The Most Powerful Prison Is Our Own Mind

16 Oct 2024 / bens game / Leave a comment

I’m sat on a warm autumn evening at the chart table of our boat. The warm glow from the red led switches providing a dim light. Listening to the cooker come on and off as I wait for dinner to heat. Tonights dinner- a beef stew Karli slow cooked today. The companion way is open and I can hear the wind howling through the shrouds of the sailboats around us. The remnant of a storm that will have kept many sailors up along the Atlantic coast the night before.

We entered this marina to escape the uncertainty of anchor. We have never had a bad experience at anchor. Karli and I have owned this boat for 4 years now. Which means for 4 years, the stresses of countless storms have kept us up at night. But we have never dragged. Yet.

When we launched our boat, it was the last job of the day. Moments later the staff in the marina finished for their Christmas holidays. We tied up the boat on the dockside and hoped we had done a good enough job. When darkness came, so did the wind. On the edge of the river Lune concealed in the safety of Glasson Dock the wind built up. It howled and screamed through the rigging of the boats still in the water. The boat heeled over the whole night, rocking aggressively with each gust. It was unsettling. The creaks of rope as they went tense. At around 3am, exhausted, I started to sleep. Then the rain came. I woke to look out of the front berth into the saloon. Water dripped down from multiple points. This was the culmination of three months of working 7am to 10pm trying to get the boat restored and ready. It was a low point. We hugged as we went to sleep.

The next morning we woke exhausted and started assessing the damage. Our beautiful butterfly hatch had delicate gutters made of glued teak. The glue had given up and offered an unhindered passage for water to the inside below. We had been told ‘All boats leak’. We set about covering the deck with a tarp over the boom so we could get it dry and fix the problem.

Every day from there had some form of lesson to learn of being a boat owner. The old paraffin stove in the corner burning all day most of the winter, keeping the saloon warm, as outside became colder. In January, the inner dock froze, creating a white ice up to the edge of the boat. This would occasionally wake us in the night, as ice tightened to the outside of the hull, and wind would rock us. The gravelly sound of ice scraping the waterline. I would get up and walk over the iced covered deck to break the sheet up with a long wooden boathook. The cold wind cutting into the waterproofs I had loosely thrown on.

The day we left Glasson Dock was a calm day at the start of May. The tidal range in the area is quite high (around 7m/23ft), and when you leave, there is no turning back. The tide sweeps you out. For our first passage, three good friends came to help and keep a watchful eye, with the promise they would only provide guidance if we did something questionable. The passage went well. But from the following morning, we were alone. We dropped our friends off on shore, and set off towards the North Channel, and Scotland. The sailing and working out tides was simple business. You look it up in a book. You read the pilot guide. You check the weather, you plan the route, and then execute.

Sleeping in a new environment however, brought stress. Each time a new sound was encountered in the night, I would get up and walk around the boat. Searching for the source, trying to glean what it meant and if something needed doing. Even tied to a swinging mooring had an initial disorientation. I would wake in the night, look out the companion way and see a different shore to when I went to sleep. Before realizing the boat had swung with the tide and all was well.

As we sailed South, every night at anchor would be beautiful, but as the wind grew stronger, the doubts would set in. Back in Glasson Dock, we prioritized buying the best anchor we possibly could, and put off fancier upgrades in place of paper charts, books and basics. We settled on a 25Kg Spade anchor.

Over the past years we have met many a boat that have dragged anchor. We have seen many drag anchor. We have had tales retold of ‘that day’. But through every storm, our anchor has held solid. We hope this trend continues, though we bet one day we will drag. Its unsettling to see stick figures running up and down the deck as a boat drifts slowly backwards, hoping to catch themselves before the boat runs aground or strikes a second or third boat. It always coincides with rain that stings the face as I take a look around.

I have also spent many nights sat in the saloon in full waterproofs waiting for the moment I dread. With an anchor alarm set, repeatedly looking at the weather models wondering when the worst will pass, or when the wind will veer giving a new chance of pain. Standing and looking out the windows, wondering which other boat is about to lose its grip.

Tonight I am sat after enjoying a home cooked meal, safely tied up in a marina, knowing I will sleep the night. It’s a relief.

Hiking The CDT – Part 1 – Glacier Park

24 Apr 202029 Apr 2020 / bens game / Leave a comment

I was looking for something to do once upon a time and pulled out a book called the ‘Worlds Greatest Adventure Treks’. In it a large series of treks around the world for those who’s minds would wander. I learned within a hour or so of reading that hiking has a season in most places, dictated by cold, heat and rain. In the time slot coming up for me was the CDT, most hikers were already on trail walking North from the Mexican border, but the book hinted that at the start of June, one or two battle hardened warriors with nothing to live for have the gall to hike South. I could be that guy!

For those unaware, the Continental Divide Trail is a trail that runs from the Mexican Border approximately 3000 miles to Canada, following the water divide of the Rockies. In many places, one side of the path drains to the Pacific, the other side to the Atlantic. It is recommended for hardened vets of the hiking world. I remember being told a comparison to the other USA long trails while on it. The Appalachian trail is like a kitten, gentle, places you can order fast food to the trail and a good many people to hike with. The Pacific Crest trail like a grown cat, fun to pet but can bite and scratch once in a while. But ‘the Divide’, it’s a raging mountain lion you’re holding by the ears’. I do wonder how hard it really is in comparison to the others, having no time on them. But my experience was the best of my life

It started a month or so before, reading up on this trail, there were things called resupply packages people would prepare months in advance, I didn’t have time to sort these. My food preparations were made in Seattle to cover me for the first 4 days mainly consisting of powdered potato and M&Ms. The maps, I was too late to order good ones. I printed off 800 miles of trail on my computer on letter sized paper that seemed to make the bulk of my hiking pack. The low print quality wasn’t great, but I knew there had to be real maps out around the national parks so I wasn’t too concerned.

I bought a two season sleeping bag with the thought I can wear extra clothes if I am cold. A pair of Merrell Moab Ventilator shoes, reputedly great for hiking but the bane of my life most the time I wore them, a titanium cup and spirit stove for cooking, and a new waterproof top. The pack all in weighed non too much. I had a spare pair of socks, a warm top, and lots of micropore tape to fix myself. I also had an adventure time hat that looked befitting for any budding angler.

I arrived in Glacier Park Ready but feeling kind of stupid. I booked into a hostel for a few days to get used to the area and get my bearings. I didn’t want to push to hard in these first days, a few months before I had a herniated disc in my back so painful I couldn’t take one step forwards without pain shooting through my butt and down my leg. I accepted coming out here was a risk and if on day one I had to abandon the trip, at least it would have been a scenic break. I met a guy called Axle, who had just ran a half marathon nearby and we decided to do a few hikes together. It was nice and chilled hiking in the overpowering pine forests. It felt high on the resin smell. After a few days I decided it was time to start. I picked up a permit and stuck my thumb out at the roadside to hitch to the trailhead. Committed, hiked in.

The first day was 20miles. Not a big target, but a good first day. I passed most of it clapping my hands and shouting ‘Hey Bear’ to ward away fear until the sun began to set. Climbing over a pass as the sun began to set I raced down thinking of making camp before nightfall. Then, it happened… what my parents told me would be the death of me weeks before, the fear I said would not happen. In a clearing, on the middle of the trail Beelzebub incarnate, a monstrous Grizzly Bear. I felt feeble and small. The canister of bear spray i bought in the town seemed pointless. I wondered how quickly it would charge through the red mist. How quickly it would tear though my skin to the bone and chuck me about. How my family would read the headline the next day, that was it over. Gone.

The bear did not charge, but after a few seconds or minutes, he turned and walked off into the forest and quiet filled the air. Just like that, most the fear I had felt vanished. I was buzzing. A grizzly bear! I jogged along silent but ecstatic. The last mile to camp passed fast, arriving at the camp there were others. I told them of the Grizzly bear encounter. ‘Your first one hey?’ came the response.

I woke the next morning in the dark, made a coffee then rushed to catch up with a hiker called Oldschool. A precise man with a love of the outdoors. He was also hiking the Divide and we agreed to hike together the next days, I was feeling relieved to have someone to hike with while in grizzly country. We hiked into St Marys and grabbed a hot drink from the hotel before heading out into the rain and thunder. Call it reckless, most hikers will stay indoors for lighting, but to hike thousands of miles in the same season, the safety margin is cut. We gained elevation, up into a whiteout into the freezing cold, and away from comfort. Early in the season snow still covers the trails and as we came up through the alpine flowers it soon became hard to navigate. On a steep hillside, the path disappeared into white hardened snow. A quick check of our general direction on the map, We put on crampons, brought out the ice axes and started across. It felt like hours and thunder rumbled overhead. I remembered reading once upon a time snow is a poor conductor of lighting and I kept telling myself this. We climbed quickly to the top of the pass and descended just as quick away from the rumbling monsters. The walk down was long but at the end of this day camp would be welcome and the sooner the better. We arrived at camp in the dark. Pitched up on Oldschools pitch (I was ahead of my permit) and slept. We agreed it would be good to have another early start. Each days rations I packed into individual ziplock bags, trying to vary the chocolate, potato and what ever treats I had for the day to keep it exciting. I liked this system of organisation. the food lived in a dry sack i would hang up the trees at night.

The next day was wet. The paths overgrown, fresh green vegetation soaking me, like walking through a river of ice. It was painful, but liberating to be out. The miles ground by with the underside of my feet aching. Each stop I would take off the shoes and socks and let them breathe. Full well knowing the depression of putting back on wet sock in ten minutes would be miserable. For lunch the small stove would come out and into the cup would go powdered potato and a few sprinkles of bacon bits for flavour. Another pass to climb, followed by a long descent, a short break then another climb, almost hypnotic, all thoughts leave and I keep walking. Towards the evening we come across a Moose, I had never really considered what to do if there was a Moose, so I stood bemused. Like most wildlife, it weighed me and Oldschool up, paused, and walked away. It seemed to move the whole forest around it as it forced with ease through the trees. We reached camp, pitched up and went to sleep.

I woke in the night to the sound of crushing and thumping, what could be making this sound? The nylon skin keeping me from the outside felt thin. I slept uneasy. I asked Oldschool in the morning if he heard it. To which he replied it is probably a bear, they sound like a drunk man stumbling about when they forage. We packed up our small camp and carried on upwards. Today there would be two passes. Walking over compacted snow we gained height in a large bowl aiming for where we knew our pass was. I was loving the alpine trees and spaces. I raced ahead and waited at the top of the pass for my friend to catch up. We knew in the next valley was a small store next to Two Medicine lake. A few hours hiking brought us to a welcoming owner who was in awe of what we were attempting, we received free breakfast wraps, as many as we could eat, and free coffee. I wasn’t expecting this but was told it’s know as trail magic. People who see what you’re attempting and want to help. We set off replenished with a final short pass to climb and from the top could almost see the hostel a few miles off. This was the end of the first leg. Glacier complete. It felt easy. Three days and the first hundred miles in. I was sore but happy, my back was holding up and I would have a beer to celebrate at the hostel. I booked in, did my laundry the next day and studied the next section of hiking so I knew how much food to buy from the small store in town.

Ramblings Of Nervous Energy

23 Apr 2020 / bens game / 3 Comments

I have been sat the past five weeks locked down in Spain unable to leave the house. I’m not unhappy about this, the opposite is true, I’m quite fortunate in fact. Things have been sedate but peaceful. The weather one expects when in Spain has been absent and instead I have had been subject to days of mist and downpour which has given me time to collect my thoughts. What thoughts you ask? Well, sit down with a cup of tea like the good chap or Lassie I know you will be and let me dispense these thoughts.

Part uno. Most people I know of are growing up and taking steady jobs, along with a mortgage and paying attention to what will happen in 40 years when they retire. This old cockle of life has told them that this is indeed the plateau life comes to. The main and only hinging of their life to which all energies should be focused. Sensible, inevitable and pointless to refute.

Part Dos. A good many of the Stars, idols or what ever we like to call them in life, or specifically with reference to my life and interests, have gone. The life span of mountaineers and adventurers is often snuffed out too soon, the people in their prime leading the way. It raises the ethics of what is this pursuit worth when balanced against life. I know when I tell people what I like to spend my time doing they don’t see a rational man in front of them but an idiot, who hasn’t weighed up their future final years or immediate years that could be. A great folly.

I was reading a conclusion to an interesting study today. One by the American Cancer Society. 127,000 Healthy people (no underlying conditions at the time of signing up) were questioned for the study over a course of over 21 years. After 48,784 of them had passed away, a connection was made between sitting average of six or more hours per day and a 19 percent increased risk of dying from any of the mentioned -cancer, coronary heart disease, stroke, diabetes, liver disease, peptic ulcer, digestive diseases, parkinsons, alzheimers,nervous disorder and musculoskeletal disorder. While the study notes this is not the cause of death, and it is wide open to interpretation, I think it does show whether you believe in god or evolution, our bodies are not designed or evolved to be desk jockeys. We are not meant for a corporate machine sitting still like a good boy monotonously processing data only stopping to eat or sleep. The risk to life increases with the hours sat. Sat at a desk hoping for a pain free retirement but failing to reach it, thus never really living their life.

I have spent a good while not working and travelling or just doing the things I enjoy. When I do work, I work hard, or as hard as I can. I don’t hold much in the way of possessions, I never have a fancy car, usually an old banger of a van, but I have experiences I wouldn’t change for the world. After the 2008 financial crisis and carpentry dried up, I spent a long while on a road bicycle cycling, it brought me joy the whole summer, I wore out bearings and components, replaced them, and wore them out again. I worked at an outdoor centre part time for a while and spent every spare minute I had hiking, running, climbing or kayaking, then after a while working again I went to Australia and spent a good deal of time on beaches and going around national parks. After a year when it was over and I came home, I had a good part of the following summer off work going to festivals and camping and just being me. The following year I tried the Royal Marines for a few weeks, and after leaving, decided a few months later to hike a trail I read about as a kid in a book called ‘The worlds greatest adventure treks’. I hiked 2400 miles of the CDT at a blistering pace and had never been more content in life. It wasn’t the aim, but it is what I did. A couple of years later a cycled roughly along the same route but climbing peaks I could only dream about as a child. I then met Karli and kept going. We drove down through Mexico, Guatemala, El Salvador, Honduras, Nicaragua, Costa Rica, Panama, onto Colombia. We hung around there a while having a blast with friends before shipping the car back to the states, Spending spring and summer in Colorado then heading off again to Colombia to cycle tour North to South. The plans have rarely gone perfect, but the freedom of adventure has not stopped. We jumped across the pond and have skipped back and forth between Britain and Europe climbing and hiking at every opportunity. This has taken ten years to cram in this fun, and only skims the surface. The point is my life hasn’t fit into a regular life standard for most people, but when my joints are worn out in another 40 years. When arthritis has set in and the cartilage has gone. When I am forced to retire like the rest and I am down to a state pension alone, I can finally sit down. I can sit and write a book about the life of retirement from age 18. I can write about 60 years of adventures if I am so lucky to get so many. I can write of the hardships, I can write of the lows, the Highs not experienced in the ‘common hours’. I can write of the beautiful people I met along the way.

I don’t want to live normally, I don’t want to be enslaved to a car payment, I don’t want your insanity, I don’t want your two weeks out of each year to make it worth it. I don’t want the lie that is sold every day. Have you ever read the book and been inspired by the man who took a steady job in an office, saved for retirement, then retired? That will not be my book when it comes to the curtain call.

Naranjo De Bulnes, such a cool peak

waking to coffee

tea on the Cornwall Coast

where on earth looks like this, taken in Colombia south of Bogota

My feet after 900miles on the CDT

in the heat of the climb

karli and henning chillin out at an anchor

Part B on the Way

Pico Uriellu

7 Jul 2019 / bens game / 3 Comments

So, Becoming bored of France and desiring more mountain in my life, we decided to pop on the highway and drove on. Spain just exploded into coastal mountains, sweeping highways bringing us in and out of coves and bays and ultimately beer that seems to taste better. Aiming vaguely for a national park called Picos De Europa we found it had a peak treasured by Spanish Mountaineers, Pico Uriellu or Naranjo de Bulnes (Orange of Bulnes).

Its sounds uninteresting but let me tell you more- The peak is 8,264ft from sea level, which is close by. To get to the peak you need to carry your climbing gear up through the 6,500ft of Spanish summer which lands you at the base of something special. It isn’t the biggest peak in the area, but with a 1739ft headwall it’s a head turner. There are no footpaths up this one.

I should say at the beach below we met a nice guy called Henning who was passionate about getting out climbing and wanted to join us, and naturally, having some spare camping gear, we were more than happy to oblige. We started the hike in the middle of the afternoon because we like to suffer and it seemed a good idea. 1000ft below basecamp Karli threw up all the food and water she had eaten on the way in and the paced slowed. It can’t have been pleasant but seeing the end was near, she carried on. Arriving in the evening outside the mountain hut we loosely pitched the tent and settled down to a terrible dinner of packet pasta and nuts. It’s up there among the least appealing meals, bland, bad tasting, the kind of food you might not feed your dog but for some reason choose to eat on your holiday. Sitting below the intimidating face was pretty cool as it turned red in the setting sun. We had reservations about coming to climb it on a weekend and the queues that might form due to its popularity, but all would be well.

The secret and ease to the climb for us was, if we went around the back and scrambled 500ft up to the South Face, it would be much shorter. Our route was called Directa de los Martinez, Named after the man who climbed the peak Solo in 1904 and consisting of 490ft of easy climbing peaking at 5.7 on the Yosemite Decimal system (US climbing grade), followed by 400ft of exposed steep scrambling to the summit. There were a couple of climbers on route already which was nice as we had no guide book, just a phone picture of a page taken in a coffee shop way down below. It’s my first time climbing trad on limestone, hence the picking of an easy route, and it didn’t disappoint. Short but so much fun. The sun came around half way up and reaching the last bolted anchor , we put the ropes in the bag and scrambled up to the top; hitting the ridge at lunchtime, the ground dropped vertically 1000ft from where we had just come, and straight down 1700 the other way. With other climbing teams on the peak, the descent using the rappel stations was slow but allowed us to take in the views a little more. Arriving back down to our packs dehydrated after not really drinking any water and with it being 2pm and again hot, we began the slow descent down to the car on a long winding path.

karli and henning chillin out at an anchor

me eyeing up the route before beginning

the mountain hut below the face

rappelling back down

views for miles

the start of the descent towards the chain anchors

sport climbing today a few miles further on

I have to admit something, after spending time in the states and central, I have started liking the America climbing grading better than the UK grading system. It just seems easier, less wording, almost digital compared to analogue. We are now doing some sports climbing in Valles Del Trubia. Thats all for now

🙂

Back to Climbing

7 Oct 20187 Oct 2018 / bens game / Leave a comment

We arrived in Suesca after a slow ride over a couple of passes from Villa de Leyva. An extra 6000ft of climbing, but relatively easy and broken up with an overnight stay beside a railway line with a curious cow for company. I had mixed feelings about Suesca this time. We have been here a week and climbed a few routes. Nerves have been getting the better of me. Though most the trad has been 5.6 (US Grade) and like walking up a staircase, the harder routes i didn’t lead (5.10+) felt real hard. I supposed due to training on a bicycle in the states instead of climbing for 6 months I am now like a heavy legged small armed tyrannosaurus , but slightly fatter. One favourite route from last time we were here used to have a large undercut hold 15 foot off the ground. Now it lacks that hold and a large rucksack sized block of sandstone sits at the bottom of the crag, which in turn as it fell, has loosened a couple more holds, slightly nerving. This day also unleashed rain as we were finishing climbing, with lightning striking the top of the crag repeatedly with supersonic booms. We had been talking about taking a shower at some point and Suesca gave us a cold one in style.

our pet cow for the night

a rather wet walk back

spot the karli way below

After letting the rope dry a day or two we went out with the aim of climbing more technical routes and work on crack climbing ability, something I really don’t do well. A local guide having a day off joined us and introduced us to a slightly overhanging crack he lead and with a fun technical crux I fell off repeatedly. Its always nice to have someone push you on a route you wouldn’t have otherwise climbed and encourage technique. My body feels pretty beat up now.

a view of the crag from the other side of the valley.

elvis the hostel dog in Suesca

Karli chilling at a top out

an enthusiastic cyclist came out his house to give us sugary treats for our trip, we enjoyed these over a couple of days

cycling up and over from Villa de Leyva

Along the way even in the first thousand mile we have been passing some brilliant national parks we would loved to have visited. But, the limitations on them put us off. With an increase in outdoor users creating more wear parks like Cocuuy have been closed almost permanently. This park used to have a one week hiking trail through beautiful paramo and alpine environments. Now it is limited to two half day hike for which you have to pay a park entry fee, have a guide and purchase insurance. This isn’t quite our style of park. The Sierra Nevada de Santa Marta rises from sea level to 17,000ft. But is virtually closed to tourists, there are a few trails for multi day hikes with a couple of local companies (including trips to the lost city Ciudad Perdida ), but the general consensus is it climbing peaks can’t be down without the help from the locals and the indigenous people who are suspicious of outsiders. They control the trails and the area has also been the point of ‘tourist taxes/kidnappings with gorilla groups. Though the problem is for the main part over, we decided to skip it with the aim of bigger mountains down the line with free access. Seeing how parks are ran in different countries does give me a real appreciation of the free park access back in the UK. I think the U.S. national park system giving back country users very cheap access is brilliant, and the free National forest system even more so. I guess in countries with a newly evolving outdoor scene are going to have a rougher start, but is good they are trying to control damage.

Over the past week my sleeping bag has been loosing feathers at quite a high rate. The little nicks and cuts I have neglected for so long showing white blossom each morning. The corners of the tent looking like a fox made it into the coop. My efforts to re-stuff the fluff back in are futile and yet- I haven’t dug through the bags for the repair tape we have hauled since we began. I think today might be the day I repair it, but then again, I could just climb instead?

Day 2,3 And 4 Of South America

25 Aug 201825 Aug 2018 / bens game / Leave a comment

Nothing quite starts a day like backtracking 4 miles down a road to resume a ride, getting a second flat tire (through our tough marathon tires we had hoped would be the end to, well, flat tires), with a thorn the size of my finger, then finding one of our spare tubes has a slow puncture or leak I just cant find because it’s so slow.

repair at the roadside

coastal living on the main 90 route to Santa Marta

barranquilla early morning, a new bridge being build beside the only bridge over the river.

repair at the roadside

Welcome to day two of the big ride. It started with a bang. Cool air for the first hour before the sun spiked through, then a few short climbs. We cycled a nice 52 miles into Barranquilla and decided to take the bypass to avoid the center of the city. The bypass was a terrifying mix of high speed traffic, honking horns, and pick up trucks cutting us off to pick up passengers from under the shade of bridges in the heat of the day. I noticed the buses didn’t use the bus lanes so as to avoid having to rejoin the traffic seconds later, which added to the congestion. As I rode I imagined all the fumes and dirty air lining my lungs and wondered, if I were cycling here permanently, how long I would last before I collapsed into a heap? Would it be before running head on into a motorcycle coming 40mph the wrong way into traffic? Or perhaps being sandwiched under a diablo bus? I am glad we will have only a few cities like this over the whole trip.

Figuring today’s flat gave us an alarmingly high frequency of days riding to flat tires, we booked into a hotel room, then spent a hour walking through a downpour trying to bolster our supply of spare tubes. To my alarm, I discovered every tube in the stores we visited had a new type of valve I had never before seen. It never dawned on me that Colombia might have a different set up to the schrader or presta valves which I am used to, they had an in between hybrid. O well, patch ups it is. Giving up the search we went and bought more sunscreen (shockingly expensive and later discovered to not be sweat resistant) followed by a restaurant stop involving a whole chicken, with potato and curious garlic dip, and a bowl of soup to start. Stuffing our faces to capacity, we discussed the days events before heading back to our room with A/C.

Day three

Today we cycled 36miles from Barranquilla to just outside Santa Marta making for a very short day on the main road by the sea. I will point out for the first two weeks we plan on taking it nice and easy like this to avoid getting over excited and damaging ourselves and the trip. The road followed the coast barely rising creating a very flat run. Its impressive just how good the roads here have been. Also Impressive is how much space cars give bicycles. Around towns though it is still a mystery. A well choreographed stunt show how so many vehicles can make it through so many gaps that appear for a split second without upsetting one another. Horns are to say hi, for taxis to try to attract the next customer, or just for a beep-a-thon and never seem to be used in anger. I felt I almost upset the natural balance when a motor cycle came flying towards me and I hammered my brakes on loose gravel, only for the weight of the trailer to keep me sliding forwards. The motorcyclist, in response hit his brakes, only to change his direction to more over the side walk and throttle off again. It’s almost good fun.

Pulling into town nice and early we booked into an 8 dollar per night hotel including A/C. In this luxury accommodation, water having a 50/50 chance of being off or on at different times of day, as well as lighting cutting out early evening gives a homely/family feel when a knock on the door tells you the power is back on. But the A/C has always worked. Its best not to think about whats under the bed sheets. There are no keys for rooms, but the owner unlocks the main door for anyone coming or going, and unlocks the room when you arrive back.

coastal living on the main 90 route to Santa Marta

barranquilla early morning, a new bridge being build beside the only bridge over the river.

watch our for squiggles on the road

me having an early afternoon nap after discovering spare time

eating potato chips

roadside/beach side ride

We went for the closest food to our accommodation which gave us both a bad feeling on account of having no way to chill food, or to wash plates but it was cheap and we didn’t care too much. We sat down in the plastic seats and ate. Karli spent most the night in the bathroom.

Day 4

Cycling 20 miles down the road at a slow pace, and having eaten no dinner or breakfast, Karli was crippled with stomach cramps, so our day is over early. Knowing that there is a pass to climb we are having the day off sat in another hotel room for $15 with a/c. this time a cleaner hotel, and a friendly owner who has let us put our bikes and trailer in his courtyard. Its nice to know the only way out is through a locked gate down a slim passage, and our bikes seem safe in his sight. We are starting to plan the ride to the most northerly point today as we know in another 50 miles the towns become very thin and supplies even thinner. At which point we will be loading up and really going for it.

Sierra Nevada Mountains in cloud early morning

Interesting things to note- picking helmets for this trip was a choice between taking both a cycling helmet and climbing helmet, or just one that can kind of do the other job too (even though they are designed for very different purposes and to take impacts in different ways). We settled on a couple of black diamond vapour helmets and while is is a climbing helmet, it has some side protection (though not a lot) and good venting which we knew we would want and is certainly better than no helmet by quite a wide margin.

NOTE-some pics a repeats, there is a cyber gremlin at work!

South America Day1

23 Aug 2018 / bens game / 1 Comment

You join me today sunburned, and at the start of what should be a pretty epic adventure. Me and Karli are back in Colombia, 36 mile from our start point after ‘Operation Leave Town’. The weather is a pleasant 90F and humidity like my foot after a 10 mile run. It was hot, and to add to the excitement, between the two of us we are hauling 150 pounds of mountaineering equipment which is destined to follow the course of the Andes mountain range all the way to the southern most tip of Argentina.

What’s that you say? That sounds unpleasant, sweaty, pointless and bound to fail? Well, yes, it is pointless, and the chance of failure is pretty good. But we are trying anyway. We are on our way to what we consider to be the start of our trip, the northern most tip of Colombia and South America.

This next years trip- South America by bicycle following the Andes and climbing as many cool peaks along the way as possible. The first part is the part I have been least looking forward to, I hate heat. But if we make it through the daily torrent of heat stroke and exhaustion the climbing rewards should keep getting better and better. It’s rather ironic that for a cycle tour of this weight we are actually travelling rather light weight, with only one spare set of t-shirt and shorts per person.

THE COUNTDOWN TO THE TRIP

For literal months now we have been trying every conceivable type of bicycle pannier setup and trailer to find what we think fits our trip best, hundreds and hundreds of dollars later, trying to find a best of all worlds for rough non existent trail as well as smooth road, We settled on a Burley Nomad we ordered the week before leaving with it arriving a couple of days before departure untested.

the flight-
We found two one-way tickets from Denver> Fort Lauderdale> Cartagena for 115 dollars a piece, plus 3 checked bags for about 35 dollars a piece. Plus two bike boxes for transport at 75 each (with more gear inside each) totaling less than 500 dollars to get 2 people, 2 bicycles, a bike trailer and 150lb of climbing and cold weather gear to a different continent. Getting to the airport at 9pm, with three hours to spare in case of problems, we found the flight was delayed by a further 3 hours, so we pulled out our camping pads and slept better than most. We arrived in Cartagena at about 1.30pm the next day. We were glad that the layover between our two flights was 5.5 hours, seeing as my visa for the States expired the following day, and missing the flight could be detrimental.

spotted the bike boxes being loaded in Fort Lauderdale

Karli inflating the camp pads

me re-fixing the derailleur

morning of the flat tire-
We spent the afternoon and evening re-assembling our bikes from the heavily battered cardboard boxes smeared in oil , quite relieved the bikes were in one piece, and grabbed a Colombian sim card for one of our phones to have navigation ability and contact with the world. Thinking we were done and ready to ride the next morn, we went to sleep nicely dehydrated thinking of just how ugly all that weight looked and questioning if this trip was even possible. When we woke on this, day one of our trip, we looked at the bikes and realized we had a flat tire before even setting off. We waited for our air bnb host to collect our key then set off into Cartagena traffic. A lot of people have asked what route we will take and to be honest, until we were sat on our bikes ready to cycle we didnt really have a way set. This is a kind of ‘wing it’ trip.

The plan was never to get too far today, but just get out of the city with a 10am departure. Cycling into the middle of the day is always unpleasant, but with roadside shacks every couple of miles carrying water was not an issue and there was good food that felt honest and less questionable than most American Dinners.

i’m not sure how she does it, but there are always oily gear prints on both Karlis legs.

new roads and no traffic

karli

karli showering after a hot afternoon in the sun

new roads and no traffic

karli

karli showering after a hot afternoon in the sun

i’m not sure how she does it, but there are always oily gear prints on both Karlis legs.

We pulled into our hostel (the first few nights along the coast we are stopping in rooms for a cooler night sleep and a cold shower each day) and stood under the trickle of water as a reward for a job well done. We sat outside playing chess, waiting for a meal to be made while finding ourselves entertained by hostel devil dogs with possibly the sharpest teeth i have had the pleasure of being bite by.

Welcome to the new edition of bensgame. Something more interesting coming very soon. Also going to fix the mobile view when i get a chance. for now, ditch the phone, go retro and view on a laptop 😉

Valle De Los Halcones

6 Dec 201728 Jan 2018 / bens game / Leave a comment

Once upon a time when I started this trip I was like a lone wolf, bounding across the meadows and mountains.. Then I met Karli, and we were two misfit wolves driving across the desert and mountains. Then Chris and Nicole came along, and we were a pack of wolves looking for bad ass climbs….

Knowing the Suesca main crag would be busy We decided to concentrate a weekend on the Valle De Los Halcones. According to the guidebook the land was private and all the bolts on the area had been cut off by the land owner due to climbers making a mess. Fortunately for us an American and another English lad, Jason and Sam, were living in Suesca and said we could park at their house right on the edge of the valley and they knew the land owners. They invited us to talk to them and after a brief few minutes of talking Chris had made it clear we would be careful and take everything out we brought in. The owner permitted us to enter the valley for 2000COP each (about 60cent each or 40p).

We grabbed our packs and headed over the rise into the valley. It felt nice to have a short walk in again. Despite going running most mornings including this one the small rise had me breathing hard. It could have been the pack of climbing gear and a 6 litre bottle of water and the 9000ft elevation, but hard work felt hard.

Entering the valley was like entering a lost world. Crazy knowing a mile away were hundreds of people climbing on top of each other. We walked around a while and found a big slab worthy of a play. All the bolts had been cut or removed so we ran a rope to a boulder further back and set up a top rope for the morning.

The start of the problem was hard. Real hard. First I tried, then Chris, then Karli, we all failed. The crimps were too small and shoes just weren’t holding. Nicole came next and some kind of witchcraft happened, she just cruised to a higher point. But was again stumped. The line was hard. Not being dismayed we all took a turn overcoming the hard part with some aid and climbed higher. The top 2/3rds of the boulder were awesome. Small crimps combined with good footholds and a couple of flake holds leaving a dyno to the top for a rounded edge.

We took it in turns going for the top. I took the chance while not on the rope to run around to the top and lean over to get these shots.

sequence of climbing to falling. quite cool I think

After a while and getting the whole sequence linked we moved further down the valley to relax while climbing up and down some vertical/slightly overhanging but easy crag. At the end of the day we were all pretty beat and cold and headed back to town for 60cent beers and soup.

With thanks to Das_Karlo, Burritocharmer and Olas_y_montanas.

Being Wild

26 Nov 201728 Jan 2018 / bens game / Leave a comment

While visiting anywhere there is always somebody trying to get money. In Suesca it was in the form of a local standing at the roadside asking for money for where we were parked, when we enquired about camping he asked for 30,000COP , about 10USD. This might seem reasonable but to prolong travelling, free is always better. We drove up the far side of the valley to a small disused quarry where the local farmer said we were welcome to stay. Once there we deployed the tarp to gather rain water and save more money, look at that majestic water gathering machine. Jealous ain’t you!?. Saved 70cent in the days water bill right there.

the edges of the tarp are strung in to ensure no potential water is lost

sunrise

morning view

This place has also given us spectacular evening lightning shows. Consistently on the other side of the valley which is reassuring as we camp on top of a vehicle with great lightning rods poking out in all directions. Its incredibly humbling each time there is a strike that looks like it will destroy any tree building or structure in the way. It puts us in our place.

Back down in the valley eating costs little. 3 dollars can buy two people a decent meal consisting of a couple bowls of soup, a plate full of rice, chicken, plantain, salad and fries, and a couple of fresh fruit drinks. add evening meals cooked ourselves for 3-4 dollar and daily living is cheap

Add to it one of my favourite outdoor stores (decathlon) is down the road in Bogata selling low cost outdoor wear and equipment for any sport and the cost of living compared to Central America seems to have halved. My reccomendation to anybody travelling who likes the outdoors is skip central and get to South America!!

Anyhow, bye for now 🙂

Central America

26 Nov 201728 Jan 2018 / bens game / Leave a comment

So….. Central America. A lot has happened since I last wrote in Honduras, we have been through Nicaragua where we hired motorcycles to zoom around Ometepe, this was very touristy but going to the far end of the island we found a small hostel among where the locals live where that was reasonable, we went kayak touring one morning and I was pee’d on by a monkey in the trees above I got too close to. Lots of wildlife, spiders, creepy crawlies. We did a few smaller hikes, up to waterfalls. A night visit to an active volcano and plenty of driving miles. We visited an old fort where gorillas were imprissoned (people, not the animals). The Nicaraguan police were corrupt as expected. I can’t blame them, i am told they earn $250dollar per month. On one day we had a policeman step out onto a carrige way to flag me down as he saw the foreign rich car approach, I drove around him and carried on. Later that day another police officer did manage to flag us down to inform us we performed an illegal manouver and would have to pay a fine. Fortunately for us he spoke no English and we played the dumb tourists for 15minutes till he waved us away. I think every overlander going through Nicaragua has had a similar experience.

Volcano in Nicaragua

I’ve heard of some officers that will play a waiting game for hours until their bluff is called asking for a senior officer to come at which point they say its no problem, carry on. I found it novel going to a big market one day where all the produce was ‘locally made by family’ but was identical through out the rest of central america and had an authentic chinese look about it. After Nicaragua came Costa Rica, the price of everything went up driving over the border. National parks charging up to 32dollars to camp the night. Bare in mind the most expensive American National Park I visited, cost about 30dollars for a week, or less if you camp in the back country. I imagine the prices are so high because mainly tourists come for one week holidays and have come too far to say no.

The river picture is a hot spring, or rather there is an expensive touristy hot spring just up from this point for about 40dollars per visit, which heats the river to a nice warm bath right below for free, complimented by the cooling rain from above. A great place to chill for a few hours. To the right is a free camp place by a lake, with me stringing out a tarp to collect rain water. Supermarkets seemed to charge a great deal for bottled clean water. Due to the cost of central, we made the decision to gun it for Colombia. Onto Panama.

We didn’t have too much time in Panama, just over a week before shipping the vehicle by container. We found some free camping and a bolted crag (cliff) local enthusiasts cleaned up. A nice couple of days falling repeatedly on routes. Just outside Panama City was a nice high camp that was cool enough to go running from in the morning.

the container was shared with a couple of overlanders to reduce cost. this is the colombia end,.

loading Karli into the container, i tried to pay the shipping agent to lock her in there, reasoning she had food and water, they didn’t buy it

me running one humid morning up a hill near Panama City. A nice cool camp high up

climbing the basalt formations in panama

flying panama to Colombia

Now we are in Colombia And the world has opened up again. Instead of paying to climb a volcano, its just a small park entrance fee. Instead of the compulsary guides, they are optional. There is free camping, decent stores, cheap food in restraunts and supermarkets. Im getting psyched. Near by there are big mountains over 5000m , snow, cool temperatures, unlimited climbing and nights of sleep where i don’t have to sweat.

This week I was particularly psyched about a decathlon store for cheap clothing. I think Karli is getting sick of the same pair of shorts I have been wearing since we started the trip. They have gone from black to faded grey.

Next blog – trad climbing- it should be more interesting from here.