On vicarious adventures

My parents, especially my mother, are among the most ardent readers of this blog. They get a vicarious thrill reading about my bike and travel adventures. The Clearwater trip was a particular high point as it involved taking the Canadian across most of Canada. My mother had taken the train across Canada at least once in her youth and from the discussions we have had, at least one time it was on the CN service, which the Canadian now follows. I don't know if she ever took the Canadian back in the CP days.  Both before and after my trip, we talked a lot about the thrill of long distance train travel.

Back in December, Alice initiated a process that will result a family reunion on Salt Spring Island next week. In the lead up, I dreamt of getting a certain number of the Quebec contingent to B.C. by train. However, what with the Puerto Rico trip and other realities, it wasn't an option for myself or Philip and his family. It was an option for my parents, especially as I alerted Mummy to a sale at Via Rail which convinced her to take the plunge even if Pappy was a shade reluctant with grumbles along the lines of "Do I *have* to be sociable on the Canadian?"

Over the last couple of weeks, I have been giving them advice on what to bring and the like. I took today off work in order to see them off on the train to Toronto as well as borrow their car for a few days.  I will be flying out to Vancouver on Friday. I will rent a car at the airport, spend the night with Margo and then meet the Parents at Pacific Central Station! As it turns out, Alice and her gang will be getting on the same train in Clearwater!

Just my parents got enjoyment about of my adventures on the Canadian so to I am getting a kick about dreaming about what they will experience. I just hope Pappy doesn't get started talking to a Hindu about Dorothy Day or something equally problematic. ;-)

Of course, if it all goes wrong, I might end up being the Designated Blame Recipient (DBR) and as luck would have it, apparently, the Canadian will be 4 hours late leaving Toronto! ;-)

On wasting away in Cheesesteak-a-Ville

The mobile version of US Airways' website didn't want to check me in as my flight connection in Philly was only about 70 minutes. It took a phone call to the airline to determine my best course of action was to go to the airport and get checked-in manually this morning. This worked but it robbed me of the chance of getting an aisle seat. Instead, I got window seats.

Ironically, my flight landed at Philadelphia about half an hour ahead of schedule and then had a very short taxi to the terminal. This early arrival and quick taxi may have been due to an in-flight medical emergency, which delayed disembarking as paramedics examined the patient and then removed him from the plane.

Once in Terminal A, I found out that my flight to Montreal was in Terminal F which involved a shuttle bus ride across the tarmac. Then I found out that my flight to Montreal has been delayed by about an hour!

I had loaded a Jimmy Buffet album onto my iPhone for this trip. The last song on it is called "Volcano" and features the line "I don't want to land in no San Juan airport". This was written a long ago (in 1979 in point of fact). This can be determined by the presence of Air Margaritaville Restaurant and Bar once past security.

Margaritaville is the name of Jimmy Buffet's most famous song and the name of a chain of restaurants he licensed. I can't help wondering if changing the lyrics of "Volcano" in live performances was part of the airport's conditions! ;-)

"So I'm wasting away in Cheesesteak-a-Ville/
but I know it's US Airways' fault."

With apologies and thanks to Jimmy Buffet.

On my current location

On board my plane out of San Juan.

On my last days in Puerto Rico

As previously mentioned, yesterday's final section was fairly short and ultimately sweet. I might have done better to include some more coastal sections, but as I would have had to go back inland, I opted to stick to to the main road of urban sprawl until route 688 which took down to the coast. I was surprised by a relative lack of beach bars and the like though perhaps I shouldn't have as one of the municipalities I went through was called "Dorado" and had that feel of wealth about it. There was a long stretch near the ocean untouched by significant development. One the inland side, iguanas had burrows in the sand. Evolution seems to have worked faster here as there were far more live than dead iguanas around and live ones seemed more readier to flee than elsewhere. Either that or the local government was faster at road kill removal! ;-)

Somewhere, I failed to make a turn that would brought me past a Bacardi museum which would have been fun, though potentially dangerous! ;-) I found the ferry terminal and thereby closed my tour around Puerto Rico. As previously mentioned, I arrived early by about two and half hours. Viejo San Juan is many things but it is not much of a place to explore with a laden touring bike on a nice Saturday. I found some lunch from a street vendor that allowed me to keep an eye on Leonardo and the bags. My Puerto Rican readers should not think that this is any form of prejudice against them, merely my standard practice in large, busy cities, especially in tourist areas. I wouldn't leave a laden bike out of sight in Old Montreal.

Anyway, I eventually made my way to my hotel in Contado. By that time, I was sufficiently hot and sweaty that all I really wanted was a shower and a toes-up.

Today was spent doing various touristy things, especially the fort system. On odd thing I noticed in the Museo de las Americas was a very inconsistent policy regarding language. Some exhibits had signs in Spanish and English, others were Spanish only. If there was a logic to it, it escaped me. As well, in at least one gallery, the Spanish signs were about twice the size as the English ones.

On the benefit of having not worn the red shirt

If I had the advantage of the insight into Puerto Rico that I have now at the beginning of this trip I would have spent two nights in Arecibo instead of the nights in Hatillo and Manati. This would have allowed me to leave a significant amount of weight behind on the trip into Karst Country as it is known. If I recall correctly, and doubtless Father will correct if I am wrong, karst rock formations are limestone upon which time and water have had time to play. Depending on the region, they can take on pretty spectacular forms. In Puerto Rico, this means sinkholes and related structures.

As my skin was at the bubble stage of sunburn, I wore my long-sleeved jersey to protect my forearms. Otherwise, it would have been the turn of the red Star Trek jersey I wore in the Mango Cycling interview.

I set off up hill along relatively gently rising farm roads before joining a slightly bigger road which had the advantage of more carefully thought out hills and a wonderfully wide paved shoulder. This brought me to the Cavernas de Rio Camuy. At the gate there was a list of vehicle fees which only got as small as motorcycles. When I rolled up, the man jokingly inspected Leonardo as if searching for stowaways. There was no charge but he handed me a numbered ticket the significance of which I wasn't altogether clear on.

The Cavernas de Rio Camuy is run by a profit-oriented company which is a pity as it could be done so much better. After buying my entry ticket, I found out that the numbered ticket was they order in which I would get on the trolley to go to the actual site. At the time I arrived, this involved an hour's restless waiting, thankfully in the shade. Had the company been more enlightened, it would have some panels explaining the geology of what we were about to see.

My turn came and I got on the trolley (two trailers of seats pulled by an airport luggage tractor). My unasked question of why don't they have a walking path was answered by the sheer depth of the sinkhole we went down surrounded by lush vegetation with mostly unseen birds crying out in the background.

 We got off and entered the damp and cool cavern. I had brought my rain jacket with me and was glad of it. The entry tunnel was relatively low, only slightly higher than me but it soon opened up into easily the largest cave I have ever been in. Moreover, it was a cave of stalactites, stalagmites, and flowstone. It also had a population of bats, crickets, spiders and crabs. It was lit by artfully located lights, though I wished I had brought my headlamp in order to inspect some the details. Our route led to another sinkhole, deeper and with much steeper walls than the first. There were tremendously long roots hanging down from the trees above. At a guess I would say at least 400 feet.

Our guide was enthusiastic, but to me he was undereducated in the subject matter. For one thing, he said cavern was about twenty million years old. My impression as a geologist's son is that such caverns are ephemeral in geologic terms, a notion reinforced by a very large rock that had fallen from the ceiling in relatively recent times. The guide said it was before his time which meant little as the cavern was only fully explored in 1958. For all we really know, there could a crushed conquistador under that rock.

A trolley ride later, I was back on Leonardo and heading of to the Radiotelescope. It clearly isn't as popular as the roads weren't as well laid out. It was cattle country. (Hatillo has a sign giving the population as thirty-eight odd thousand and thirty odd thousand "vacas"!) I came around and down a bend to see a large bull with some very large horns. The horns were thick and went up rather than sideways like a Texas longhorn. I stop to take some pictures of the nearly motionless beast. As I watched it chew its cud, I had the silly thought: "It's a good thing I didn't wear the red shirt today as I would've it to charge me!"

The road that led to the observatory was tough with steep up hills and downhills. I had to push Leonardo several times. On one such incline, my phone rang. It was a call from the place I was to spend the night in Hatillo. The timing was unfortunate as I was out of breath, tired and being barked at by dogs. Consequently, I didn't get as much information from the people as I should have leading the trouble finding the place later on.

The observatory was very impressive. One more surprising uses they have put it to is to radar image asteroids! The short film they showed us made me suspect that new uses for it will be found in the years to come.

My trip back to Route 2 led me onto quite a small road that apparently doubled as a dump for the locals. I could hear a car behind me as a big truck appeared in front of me. I decided the best course of action was to get off the road and into the concert gutter as there was barely enough space for the two of them! The truck and car sorted themselves out. As he drove past, the young man in the car gave me an appreciative thumbs up in thanks.

On finishing

Finished! Too early as well! Admittedly, I cheated slightly by taking a ferry across San Juan Harbour but given that meant I avoid a lot of traffic and industrial areas, I think I am justified! I came across a cyclist who had read about me just before I left Route 3 for Route 688. I am waiting for my hotel room to be ready in a plaza nearby.

Note:
Fidel Ramirez later made a comment which I may have accidentally deleted.  It read:
"Nice to heard that everything was ok .....the ferry you just mention is the " lancha de cataño " so famous in PR .

Hope you like[d] your ride around PR"

On a long tough day

Warning: short entry as I am physically and emotionally wiped.

The first is from having ridden a laden Leonardo up to the Cavernas de Rio Camuy and to the Arecibo Radiotelescope then ridden like mad to get to Manati before the sunset.

Then my bed for the night proved to be very hard to find which was draining as the sun set and I had to dig out my headlamp. I was doing what I really didn't want to do: ride at night in Puerto Rico, especially on a Friday when drivers are more likely to be tired and/or possibly drunk. All the while hindsight was telling me "I told you so."