Central America to Canada, 2004
Thursday, February 8, 2007
Asia 2002-2003
Asia, June 2002 - March 2003
My travels through Asia begin in Singapore on June 2nd, 2002. June 4th I catch a bus to SATS Cargo. The air cargo compound covers several blocks and is surrounded with high steel security fence. The security guard in the entrance booth instructs me to get in line for security check and authorization to enter. I take my position in line behind about a dozen other people and watch intently at everything around me. After about ten minutes I realize that I’m the only woman here. That’s a bit unnerving but there’s nothing I can do about it so I push the thought out of my mind. Eventually it’s my turn and I hand my shipping papers and passport over to the attendant. After passing the ‘twenty question quiz’ I’m instructed to take the bus around to Cargo Shed number 22.
I check in at reception, my paperwork is verified and I’m sent through the doors to wait in the warehouse. Over an hour has passed when I finally see the forklift driver moving a pallet containing a bike secured in shrink wrap. He deposits it in the middle of the warehouse floor and the officer tells me I can cross the line. He verifies the shipment numbers with my paperwork and asks “Is there a truck coming to pick this up”?
“No”, I reply. “I’m going to unpack it and ride it out”.
The poor man looks a bit puzzled so I ask; “can I unwrap it here”?
He takes a few moments to think about this, then motions with his hands to the forklift driver. The pallet is moved slightly off to the side, but still quite central in the big warehouse, where I’m allowed to unpack my freight.
I dig out my little pocket knife and proceed to cut through the layers of shrink wrap. Hellman’s in Australia have done a wonderful job of packaging my bike. Once the shrink wrap is off and my beautiful bike is revealed I take out the little tool kit and start re-assembling my bike. I’ve barely begun laying things out when I notice three young men standing around the bike watching me. Well, maybe they were eyeing the bike and not me. I can’t help but smile as I continue to put the bike back together. No one offers to help, they just watch with interest and big smiles. A few minutes pass before an older gentleman comes over and speaks very quietly to my small audience. The three young men quickly disappear and go back to their work.
It doesn’t take long and I’ve got the bike ready to roll. When I attempt to start it the officer comes over and tells me I can’t start it up in the warehouse. Of course, I should have known that! I ask the officer about the pallet and garbage and he says they will dispose of it. I’m pleased to hear that - in Australia they charged me $40.00 to dispose of the crate. I thank the officer and roll my bike over to the big doors and down the ramp about a meter to the ground. I’m sure every person in the warehouse has stopped working to watch.
I check in at reception, my paperwork is verified and I’m sent through the doors to wait in the warehouse. Over an hour has passed when I finally see the forklift driver moving a pallet containing a bike secured in shrink wrap. He deposits it in the middle of the warehouse floor and the officer tells me I can cross the line. He verifies the shipment numbers with my paperwork and asks “Is there a truck coming to pick this up”?
“No”, I reply. “I’m going to unpack it and ride it out”.
The poor man looks a bit puzzled so I ask; “can I unwrap it here”?
He takes a few moments to think about this, then motions with his hands to the forklift driver. The pallet is moved slightly off to the side, but still quite central in the big warehouse, where I’m allowed to unpack my freight.
I dig out my little pocket knife and proceed to cut through the layers of shrink wrap. Hellman’s in Australia have done a wonderful job of packaging my bike. Once the shrink wrap is off and my beautiful bike is revealed I take out the little tool kit and start re-assembling my bike. I’ve barely begun laying things out when I notice three young men standing around the bike watching me. Well, maybe they were eyeing the bike and not me. I can’t help but smile as I continue to put the bike back together. No one offers to help, they just watch with interest and big smiles. A few minutes pass before an older gentleman comes over and speaks very quietly to my small audience. The three young men quickly disappear and go back to their work.
It doesn’t take long and I’ve got the bike ready to roll. When I attempt to start it the officer comes over and tells me I can’t start it up in the warehouse. Of course, I should have known that! I ask the officer about the pallet and garbage and he says they will dispose of it. I’m pleased to hear that - in Australia they charged me $40.00 to dispose of the crate. I thank the officer and roll my bike over to the big doors and down the ramp about a meter to the ground. I’m sure every person in the warehouse has stopped working to watch.
Hellman’s allowed me to leave about a liter of fuel in the tank so I can start it and ride to a gas station. The bike starts with no problem and I notice that I have an audience standing on the dock. The fellows are standing there with big smiles on their faces and I’m sure they’d love to be riding this bike out of here. I think I’ve gained their respect! I get my riding gear on and give them a wave as I ride to the exit gates. One more security check before I’m allowed to exit. All my paperwork checks out and I’m set free to explore a whole new world.
June 8th I cross the border to Malaysia. The border crossing goes very smoothly thanks to Simon, a Goldwing member I met in Singapore. Simon is in the import/export business and made certain I would have no problems crossing the border.
I ride to Melaka today arriving at about 4:00pm and start looking for the Kancil Guest House. It has been recommended by Servas members in Singapore and motorcyclists from other countries. It’s my lucky day – I meet 3 other bikers staying here. Marten and Jen from The Netherlands and John from Switzerland.
Sunday morning, June 9th, I’m up early sitting in the garden area working on my computer when Fatima, the owner of Kancil Guesthouse, gets up. She opens the back door and calls me to ‘come see’. I grab my camera expecting to see a pretty bird or something, instead I see the saddle bags on my bike open and stuff scattered out on the lawn. Fatima immediately goes to wake John and Martin and Jen while I start taking pictures of my bike and belongings. My new riding boots that I just bought in Australia are gone, my electric pant liners, first aid kit, international electrical plugs and other small stuff I haven’t realized yet, all gone. By this time Martin and Jen have determined that their new Compaq laptop, bought 4 weeks ago, is gone along with numerous other articles. I’m thankful I had taken my laptop into my room and locked it in my removable top trunk.
We’re devastated by the loss but cannot let this ruin our travels. We make a report to the local police, well aware they probably won’t find anything. Fatima is more concerned about her loss of business, if word should get out about the break in, than she is about our losses. On the good side, I’ve made 3 new friends and will travel with them for a few days.
Over the next 3 weeks we tour Malaysia riding up into the mountain resorts, doing some tramping in the jungles, visit tea plantations, temples, cities and have a great time. On June 28th we part ways, my friends going south and me going north. They invited me to go with them to Indonesia but my plan is to go to Thailand – so we say our teary goodbyes and ride away.
Pictures: Tea plantation Jungle Trail
July 4th I cross the border into Thailand. This crossing is not so easy. I’m sent here and there before getting someone who knows how to process my bike entry. Thailand doesn’t recognize the ‘International Carnet’, they use their own ‘White Paper’ to admit vehicles into Thailand temporarily. Once this paper is completed I’m directed to an insurance booth just across the border. This is handy. I purchase my motorcycle insurance for peanuts and am on my way.
Pictures: Southern Thailand James Bond Island
Pictures: Ruins of Ayutthaya
Family Transportation
Family Transportation
My intention was to take a month or two to travel through Thailand but as it turns out I spent 8 months there. The first day I see ads for English teachers wanted and decide to check it out. Yes, you guessed it, I become an English teacher and have some great experiences teaching children and four adult classes for 7 months. Teaching doesn’t take up all my time so I’m still able to tour parts of Thailand and take a short ride to Cambodia and Laos.
July 31st I take a ride to Cambodia. My Thai visa expires and I must leave the country and return to get a new 30 day visa. The first thing I notice when I ride through the gates into the Kingdom of Cambodia is that traffic drives on the right. I make a mental adjustment and find myself on a stretch of road that is solid rock – round, square, sharp, smooth, big and small. Riding on this is treacherous. There is a 30 centimeter path that is cleared of rock and I fight to stay on it. Being much smaller in the pecking order, I must move off and back onto the rocks whenever I see a larger vehicle coming (which is often). After about 10 kilometers of rock I finally reach hard surface road broken often by potholes. It’s heaven compared to what I just left but still takes me 2 hours to ride 50 kilometers. When I stop for the night I make a decision to return to Thailand instead of going on to Siam Reap to see the Angkar Ruins. The rains have made the roads treacherous and I don’t want to chance going further. I still have the same 50 kilometers to ride back to the border.
Time passes quickly in Thailand and this year for Christmas three of my sisters are coming for two weeks. I can hardly wait. Finally December 26th arrives (25th in Canada) and I take a taxi to the airport to meet them. I’m so ecstatic when I see them we hold up traffic in the airport until someone tells us to move on. We spend a very fast 2 weeks traveling to northern Thailand, sightseeing, trekking in the mountains near Chaing Mai, riding elephants, river rafting, shopping and just having a wonderful time together. It’s the best Christmas present anyone could have given me. We bring in the New Year in Chaing Mai watching the fireworks from the balcony of our hotel.
January 27th, 2003 I make a trip to Laos. Once again, one of the reasons is to renew my Thai visa but also to visit this beautiful country. A large percentage of Laos is forested and mountainous creating spectacular scenery and many small mountain villages. Traffic in Laos, like Cambodia, drives on the right. As soon as I cross the friendship bridge over the Mekong River I see a traffic light signaling traffic to switch to the right side of the road.
Going through customs in Laos was painfully slow with me being sent ‘here and there’ until I had met with everyone in the building I’m sure. After a couple of hours I’m finally given a month on my visa stamp but only one week for my bike. Hardly makes sense, but I guess they aren’t required to make sense.
Back in Bangkok early February to finish off my weekend English classes and organize shipment of my bike to Nepal. Everything is arranged for the first week of March. I’ve been in Thailand for 8 months – time to move on.
March 4th, 2003 I arrive in Nepal. I spend a few days seeing the sights of Kathmandu then book a trek to Muktinath in the Annapurna Himals. The trek will take 2 weeks and reach an elevation of 3800 meters. March 14th my guide and I leave Pokhara on day 1 of the Jomson Trek. I feel great! By the third day I feel like a cripple. My guide takes my pack and even without it my knees are killing me. By the 5th day my guide stops at a medical center in a small village in the mountains and I buy mentholated rub and elastic wraps to wrap both knees. Over the next few days my knees feel stronger and I’m proud to say I completed the trek feeling better than when I started.
Pictures: Mountain villages in the Annapurna Himals - Jharkot (below) is at 3500meters
Time passes quickly in Thailand and this year for Christmas three of my sisters are coming for two weeks. I can hardly wait. Finally December 26th arrives (25th in Canada) and I take a taxi to the airport to meet them. I’m so ecstatic when I see them we hold up traffic in the airport until someone tells us to move on. We spend a very fast 2 weeks traveling to northern Thailand, sightseeing, trekking in the mountains near Chaing Mai, riding elephants, river rafting, shopping and just having a wonderful time together. It’s the best Christmas present anyone could have given me. We bring in the New Year in Chaing Mai watching the fireworks from the balcony of our hotel.
January 27th, 2003 I make a trip to Laos. Once again, one of the reasons is to renew my Thai visa but also to visit this beautiful country. A large percentage of Laos is forested and mountainous creating spectacular scenery and many small mountain villages. Traffic in Laos, like Cambodia, drives on the right. As soon as I cross the friendship bridge over the Mekong River I see a traffic light signaling traffic to switch to the right side of the road.
Going through customs in Laos was painfully slow with me being sent ‘here and there’ until I had met with everyone in the building I’m sure. After a couple of hours I’m finally given a month on my visa stamp but only one week for my bike. Hardly makes sense, but I guess they aren’t required to make sense.
Back in Bangkok early February to finish off my weekend English classes and organize shipment of my bike to Nepal. Everything is arranged for the first week of March. I’ve been in Thailand for 8 months – time to move on.
March 4th, 2003 I arrive in Nepal. I spend a few days seeing the sights of Kathmandu then book a trek to Muktinath in the Annapurna Himals. The trek will take 2 weeks and reach an elevation of 3800 meters. March 14th my guide and I leave Pokhara on day 1 of the Jomson Trek. I feel great! By the third day I feel like a cripple. My guide takes my pack and even without it my knees are killing me. By the 5th day my guide stops at a medical center in a small village in the mountains and I buy mentholated rub and elastic wraps to wrap both knees. Over the next few days my knees feel stronger and I’m proud to say I completed the trek feeling better than when I started.
Pictures: Mountain villages in the Annapurna Himals - Jharkot (below) is at 3500meters
Temporary bridge in Chitwan National Park
After returning to Kathmandu I make some inquiries about taking my bike to Lhasa, Tibet. It seems China has some difficult rules and it would cost me a lot of money to take my bike across. I opt for taking an 8 day bus tour through the Himalayan Mountains passing close to the base camp of Mount Everest. The road through the mountains is called the Friendship Highway and hangs on the side of the mountains with a surface of gravel, rock, pot holes and mud holes. The road bends tightly around mountains and crevices sometimes so narrow it would be impossible to pass another vehicles. I’m quite thankful I’m not on my bike. It’s an interesting trip and the highlight is touring the Potala Palace high on a hill overlooking Lhasa. The Potala Palace was home to the Dalai Lama who ruled Tibet – from the 5th to the 14th Dalai Lama. The 14th Dalai Lama fled to India in 1959 when the Chinese invaded Tibet.
April 25th I ride into Bahar, India and spend the next month riding west across the
northern states of India to Delhi. It’s been an exciting adventure crossing India. I take a boat ride down the River Ganges, visit the museum of the Nehru family and Indira Ghandi in Allahabad, visit the temples in Khajuraho (known for their exotic sculptures), visit the Taj Mahal and Agra Fort then spend a few days in Delhi so I can get my visa for Pakistan and Iran. From Delhi I ride north to Dharamsala high up in the mountains to visit the new Monastery of the 14th Dalai Lama in McLeod Ganj (further up the mountain from Dharamsala). What an interesting place to visit. The views over the treetops are spectacular. The streets are filled with people, tourists and locals, going about their business. I could have stayed longer.
April 25th I ride into Bahar, India and spend the next month riding west across the
northern states of India to Delhi. It’s been an exciting adventure crossing India. I take a boat ride down the River Ganges, visit the museum of the Nehru family and Indira Ghandi in Allahabad, visit the temples in Khajuraho (known for their exotic sculptures), visit the Taj Mahal and Agra Fort then spend a few days in Delhi so I can get my visa for Pakistan and Iran. From Delhi I ride north to Dharamsala high up in the mountains to visit the new Monastery of the 14th Dalai Lama in McLeod Ganj (further up the mountain from Dharamsala). What an interesting place to visit. The views over the treetops are spectacular. The streets are filled with people, tourists and locals, going about their business. I could have stayed longer. Pictures: Common scenes in India.
Friday, May 23rd I cross the border into Pakistan. I’m met by the Pakistan Servas President and stay with his family in Lahore. My visa is only for 10 days but I have to extend it because my Iran visa hasn’t come through yet. After some difficulty I get a 10 day extension in Islamabad then continue across the country to DG Khan. From DG Khan I’m given a police escort to Mekhtar where I stay the night at the home of the police chief.
Pictures: Two of my escorts on June 5, 2003
June 6th I continue on to Quetta but become violently ill before reaching Ziarat and can’t continue. I sleep the whole day and night and am still week in the morning. I must continue because I have to reach the border before my visa expires. I make it to Quetta where I pick up my visa at the Iran Embassy then find a room and sleep most of the afternoon.
June 10th I reach the Pakistan/Iran border with one day to spare on my visa. I’m told immediately that I must cover my head so I switch my helmet for a scarf every time I stop. Iran has the most wonderful highways in the world and fuel prices are approximately 10 cents. My bike dies in the Kavir-e-lut desert. I dismantle the seat and discover a loose battery cable. I visit the old city of Bam, Esfahan, Tehran then make my way north to the Caspian Sea.
June 10th I reach the Pakistan/Iran border with one day to spare on my visa. I’m told immediately that I must cover my head so I switch my helmet for a scarf every time I stop. Iran has the most wonderful highways in the world and fuel prices are approximately 10 cents. My bike dies in the Kavir-e-lut desert. I dismantle the seat and discover a loose battery cable. I visit the old city of Bam, Esfahan, Tehran then make my way north to the Caspian Sea.
Pictures taken June 2003: The ancient city of Bam (Arg-e-Bam)
December 26, 2003 The city was destroyed in a devastating earthquake
I spend a couple of nights in Astra, a little town bordering Russia and the Caspian Sea, before heading west and into Turkey on June 24th.
Australia 2001-2002
Australia, 2001 - 2002
Friday, October 27, 2001 – I board my plane for Australia. My flight will be 22 hours plus a 5 hour layover in Hong Kong. Sleep eludes me as the excitement of continuing my journey and seeing my youngest son Curtis, who moved to Australia in 1999, mounts. The flight on Cathay Pacific is wonderful and finally at 11:35am on October 29th the plane lands at the Melbourne airport. An hour through customs and I’m hugging Curtis and his girlfriend Vanessa.
I’ve used Curtis’ work address and number for contact with the shipping company and October 30th he receives a fax saying my bike will arrive in Sydney Harbor on Friday, November 2nd. I will be able to pick it up in Melbourne on November 9th. Great news!
Friday, November 9th, I am about to call a cab to take me out to Secon to pick up my bike when I receive a call from Australian Groupage Service. The voice on the line says, “Your bike hasn’t arrived”.
“What do you mean it hasn’t arrived, there must be some mistake, I was told the container arrived at Secon on Monday and I could pick it up today”!
The AGS informant replied, “The package wasn’t on the truck that brought the goods from Sydney to Melbourne”.
I’m stunned! I can’t believe what I’m hearing! How could this possibly be? I put down the phone and relay the message to Curtis before taking the train home to figure out what to do. November is not turning out to be a great month for me. The weather in Melbourne is cool and wet and my mood is dampened by my missing motorcycle. I’ve learned to take the train into the city and find things to do and places to visit – after spending hours on the telephone each morning trying to get information about my bike.
A week later and there’s still no information about the whereabouts of my bike. I have spent the past week on the telephone to try and get some answers. Neither Australian Groupage Service nor Total Care Trucking Company is able to find the crate. Now, imagine this – a crate 8 feet long, 3 feet high and 2 ½ feet wide. Wouldn’t you think it would be easy to see? Well, somehow or another, nobody at these two companies can spot it. After a week of calling them twice a day, sometimes more, they tell me to put in an insurance claim. Now I’m really feeling sick. I don’t want to be paid for the bike and have to start looking for another one. I just want my Magna back so I can get packed and on the road.
Needless to say, I am very upset about all this. I’m using up my visitor visa time here making phone calls and waiting for people to call me back. Not exactly what I had planned. I am looking into alternate travel plans for the interim - that is until they compensate me for lost goods or find my bike.
After putting in the insurance claim on Friday, I sought some legal advice from a friend. He suggested that I call them again on Monday morning and ask for the names of anyone who handled the crate and if it has been reported to the police as lost or stolen goods.
First thing Monday morning, Nov. 19th, I’m on the phone again to both companies. Neither company could (or would?) give me names of the people who signed for this shipment. AGS gave me a couple of initials and that’s all. I insisted that they must know who these initials belong to, but they weren’t about to tell me. My last request was to ask if they had reported the missing crate to the police as lost or stolen goods. Both companies replied ‘oh no, we don’t do that’. I simply couldn’t believe it! I told them that I would be putting in a report to the police and contacting a lawyer.
One hour later…
GREAT NEWS - They found my bike! My son received a call at work saying they had found the crate. Miraculously it turned up on the dock in Sydney. Now, don’t tell me it wasn’t there all along. I cannot make accusations because I have no proof, but it’s not too hard to read between the lines here.
November 24th I begin my travels around Australia. I head northwest from Melbourne through the province of Victoria into New South Wales and South Australia. From Prot Augusta I take the great Stuart Highway into the center crossing into the Northern Territory. I spend some time in Coober Pedy, where they mine for opals and live in caves, then carry on north to Ayres Rock (Uluru).
Picture: desert view - red earth, very little vegetation.
December 4th I’m up with the birds, pack up my tent and begin my journey to Uluru – Kata Tjuta National Park which is located 450 kilometers southwest of Alice Springs. I stop in Curtain Springs for fuel and breakfast then hit the road again. Today is a short day and I arrive in Yulara (Ayres Rock Resort) before noon. I set up camp before walking to the visitor centre for a map of the area and whatever information they can give me.
I ride out to Uluru (Ayres Rock – the world’s largest monolith and a sacred site to the Aborijinal people) and stop at the site where visitors are allowed to hike the tough1.6km trail to the top of the rock. I get my hiking boots on and toss my riding jacket across the bike, then head to the base of the Rock. I climb up the first bulge, about 100 meters, and start up the next steeper section when suddenly I lose my nerve. I stop for a moment, then try again. ‘This is ridiculous, I’m not afraid of heights!’ I make a couple more attempts but simply can’t force myself to continue. There are other people climbing ahead of me, I should have no problem, but I can’t make myself go further. I retrace my steps to the bottom and go back to my bike not too sure what just happened.
I decide to ride around Uluru and make several stops to hike some trails that lead into the rock. I’m about half way around when the clouds start rolling in. Soon it’s raining and lightning is flashing across the sky. I think about the people who were climbing ahead of me and by now would be at the top. Now I know why I couldn’t continue my climb!
December 5th, 5:00am, I awake to the sound of zippers from the tents around me. People getting up early to see the sun rise over Uluru(Ayres Rock). I poke my head out – it’s still cloudy. It had rained most of the night so I’m not in a big hurry to get up. I drift back to sleep for an hour and by 6:00am am up and start packing. My tent is wet so I shake it out best I can and by 7:00am am ready to go.
My plan is to go north to Alice Springs and Katherine then make my way west around the top end and back south to Perth. Unfortunately this is their rainy season and the rains are heavier this year than most. I’m advised by the local people not to continue north on a motorcycle. Parts of the road wash out this time of year and it’s difficult for a 4 wheel drive vehicle to get through. I heed their warnings and return south on the Stuart Highway to Adelaide. At Adelaide I take the Nullabor Highway west to Perth. The Nullabor is very long, straight and boring but at the end I become the proud owner of a certificate stating ‘I CROSSED THE NULLABOR’. The unfortunate part is ‘I have to cross it again to return to Melbourne’.
I’ve used Curtis’ work address and number for contact with the shipping company and October 30th he receives a fax saying my bike will arrive in Sydney Harbor on Friday, November 2nd. I will be able to pick it up in Melbourne on November 9th. Great news!
Friday, November 9th, I am about to call a cab to take me out to Secon to pick up my bike when I receive a call from Australian Groupage Service. The voice on the line says, “Your bike hasn’t arrived”.
“What do you mean it hasn’t arrived, there must be some mistake, I was told the container arrived at Secon on Monday and I could pick it up today”!
The AGS informant replied, “The package wasn’t on the truck that brought the goods from Sydney to Melbourne”.
I’m stunned! I can’t believe what I’m hearing! How could this possibly be? I put down the phone and relay the message to Curtis before taking the train home to figure out what to do. November is not turning out to be a great month for me. The weather in Melbourne is cool and wet and my mood is dampened by my missing motorcycle. I’ve learned to take the train into the city and find things to do and places to visit – after spending hours on the telephone each morning trying to get information about my bike.
A week later and there’s still no information about the whereabouts of my bike. I have spent the past week on the telephone to try and get some answers. Neither Australian Groupage Service nor Total Care Trucking Company is able to find the crate. Now, imagine this – a crate 8 feet long, 3 feet high and 2 ½ feet wide. Wouldn’t you think it would be easy to see? Well, somehow or another, nobody at these two companies can spot it. After a week of calling them twice a day, sometimes more, they tell me to put in an insurance claim. Now I’m really feeling sick. I don’t want to be paid for the bike and have to start looking for another one. I just want my Magna back so I can get packed and on the road.
Needless to say, I am very upset about all this. I’m using up my visitor visa time here making phone calls and waiting for people to call me back. Not exactly what I had planned. I am looking into alternate travel plans for the interim - that is until they compensate me for lost goods or find my bike.
After putting in the insurance claim on Friday, I sought some legal advice from a friend. He suggested that I call them again on Monday morning and ask for the names of anyone who handled the crate and if it has been reported to the police as lost or stolen goods.
First thing Monday morning, Nov. 19th, I’m on the phone again to both companies. Neither company could (or would?) give me names of the people who signed for this shipment. AGS gave me a couple of initials and that’s all. I insisted that they must know who these initials belong to, but they weren’t about to tell me. My last request was to ask if they had reported the missing crate to the police as lost or stolen goods. Both companies replied ‘oh no, we don’t do that’. I simply couldn’t believe it! I told them that I would be putting in a report to the police and contacting a lawyer.
One hour later…
GREAT NEWS - They found my bike! My son received a call at work saying they had found the crate. Miraculously it turned up on the dock in Sydney. Now, don’t tell me it wasn’t there all along. I cannot make accusations because I have no proof, but it’s not too hard to read between the lines here.
November 24th I begin my travels around Australia. I head northwest from Melbourne through the province of Victoria into New South Wales and South Australia. From Prot Augusta I take the great Stuart Highway into the center crossing into the Northern Territory. I spend some time in Coober Pedy, where they mine for opals and live in caves, then carry on north to Ayres Rock (Uluru).
Picture: desert view - red earth, very little vegetation.December 4th I’m up with the birds, pack up my tent and begin my journey to Uluru – Kata Tjuta National Park which is located 450 kilometers southwest of Alice Springs. I stop in Curtain Springs for fuel and breakfast then hit the road again. Today is a short day and I arrive in Yulara (Ayres Rock Resort) before noon. I set up camp before walking to the visitor centre for a map of the area and whatever information they can give me.
I ride out to Uluru (Ayres Rock – the world’s largest monolith and a sacred site to the Aborijinal people) and stop at the site where visitors are allowed to hike the tough1.6km trail to the top of the rock. I get my hiking boots on and toss my riding jacket across the bike, then head to the base of the Rock. I climb up the first bulge, about 100 meters, and start up the next steeper section when suddenly I lose my nerve. I stop for a moment, then try again. ‘This is ridiculous, I’m not afraid of heights!’ I make a couple more attempts but simply can’t force myself to continue. There are other people climbing ahead of me, I should have no problem, but I can’t make myself go further. I retrace my steps to the bottom and go back to my bike not too sure what just happened.
I decide to ride around Uluru and make several stops to hike some trails that lead into the rock. I’m about half way around when the clouds start rolling in. Soon it’s raining and lightning is flashing across the sky. I think about the people who were climbing ahead of me and by now would be at the top. Now I know why I couldn’t continue my climb!
December 5th, 5:00am, I awake to the sound of zippers from the tents around me. People getting up early to see the sun rise over Uluru(Ayres Rock). I poke my head out – it’s still cloudy. It had rained most of the night so I’m not in a big hurry to get up. I drift back to sleep for an hour and by 6:00am am up and start packing. My tent is wet so I shake it out best I can and by 7:00am am ready to go.
My plan is to go north to Alice Springs and Katherine then make my way west around the top end and back south to Perth. Unfortunately this is their rainy season and the rains are heavier this year than most. I’m advised by the local people not to continue north on a motorcycle. Parts of the road wash out this time of year and it’s difficult for a 4 wheel drive vehicle to get through. I heed their warnings and return south on the Stuart Highway to Adelaide. At Adelaide I take the Nullabor Highway west to Perth. The Nullabor is very long, straight and boring but at the end I become the proud owner of a certificate stating ‘I CROSSED THE NULLABOR’. The unfortunate part is ‘I have to cross it again to return to Melbourne’.
Pictures below: Wave Rock - Western Australia - Pinicales at Cervantes north of Perth
December 31st, 2001 I’m back in Victoria to spend New Years Eve and Day with Curtis, Vanessa and her family.
January 22nd, 2002 I fly to New Zealand and spend 7 weeks touring both islands. I decide not to take my bike, maybe because of the hassle I had bringing it into Australia, and am sorry the moment I begin my travels. New Zealand is a spectacular country with curvy, hilly roads just made for bikers. I’d love to come back here and spend about 6 months traveling.
Back in Australia mid March I take a ferry across the Bass Strait to Tasmania and do a ten day ride with a group of magna riders from Melbourne. Tasmania is a beautiful island to tour by motorcycle and I have a great time riding with my new found friends.
Pictures: Spirit of Tasmania Cradle Mountain, Tasmania
Pictures: Reflections at Cradle Mountain Worn back tire
Back on the mainland I begin my journey up the east coast on April 7th. There is so much to see and do along this coast I could spend a couple of years traveling here. I go as far north as Cairns then back south to Chambers Towers where I take the Flinders Highway and Barkly Highway west to join up with the Stuart Highway going north to Darwin.
Pictures: Termite mounds Aboriginals with Iguana - Northern Territory
Some of the highlights along the top end were ‘Devils Marbles Park’, Kakadu National Park, Nitamiluk National Park and all the wonderful people I met along the way.
Pictures: Devils Marbles Northern Territory Alligator River
In New Zealand I joined an organization called ‘Servas for Peace’. It’s an International organization of travelers who host other travelers. I was fortunate enough become a member of Servas and met and stayed with many local families along the way. My other accommodations included tenting, youth hostels, backpackers hostels and budget hotels/motels/guesthouses.
Backpacking in New Zealand Sea lion on a beach in New Zealand
What a great way to travel!
June 2nd, 2002 I fly to Singapore. My bike will be strapped to a pallet and flown air cargo to Singapore.
June 2nd, 2002 I fly to Singapore. My bike will be strapped to a pallet and flown air cargo to Singapore.
Saturday, January 27, 2007
North America-2001
UNTAMED SPIRIT
August - 2001 The Beginning
When I made the decision to travel around the world on my motorcycle, I had no idea what was ahead of me. I began picking up books on some of the places I plan to go and reading everything I could get my hands on. My friends gave me books and articles that added to the information highway. Reading as much as I could was the easy and exciting part of my preparations.
Here's just a summary of what I had to accomplish before I left. In about March I started my immunization shots. I believe there were a total of about eight, with one more to get in six months (when I'm in Australia). I wasn't expecting to go through so much pain! I had to start making decisions about my personal assets and how I would handle that - not only how but who I could ask to handle personal and financial issues. Then there was the passport, international drivers license, a thing called a ‘carnet de passage’ (something like a passport for the bike), when and where to apply for travel visas, what countries require them, etc. etc... During all this I had to decide what kind of bike to take on this great adventure. Some of my more seasoned traveling friends advised against taking the Goldwing. This was hard to swallow but eventually I had to agree. I needed a smaller, more manageable bike if I should run into difficulty somewhere out there alone. What about my route? Well, I kept a laminated map of the world on my kitchen table with a washable marker and drew and redrew my route a hundred times or more.
In about May I decided on a general route and when I wanted to leave. August 4th was the target date - now the pressure was really on. The end of June I went to California to attend the WITW (Women in the Wind) convention. I decided to attend this event to promote my trip and get the moral support of my sister chapter members in the United States. I was overwhelmed by the interest and encouragement I received. I was fortunate enough to meet Marjorie, an honorary member of WITW, who was a pioneer for women in motorcycling. Against her fathers wishes she ventured across the United States by motorcycle in 1938. She is a great inspiration to me and other women riders.
The last month of packing and planning was very hectic but here it is August 4th, 2001 and I'm on schedule. It's 8:30am and I'm leaving Edmonton to spend the weekend in Canmore with my daughter and her family and enjoy the Folk Music Festival.
The last month of packing and planning was very hectic but here it is August 4th, 2001 and I'm on schedule. It's 8:30am and I'm leaving Edmonton to spend the weekend in Canmore with my daughter and her family and enjoy the Folk Music Festival.
August 9th I leave Canmore taking the Bow Valley Parkway to Jasper – a stunningly scenic ride and one of my favorites. Over the next four days I take highway 40 to Grande Cache and Grande Prairie, Alberta then highway 2 to Dawson Creek, B.C. and the start of the Alaska (Alcan) Highway.
I follow the Alaska Highway to Ft. St. John and Ft Nelson, B.C., then Watson Lake, Yukon where I visit the sign forest and plant my sign, amongst thousands of others before me, signifying my presence in this neat little town. Then on to Whitehorse, Yukon where I stop to take care of bike maintenance and meet up with two Goldwing riders who join me on my ride to Dawson City via the North Klondike Highway.
August 2001 - ALASKA
Saturday, August 18th, 2001 - I leave Dawson City after a nice breakfast with my new friends from Whitehorse. As I ride down the river bank to the ferry I'm just in time to board the raft before they pull the chain across. I’m boarded with six vehicles and one bicycle. In less than fifteen minutes we dock on the other bank and I ride off to the top of the worl
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Picture (right): Dawson City, Yukon nestled along the banks of the Yukon River.
On the far bank is the ‘Top of the World’ highway leading to Alaska.
I experience a rush of excitement mixed with apprehension as I head off across the mountains on my own. The road switches back and forth as I climb high up the mountains. The road surface is good, paved in most places and hard packed gravel in several short stretches. After a few miles of climbing I look out across the coulee and realize I am at eye level with the mountains peaks on the other side. The view is spectacular! I can see for miles - mountains, coulees, stretches of the highway as it winds back and forth ahead of me - what a feeling! The only cut lines I see are those of the road twisting on ahead across the tops of the mountains. I can easily imagine how spectacular this must be in a couple of weeks when the leaves start to turn color. Soon I reach the highest point on the Canadian side, round the top of a mountain and begin a short decline to the border - Poker Creek crossing. A few kilometers further… 
Up until now I've been fortunate to see the sun poke its face through the clouds from time to time. Now it looks like I'm headed for rain. I travel about 30kms before the road shows signs of a recent rain. Still not bad to ride on and I continue optimistically. My optimism doesn't last long as quickly I'm into very wet roads. I feel my rear wheel slip - just a reminder to keep a steady pace. After fifty kilometers this is no longer fun! My bike fishtails as I cross a muddy track to make room for an oncoming truck and camper. My biggest fear is to drop my bike out here and be attacked by a bear. I’m happy to reach Chicken just to get off the road for awhile. I stop for gas and lunch and order chicken soup. I figured that was appropriate for being in Chicken, Alaska. It's stopped raining for a bit and I'm told there is only 22 miles left before the new chip seal surface. I head out again and battle the remaining stretch of mud. The clouds look like they’re breaking up and I am ever so thankful when I reach the hard surface road.
August 21st - I reach Anchorage and stay with more Goldwing members. They are great people and help me make some contacts for my flight to Japan then on to Australia. As it turns out, the cost to fly from Japan to Australia is twice as much as it is from Vancouver to Australia, so I decide to omit Japan for now. I will travel to Haines, Alaska, take the ferry to Prince Rupert and ride to Vancouver. From Vancouver I will make arrangements to fly or ship my bike and myself to Australia.
With this decision made I have the pleasure of riding through more of Alaska to Haines. The weather is cloudy and I ride in rain off and on for the next two days. It’s a very pretty route along the Glenn Highway and I have a few bright periods throughout the ride. I see another bear. This time it runs across the road and into the ditch to the right of me. At Tok I head south east on the Alaska Highway towards Haines. Gorgeous countryside but the air gets colder as I reach higher elevations. I see snow falling over the mountains to my left and am thankful for my Gerbings heated clothing. It’s 5:00pm on August 25th when I reach Haines, Alaska. It’s been a long 2 day ride so I do a short walk around town, get food for the ferry ride and crash, waking periodically to hear the rain still falling.
August 26th at 7:00AM I arrive at the ferry for a two day ride to Prince Rupert. The day is clear enough to see the mountains around me, but by evening the clouds have socked in and it is raining. It rains most of the night and I'm thankful I'm on board and not riding. I stay on the Solarium deck on a lounge chair with my sleeping bag, along with the other passengers who don't wish to pay for a stateroom. The loungers are in a passageway which is open to the outside viewing deck. As the rain comes down it runs through the area where we sleep so we must make sure our things are off the floor and put in the lockers behind us. My sleep is broken by the feel of the boat rocking. It's still raining in the middle of the night and I'm surprised at how warm it is out here.
Read more about my exciting adventure in my future newsletters and my upcoming book to be announced later this year. Enjoy my site, Doris
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