India dental tour

My dentist in Comox did a budget repair on a brocken tooth last year. She said I would need a crown soon. It broke off this summer. I did not have the money for a crown at the time so an intern that she had working with her did another budget repair, for no cost. A few days later it broke off. Previously I had lost a tooth that my mexican partial plate was hanging off of. Then a filling popped out. I did not have enough money to get all this work done. I decided I would have to go to Mexico or India to get the work done. Luckily I found a buyer for an extra motorcycle that I previously had trouble selling. Judy said she was willing to go to India again after she finished teaching her Elder College coarse on India.   We bought our tickets in India town in Vancouver. I worked hard and continuously for a month getting the garden ready for the spring and preparing the house for the winter. We found a wonderfull house sitter and booked a hotel room in Delhi.
  The 13 hour trip to Hong Cong was grueling but not as bad as we had anticipated. The next 6 hour flight to Delhi was easier. I got a bit of sleep but Judy did not. The hotel bed felt so good. We both awoke about 6:30 after only about 4 hours sleep. India is one day plus 13 1/2 hours ahead of BC, so the jet lag wakes us up early. Last night, day 3, I woke up wide awake at 2:00 am. I did go back to sleep and woke at 6:30. Maybe jet lag is over now ?



I forget where I left off on my traveling blog. I can't look it up because we don't have Internet here near Gopi Ganj U.P.  . We left Mirzapur, where we did catch up with email but didn't get computer time to write in the blog.
 Judy always asked what the weather is like every morning. I often reply " another rainy day.  Actually it's another boring blue sky with dung smoke. "
 Today we had a visitor to Kusam Seagar's home:  Bhagwan Das's daughter, sort of Edward Okelys adopted daughter , Ekta.

Judy's English father , Michael Norbury, came to India in 1930 to work in the  carpet industry. After Judy got Polio and they left for Canada, Michael stayed behind to train Geoffrey Seager, Kusams husband who died 3 years ago; same year as my son Kyle's and Judy's mother's deaths.  Edward is the chairman of OBT Limited Carpets, across the street from where Judy and her family lived on the banks of the Ganga. Bhagwan Das worked as Edwards right hand man. He  tragically died last year. Edward pays for a good  education of his servants children , including BD's daughter Ekta and her sister.

The 4 of us went in Edwards jeep ,5 including the driver, to visit a clinic that happens about every 4 months in a remote area  . It was a bumpy ride down a pot holed paved road. When we finally got to the town/ village , the road appeared to be blocked by a wedding party. We turned back and headed for home. I noticed we where going a different way that was smoother. I checked the gps on my iPhone to see where we were. It was a way that was 3 times as far but we were already  pretty close to a larger road that would take us back through a big town/city and then back to Gopi Gange, avoiding the rough roads we came in on.
When I relayed the fact that we were heading in a different way, Kusam and the driver were supprised and started asking people how to get back. The Driver actually started to turn around to go back the way we came. I finally convinced them to trust the gps and keep going away from our destination so we could connect with the larger smoother road. A few kilometers later we made our turn and were heading home.
Most of the trip was through farming villages built right to the edge of the road. Piles of dung that has been mixed with hay, straw piles, buffalos on short chains.

Wednesday december 12
The generator was just turned on so my iPhone is charging while I am using it. I used up most of the battery using the maps and gps apps, and a few videos.
Yesterday I rented a motorcycle off our friend Amrit , the battery businessman. Today I rode it along the GT road from here near Gopi Gange to the Dentist in Allahabad. I was a little apprehensive as to the danger of the ride. There are not too many rules that are followed. The most important thing about riding here is to point your machine in a predictable direction. If you think someone might move into your intended path, you beep, they will probably move over a little and won't move in your way. Speeds are lower here than in Canada. Sometimes vehicles will slip by less than an inch. Often a swarm of cars and motorcles will move across the centerline taking up the whole road. In this situation, or other head on situations, to avoid stopping or dropping off the road, the emergency signal is to flash your headlights on and off. They will all cooperate and make space for you.
The bike is an Indian 4 stroke 100cc. The bikes here are all of good quality. Sturdy with lots of torque. Low on hp, which is ok for the low speeds. Although at 85km/hr on the better open parts of the Grand Trunk road, the little 100 is near its max.
The GT road follows the ancient Silk Road. It's famous. Full of stories. Here it more or less parallels the holy Ganges.  At Allahabad it meets the Yumna and the mythical Saraswati rivers. This year the once every 12 years Kumb Mela meets here. It is the largest gathering in the whole world.
 Friday 14 dec.
We moved to Daffodil school yesterday. Kusum arranged for us to stay in a guest room in the girls domintory. There are 29 girl boarders here and 120 boys in another building across the football and cricket fields. The school has an attendance of  about 4000. Education is a private industry in India. The public schools are very substandard with over paid teachers who don't care much . A few weeks ago we had a tour of a college that we had no idea was there. A boy approached us in the street beside a high wall which hid the school. There are 6000 students attending it. Yesterday we went to a non- profit school which has children attending for free from the villages. It only costs $18/month to sponsor a child. It costs about $2000/

 year for kids to enroll at Daffodil. Daffodil is a great school . It's large, clean and has top quality education. Last night we attended a Rotary Club event at this school. There was a small contingent from the New Jersey Rotary Club. The school supplied the entertainment for all the posh dignitaries and club members. All 11 of the girls in a dance group came from our dormitory. They did Indian classical  dances. Fantastic. Better than any school performance that I have ever seen. 2 boys did very well choreographed modern interpretive dance. There was also a shadow dance. Very entertaining.  The Americans each had a slide show of thier lives in New Jersey. Judy and I thought it would be quite boring, but it was really interesting. Maybe it's because they where they first foreigners we've seen since Delhi, plus I lived in East Brunswick New Jersey from 63 to 66.
Today I rode from Mirzapur to Allahabad for the dentist. I am going there because of a recommendation from Kusam. Her cousin Kamal reccomended him. I am having my doubts.  Hygiene is not the best, although the west can be rather anal. But I have been to enough dentists to have an idea when things go a bit wrong. And not having the language skills to understand what's going on. I have a suspicion they are not telling me everything.
On the way to dentist I stopped in at Kamils . I actually forgot where they lived and spent a few minutes riding around before I found someone home that phoned for Kamal to come and escort me. Addresses here don't seem to work. Everything is based on a series of imbeded place names.  I was looking beside the wrong hospital. She was going to go with me to fix , or get another phone. Ours failed last night. We switched SIMM cards with KusamS and hers wouldn't with it, so we figured SIMM card was fucked. Anyway, I found the phone shop on my own. The phone shop is on the side of a main round about . Traffic is mostly motorcycles with small cars and trucks causing traffic jams. There is a general direction of flow but motorcycles  come from any direction. Big gets right of way but motorcycles get priority because they can flow easier in single file either side of the blockages. Unsignaled U turns in heavy traffic is common.
The shop is about 10 feet wide 7 feet high and about 6 feet deep. I guess her main business  is recharging SIMM cards.  She took the phone and did everything I did and it worked ? I thanked her for her magic touch.
After the dentist I went off to a shop owned by a friend  of  Kamals to get some good motorcycle gloves. I have been using a woolen pair that Kusam lent me. The trip to the shop was difficult. Negotiating the chaotic traffic takes a lot of concentration and to boot, I got off track right away. I had to do double duty trying to make sure I didn't get totally lost. It's hard for me to ask for directions since my Hindi sucks. I try and pick a group to ask . Often someone has basic english  They point in different directions, have discussions then have a concensus on something that I usually don't quite remember or understand.  I finally got the gloves after a bit of customary negotiations. 450 rupees( About $9).  Then 440 for gas. About 6.3 liters   310 km  . Wow : 49km/litre at 30 to 85km/hr. ; 130 miles per gallon.
Leaving from the shop, I got turned around. I got confused as to which way east was. I figured that several people did not understand that I was asking for the direction to Varanasi( Benares) . So after I crossed the familiar bridge I started to relax. To get home a little faster I took the shortcut on the bumpy road past Kusams house instead of staying on the nice GT road. My ass neck and back couldn't take the sitting, so I stood up. Standing is natural for me because of lots of dirt bike experience. It's quite unnatural for Indians so I must have been a spectacle. I past lots of bikes with their  riders going slow or being severally bounced in the saddle. I am not taking that way again. It took too much out of me at the end of a long day biking. By the time I started over the Ganga entering Mirzapur , I was feeling the fatigue.
There was a few games of  football, and a game of cricket happening as I walked to meet Judy in the girls Hostel.
Kusam has arranged for me to get an opinion on Dr Singh' s work at a hospital next door. I might get the rest of the work done here in Mirzapur.

Dec 15
A 14 year old boy from the school, one staff escort went to the hospital next door to see the dentist. It is a spacious hospital that runs on donations. The government hospitals      in the larger cities are very underfunded, dirty and crowded. The private for profit hospitals are much better.
The boy had a sore tooth. I watched as the dentist inspected the boy. He will need d root canal and a few fillings. Because it is a charity hospital his charge will be 600 rupees , $12, if I understood correctly. It was a very low class clinic. Things were dirty , there where many drip marks on equipment, grime was built up on switches, and broken bits were wired together. I will be continuing with Dr. Singh in Allahabad, as Mirzapur has only this one dentist.
Judy is earning our keep here. She spoke to the 6 grade 5 classes in two 45 minute settings. They really pirked up when they started asking questions like how she gets around at home, what Canada is like and what's our favorite things about India.

Dec 17
Rosamond and two of her friends arrived from Delhi yesterday. The Mughud Express was supposed to arrive at 6:00am. We asked Rosamond to call us when the train was at Allahabad ( 1.5 hours away) or at 8:00am. We knew the train is always at least 5 hours late, but poor Rosamond and friends: the train took 18.5 hours, not 10; 8  1/2 hours late !
They sent off to Kusams. Today they went to Varanasi with Kusam and driver. Most middle and upper class people use drivers. Most verbody else takes a bus or train or rides bicycles or motorcycles.
I went to a bigger and better dental clinic in Allahabad. Amrit says they are the best in that city. The 2 root canals that Dr. Singh did were redone at Dr. Rastogi's clinic. I was impressed with thier handheld wireless X-ray. I am going back tommorrow for a third root canal.  I feel as I should pay Dr Singh something for trying, although others say I don't have to pay.
  The ride  back on the GT road was pretty easy. I am feeling more comfortable with the way traffic works. Most of the way is 4 lanes with ditches and large medians. There is much less traffic, even going through the towns. There usually is a few minutes where I had to slow down to about 30 as I weaved between trucks and pedestrians . The trucks are like grain trucks all decorated with intricate paint jobs. They usually change lanes slowly and are predictable.  Vehicles, especially motorcycles often come opposing traffic direction on either side of the road, but they go slow and have thier lights on. When they want to come across traffic they will do it predictably by gradually changing direction.
The sights of today were: camels on side of rode feeding on high schrubs.
I had to brake for another camel bring goods into the city. One Hijra. A naked woman, just wearing tiny gstring in traffic. Solicitation ?
The other day I got caught behind an elephant in traffic a few times.
It takes 2 to 3 hours to do the commute each way.  I stopped at a dusty truck stop for some fantastic subgey. I took another chi break 1/2 hr from home; plus 2 fantastically good goolob jomins ..

Dec 18
Judy went with Rosamond Barbara Peggy and Kusam in two hired vehicles to the Mirzapur Club, a still active unsegredated English club from the days of the Raj.
I went to see Dr Rastogy for another dressing change on the 2 root canals that Dr Singh did. After a long discussion with Kamal and Shaker, Kamals husband , about the 2 dentists, I decided to pay Dr Singh and go with Dr Ristogy. Dr Singh was buSsy and a few people were ahead of me. I told the receptionist I would be back in 2 hours the rode around for 1/2 hour looking for Dr Ristogys clinic. I got to the Civil Lines area without much trouble but I had to ask 1/2 dozen people where it was. I went around the huge long blocks a few times, battling the intense traffic. I was pretty frazelled by the time I got to the clinic. I talked with the Dr about the options to get some teeth in my mouth. Implants are too expensive, even here. He suggested ceramic bridges. Still expensive. I said I would think about it. His junior reamed the chambers again. Now I understand the Indian root canal method. They don't take all the root out on the first sitting.
I went back to Sangam clinic and had a long talk with Dr. Singh . I now trust his work. He is 1/2 the cost of Ristogy also. The bridges Ristogy planned for me would likely have failed sooner or later. Partial dental plates is what Singh has recommended.  At a fraction of the cost of bridges.
I have caused a bit of gossip surrounding the suggestion that I didn't have to pay Dr Singh. I surmised that was only said because of a misunderstanding that Singh had done something wrong when Actually it was all my perception due to the different techniques used in India.
It was a pretty uneventfull ride back. I had to hit brakes hard for one dog. I stopped at a chi stand and was invited to a tent beside it where there was a large birthday party for a 2 year old boy.

Sidecar

A week after arriving home from my cross country trip I started planning a trip to Mexico on the Super Quarter. Judy said "What about me ? You can't keep leaving me alone at home" I said 'You could fly to Mexico and meet me there ?" Judy replied "How about getting a sidecar ? " Judy likes sidecars and suggested I get one before. I like 2 wheels better so i never got one. I always said I would pay half if she would pay half. Well this time willingly said she would pay half up to about $3000. I earnestly started looking.

My criteria for a sidecar hack had to be one that was capable of freeway speeds, which ruled out a few of the most common Russian built sidecars and the cheaper Chinese models. I also wanted leading link suspension instead of motorcycle forks. The leading link makes the steering lighter at high speeds and prevents diving on braking. It also had to have car wheels and tires, so that the contact patch would be bigger aiding in braking, cornering traction and tire life. Of course it had to have a sidecar brake.


Judy's criteria was it had to look good and mostly the car had to be easy to get into. Transferring from her wheelchair had to be easy and graceful.


The rigs that I saw posted for sale on the net that met my criteria were all over $12,000. I set a limit of $7000. The guys on the sidecar email group that I had joined laughed at my budget. Even the cheap Russian and Chinese sidecars started at about $10,000. There were none for sale on Vancouver Island. There were a few in Vancouver but just the Russian models. On the sidecar forums I saw one advertised in Pennsylvania that fit my budget another in Florida. But even those did not meet my criteria. I started to consider borrowing more. The more expensive high performance sidecars that I liked, Judy didn't like. My search expanded as far as Halifax, then into the states down as far as LA. I finally spotted one on Spokane's Craigslist. It was a 1985 BMW R100RT with factory installed sidecar with car tires, leading link forks, and sidecar brake for $7000. Judy liked it ! I phoned the seller in Cour D'Alene Idaho. It was purchased by his father in Germany in 1985. I asked a lot of questions and the seller said I should talk to his dad. He had put on 6,000km , shipped it to the US then stored it for 20 years. I asked what his business was and he said he had owned the largest chrome business in the US. I said "What kind of chrome ?" He said "Harley Parts" . I figured he was probably very rich. That's why he was able to afford parking the rig for 20 years. I offered $6000 which was accepted. I made a deposit on it, sight unseen. I was afraid it would get snapped up quick because of its apparently low price. I checked out Ty Cruze and his Custom Chrome business on the net. Yup he was very rich.


That week I hitchhiked to Vancouver to apply for a passport. When I got home I downloaded Hal's sidecar operators manual onto my iPhone. I packed up my helmet and riding gear and the next week I hitched back to Van. again, picked up my new passport and bought a bus ticket to Spokane. The trip east from Seattle was through dry badlands type scenery along a rather boring freeway. I was excited though and reviewed the sidecar operators manual.


Len, Ty's son picked me up in Spokane and drove me to his Dad's home in nearby Idaho. I liked the rig. I tried it out in his paved roads around his house and shop. It seemed to run well and brakes were o/k. They decided I was an alright guy and offered me their guest house to stay in. He had a beautiful 1908 Harley Davidson in his office. It's for sale$100,000. He also has a 1928 Harley sidecar that he used to used for deliveries in California. On the wall of his vehicle warehouse he had lots of pics of him racing with his buddies Steve McQueen and Malcolm Smith (famous motorcycle racer).

The next morning I set of early before sunrise. Ty came out and filled the gas tank for me. That was when I noticed the tank was badly rusted.

I had to get to the Canadian border at Osoyoos before 3:30. I had sent a copy of the title to the US customs 72 hours in advance and was worried that they might hassle me at the border for not having proper paper work. Their rules are ambiguous; changing from one crossing to another. I headed to Spokane where I was going to take Highway 2 east then north to Canada. Right away I noticed that it had no power. I assumed that the carbs were plugged with rust. It would only go about 80 top speed. About 10 km down the highway towards Spokane, the front brakes seized up. I thought it must be corrosion. I opened them up freed them and continued on making a point to keep them for emergency only as they would not release on their own. I was feeling rather frazzled. I saw the exit for highway 2. After riding for an hour I was starting to feel relaxed and was getting used to the odd feeling of a sidecar. I then realized I that the sun was straight ahead. Shit ! I am going east not west ! I saw a hydro line crew on a side road. I pulled i n to find out where I was. I did not want to use my iPhone GPS and pay the huge roaming fee. I few people pulled over to check out the rig. They all agreed that I should head north and take the scenic highway 20 through the park.

That was a great choice and I am very glad I went the wrong way and missed all the boring freeways east of Spokane. The road almost completely void of traffic. It wound through rolling hills and golden tamarack forests. If you read my previous blogs you will know how much I like riding twisty roads and highway 20 is twisty ! Many corners were posted slow to 15 mph. This was great practice. Its a bit of a trick to keep the sidecar wheel on the ground on right hand corners. Ty had placed an 80 pound bag of cement in the car as ballast. I wanted to find the limits of the rig. On a couple 'slow to 15mph' left hand corners, I found that I could comfortably go 45 km per hour. I tried 40 km/hr on a right hand 'slow to 15' corner. the side car went way up into the air, along with my heart. I had to turn left to get it back down and prevent a roll over. Whew. Glad no one was come as I crossed the center line. At the next 'slow to 15 corner' I tried 35 km/hr. Up the car went again and again I crossed the line. I guess I am a slow learner, or maybe I was trying to learn too fast. Since those 2 errors I have had no large surprises. I am now able to ride with no ballast and I even enjoy the feeling of going up onto 2 wheels.

In between the parks/national forests that I was riding though, there were a few villages and small towns. As I neared the Osoyoos crossing, with a few hours to spare, I stopped at a farmers market and bought some organic vegetables and enjoyed a veggie burger. On I went, north towards the border.

I accidentally went into Canada instead of to US customs first and had to loop back with all the uniformed agents watching me. The sidecar hack is rather noticeable. I showed the American custom agent my signed title, and about 30 seconds later he came back with the stamped approval . I was so surprised. I made a comment to how fast they were and he said wait until I get to Canada for the hassles. The first Canadian customs agent said I had to get a letter from the manufacturer because we could not find a Department Of Transport sticker saying it complied with American laws. My heart sank. It seemed like I would have to park it there while I waited for a letter from Germany. Another agent came forward and had a look for a sticker. She said I could pay the tax and bring it in and ICBC might later ask for the letter before I could license it. Finally another agent came out and said all they needed was a date of manufacture and said "how about Jan. 1985 ?" I said sounds good and away I went with Ty's Idaho plate on the back. I figured I was not really legal riding with the US plate, but nobody said anything to me about it.

That evening I made it to Ben and Rebecca's (Judy's x). I spent the next morning cleaning carbs and tuning the motor and working on the brakes. I headed out on the highway towards Vancouver but had to immediately turn around and go back to Ben's. The rear tire was bouncing up and down. The old tire was failing. I was warned not to ride on 25 year old rubber but Ty and I assumed they were probably o/k because it was stored in a heated garage. Good thing it had no power or else the tire might have gone sooner at a higher speed.

I could not get tires locally and had to order the antique tires from Tennessee. I hitched to Vancouver.

10 days later the tires arrived at Ben's and I took the bus back, installed the tires and drove home the following day.

I took Judy for a short ride. She loved it. It was real easy for her to get in and out of. I also took Ryan and a friend for a ride. But after only 100 clicks or so of riding the rear brakes failed. I could not find the parts to rebuild the rear brakes so with a lot of searching on the net I found a similar master cylinder that I had to do some machining to get it to fit. The side car tire was even harder to find. It was a French tire for an antique Fiat. Amongst other things, I had to do more work on the front brakes, replace wheel bearings, replace seals, do a major tune up and fluid change . I also beefed up the roll bar, especially since I had to add a seatbelt for Judy. It was a lot of work getting it into good shape. I was lucky to get it home with the few problems that I had.

One of the members on the sidecar forum told me that the sidecar is actually an EML and not BMW. EML was a sidecar manufacturer that made high quality kits to convert motorcycles for efficient sidecar usage, including the leading link forks, fender, car rims and tires , sidecar brake and rear master cylinder. But BMW stopped making strong frames that were suitable for sidecars in 1969. Instead of dropping BMW from their list, they made the frame for the BMWs . So technically its actually a unit, not a rig or hack (as in hacked together).

I only just finished touching up a few scratches and sending off photos and an application for a collector plate. ( 60% reduced insurance). Now if it will only stop raining so we can go on a bit longer trip. Maybe Mexico next year.
pics at http://s233.photobucket.com/albums/ee38/ross-judy/sidecar/

The short way home, Xcountry part 2

The anxiousness that I felt at the thought of the 10,000 more kilometers I needed to ride to get home, kept arising. Often it came in the form of excitement. Its funny, with all the discomfort and sometimes outright pain that this type of motorcycle travelling is causing me, I still am not tired of it. Most of it is a little boring and tedious, but when I start riding in a more sporty style, it all becomes worth it. The endorphins and adrenaline take all the pain away. Its a blast gliding into a tight corner, sharply leaning the bike over, then gradually adding power to accelerate out as the bike straightens up. Then repositioning my body to help the bike steer into the next corner. The better roads for thrills have sharp little hills that give a feeling of weightlessness as the wheels almost leave the road.

Brian got tickets for a boat cruise down the inlet. We figured it was a history guided tour. Whoops. That was the afternoon tour. We were on the booze cruise. Oh well, the beer tasted good and Brian did the commentary and gave me some local history about the fishing industry and canneries.

The highlight for my trip to Newfoundland was going for dirt bike rides with Brian. On Thursday we borrowed Don's KLR650 again, and we took off up into the hills near Corner Brook. We followed some rough trails through the sometimes barren landscape. It's obvious the weather here is rather harsh most of the year. The landscape at this slightly higher altitude reminds me of the Arctic tundra or alpine meadows at treeline. We did not go a bit higher where the table top is; where the mantle protrudes through the earth's crust. It is barren , appears to be just more or less a rock hump. It is a protected area , unique in the world.

The week hanging out with Brian and Silvie went by very quickly. I gave the little four cylinder bike another tune up. I didn't have a manometer, a pressure reading device that is used to synchronize all 4 carburetors, so I just used my ear and pulling off spark plug leads. It ran much better after this second try at tuning. The chain was getting worn but I hoped it would make it. The tires were about half worn so I figured they would make it also.

I made reservations in advance for Sunday noon departure for the mainland. The weather did not look good. The ferry was going to be late due to heavy rain and gale force winds. They were predicted to be heading up as I planned to be going down. It looked like my good luck with lack of rain was about to catch up. Brian offered to load my bike on his trailer and drive me the 2 hours south to the ferry. I declined. I had good rain gear and when I arrived I could warm up while waiting for the ferry departure. I kissed Silvie goodbye and Brian rode with me for a while. The storm fizzled out and I didn't see a drop of rain, however it was cloudy and rather chilly riding. It does not have to get very cold on an unfaired motorcycle to start feeling chilly riding. At 13 degrees c, I dress for, like, 20 below.

The ferry ride was great. It was the big boat, like a little cruise ship. I picked a stage front table with enough room for the half dozen bikers that met in the line. One guy was from Vancouver Island also. Another guy, quite a hunk, wearing stylin leather pants and jacket, had lots of stories, and couple on a Harley and another guy who kept to himself.

It was a little late by the time I got near my next wwoof host in Nova Scotia. It started to spit rain at me so I finally broke down and put my rain coat on. Not the pants too though. The host was just going to bed and she told me to stay in the little cabin 200 meters down the road. It started raining hard as I rode the 200 meters holding my jacket shut with my left hand. The cute little cabin was dry and still warm from the day's heat. My host had made a bed for me and there were coal oil lamps to light up the 4 tables that were set up for what looked like a tea party. Funny, up this dirt road, in this tiny cabin in a pasture. The mad hatters tea party ?

I was up earlier that my hosts so I wandered around taking pictures. I met my host doing chores and we had great conversations. She was a bereavement councilor. I didn't stay long. It's a long way home. She fed me porridge, with fresh goat yogurt . I washed the dishes, and headed off.

I resisted the urge to get on the freeway and make miles. Instead I chose the more fun, scenic, other side of the river, route. And I am so glad I did. It was another one of those hilly, twisty rides, sometimes rough but just enough to add some challenge. Later I got on the freeway to make up time. I didn't get far enough to get to the next host, the one who turned me down on my way east because I called with too short of notice. I was within the Fredericton boundary and finding a good, quiet isolated camp spot with the sun so low would be a challenge. Not with the iPhone ! I used maps and the gps to see where I was. Then I used google earth to find a spot by a creek down a little over grown road. Back to maps and plotted a course. Within 15 minutes, after scaring a moose of the trail, I was at the perfect little camp spot, talking to Judy on the phone.

New Brunswick mostly went by in a blur as I pushed the little bike to keep up with the faster cars on the 4 lane slab. The same for the highway to Quebec City. It was great knocking off so many miles in one day. I had seen enough of cities on this trip, not really that many, but what I have seen interests me in no way. All the cars and concrete makes them so unnatural and unappealing for me. I blasted straight through Quebec City and back onto the fantastic motorcycle roads north west of ST. Raymond, where I found a gorgeous spot to camp on what appeared to be part of the Trans Canada Trail. It's a lot easier making lots of miles by camping. I can ride sun up to sundown. Where as wwoofing is only really satisfying if one stick around for the morning to help with the farm work, and for hostels you need to stop near developed centres. I don't do hotels in North America.

I arrived at Celine's Wwoofing farm, you know, the one near St. Melanie, in late morning. I needed a break, she had a day off from her health care evaluation job, and I wanted to help her get some harvesting caught up. I'd helped her CSA (Community Supported Agriculture)partner in their gardens but had not done much for Celine on previous stop. So it was payback time. Besides going for a walk on her huge property with some foresters, I worked all afternoon .

It looked like I was going to hit rain again as I headed towards Ottawa the next morning. I Used my gps a lot to keep steering away from the menacing thunder heads and rain storms. I zigzagged north and s trying to keep heading west, up to nearly Mont Tremblant , half way down to Montreal then only a bit west of Mont Tremblant again. The roads were constantly getting wet in front of me but it never rained on me. Ottawa: I stopped at Mike's old house where we used to fix our motorcycles and VW bugs.
I looked at our home on Winninton Ave where we lived after coming back from Colombia. As I sped between rain showers on the Queensway, I took a picture of Bayshore, sort of a project where we lived as pre teens and teens. It was a fun high density place to live. The good ol Bell high friends. Mike, Jim, Mortz, Ron, Paul,

I spent a couple more nights with Mike. We took a motorcycle ride over to Ron's , and I again tuned my little bike and added a tiny bit of oil. I had to top up only about one litre total for the entire trip.

I was planning to visit with my nephew for dinner but the weather was great for riding and now there was a fire under my butt; I wanted to go home now! I had been away from my love Judy long enough. I also planned to visit with Kathy and Mom again in Orillia but it seemed like Kathy was away for the long weekend. Really I just wanted to get this ride done while the riding was good. It was hot in Ontario and Quebec but it was cooling off in the west and even some wet snow in the Rockies.
I left Mike's and again took side roads. Even the main secondary highways were plugged with long weekend traffic. I found some great little twisty highways that headed sort of in the direction that I wanted to go. One highway was blocked by construction. It was an hour to go around so I took a gamble and headed towards the blockage. A fellow in a small 4 wheel drive waved me down and told me a short cut that my bike might make. It was odd riding through woods on tractor trails and following truck tracks through hilly pastures. After about 5 kilometers I came out about 100 meters further up the highway past the construction. Fun. I hit the trans Canada and took off north and west at a high rate of speed trying to make up for the slow but fun roads of the morning. I did take the time to swim at a great beach on the north shore of the warm lake Superior. I camped on a reserve on the Canadian Shield amongst the scenic wet lands.
The satellite pictures showed heavy rains ahead at Thunder Bay. I took my time heading that way, then stopped at Marathon to have my rear end, of the bike, looked at. It was making a clicking noise that I was having trouble diagnosing. The small shop just finished doing a repair for a BMW motorcycle that had its rear wheel bearings break and do a fair bit of damage. The owner of the shop wanted to install new bearings. I was not convinced and he did not have any in stock. The mechanic said the chain was o/k. They put it back together as I planned to ride it to Thunder Bay to get it fixed.
I stayed in a great hostel just short of thunder bay. It was the home of the original Backpackers Hostel chain. Still only $20. I had enough time to go to the nearby river for a swim. It was a bit too late to swim in the lake. The next day I diagnosed the noise as the chain. The sprockets were good enough still that a new chain was good enough to get me home.

I made it to Winnipeg, a little late after sunset due to the chain repair in Thunder Bay. I had a great visit with my cousin Don , who I have not seen since I was about 8 and Don was about 13.

I screamed the little 250 for a while to cover a few miles fast but in the strong headwind my gas mileage dropped quite a bit. It looked like I would get to the hostel in Swift Current a little early, so I slowed down and did some fuel consumption tests. I held steady speeds and refueled every 40 to 60 clicks. Best was 72 miles per gallon (27 km/litre) at 90kph and the worst was 36mpg (13km/l) at 140kph. I tried to go slow the rest of the trip but I usually went with the flow to minimize car encounters. The fear of getting rear ended tends to push my speeds up.(I've got history with being rear ended)

So the hostel was actually an expensive bed and breakfast. It was depressing being in this strange city as it was about to get dark with no good wild places to camp nearby. Didn't want to camp any way because it looked like rain for sure. I ordered a large meal and talked to Judy on the phone. I tried a few commercial campgrounds that are in the city boundary. One had a covered picnic area that I could camp in. only 8 bucks. I finished my meal as big rain drops began to fall. It looked black and ominous outside. The wind was picking up. I wanted to get to the campground before it hit. I took off fast. No cars coming, round the corner...open 3 lane one way, no cars or people. I opened it up snapping through the gears heading straight towards the black cloud as bolts of lightening were striking dead ahead. That was where I need to go , then turn right to get to the campground. Oh my god i don't want to get caught in that , I thought. Then everything goes blue red, red blue. Shit, it was the cops. 85 in a 50 zone and blowing a stop sign. But I said "look at that" pointing at the cloud. " I was trying to beat that" as another bright whitish blue bolt stood in contrast to the black cloud behind it. After 5 minutes the cop came back and said "what do you want a ticket or a warning and a tongue lashing ?" I said "how about a warning and a big hug ?" Whew. And the rain just missed us. Lucky

Next night I spent with my old neighbourhood buddy, Gord, and his family, in Calgary. We hadn't seen each other in like 17 years.

I went a bit off my track the next day to stay with our friend Andrea, Judy's friend from when they were teenagers . It was nice to get off the speedy, busy Trans Canada. I had a blast riding the twisty roads NW from Vernon. In one particularly fun section, a cop came up behind me and pulled me over. I guess he had his lights and siren going chasing me for 7 kilometers. When I pulled my helmet off and pulled out my earplugs he reamed me out, with words that is. I guess technically you are not supposed to wear ear plugs. Its dangerous for hearing not to. He said my license was hereby revoked and my motorcycle was impounded at the side of the road. I was going 120 in a 70 zone. I pleaded that I had gone all the way to NFLD and was almost home, and I had a woman waiting for me. And I loved riding these twisty roads. I lied and promised not to speed any more. He said he had a call to attend to and handed back my license. Whew. The cop was probably just pissed off that it took him 7 km to catch up. If it wasn't just a 250 I guess he never would have caught up.

I decided to take the fun way again. Instead of going Kamloops to Hope, I chose the Hwy 99 Duffey Lake Road from Lilloet to Whistler. It is the best motorcycle road that I have seen on this entire trip. The rear tire looks o/k. One more twisty road. Yahoo !

Super Quarter trip to Newfoundland, xcountry part 1

This story started last summer while after I sold a little street legal GP racing bike. It was an RG250, replica grand prix racing motorcycle with lights; Suzuki 2 stroke with a power valve. It was was a reel hoot to ride but it was uncomfortable to ride and of course, it was polluting the air because of the nature of 2 strokes. I sold it after 2 weeks. Now I was in the market for a similar high performance light motorcycle. I saw the honda CBR 250 for sale in Vancouver but it had the same crotch rocket low bars. I eventually got a comfortable Ninja 500.
While giving into my addiction again, I was casually looking at bikes for sale when I saw a Honda Jade 250 advertised as coming soon in Vancouver. It actullay was not here but might some day be imported to canada as a grey market bike by Windbell motorcycle shop in Vancouver. I checked out its specs and after some long hours searching for information on this very rare bike, I found out enough to know that I wanted one of these. Same motor as the cbr 250, Light weight, high performance, high reving (16,000 rpm red line) but with a comfortable and , as the Japanese concept document says, flexible frame. They call it the Super Quarter: 250cc = one quarter of a liter and it goes like super bike when it gets over 10,000 rpm. Oh well too bad , none for sale anywhere in the big Canadian Cities or Seattle.
A few weeks later I saw one advertised in Vancouver ! I called but buddy had brought it to Windbell to sell. He was cautioning me about buying it because it was stalling, the battery kept going dead , it wouldn't go into neutral with engine running and there are no grey bike dealers on Vancouver Island. I didn't care. I wanted it. I got it.
Windbell sold it to me as is. They fixed the stalling. The battery going dead is random and its easy to push start and neutral can be found from 2nd gear. I fixed it up a bit, road it 1000km to see my daughter Karita and my grandughter Lija up in Dunster and back the 1000km. I loved riding it so much I decided to ride it to Ontario to see my sister Kathy and my mom, then to continue on to NFLD to see my sister Barb and brother Brian. I was going to fly but what a waste of fuel that would have been compared to the challenge and thrills of riding so far... a quarter the way around the world !1/2 way round trip !

Judy and I are hosts in the Willing Workers On Organic Farms (wwoof) organization. We host wwoofers, usually young travellers, to stay with us as part of our family in exchange for 5 hours of work, 5 1/2 days per week. I decided to contact all the hosts within 50 km of my route to see if I could stay with any them on my way across the country. The response was great. So many hosts replied that there is no way that I couild see them all in my planned 6 week adventure. I used Google, My Maps to plot where each host that responded lived and copied there wwoof website listing and all e-mails into the pins on the map. Otherwise I would not have been able to keep track of all the information. To aid in logistics I splurged and bought an iPhone, with telephone internet, e-mail, maps, gps and I also loaded Jade workshop manual into it.

All the time bent over the computer with bad posture agrivated my already comprimised back. A constant irritating pain developed between my shoulder blades. The arthritic hip got better by using tumeric and ginger, but the pain was bad enough in my back I thought I might have to cancel. The chiropractor didn't help but after 5 physio trreatments it seemed to get a little better. So I said to Judy "whats the difference, pain here or pain riding my bike ?" So I continued with preparations. I tried a windshield but it caused too much buffeting. I put a tank bag on and it blocked the wind enough by itself, especially after tilting it forward by placing a tupperwhere container under the back of it. I ordered a helmet muffler from England. Its a piece of neophrene that seals off the bottom of the helmet to keep out some of the wind noise . I find the wind noise more irritating than even the sore back or burning butt. I also put on a new rear tire, twice because I put it on backwards first time. Then the next day, with my duffel bag bungeed on the back, off i I
I made it to Ben and Rebecca's first day. Ben is Judy's x who lives in Hinton. the next day I made it to a wwoofing host in Pincher Creek. I was so great to be back in my old stomping grounds of the foothills sw of calgary. It was a long day and after missing the first host, I felt it was too late to turn around and visit him. He was also an organic beef farm and a friend of .the host where I was going to stay. I didn't get there in time for dinner but that was o/k because I was snacking on trail mix all the time and I was trying to lose wieght anyway. .He has a beautiful ranch in the Waterton. Biosphere Reserve which he was instrumental in creating. I left early in the morning.
I was high as a kite; leaving the foothills and into the green prairies that I fell in love with back in the late 80's. The lil Super quarter was howling beneath me at over 10,000 rpm with such enthusiasm it sometimes would tingle my spine with laughter. There were also lots of tears. Sometimes I thought I would have to pull over to dry my eyes. All the nastalgia of being back to this area of the world brought back memories of Kyle, my middle child who died last year.
I made it to another host north west of Regina, after dinner agian. The farmers in Regina are having a hard time this year due to the floods this spring and early summer. It was sad to see greenhouses full up with stunted dead and near dead bedding plants that never made it into the ground. I stayed in a funky cabin in the woods. It was comfortable enough but a rat in the cieling kept me awake till late. I don't need a lot of sleep so after doing my early morning neck, upper back , mid back and lower back exercises, I was off again.
Next stop was a wwoof farm CSA (community Supported Agriculture). Customers buy containers of vegetables that they pick up twice a week. It was really great to be invited in by such a nice family. I stayed in my tent as they had their sons friend visiting from out of town, with his mom. We had many hours of talking while we worked the next day in the garden. I stayed 2 nights.
The following night I made it to Thunder Bay to another wwoof organic beef farm. Thunder bay is economically depressed and to support the farm, like most small farms, the father had to leave for out of town work. He had just arrived home that day from 3 months away was working into the night trying to get the hay in. I briefly met the host and several wwoofers as the sun was setting. I camped beside the pasture. I was finished exercises before sunrise. I said goodbye to my host as she was finishng up milking the goats and chatting with a nieghbor. I saw her young son riding a bike uphill with 2 large buckets, morning chores, as I rode off into the fog around 6:30 am. I made the mistake of followinmg a truck int he fog down the dirt road. Once I got o pavement and the fog lifted that I realized me and the bike weere covered witha fine mist of mud that the truck had sprayed up onto me. It was a bit depressing. The poor farmers. So many of them have such difficult lives. I still had 2 days to go to get to Kathy's. After Thunder Bay the scenery started to get nice. I forgot how beautifull the ride around lake Superior is. I didn't have any host nearby that night so I talked to a muscular woman that had a commercial fire wood busssiness. She told me a good place to camp. I was near Sault Saint Marie. Pizza for dinner. I was so hungry I ate the whole thing, minus 1 peice that supplimented my breakfast. In the morning I heard a pitter of rain on the tent. I got up and covered up some ex[posed stuff on the bike., went back to bed and tried to sleep a bit more, to no avail, like usual. I was finish exercising and out of tent by about 5:30, just as the rain stopped. South of Sudbury I had to stop and walk around one of the extremely beautifull wetlands that I had seen. I phoned Kathy on my iPhone and told her I'd be there around supper. The wet land did not let me down. I saw lots of evidence of beavers and saw a pair of Sand Hill Cranes very close. I soon had to walk fast, almost a run to stay ahead of the deer flies that only managed to get 2 pieces of my flesh. Its was fun running over the mossy Canadian shield picking routes between the squishy sections. I got back to my bike and stopped in Perry Sound for and chips. I thought I would have to stop for a nap but the old adrenalin kicked in and woke me right up as I followed a car that passed me at 140km/hr. I usully rode at 120 but sometimes on the boring sections I'd set my throttle to 130 or 140 with rubber bands and lean forward into the wind, grabbing the speedo and tack, sort of like bicycle areo bars. My favorite is riding the twisty side roads at speeds around 100.
Ontario was full of cops and the speed limits, even on the 4 lane sections was only 90. I had to hit my front brake hard 4 times to avoid tickets !
I made it to Kathy's ahead of the rain. The following week I spent in Orrillia at Kathy's. We helped poor old mom Mom move into a nursing home, from her retirement home. The residence has staff trained in alazhiemers.
Lance took us out on his recent purchase that he got a super deal on : a sail boat, big enough to sleep 6, tightly. He is a natural sailor. It was really warm and humid so it was nice to go swimming in lake Coucheching every day.
I bought a piece of foam and carved it to fit on my shoulders behind my helmet to help prevent buffetting. I brought my leather riding pants into a leather shop to get a new clasp and velcroe to cinche them up tighter to fit my new leaner body.
After a loveley and sometimes emotional visit with Kathy and Mom I headed off into the humid heat to Grandvalley, the place of my ancestors homesteads. My aunt Glenna is the only one left there. I had nice lunch with her and looked at letters my father had sent to his brother from many countries that he worked in; Lesotho, the Philipines, Mexico, Guatemala, Indonesia and Columbia. He was last living there when he got hit riding his bicycle diagonally across USA on his way to visit me in 1995. The same year I was hit by a car and left with some irritating disabilities which causes me constant pain. Dad didn't survive.
Later that afternoon I rode to near Orangeville to stay with a hosts at an intentional community: Whole Earth eco village where one of our us wwoofers, Kate, is doing an inteternship. Boy they work hard, weeding 10 hours a day.But they all seem to love it.
I sleeped in my tent again , because it was too hot upstairs in the big old farm house. I had some granola in the morning in the communal kitchen. and sped of into the rising sun towards the Thousand Isalnds where my brother Bruce was spending the weekend at his girl friends cottage. I had a couple fun nights there and had some exciting rides on his Jet Ski. On Sunday I had a fun ride up to Ottawa, just ahead of the rain that only had a chance to spit on me. It poured ran shortly after arriving to my old elementary school buddy, Mike, home. His son died on 5 weeks before so we had a lot to share.
The next night I stayed with my high school friend Jim's home.
Then off to Montreal to see another x wwoffer, Christine and to buy a warmer sleeping bag. I got out a little late and hit a 30 km parking lot that they clalled a highway. I had to lane split to keep Jade's motor cool, untill the cops beeped at me and waved thier fingers at me. While riding in front of them I almost lifterd the back wheel in the air when the traffic stopped while i was distracted by cops behind me and the Montreal skyline. Pay attention Ross ! I was glad to get up into the hills northwest of Trois Rivier. I was lucky to be accepted by this wwoofing host. She has the nicest, most beautiful little farm ever. Nice neat yards, gardens and nice coulorful painted buildings with cows goats chickens and pigs. She has rented out some of the land for a couple of CSA farmers. They are somewhat of a co-operative, sharing responsibilities with the host. You will have to see pics to appreciate the beauty. I did my 4 or 5 hours of wwoofing in the gardens, and will gladly accept the opportunity to stay there again.
On the northern route that I took towards Quebec City I fiound the greatest little mexican resturaunt ever. It was on a hillside, almost a cliff looking over a backwater. Below the narrow open are dining area is a organic garden. I was mesmorized by the beauty of the young waitress and the entire artistic beauty of the reasturaunt. The meal I ordered was just as good. It was fun talking to the owner who, like myself, has travelled to Mexico many times. I took a little side trip to visit another host. His gardens were fabulous for a first time gardener. He wanted me to stay but I realley wanted to make some miles after not getting far the past few days. I followed another local biker for an hour or so. It was fun because he also liked to ride at a sporting pace and was not afraid to bend the rules when it came to time pass the lumbering autos and trucks. I found a good camp spot through a gravel pit near Quebec City. I didn't have enough water. I walked through the woods towards where I thought there was a creek. I was afraid of getting lost. The battery on my iPhone gps was dead so I broke sticks to point my way back. I found slew only. To hopefuly sterilize the slightly yellow water, I sliced up a bunch of ginger into it, gave it a good shake and when I opened the water bottle it foamed up so I figured it worked. I was still a bit afraid to drink much.
I always wanted to visit Quebec City. Now I don't like carfull cities but I spent a couple hours on the Plains of Abraham . The good ethnic resturants were not open yet so I took lunch further down the highway towards New Brunswick. The wwoof host I phoned there was just going out the door for a birthday party and did not want to host me on short notice. I rode off after having chips and a salad. The route I picked ent east through the middle of NB. It was very straight with quit boring bush. I was told it was deadly highway because of moose so I camped on logging road half a click from the highway. Soon after doing my nightly exercises and putting my head on my rolled up shirt pillow, a truck started beeping, I guess to scare the moose of the highway. I thought the sound would pass but it just kept on coming. The sound traveled so far in this flat scrub forest land. It sound like he was driving completely round my tent.
The next day while hanging out at a gas station, I asked someone what I should not miss in New Brunswick. He said the nude beach, Parlee Beach. Another pot bellied cigarette smoker started complaining about harper, how his government is letting the boat people from Somalia enter our country. He was so angry that I thought he would have a heart attack right now. Parlee beach was great ! The Atlantic is so warm. Perfect. Nice soft sandy beach for miles. It was a long weekend and the beach was full; lots of babes in tiny bikinis but it was not a nude beach. Buddy was pulling my leg but I a great time anyway and also has a shower, included with the $10 parking fee. A local guy told me I could make the 7 pm sailing to NFLD in 3 1/2 hours so I raced off through Nova Scotia passing many host farms that had pleasntly invited me to visit or stay. He was wrong. It was more like 6 hours and the best ferry for me to catch was the next day at 12:30. I phoned another host near Sydney and his family was glad to offer me a room and nice bed. Before going there I went over to the Cabot trail to a commercial wwoof host for a visit. It was large lodge with nicely manicured group camping and yurts near the ocean and forest. I swam across a river to a natural barrier between it and the warm ocean. I could see down the beach miles in both directions and no people...in the height of tourist season! I am going back there on the way back. He wants me to fix his tractor's mower.
At the host's where I was going to stay I picked a large bowl of wild blue berrys for them. Interesting place. He was an alternative looking professor of archeology. On their farm they have, goats, donkeys, dogs, 2 cats and pigs that root deep into the ground; great for preparing new garden beds. The next morning I left for the ferry. It's always fun to talk to the other bikers while waiting. Some of them laughed joyfully at my tiny bike. Many thought I am nuts. Whats really nuts is riding a bicycle across Canada. So here I am. I made a dusk and night drive through the cold moose infested highway heading north to Corner Brook. I was lucky enough to see only one moose on the pavement. The car's brake lights ahead that I was following me warning. Its still something I usually avoid: driving at night.
It has be great to see the rest of my brothers and sisters: Barb and Brian and his common in law wife. I serviced my bike yesterday and today. Later Brian and I had a nice swim in a creek full of waterfalls. For the first time today I thought I need to get going. Its a long way home.

Hoodoos

I cut and folded a thick piece of aluminum sheet and had a buddy weld it together for a bash pan on my new motorcycle. Where I was heading I figured I'd probably need it. Next I bent some metal tubes to make crash bars. I machined a fork brace to help prevent high speed wiggles. The handle bars were changed for a more relaxed position. I heated and bent a piece of lexan into a touring windshield. I filled up the old typewriter case with supplies, after mounting it on the back. I squeezed a couple tents, dehydrated food, and my sleeping into a duffle bag, and strapped it to the passenger seat. It doubles as a back rest. The tank bag was filled with some clothes and rain gear and off I rode on my Suzuki V-Strom, DL650.

Highway 99 is a always a blast. It is a windy narrow paved road that follows narrow passes through the mountains from Whistler to the dry interior. At Pavillion I turned off the pavement onto a reasonably smooth, windy dirt road. The scenery was fabulous: high altitude pastures, forests, green valleys, rail fences, little lakes. The road joined the Jesmond Road and became smoother and a bit wider. Motorcycling heaven. Wide open pasture land, sage, dry, rutless smooth dirt and gravel. There were a few corners that were like riding on marbles, though. The next day, after camping in a waterfowl preservation area, I crossed the main highway going north at Williams lake. I took the twisty paved road to Likely and was deterred from going to Barkerville because of snow. Instead I took a short cut to Quesnel along a mud hole filled, creek crossing, nearly overgrown, unused logging road. Some miners pointed me in the right direction.

The next day I picked up my son Kyle in Prince George. We camped near PG the first night, great campsite on a little lake teaming with trout that wouldn't bite. The next day I stayed at PG in a nice budget hotel because of bad thunder storms. Next stop was the Hoodoos, you know, those tall columns of rock left over after erosion ? The scenery changes quite dramatically between Williams lake and the hoodoos in Farwell Canyon. It's like going from typical forested BC to Arizona. The Chilcotin is part of a dry strip that goes past the Dog Creek area through to Lillooet, Kamloops and further south. I picked up a few cactus buds in my bare feet. It got hot. We also saw some pictographs nearby our camp at the old homestead where a few log homes are still standing.

I dropped Kyle back in PG and continued on into the beautiful Robson Valley to visit my old friends and Kyle's Mom in Dunster.
After a few days of helping out in Nancy's garden, bottling Arlene's wine, shoveling April's sheep shit, visiting, swimming, eating Glenda's great food and tasting Andy's brownies, I was ready to ride and beat the rains that were coming.

I cruised down highway 5 and turned off onto highway 24 and took some lovely , twisty side roads to 100 Mile house. I crossed the main highway and took a short cut on dirt roads and was expecting to come out at the Dog Creek road. I went past the Hanging Tree. The road branched and became smaller, branched and turned into a dry weather road through the dead pine plantations. All the way from 100 mile there are dead pines. 1000's of square kilometers of dead pines. Pine beetles are not killed because the cold winters are thing of the past. I checked out all the other road branches as the darkness fell. It was raining. It was nearly hell. All the dead trees, the mud, the rain, the thought of picking up a heavy bike out of a mud hole. I decided to ride past the hanging tree and head to a camp site that was close by, somewhere.
I saw the Hanging Tree and took a photo in the dim light. I checked my GPS and soon found the camp . There was a small group of campers who were a welcome sight. The camp is on a little lake surrounded by live spruce trees. A live oasis in a mostly dead landscape. I had a comfortable warm and dry sleep while it rained through the night. The morning was damp but not raining. I packed up and went back to the car wash in 100 Mile.

I'd had enough back roads and mud for this trip. I headed back down the main highway and cruised along down the 99, too tired to do any blasting. I got 60 miles per gallon coming down from Whistler. I am lucky I came back yesterday. It's been raining all day here today.

see photos at http://s233.photobucket.com/albums/ee38/Ross-Judy/

Goodbye India

I have uploaded a bunch of pictures. Click on the thumbs to see large.
http://s233.photobucket.com/albums/ee38/Ross-Judy/

We are now at OBT bungalow and we are leaving for Delhi this afternoon. We watched a video of a BBC production called "The Lost World of the Raj". It is not lost. We are living in it here at the OBT bungalow. This bungalow is featured in the production. Judy's servant form her time here as a child was interviewed. He is actually still here working as a dog trainer. His first job, at 12 years old was as a punka walla. A punka is a large blanket that is hung from the high ceiling and is pulled back and forth by a rope that is tied to the punka wallas foot...an old fashioned fan. It has been an amazing experience staying here, living amoungst history. Even more amazing is that this is the life Judy was born into.
I am happy to be heading home but sad to be leaving India. We are leaving just in time as it is starting to get hot and it will probably be in the high 30's or 40 in a few weeks. Yesterday we had supper at the Relish, the restaurant at the Resort Hotel Deluxe where we stayed in January. It was fun seeing all the staff there that we became attached to. The CD from Raja Hindustanis movie that we saw 11 years ago here in Mirzapur was put on. I started crying when the song "paradesi paradesi jana nahin" started playing(" foreigner, foreigner, please don't go).
Love from India,
Ross

Fatwa Against Terror

I copied this from the Hinustani Times, Lucknow, Thursday, February 21, 2008.
Ross

Zia Haq
New Delhi, February 20

DARUL ULOOM of Deoband, one of Islam's most influential schools of thought to which even Afghanistan's Taliban owe academic allegiance, will for the first time declare acts of terrorism to be against the religion, a top cleric told HT on Tuesday.
The declaration will come on February 25 at the end of a day-long anti-terrorism seminar in Deaoband, which will be attended by representatives of nearly 6000 madrasas from across the country including those from other Muslim sects such as the Barelvi school and foreign delegates.” A declaration will be issued to the effect that all acts of terrorism are patently anti-Islamic in light of the Chapter 5 of the Quran (Al-Maidah) which clearly prohibits killing of innocent people,” said cleric and vice-rector of Darul Uloom, Maulana Abdul Khaleque Madrasi.
The Islamic seminary founded in 1866 has always been in the news for its far reaching “fatwas”. The latest proclamation prepared by the seminary, which HT has access to, states “All acts of terrorism are anti-Islamic.” The declaration will include a hidayat I(advice), asking all “Muslims to stay away from terrorists and terror organizations. Asked whether suicide bombings were included in its definition of “terror acts”, he said ... “all forms of forms of violence used to kill innocent individual”.
Mohammed Mukadam, the chairman of the Association of UK Muslim Schools said: “The emerging view is that killing of innocents is not compatible with Islam and this is the basis for the declaration.”
The Darul Uloom has been in talks with Islamic scholars across the world to arrive at a consensus on issues like terrorism and whether such tools of violence are just, a seminary official said.