at facial features and clothing and
telling us how to say them in Lao. We did the same for them in English. It
is always interesting to see how shy and standoffish children usually are
when we first roll up, and then watch them metamorphose to where they act
like we've been part of their village for some time. Village children are
great. As we rolled out of the village Jamie asked if I thought we were at
the summit. I replied that I didn't, but I thought that it wasn't too far
off. Boy was I terribly mistaken. There was a very brief, fleeting
downhill, but other than that we pushed seemingly forever upward. Bend
after bend I kept thinking that the climb had to relinquish, but the climb
showed us no mercy. We are no strangers to climbing. Hell, we crossed over
the Himalayas; however, it had been months since we had to do any serious,
sustained climbing. Cambodia and southern Laos are nearly pancake flat. It
was an hour and a half or more after our stop for lunch that it looked
like we were home free. Shifting up into high gear we let gravity take
over. It felt so good to be going downhill. The air was still cool and
moist, and it felt luxuriously refreshing as it flowed over my exposed
skin and into my jersey. Coasting along, only tapping the brakes
occasionally before the really tight turns, we wallowed in the beauty of
our surroundings.

We rejoiced too soon, and before long we found ourselves back in our low
gears grinding up yet another seemingly endless climb. Three times I
though that it had to be the final downhill into Udomoxai. Three times I
was dead wrong. I hadn't sufficient quantities of water with me, and for
sure hadn't eaten enough food for the amount of climbing we were doing,
and I was for sure not expecting to be doing so much climbing that day, so
the relentless uphill began filling me with absolute frustration and
disbelief. I can't even begin to count the number of false summits. For
sure more than the number of fingers on my hands, and quite likely toes on
my feet as well. Even on the final downhill I kept expecting to round the
next bend and have to resume climbing. Towards the bottom something caught
my eye in the trees above, and when I looked up to see what it was, the
wind caught the bill of my visor and sent if flying off my head. I jammed
on the brakes and did a quick u-turn as I dropped it into the smallest
chain ring. I guess I was in too high of a back cog cuz the torque sheared
off three of the aluminum chain ring bolts and severely warped the chain
ring. One of the five bolts must have fallen out, and the chain ring
dangled from the one steel bolt that remained. Luckily it didn't hamper my
pedaling and I was able to make it the rest of the way in my middle ring.
Had there been another steep climb, I would have been, excuse the pun,
screwed. From the sign that read, "Welcome to Udomoxai," it was still a
long way to where I found Michal sitting reading her book. To make matters
even worse it started to rain. It was hot, and under different
circumstances the rain would have been refreshing and welcomed, but as it
was, I just wanted to be done with the day and getting wet wasn't helping
matters in the least. After I parked my bike and sat down I started
slugging down a liter of water in which I added a packet of rehydration
salts to. As I sat there with Michal waiting for Jamie I could see the
muscles in my leg pulsating from the monumental exertion. Jamie rolled up
a few minutes later with likely the same mixed look of anguish, fatigue,
and relief that I must have had when I arrived. We climbed well over
6,000 feet with tandems loaded up with gifts, extra "stuff" and all on
legs that have not seen hills in months. We were spent!

After taking the Cipero and up until Udomoxai my guest rider Giardia had
pretty much kept to himself, but something about the major exertion of the
previous day's climb put him in a bad mood. That, and the fact that the
scenery from there to Laung Nam Tha wasn't likely to be all that
stimulating, we caught up again with Michal at the bus station. She had
left us earlier in the day to catch a bus. We found a great guest house
in, Laung Nam Tha, the Khama Nivong Guesthouse. It was newly constructed
of dark stained wood, and had big soft beds and fluffy comforters. We even
got to use the comforters! And because we took the bus instead of riding,
we had the leisure of time to just chill out and pamper ourselves. For
some odd reason the temperature dropped significantly at night there.
Furthermore, it was only costing us a buck each a night. And on top of
that, it was located right next to a place where we could get a massage
for two dollars and sit in an herbal sauna for another buck. It was like
our own resort for 5 bucks a day inclusive! We met a couple of stellar
American chicks, Katie and Katie, who had spent some time in Latin America
and were both dive masters. I had been toying with the idea of getting my
dive master certification as well, and since we were headed to south and
central America, they were a wealth of info. Not to mention that they were
just plain big smiles to hang with. It was clear that neither of us were
all to jazzed about doing the three-days of hills on a muddy road through
not so spectacular scenery in the rain neither and we were not making much
effort to get motivated to leave each day. In a place where we were just
going to spend one night, we stayed four nights. In the end we decided on
taking a truck to the Thai border.

As we pulled out of the truck station an American guy who I had met the
night before jumped in the back. It was significant because he had
actually ran into Nic (Jamie's guest rider in Cambodia) who had told him
about riding with us, and then later had ran into Travis who had as well
told him about riding with us. He was happier than a water buffalo in a
wallow on a hot summer day. He spread himself out on all the bags and
comfortably watched the world go by. Had he been on another truck he would
have paid the same price to be packed in shoulder to shoulder like cattle
with other travelers and locals - never an enjoyable experience. We got to
the border, got our visas stamped, and took our last boat trip on the
Mekong for a while over to the Thailand side.

Overall, Laos was a wonderful, unforgettable experience. I don't
recommend it during the burn season (March-May) as the views that make the
country such eye candy to travel through become cloudy and the air not
crisp and clean. The people are some of the friendliest on earth and
every day is an adventure of new sites and unique experiences that you'll
never forget. If you are new to adventure travel, you may want to warm up
in Thailand or at least mentally prepare yourself for some really adverse
adventures!

More journals on the way soon from Indonesia, Fiji and more!