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Category: Travel

Tweeking my Interest-part 1

View from our house with clouds over Bozeman & the Gallatin Valley

The snow storm has extinguished the familiar lights of Bozeman and the Gallatin valley that are spread out beneath our house.  The kitchen is warm and bright, a beef stew simmering on the stove fills the house with a comforting aroma and our guest are on their way.  Fall weather is a fact of life, not an excuse.  The wind is noisy as it buffets the windows and doors, the house is warm inside.  I make the final preparations for dinner while Lori continues to straighten thing up around the house. 

HJ and Tammy settle in with a glass of wine before dinner as we begin to describe the trip we had just completed.  They are good friends, I can tell them half baked ideas and I will get an honest answer.  We look at photos and visit about the pleasures and trials of the trip.  We casually entertain the idea of going to Europe and renting a boat for a trip, knowing that purchasing one was impractical.  They are game for the conversation and have ideas of their own.

Over the next few weeks we continue to visit with friends about our adventure, most were surprised and somewhat intrigued by our experiences.  This along with trying to adjust to our real life again kept me considering options that would enable the continuation of the experiences that we had.

One morning while enjoying my morning ritual, surfing the news while drinking my first cups of coffee, I did a search for boats for sale in France.  One of the first websites I came across was the site that I had used to research rental boat options, Holidays H2O.  The company has a couple of harbors in France from which they broker boats and display them on their website.

As I was wasting time pursuing through their site I found some good looking boats that weren’t as expensive as I had expected them to be.  I looked at the details of the boats and kept thinking that something must be wrong with these, since I have always assumed that boats were expensive.  

Over the next few weeks I continued to day dream in the mornings with an expanded search though different boat brokers, and I continued to find reasonably priced boats.  They weren’t new by any means, most of those I found that were affordable were of the 1970s to 1990s vintage, but they looked good.  Even so, I thought what good is it to have a boat in Europe while I have to work in the U.S.

***

This is the first installment of the second chapter in the ongoing series that details our introduction to river cruising on the European waterways and to our purchase and outfitting of our own boat to for travel and living in Europe. If you are interested in being notified of future installment releases, Subscribe to this series in the sidebar on the right.

If you missed the Previous installments they can be found under the category “A New Adventure-Series”

The Start of a Journey-part 7

Biking along the canal on the tow path

Part of the pleasure of the boat travel is that it is by nature slow, about 8 KPH on inland waterways.  Traveling at that pace we could actually see and experience the country side.  If desired, some of our party could ride bicycles down the old tow paths and meet with the boat at the next town, or could read while underway while others could draw or take photos.  We were together but able to pursue our own interests.

As we went down the canal I saw many other boats, some rental boats like ours, old barges converted to live aboards and steel dutch cruisers.  My first thought regarding the private boats was the number of rich people who could choose this lifestyle, then I started visiting with them.  It turned out that many of these boaters were British and retired, a common answer to the question as to how they came to be doing this was that it was cheaper than living in Britain, furthermore the weather was better.   When a change was desired you could just move on down the river or canal.

Removing plane trees

On a sad note, the Canal du Midi is rapidly changing in some places due to a fungus that is killing the plane trees that line and shelter the canal.  To combat this the French government is proactively removing infected trees and are planting new ones of different species to increase the diversity and reduce the chances of this happening again.  There is one bright side to the loss of the trees, and that is a better view of the countryside.

The popularity of the Canal du Midi has also become an issue, especially between mid-June and mid-September.  Only about 4 boats at a time can fit into a lock, so during periods of high use the ability to get to your destination can be limited by the congestion at the locks.  We were on the canal in October and being off season we never had to experience congestion at the locks.  

I learned a lot on our first boating experience on the Canal du Midi.  It introduced me to an option of exploring a Country that provided an intimate immersion into the culture at a pace that allowed me a more complete experience of the sights, not just the advertised highlights. 

Our destination harbor at Homps

One of the most exciting things we were introduced to was a way to affordable spend time in another part of the world beyond that of being a short term tourist.  Part of the expense of travel is getting there, but the bigger part is room and board.  A moving apartment is quite a ticket, the cost of your room is fixed and your board is significantly reduced by being able to cook for yourself rather than eat out all of the time.  Add a couple of bicycles to the boat and access to public transit and your transportation is accounted for too.

***

This is the end of the seventh installment in the ongoing series that details our introduction to river cruising on the European waterways and to our purchase and outfitting of our own boat to for travel and living in Europe. If you are interested in being notified of future installment releases, Subscribe to this series in the sidebar on the right.

If you missed the Previous installments they can be found under the category “A New Adventure-Series”

The Start of a Journey-part 6

Boats along the canal in Argens-Minervois
Tow path in Argens-Minervois

One evening we tied up on the bank of the canal in the village of Argens-Minervois.  On the tow path beside the boat some old men were playing an intense game of Pétanque, a few other villagers were around watching the sport. 

Bringing in the harvest

Across the canal was the local wine cooperative.   A couple of tractors with trailers full of grapes drove up to the winery to unload.  About a half a dozen young folks in their late teens or early twenties were crammed into a little car following the tractor.   When they got out they were stained purple, their arms, shirts, trousers along with some streaks on their faces.  Most wandered off after milling about socializing, while a couple helped shovel the grapes onto the elevator.   We watched this process in awe, parts of it were like stepping back in time.  

When their work was completed we made our way to the winery, the lady who had driven the tractor was still on site and putting things in order.  I asked if they had wine for sale.  “But of course”, she spoke English well.   We followed her into the wine cave, it was almost as one would expect, dark, damp, but instead of the wine being laid up in bottles in racks, there were cases upon cases scattered around and wine barrels lined the walls with taps sticking out of them.  After moving things around so that we could see the wine they had to offer, I had a chance to ask some questions.  The first on my mind was who uses the casks along the wall.  “Some of the people who contribute grapes just come here to refill when they are ready for wine that is reserved for them.”  

We didn’t fit into that category, so we just looked at the bottles they had available for sale.  The bottles weren’t dusty they were protected in cardboard cases, most were the usual GSM blends so common in the Laugnedoc region, but they also had a cabernet that had been aged for a couple of years.  We chose a couple of wines including the cabernet and returned to the boat to enjoy them with dinner.

The dinner that night turned out to be perfect.  It was to be our last night on the canal, we had to turn in the boat the next day.  It was a simple dinner, we made a red sauce from some tomatoes we had picked up from the local market along with vegetables, mushrooms and meat that would need to be eaten before the end of the trip.  This along with the last of our pasta, bread and wine made an excellent meal.

I think cooking and eating meals are part of what connects us.  While I enjoy eating out and being introduced to new cuisines of other cultures, it’s not the same kind of companionship as can be found at your own table.  So we do both, eating out to get introduced to the local specialties, and eating in for good company.  

Part of the joy of cooking while traveling in Europe was the opportunity and challenge cooking of with the fresh foods that are available at the market.  In the Markets I found foods that are in season and of the highest quality. Because of there seasonal nature of the markets, we had to cook with what was available at the time, but the reward was freshness.

A last comment about the galley on our rental boat, its small which is to be expected, but it was equipped well and had every thing necessary to cook with.  When my parents had their 50th wedding anniversary we rented a house on the beach on the outer banks of North Carolina.  It was a VRBO advertised as having a gourmet kitchen.  While it did have a Wolfe Range, a Sub-Zero fridge and a crab steamer, it didn’t actually have all of the tools needed for cooking.   It’s obvious that the French understand and have an appreciation of cooking good food.

*****

This is the end of the sixth installment in the ongoing series that details our introduction to river cruising on the European waterways and to our purchase and outfitting of our own boat to for travel and living in Europe. If you are interested in being notified of future installment releases, Subscribe to this series in the sidebar on the right.

If you missed the Previous installments they can be found under the category “A New Adventure-Series”

The Start of a Journey-part 5

Lock on the Canal du Midi
Mom working the lines in a lock

When we started down the canal the next day we had to become familiar with going through the locks and maneuvering the boat, we all ended up with a job that quickly became familiar.  Entering a lock everybody had a task, I usually drove the boat, Mom, Dad and Lori took turns working the mooring lines on the bow and stern, while the free crew member orchestrated and took photos when able.  The first trips into locks were less than stellar until everybody got the hang of it, not to mention me actually learning to make the boat do what we wanted it to when it was necessary.  Fortunately we weren’t the first to have problems with the maneuvers.  All of the locks on the Canal du Midi have lock keepers to operate the locks and they are used to tourists who don’t know how to operate their boats.  When we did something wrong as we entered a lock you would hear a litany of rapid French interspersed with a few English words giving directions.

Waiting for a lock

On the Canal du Midi each of the locks have a lock keepers house next to it to house the lock keepers.  They are simple 2 story houses, all similar except for the unique character each lock keeper brings to them.  Some adorned with flower boxes, some sold wine and jams or baked goods on the side.  One in particular was inhabited by an artist and the grounds around the locks were covered with sculptures.

Lock Keeper selling goods

Many aspects of the canal travel were as expected.  We meandered through the countryside littered with farms and vineyards, passed by occasional chateaus and regularly went through small villages and towns that lined the canal.  Even the smallest of these villages had some sort of provisions even if it was just a small store with only the most basic of supplies.  Many villages had a bakery and a restaurant, some had a butcher and a wine cave that produced the local cooperative’s wine.  Almost all had old churches at their center and many were built around a now decomposing chateau.  

Parked in Trèbes for lunch

Stopping to visit a town or for a rest simply involved pulling the boat to the side of the canal.  Most villages have developed moorings to make it easy to stop, but if they didn’t or we were outside of a village we simply staked the boat to the shore.  Once secured we could cook, eat and explore, or just enjoy the day in the sun. 

We had everything we needed on the boat, including the basic supplies we had picked up.  Our clothes were stowed in drawers, our galley was equipped well enough that we could cook when and as we liked.  Our time was optimized to do what we liked, instead of spending hours each day packing and moving to the next set of sights.  The only obligation we had was to arrive at our  final destination by the end of the trip.

Market day in Bram

Options to resupply as we traveled were common, but one of the most interesting were the farmers markets.  The markets move from village to village on a schedule throughout the week.  The canal guide we used noted the market days for the villages so we could plan our visits to take advantage of them.  The markets start setting up about 7:00 in the morning and are usually closing around noon.  On market day a normally quiet village comes alive with activity.  Booths take over a street or village square to supply a seasonal array of fruits, vegetables, meats, fish, cheese and bread along with street food vendors and some dry goods merchants.  

The one large city we passed through was Carcassonne, a city that grew outside of the associated fortified city Cité de Carcassonne.  The city has a port facility with electric and water that we hooked up to and stayed for a couple of days at a cost of 12 Euros per day.  It is the largest city in the area and has a thriving city center, with characteristic narrow winding streets and shops.

Cité de Carcassonne

The Cité de Carcassonne, now a World Heritage site, was started by the Romans in about 100 AD.  Between the founding of the Cité and about 1650 the fortifications were expanded to the current configuration.  It fell into disuse after the Treaty of the Pyrenees in 1659 and in 1849 the French government moved to have it demolished, but due to local pressure it was preserved as a historical monument.  While some of the restoration isn’t historically accurate, it is the only fully intact fortified city left.  It is still inhabited and functions as an entity of its own with shops, a school and a Cathedral. 

Travel down the canal helped establish a routine that was relaxing and rooted in the familiar.  Up in the morning for coffee then a quick walk or bike ride to the local bakery for bread for the day, followed by breakfast. If it was market day in a village nearby a visit was in order for fresh food supplies, not to mention the atmosphere.  When we had seen all we wanted,  we got underway.  While underway we also had a routine, chores to be completed, washing dishes, taking showers, drawing, reading and planning for a future stop. 

Lori writing

Our pace of life changed.  The French don’t work over lunch.  Locks closed at noon, well actually before noon.  It takes about 15 minutes for a lock to cycle, if that was going to impinge on lunch time the lock closed.  Stores and shops in the smaller villages closed for lunch too, with the exception of cafes.  When we were in a village we could eat in a restaurant or we could park on the side of the canal eat a leisurely lunch, like the French, and relax while the locks were closed. 

*****

This is the end of the Fifth installment in the ongoing series that details our introduction to river cruising on the European waterways and to our purchase and outfitting of our own boat to for travel and living in Europe. If you are interested in being notified of future installment releases, Subscribe to this series in the sidebar on the right.

If you missed the Previous installments they can be found under the category “A New Adventure-Series”

The Start of a Journey-part 4

Castelnaudary

As we left Paris on a train to go to our rented boat I noticed the city changes from old to more modern with suburban, industrial and run down areas.  This was not unexpected, what was unexpected was how suddenly it ended.  A line was crossed and the sprawl vanished into county side.  Again I noticed the numerous small farms reminiscent of a pastoral society of times gone by, but without a farmhouse dedicated to each.  The villages were made up of exclusively old structures that were tightly spaced together with little evidence on new construction, although some of the larger towns did exhibit some signs of expansion and new or newer construction. 

We arrived at the Castelnaudry train station, a quiet building with no traffic except the departing passengers all of which were going to have to walk the 5 blocks of rough residential streets to the marina to pick up our hire boats.  It was near lunch time, actually 1:30 pm, but the staff was still occupied with their lunch.  By 2pm the staff had returned, but it took till 3 pm to get our boat.  Lots of papers to sign, including one that indicated they were going to teach me to drive the boat and for the duration of the trip this piece of paper would serve as my Captains license.  

Their idea of teaching me to drive the boat was a little bit of an overstatement.  The staff person showed us around the boat, then in broken English ask if I needed instructions on driving the boat.  I told him I was unfamiliar with this kind of a boat and would need instructions. He in turn handed me the key and indicated where to insert it, then pressed the starter button and pointed to the power controller on the boat and said “this makes it go forward” indicated by pushing it forward and “this makes it go in reverse” he indicated by pulling it back. “If you need to stop quickly pull it all the way back”, then he pointed to the steering wheel and said “you turn it with this.”  With that we were ready to go.

We still had chores to do before we could settle into life on the boat for a week. For one thing we would need to provision the boat and considering the time of day we wouldn’t be leaving that evening since the locks close at 5 pm.  

Castelnaudary is a small old town with the canal du midi running through it and a rental boat base located in a large bay across from the town center.  The walk to the store was a little more than a kilometer since you had to walk around the bay to get into the town.  As we walked we passed restaurants, bakeries, butcher, post office and wine caves all in the towns center, enough to meet all of our needs.  We purchased the basic provisions we would need to start our journey from the various businesses and returned with them to the boat stopping by the wine cave to finish the task.  

Castelnaudary, across the bay from the Port

Since the locks were closed by the time we had finished outfitting the boat for our journey we opted to eat out in town.  Castelnaudary is known for the speciality dish cassoulet, said to be developed there to support the village during a long siege of the town castle in the 100 years war.  Cassoulet is a white bean stew and due to the town legend there were numerous offerings of it at restaurants.  We chose one of the restaurants that specialized in the dish to celebrate getting our adventure underway and Lori and my anniversary.

*****

This is the end of the Fourth installment in the ongoing series that details our introduction to river cruising on the European waterways and to our purchase and outfitting of our own boat to for travel and living in Europe. If you are interested in being notified of future installment releases, Subscribe to this series in the sidebar on the right.

If you missed the Previous installments they can be found under the category “A New Adventure-Series”


The Start of a Journey-part 3

The Seine just North of Notre Dame. The locks on the bridge represent commitments made.

As we are flying into Paris I notice the Picardy countryside passing under the plane.  A mosaic of small fields in differing shades of green, regularly punctuated by small clusters of habitations I take for villages.  Then every so often a larger town or small city with a old town center.  For the most part my initial impression is of  a pastoral society, which hasn’t changed in a long time.  I had known and indeed expected to see some old villages, but I expected them to be like in the U.S. with more sprawl, along with more houses scattered across  the countryside.   Here there appears to be only an occasional house or chateau on the land. Furthermore I didn’t expect to see so many villages, only a few kilometers apart if that.  I live in Montana where it isn’t unusual for there to be 20 to 30 miles between towns. 

This is not what I expected.  I don’t really know what I expected, I hadn’t really thought about France before.  In fact I had never really had any desire to go there.  I’m not sure why that was, I had thought about Ireland, Britain, Scotland, Spain, Italy and Germany, but never France.  Perhaps it was a sub-conscious prejudice, from where I don’t know and certainly unwarranted.

I had always thought of Europe as more industrialized than the U.S., so while the country side made sense it was a change in my expectations.  I remember growing up in rural southwest Missouri, I had the idea that New York State must just be a suburb of New York City, at that time the largest city in the world.  When I traveled there in my teens I was surprised to find that upstate New York was predominately rural.  Once I saw it, I had to wonder  how I could have had such a misrepresented view.

After arrival at Charles de Gaul airport we took the train into Paris arriving at Les Halles, a train stop in Paris.  We were a little early to meet the caretaker of the apartment, so we parked ourselves at a sidewalk cafe to pass a little time.  We were at the end of Rue Montmartre, an area closed to traffic to allow an open air market.  Even exhausted from the flight and jet lagged, I found the city exhilarating and laid back at the same time.

I didn’t expect much from my visit to Paris, just staying long enough to see some museums and monuments and move on.  I’m not a big fan of cities.  I like New York and San Francisco but don’t have much desire to spend a lot of time there. 

Paris was a surprise.  We had an apartment in the 2nd arrondissement on Rue Montmartre one of two remaining market streets left.  It was alive as a community, like it could have existed without the rest of the city.  Over the course of the next few days as I ventured though the streets and alleys of the city I found numerous other neighborhoods to each have a feel of their own.  

We, of course, started out with a laundry list of sights to see, but after a day settled into slowing down and pretending to be Parisians.  Each day making the rounds to shop for the days meals, but taking time to stop at a brasserie for a cup of coffee in the morning or lull away an hour for lunch watching the world go by at a cafe with a pitcher of wine, referred to by the Parisians much more eloquently as a Pichet. 

I had hoped to practice my French in the city a little prior to arrival in the countryside where they speak less English. I did’t get much practice, I would start speaking to a shop keeper in French and I presume after hearing me butcher their language they would usually reply in English. Oh well, the stop in Paris was a still a good primer on France prior to departing to the boat.

*****

This is the end of the Third installment in the ongoing series that details our introduction to river cruising on the European waterways and to our purchase and outfitting of our own boat to for travel and living in Europe. If you are interested in being notified of future installment releases, Subscribe to this series in the sidebar on the right.

If you missed the first installment it can be found under the category “A New Adventure-Series”

The Start of a Journey-part 2

Start of a Journey
Canal du Midi, France

Lori and I were on our second passports with less than 5 years remaining and they were still unused, the first had expired without a stamp.  We had envisioned visiting Europe with my parents for years.  We had guide books to Italy and Scotland that were no longer current enough to be useful.  We dreamed of leisurely walking tours in the Scottish highlands or bicycling through Tuscany.  We could imagine going from Inn to Inn, milling around villages in the country side.  We anticipated spending quality time enjoying good company without the imposition of projects we have joined to participate in in the past. 

We have fond memories of time spent with my parents.  They have come to spend weeks with us helping to build our house or finish a project.  We have made visits to their house to work on projects that needed to be done.  These projects were always gratifying, some of my favorite memories.  The work was good, we got a lot accomplished and we had good company, still I would like once to spend time exploring with them at leisure, not working on a schedule.

My parents are getting older and are not as able to travel as they were.  We realize that there are things that are important to us that we are missing.  If we keep waiting till tomorrow, tomorrow will never come and those opportunities will be gone for good.  Some of the types of trips we had considered in the past were no longer practical, since my father suffered bouts of issues with his back that could at times limit his mobility, but we were still interested in a trip that fulfilled that basic desire for exploration and was not limited to ingesting sites tailored for consumption. 

October is about the earliest I would be available to travel since I had fire fighting responsibilities as part of my job.  The previous years fire season had been active so we were financially ahead and we had our 25th anniversary coming up this October as another excuse.  A call confirmed that my parents were excited about planning a trip together, now just to decide where and what to do.  

My father had purchased a timeshare that could be traded for timeshares in Europe that we were perusing for ideas when I noticed narrowboats in England.  Timing wasn’t optimal, a cold wet fall in England didn’t sound so appealing.  Much to my surprise, canals and inland waterway travel was common throughout much of Europe and France has about 2700 miles of inland canals.

Boat travel from a practical stand point seemed to meet our needs, but it also evokes some romantic notions.  We could move at our own pace through the countryside and villages along the waterway, we could enjoy a routine and not have to regularly relocate, we could cook and a boat would accommodate travel even if mobility was an issue.  Considering the time of year we were going to travel we settled on France as a destination due to the climate and the numerous hire boat operators and regions available.  

We haven’t had the same travel experiences since I traveled with my parents as a child.  They have been traveling as part of retirement, mostly with guided tours.  It is a convenient way to travel, there are some bargains to be had and the details are dealt with.  For the last 6 years Lori and I have been motorcycle touring without a great deal of planning other than a general direction, a map and reliance on the ability to cover a lot of ground to give serendipity the opportunity to provide insights.  

As the first trip with my parents as an adult and what could be the only one,  I wanted this trip to meet all of our needs.  As I consider the logistics and our desires for an envisioned trip, I develop parameters, these included; boat availability with 2 cabins, potential for decent weather, a travel path that included numerous towns and villages, and ideally a one way tour or a loop to avoid backtracking.  Backtracking turned out to be a limiting factor for most of the hire boat operators.  There are 8 hire boat cruising regions in France, but only a couple that have multiple rental boat bases in a single region, which would accommodate a one way rental, the loops would take more time than we had available.  This narrowed the search down to the Canal du Midi and the Canal de Nivernias. 

We choose the Canal du Midi since it is the furthest south and passed though a variety of towns, villages and cities as part of the route we had planned.  We completed our Itinerary with a  plan to fly into Paris and rent an apartment there for a few days, then take a train to Toulouse before going on to Castelnaudary to board our boat.  

We have some friends who are from the Languedoc region of France & they let us know that in the countryside people may not be able to speak anything but French and that it would be good if we knew a little bit of the language.  By June all of our planning was done and we just had to work and study French until we were to leave in October.

*****

This is the end of the second installment in the ongoing series that details our introduction to river cruising on the European waterways and to our purchase and outfitting of our own boat to for travel and living in Europe. If you are interested in being notified of future installment releases, Subscribe to this series in the sidebar on the right.

If you missed the first installment it can be found under the category “A New Adventure-Series”


The Start of a Journey-Part 1

French Countryside

The sun washes out the fall colors as it climbs toward noon.  We slowly pass orchards on one side of the canal, where wagons are being filled with the grapes.  Fields of sunflowers yet to be harvested bent yearning toward the sun on the other.  Chateaus that have overlooked this ground for 400 years are on the distant hills, as we approach a tunnel of plane trees that will engulf us in shade and hide us from view. 

Sunflower field

The next lock will close a little before 12 o’clock so as not to infringe on the lock keepers lunch.  We could speed up and maybe make it before the lock closes, another lock behind us before lunch.  The sun is warm, the canal peaceful.  I am checking off benchmarks, efficiently using the day to accomplish my goals.  I struggle with non-action.  

A fisherman has parked beside the canal, his stool set in the sun for a day of waiting for a fish to bite.  Just before entering the tunnel of trees and leaving the sun is a little wharf  separated from the fisherman by 500 meters and the width of the canal.  “There is a good place for lunch”, Lori points out, supported my my mother.  

It would mean farther to go after lunch, but we wouldn’t be racing time to catch a lock and missing the delights of the day, besides there is a wharf here.  Fortunately I am the only person on this boat obsessed with goals.  I bring the boat in and tie up.

It was market day in Bram this morning.  A small village built with streets arranged in concentric circles around a fortress church dating from the 12th century.  We rode our bicycles the kilometer from the canal where we had moored for the night to find the village transformed into an outdoor market.  The stalls began just as you entered the village on the main street then snaked through the town, a feast for the senses occupying the entire street with a menagerie of colors, smells and activity.  When I had come into Bram the night before the streets were empty and signs of life were scarce, this mornings bustle elicits images of a summer fair.  We moved from stall to stall selecting fruits, vegetables, cheeses, meats and bread intoxicated by the array of items, before returning to the boat to start our travel for the day.  Now pulled to the side of the canal in the noon sun, we indulge in the harvest of the morning.

The Market in Bram

Mom and Lori started laying out this mornings bounty into a smorgasbord of local meats, cheeses, olives, bread and, of course wine, all displayed across the table on the deck of the boat in the sun.  Time no longer mattered, the sun had taken the chill off of the fall morning, a light breeze blew the smell of autumn across the fields and we enjoyed it all while life went on around us, following the circadian clock of the season.

It didn’t take long that day, it was our second day on the canal, when I left my stress behind and changed the pace I was living at.  I didn’t insist we depart just before one O’clock to ensure we were the first in the queue to enter the lock, we didn’t even depart at one O’clock and I was fine with it.  I had transitioned from meeting goals to experiencing another culture.  

For me this is the what I am looking for while traveling, not a rush from destination to destination, but to become part of the environment, to experience another culture to become part of it.   

Maybe I have taken the first step, I’ve noticed that the French seem to prioritize their life, not on their work and making money, but on enjoying the pleasures available. 

*****

This is the end of the first installment in the ongoing series that details our introduction to river cruising on the European waterways, to our purchase and outfitting of our own boat for travel and living in Europe. If you are interested in being notified of future installment releases, Subscribe to this series in the sidebar on the right.

On to Bend

I force myself to stay in the tent at least till dawn breaks; otherwise our schedules will be incompatible.  I have developed a specific routine to give Lori more time to sleep, while I start prepping for the days travels.  It’s a compromise, I generally get up very early and start my day, Lori would prefer to sleep in.  With this routine I’m not moving as fast as I’d like to be, but Lori is moving faster than she would normally, so we meet in the middle. Once coffee and tea is ready I wake Lori with a cup, it is just barely enough incentive to get her going.  After breakfast Lori showers while I start packing the bike so we can be off at a reasonable time, with that said we are rarely moving before 9 am.

It’s not a matter of just ride, ride, ride, but we’re trying to cover a lot of miles and if we want to have the leisure to stop, then we need to budget our time.  Unlike car travel, a 500 plus mile day is hard on a motorcycle, 350 mile days are what I like to plan for and 150–250 mile days provide opportunities to really see an area while traveling leisurely. Anyhow with these kinds of time/mileage constraints if we don’t start rolling till noon, we either aren’t going to get very far or we aren’t going to stop much.

Late last night a couple of motorcyclists pulled into the campsite across from ours.  While we were both packing this morning we visited a little bit, the basic questions; where are you going? Where have you been?  Turns out they had been riding around Yellowstone and were heading back home to Spokane; they were planning on taking a loop through northeastern Oregon but ran out of time.  Since they weren’t going to be able to ride through northeastern Oregon and we were, they offered to let us take their riding guide book on the area and mail it back to them latter.  We appreciated the offer but settled for letting Lori read through some of the routes so we could decide what route to take across Oregon.  Over the years we’ve grown somewhat accustomed to help and generosity from fellow riders, this is not an exception.  We wished each other safe travels and were both on our way within 5 minutes of each other.

I typically know where we want to end up at the end of the day, but don’t have a rigid plan of how we will get there.  Today we are going to start by heading towards Enterprise, Oregon on highway 129, which will take us through the Grande Ronde River Canyon.  I had hoped to make it through here last night and camp on the other side of the canyon, but we were worn out and the heat in the canyon would have been miserable.

It’s overcast, but the temperature is pleasant.  We cross the river to Clarkston, Washington and turn south on 129.  We ascend out of the out of the river bottom onto bench land covered in wheat fields that are being lit by the morning sun as it peeks through the clouds, the day is starting out wonderfully.  After about 20 miles we start the descent into an arm of Hells Canyon formed by the Grande Ronde River.  The road is tight twisties as it descends and ascends the canyon walls and there is no traffic, allowing for a pleasant spirited ride for about 20 miles.  Once on the other side of the canyon the terrain changes to rolling bench land with occasional views of the canyon to the east, it’s here just after you enter the Wallowa-Whitman National Forest that I would like to explore as a possible campsite in the future.

We get to Enterprise about 10:30, the coffee I made this morning wasn’t the best and we are ready for a break.  After riding around town a bit we find an establishment downtown named Gypsy Java, it looks interesting, we go in.  It’s kind of eclectic, lots of seemingly unrelated things around, furniture, games, books, art work, musical instruments, we like it.  We visit with the barista, probably the proprietor, as she gets our orders.  Slow, but excellent, the day is still beautiful and we take the handmade mugs outside to enjoy.

Suzuki V-strom

Suzuki V-strom

Our bike sits on the street fully loaded with our discarded riding gear draped over it.  It’s a dual sport motorcycle developed for adventure touring, a Suzuki DL-650 V-Strom.  All of our supplies for a two week trip are packed onto the motorcycle.  In the right side case are our clothes, the left side case contains our tent, sleeping bags and sleeping pads, the tank bag has our toiletries, electronics, and maps, the tank panniers carry water and tools; everything we need on our trip except food, which we buy as we go.  We have a topcase on the back of the bike for storing helmets and gear when we stop, but it is usually empty when we are riding; this helps maintain the proper weight distribution for riding.  I always enjoy riding into a campground filled with Assorted RV’s loaded with toys, towing other toys and am glad we don’t require as many things to enjoy traveling.

Adventure touring motorcycles are configured to be multifunctional, opposed to street racing or off road motorcycles, they are able to perform many tasks.  Some of the characteristics common to adventure touring motorcycles include an upright riding position, wider handle bars and suspension that is more compliant and has a greater range of travel; this allows them to more easily travel on both paved and unpaved surfaces.  Other than a few basic similarities individual makes can vary widely, from 400cc to 1200cc and from more dirt oriented to more street oriented.  In reality any motorcycle can be used for adventure travel, the most important element is a rider with a desire and the skills to make it happen.

The V-Strom is at the lower end of the price curve for a bike that is configured for adventure touring and able to easily ride 2 up.  The engine does seem to be working when we are droning down the interstate 2 up, but it is more than capable when riding the back roads, and we hate riding the interstate anyway.  It’s not a dirt bike by any means, most adventure touring bikes aren’t, but we have ridden many miles on dirt roads and jeep trails, a nice option when traveling.  Depending on how hard we ride we can go a little over 200 miles before we need to fuel up, and when there is a need we can ride easy and get 250 miles out of it.

The sun was breaking through the clouds in a few places to the east, but we were heading west towards an incoming front.  We weren’t out of Enterprise more than 30 miles on highway 82 before we started feeling the change in the weather, the winds became strong out of the southwest producing a headwind as we got closer to La Grande.  By the time we reached La Grande we needed fuel and a rest from the weather.

I realized this was going to be a hard day of riding.  I wanted to make Bend, Oregon before stopping which was at this point about 300 more miles; it was already 12:30, considering the roads probably 6 more hours of riding.  The fuel break turned into and hour, early in a trip there is no such thing a s quick stop, we are still getting into the routine.

The winds were not as big a factor after we left La Grande, but the temperature continued to drop for the rest of the day and we rode through a few rain squalls.  The roads were good; I’ve ridden through northeast Oregon a number of times and have yet to find a bad road, apparently I’m not the only one who thinks so, local stores in the area have printed up a motorcycle touring map they give out.  We picked up 244 to Ukiah and from there we headed towards Heppner.

From Heppner we took Hwy 207 south to Mitchell. We needed fuel and  Mitchell is not much of a town; at one time been prosperous but not anymore. Mitchell is just east of the John Day Fossil beds National Monument on Hwy 26, I’d guess that much of their business comes from motorcyclist on day rides from Bend, enjoying the twisties through the canyon.   None the less there was an old gas station, with not quite antique pumps.  It didn’t look open, but as we rode up the attendant walked out from behind the building to fuel us.  Oregon passed a law that doesn’t allow for self service fuel pumps, but it does exempt motorcyclist as long as an attendant starts the pump for them.  Fortunately we had cash in small bills, the operation didn’t take credit cards and for a cash drawer there was an assortment of change spread out across the top of the gas pump.  We kind of have to envy the ability for a business man to be able to say “the hell with modernization I’m gonna run it this way”.

We are both pretty worn out by this time, every so often the sun peeks through the clouds giving the hope that it will warm up; the hope is false.  We are about 100 miles from Bend and there are two towns that may have lodging before we get there, Prineville and Redmond.  I do a quick search on my phone to see if there are any decent lodging prices and find none.  We will push on to Bend.

There is a State Park campground just north of bend on the Deschutes River called Tumalo, we’ve stayed there in the past.  The State Parks in Oregon are nice; many have options besides tent camping such as yurts, tepees or log cabins which we have used in the past.  We were both chilled as we pulled into Tumalo State Park.  In our rush to get here we didn’t stop to put on heated gear as it cooled off.  After hours of riding in falling temperatures you lose a lot of heat from your body and I have to say apparently we don’t learn very quickly because this happens once about every trip.  I had hoped one of the yurts would be available, they have heaters and we would be able to warm up, but there weren’t. The price had also gone up, last year the yurts rented for $27 per night and now they were $39.

I looked up hotels and found some that started at $35, so we went into town and got one.  I use an app on my phone called “Hotel Price Compare”, it looks at 30 different hotel booking sites for last minute deals, it came up with a good one at $42.  While checking in the front desk attendant said the price would be $52, I told him it was advertised at $42 and he said that was for 1 person.  I was too tired and cold to argue or go somewhere else so we checked in.

We immediately turned up the heat, got out of our wet clothes then took hot showers to get the heat back in our bodies.  While Lori was showering I went across the street and got a Pizza and a bottle of wine and we were done for the night, all is good.

Tomorrow our pace changes.

Motorcycle Travel and the Beginning of a Trip

Wind, speed, passing cars, the drone of the engine, a monotonous ribbon of lined concrete passing through a familiar landscape. So many times I have come this way.

Silence from my companion.

This is how it always starts. We left latter than I had hoped, as usual, probably the unconscious result of a struggle for control. Push, push, go, go escape. We aren’t the same, I am results oriented, Lori is a planner. Left on my own I’d get where I was going on schedule without enjoying it and she would get there whenever, but would experience the details of the journey. In the end the combination of personalities works well, but at the beginning of a trip it takes some time to adjust to the new rhythms for both of us.

It doesn’t help that it is a long way to a point where the act of travel departs from the routine and the excitement of new experiences begin. In reality new experiences can begin anytime your mind is open to them, but mine usually isn’t at the beginning of a trip. Going anyplace in Montana requires a good distance of travel, and travel is part of my working routine. For me, time off and the ability to acclimate to time off is benefited by a change of environment. I don’t consider myself uptight, but I am. People who know me well see it, acquaintances generally don’t. Lori lives with it and is unsure as to whether I ever chill out.

Stopping and living in the moment is what travel is about, but I have trouble in the beginning. We got a late start by my designs which means we have to make time, we actually don’t but I have a schedule. We stop in Deer Lodge for fuel after an hour and a half in the saddle. There hasn’t been much for conversation. Lori has a headache and needs to pee, I fuel up. Fifteen minutes break, moving again.

It started out chilly this morning, about 55 degrees, but sunny with scattered clouds. The light is flat as we ride through a landscape that invites travelers, while we press on with only the intent of moving through it. The miles have been uneventful as I try to focus on the task of riding, becoming aware of our surroundings and giving the task the attention it deserves. Distractions keep intruding; did I leave enough instructions for the house sitter, are my task at work finished, what am I going to come back to. I struggle to start living in the present, it won’t happen today.

We make Missoula by 12:30 and stop for lunch. Three hours is good time if you’re trying to be efficient, but making that kind of time from Bozeman to Missoula requires you travel along I-90. I drive this regularly; unfortunately there aren’t a lot of other options unless you are planning to see Montana, then you will need to make them. We’re not interested in spending time in Montana on this trip since we do it regularly, some of it as part of my job. Even with extra time there are not a lot of alternatives for the travel between Bozeman and Missoula that are direct, the mountains get in the way. If you want to ride paved routes you can contrive them along highway 200 by way of Helena or by piecing your way though Virginia City and into Darby then up Highway 93. You would have to plan for between 4.5 and 6 hours compared to 3 on the interstate. If you don’t need to get anywhere and you can ride dirt, then you have more options.

We stopped at Quiznos for lunch. Fast food and chains are never a preference and are usually avoided, but I’m want to move on.  Once stopped it always takes longer than I think it should. Even though we made good time to Missoula, our lunch break took an hour and a half so the time gained was lost at the stop. Its early in the trip and I’m not yet able to enjoy the moment, even though the weather has become nearly perfect for lunch in the sun.

We leave Missoula on highway 12 which goes over Lolo pass then down the Lochsa River. In the back of my mind I hope to get to a place on the Wallowa-Whitman National Forest about 30 miles North of Enterprise Oregon to camp. I’ve ridden by this area in the past and it appears that if you were to pull off on one of the Forest roads a little ways you could find a place to camp that would allow you to wake up to the sun rise over Hells Canyon. Of course it doesn’t hurt that camping in the national forest is free.

Going over Lolo Pass I finally feel I am leaving the routine and open to new possibilities, encounters and experiences.

Highway 12 is a great road if there isn’t a lot of traffic and today it is a great road, especially on a motorcycle. The road corridor follows the wild and scenic Lochsa River through its canyon. The temperature is rising as we descend down the river canyon, it’s in the high 70’s but it would be much higher if they weren’t moderated by the river. The canyon is fairly narrow and so the road is curvy, a good thing on a motorcycle.

A rest on the Lochsa

A rest on the Lochsa

Since I’ve loosened up a little bit we have started to communicate more. We have communication devices that are attached to our helmets that allow us to talk as we ride. We don’t talk much as a rule, but share observations, plans and needs. Not all motorcyclists like the communications systems, for some part of the pleasure is the time alone in your head even when traveling with a companion. For me being able to talk to Lori reduces potential frustration when we are trying to make decisions on the fly and allows us to share observations that we can reflect on and enjoy later.

In general with or without communications traveling with a companion on a motorcycle is an intimate experience. The intimacy is derived from the close physical contact on the motorcycle seat, the coordination required to perform the task of riding proficiently, and a shared experience. The person on the back is referred to as a pillion. Riding pillion is not a passive act; the pillion affects the way the bike handles especially when the riding is spirited. With a good pillion and  pilot the bike can perform at a high level, while both parties get satisfaction from the riding experience. Lori has become a good pillion.

When we started motorcycle touring, gas prices were high, our money was short and the motorcycle seemed like a tool that would give us more opportunity to travel. We weren’t expecting the other experiences it has made available. Motorcycle travel is not just another way to be transported but an experience of its own.

Unlike traveling in a car, you are part of the environment, if it’s cold your cold, if it’s wet your wet, and then sometimes, it’s perfect. Even though perfect is nice, cold & wet or any other condition lends itself to the experience as well.  Some of our best stops have been during adverse conditions creating serendipitous experiences in the moment. It’s not just about the conditions but an experience of the senses as you ride, you feel the wind and smell your surroundings, riding by an onion field you sense the fields, the smell of the fresh tilled earth, the sweet onions that have just been harvested, as you hear and see birds along the marshes beside the fields. True it’s not as intimate as riding a bike or walking, but you can’t cover 4000 miles in 2 weeks riding a bike or walking. You are consciously living in the moment, not just processing time prior to arrival at your destination.

The interstate systems have created a homogenous landscape dominated by the ubiquitous chains of fuel, food and lodging at exits.  They provide a fast efficient route of travel across the country at the expense of culture. In general my preference is to travel the back roads and alternate routes across the country, not only are they more pleasant riding, but they allow you to experience the local culture as it has developed to support the needs of a community.

For us stopping is as much a part of motorcycle travel as the riding itself. We are always looking for places that are creative or unique, be they food related or cultural, to stop, rest and catch up on conversation. Along with the mandatory reasons for stopping we stop as a break from the physical environment, which when it is challenging can increase the appreciation of the stop.

On one trip we rode into an unexpected snow storm, furthermore we had just come over a mountain pass and were severely chilled, this was before we had heated gear, as we came into a little town we stopped at a coffee house/bookstore with a fireplace to warm up. Once inside and out of our riding clothes in front of the fire, we spent the next hour warming up and enjoying coffee while visiting with the locals. This establishment was not Starbucks or one of their many competitors, but what chains do their best to emulate and sell. This is the real thing, and we wouldn’t have found and experienced it except that we were cold, conditions were bad and we needed to warm up. What we found was a piece of real culture, something many businesses try to sell today; they are poor imitations once you have experienced the real thing. The problem with these types of experiences is that once you have experienced something real, there is no being satisfied with an imitation.  Hence the need to keep riding and looking, finding those things that are real in society, people who do what they do because they care.  In the end that is what travel is about.

For me travel goes beyond the physical environment and is a conduit to ideas and cultures, hopefully an opportunity to increase my awareness of the conditions and needs of other peoples so I can be part of the changing world. It is a mindset and really only requires openness, be it for an hour, a day or a week.

As we transitioned from the Lochsa River drainage to the Clearwater River drainage on Highway 12 the road changes from what we call twisties to sweepers and the valley gets broader resulting in an increase in the temperature. Twisties and sweepers refer to the types of curves in the road; sweepers are long gently curves whereas twisties refer to tight turns where one follows another. The increasing temperature is a problem for us, our ideal riding temperatures are between 50 degrees and 85 degrees Fahrenheit, and if there is a choice when riding outside of that range I would choose lower temps as long as there is no ice.

By 5:30 and we are about 20 miles from Lewiston Idaho, the temperature is nearing 100 degrees Fahrenheit, there is no cooling from the hot wind. The heat is sucking the energy out of our bodies and as we get closer to Lewiston the temperature continues to rise. By this time it is obvious that we aren’t going to make it farther than Lewiston today and we will have to stop. Its 102 degrees as I stop on the outskirts of Lewiston to check my hotel finder app on my smart phone to see if there are any cheap hotels available. This is a copout, I had planned to camp, but we are both miserably hot and the idea of air conditioning is an alluring siren. While sweating in my gear on the side of the road the app dashes my hopes of cheap hotel lodging and we head to the Hells Gate State Park Campground at the entrance to Hells Canyon south of town. Lack of options kept us honest to our budget and plans. We had planned to camp most of the trip, both to reduce expenses and to maintain contact with the environment. There are only rare occasions where a hotel room is actually part of the culture or environment of a place.

We had a simple dinner of chips, humus, salami and a box of wine while we relaxed, glad that we had been forced to camp.