Declassified, from Tajikistan

 I wrote this "blog" at the request of the human rights writer that invited me to help with his mission in Tajikistan.  It was included in his report to the international criminal court.  Now that we are all safely out of the country, and the ICC has formerly opened an investigation, it seems like there's no harm in sharing this publicly.   Names have been changed.

The day started like the rest, a change in plans. Instead of heading to Karakul we would spend more time further south and attempt to drive up to the Kulma pass to see the Chinese border with our own eyes. The road from Murghab to the pass was only slightly less scenic and slightly less maintained then the rest of the Pamir hwy. In other words it was awe inspiringly beautiful, and you had to hold on to the door handles with clenched fists. For long stretches it was better to just drive off road in the desert then avoid the potholes in the road. An hour or so past Murghab there was a large road sign, indicating distances and letting us know who was responsible for the nicer pavement ahead, completed in 2000. Probably an early part of the belt and road initiative. It was the first man made object we'd seen for a while. Once we passed the last (and only) intersection the road only goes to China. There was a checkpoint and a reasonably strong barbed wire fence extending as far as you can see on either side of the checkpoint. Our driver, and all around great guy, Davlat talked to the Tajik soldiers at the checkpoint. After a while a soldier whipped out his old soapbar cell phone and called his superior. Eventually Davlat got to talk on the phone, and explained that we (Zunun, Richard and I) are among the first tourists in the country since covid, and since my round the world bike trip got cut short in Almaty I've been dreaming of biking the Pamir hwy, and if possible, crossing at the Kulma pass to the Karakorum hwy in China. Letting us see the pass would be a great way to welcome tourists back to the pamirs. He agreed, as long as a soldier rode in the car with us. Done and Done.  

Our new soldier friend was a super nice guy. 24 years old, sporty, and a had a good eye for spotting wildlife. Other than one Kyrgyz yak herder, who had special permission, there were no people on this side of the fence. As a result we saw lots of wild animals for the first time since entering the country. Ibex, Marco Polo Sheep and Marmots. We were playing the not so far fetched roles of tourists, and seeing the animals made that role much more real, since we were all genuinely excited to stop and take pictures of the animals. In the car I was pretty relaxed, showing our soldier friend pictures from my bike trip, which really was a great cover story. The more I talked about it the more I really do want to pick up from Almaty and ride to the Pamirs and cross here into the Karakorams and south to Pakistan. If the political situation will allow it is another story. The others in the car weren't as calm. Davlat was taking a pretty big risk by bringing us there. Zunun, our Uyghur translator, fixer, and photographer certainly got some justifiable chills approaching China. If we did get interrogated at some point, Richard and I had the backing of the American empire, Zunun... not so much. Richard kept leaning too hard into the dumb tourist act, it was obvious to me that he was both nervous and loving every second of this.

We got up to the border, and it really sunk in. We were 14,313ft high, surrounded by mountains much higher. It was cold, and windy, and you could clearly see the Chinese flags, and giant Chinese characters on their border station. There was a Chinese style pagoda, with what looked like a soldier in it staring at us. The Tajik side was a little less Orwellian, but still not very inviting. Another soldier came out to meet us. He was also very friendly. We were told not to take any pictures, and our passports were checked again. A raggedy dog came and laid in the gravel while we talked about semi benign stuff. We learned that since covid no truckers cross the border, they just back up the trucks on either side and transfer the shipping container from one truck to another. This border is almost exclusively used by truckers, but we got a couple stories of tourists crossing. We learned of a couple of Chinese citizens that were denied entry back into China, due to covid apparently. They attempted to cross illegally in the mountains but were spotted, and then rounded up by Tajik guards and brought to the Chinese border station, where they were quickly admitted into the country, straight to jail. While we talked about border stories, and bike touring, and other small talk (via Davlat translating) Zunun walked to the toilet and covertly snapped some of the best and only pictures of this border station. Zunun is not a big fan of the cold, or mountains, or elevation, so as we continued talking he went back in the car, where he could do what he came here to do. He was able to take more pictures, and then swap out the SD card with one of just fun tourists pics, in case they asked to see his camera. We said goodbye, and I told the border guard to remember my face, and hopefully he'll recognize me when I return, maybe in a couple years. He took off his big aviator sunglasses and told me the same thing. As we drove away we offered the border guard some candy and he took the whole bag. We headed back down to the checkpoint feeling quite accomplished. After stopping to snap some pics of a couple of dead Yaks we dropped off our soldier, with 100 somoni ($9) in his hand.  

But that wasn't enough. The Chinese had recently taken land from Tajikistan, extending their border down into the valley, taking valuable grazing land from the Tajik herders and bringing their border within spitting distance from the road from Kulma pass to Rankour. We had to see it. Davlat asked our new soldier friends about the status of the road (think poorly marked jeep path). They said it would probably be passable, so Davlat took the opening to say we would try, but we might come back if it's too wet. A cover for the possibility that we would get to see the Chinese border fence and then turn around. Getting there was quite the drive. I'm usually not all that excited by 4x4 adventures, especially the American kind that involve towing your Jeep on a trailer on the highway to a designated 4x4 trail and doing a loop and hoping you have to use your winch. This was not that kind of 4x4 adventure, and I was pretty into it. At one point sand dunes had encroached right up to the Tajik fence, and after looking for another way, we figured the only way to continue was to actually cross through an opening in the Tajik fence. I gave it a semi real chance that as soon as we did there would be sirens and angry voices on loudspeakers, maybe even Chinese voices. But we used some logic, and made the decision to continue. It was still Tajik territory, and the only way towards Rankour, which the soldiers approved us going to.

Finally we could see it, and things got real exciting. The Chinese border was triple barbed wire fences, Chinese flags every 50ft or so. Also every 100ft or so was a tall post with a pair of giant cameras, and the cameras were rotating to follow us as we drove by. The feeling of being watched was palpable. We didn't dare slow down or roll the window down. At one point we drove past a man standing outside his truck by one of the cameras, just staring at us. It was clear from the tracks in the ground we were the first vehicle to drive this way in a while. Richard and I were wearing anti-facial recognition glasses, which felt a bit like wearing a helmet for skydiving, if the parachute doesn't open the helmet isn't going to help much. We tried our best to take as many pictures as we could without being too obvious, at one point Zunun handed the fancy camera back to me since the rear windows were a bit tinted. I'm sure the pictures China got of us are way better than the ones we got of them.  

We decided to continue all the way to Rankour. We were there yesterday talking with some locals. We would take that route back to Murghab, rather that return the way we came. Good thing too, because as we continued we got some good pictures of a new Chinese base on the border, which was quite a tense moment. Finally the road veered away from the border. We stopped at a scenic spot and took pics of some yaks and mountains, we are tourists after all, and talked to a local herder. Richard couldn't contain his satisfaction, and gathered us for a big group hug, "It doesn't get any better then this". Davlat replied, "I gave it everything I could". Zunun was still quiet, but with a successful grin on his face, this could be the photo that gets him a new life in Hawaii. I felt useful, and got a nice rush from the adrenaline. We then hurried back into the car and drove straight back, on possibly the most beautiful road in the world, to the little trucker canteen in Murghab where we had become regulars. It was quite the road trip. Tomorrow we would take a well deserved day for ourselves, soaking in some hot springs and decompressing.

28 hour adventure

 Adventure: I decided to try to find piedra hot springs. I was feeling lazy and didn't start till around 1pm, also to force myself to camp out. First 6 miles were on a closed road with snowmobile tracks, then things got interesting: Nobody had stepped foot on the ~1.5mi trail to the springs since before the last few feet of snow fell, or maybe all winter, and there were no trail markers, but I attempted to follow what seemed like a trail. The elk and deer and cow tracks somewhat converged on it too. I didn't have any maps loaded, just a single point on a green screen where I thought the springs were, and i seemed to be getting closer to it. Now, in my van, after looking at my gps track i know I lost the actual trail almost immediately. Eventually my improvised path took me to another section of closed road, this time with no human tracks, just ungulates. I followed it up river along the rim of a big gulch / wide canyon until i was roughly in line with the hot springs several hundred (thousand+?) feet below. I descended a 33° pitch slope on cross country skis. It was the best way down I could see, and the elk paths also seemed to converge to make switchbacks down towards the river. It was late, I was hoping I could get my way to the bottom of the canyon before dark to camp right by the springs. I could not.  The dark came quickly, and navigating became dumb. I camped out in the deep snow on a cold north face. I ate ramen. It's so quiet in the snowy woods at night.  I woke up cold and put on my frozen boots. I left my tent and huge 0° sleeping bag where it was and bushwhacked through steep woods, eventually taking the skis off and loosely throwing them in my pack. My hands and feet were too cold to stop and properly fasten them. It took me a couple hours to make my way to the river, where i joined up with a heavily packed trail made by elk and cows.  I was hoping the springs would be easy to spot, and they were, almost exactly on my little pin on the green, featureless "map".  By the time I got to the springs the sun had made it's way over the canyon rim and was shining directly on them.  The absence of a steady stream of visitors gave the algea a chance to take over the pool.  It was warm enough that i certainty wouldn't get any colder if i got in.  I almost didn't, but at this point it seemed like i had to.  I laid my naked body into the hot slimey water and let the now strong sun help in my cooking.  My toes hurt as they warmed up to operational temperature.   It wasn't all that comfortable, but i stayed in long enough to get to that 10/10 relaxed and warm.  Cows approached the river from the other side.  A bald eagle circled overhead.  I cooked ramen again.  It wasn't easy to follow my tracks back, with all the hoof tracks obscuring my own boot prints, which often were just small scratch marks on top of a hard icy crust on top of the snow.  But i was warm. And my skis were properly attached to my pack just like the guys on Instagram that the algorithm thinks i should follow, and my pack was small and light.  I nearly lost my tracks when I saw my tent pop out from behind a tree a couple hours later.  I packed everything up into my now big and full backpack and climbed the rest of the way up to the snowed over road.  I took my skis out and rode them 8 miles, mostly downhill, back to my van.  I made it back on tired legs 28 hours after i started.

Stuck in Quarantine, Thinking About Home

Throwback, because I'm bored as hell.  Its a good story:

Four years ago, I got in my truck to go on a Home depot run, when, as I pulled out from my house, I saw a freakin alligator casually walking down the levee.  At first I was just like "damn, that's some lower 9th ward shit right there" and kept driving, but then it kinda sunk in... this is where old ladies walk their tiny annoying dogs, and little kids play football.   Also, this gator is walking away from Florida ave, where it could have come out of the Industrial canal, and deeper into the neighborhood.  It wouldn't be able to climb back into the canal until after the St. Claude Bridge in the Holy Cross.   So I parked the truck and called the one guy I know that has probably been in this situation before: Richard.  Richard is a local, who works in the pumping station on Florida ave.  For years, before he started making enemies at the sewerage and water board by demanding basic workplace protections, he used to walk the two blocks over to Jamestown (aka Lower 9th Wardermelon, aka my place) to hang out.  He was a big guy, very fit, probably mid 40s, and he spent his whole life back in the swamps fishing, hunting and as a kid just messing around and getting out of the hood.  He used to bring over fish he caught and we would cook them on the fire.  Couchsurfers were always blown away by their "authentic Louisiana experience" whenever he came over.  Anyway,  while i was waiting for Richard to walk over I push started the motorcycle/sidecar which was left at my house.  I figured it was the appropriate vehicle for this situation.   I tied a piece of frozen dumpsters chicken to a string and drove onto the levee and tried to entice the gator to turn around.  Not happening.  This gator was not interested in food right now.  Richard walked over, and he was excited,  but he's not the one to show it.  He's just calmly joking about the situation.  Then we see two hip guys in their 20s walking towards us.  There was a big film crew filming some tv show or something down the street and these guys were just taking a smoke break or something.   We were waving as they walked closer, us standing right next to the gator and pointing, but they didn't notice.  Eventually I said, "Yo, watch out for the gator" and their reaction was great.  Search YouTube for "black guys react to magic", that's pretty close. 

So the film crew guys head back after a couple minutes of good laughter and jokes, and richard and I, and some other folks, especially Tom Wilson, from my place are coming up with a plan.  Then this super stressed out production assistant rolls over in her Prius and starts bossing everyone around, let's just call her Karen.   She was a total bitch, no other way to say it.  Telling all of us, that we don't know what we're doing and she is the only one who can handle this properly.  And she has to because its near the film set.  Richard and I keep looking at eachother and smiling, thinking,  you may be these people's boss, but to us you're just some crazy white lady who has no idea what to do.  At this point some other local old timer on his way to fish in the Industrial canal pulls over his truck and is loving it.  He's totally down to help, and we had a couple ideas, but Karen told everyone to just backup.   She was calling in the professional.  So then, in comes Tuna.  Redneck crocodile Dundee type dude who was a professional animal handler for the film set.   Meaning he was in charge of the well trained actor dogs.  He wanted nothing to do with any of this.  He assured us he doesn't have the right tools, which we took to mean he doesn't know what to do.  So then Karen instructs me to get a brand new tarp out of her car,  which i did despite having plenty of old shitty tarps I offered.  Tuna covered the gator with the Tarp and then tried to pin it down.  All of us, except Karen thought this was super dumb. Like, what's the next step? Tuna did NOT want to do it.  The gator was not into the whole tarp thing.  So Tuna cautiously approached and then went in to hold its head down.

Tuna got bit.

Bit by a fucking 100lb alligator.   It was a warning bite, like a quick snap then backed off with mouth wide open to say "get off of me you idiot".  Tuna looked at the big punctures in his arm and said "fuck this shit, I'm out" and walked back towards the film set where i hope he got a ride to the hospital,  but who knows.  Karen was not sympathetic.   We looked at Karen and said something like, "ma'am, do you still want to be in charge of this situation".  She huffed and puffed and said she needed to get back to work, and we're all probably going to get ourselves killed. "Ok, ok" Richard said, in classic Richard calmness.   I'm just thinking, "free tarp!"

So then we got to work, me Richard, Tom, and this old timer.  We got a 2x4, and some rope.  We tied a loop in the rope and Richard,  the badass that he is, used the 2x4 to push the gators mouth shut.  We slipped the loop over the gators head and pulled tight.  It worked better then we could have imagined.  The gator went into a roll, which is what they do when they want to fuck shit up, but because of the rope it just rolled itself into a big knot.  So then we took a 55gal plastic barrel and just pushed the open end over the gators head and turned it upright.   So now we had a gator wrapped in rope, head down in a barrel with its tail sticking out.  So we lifted it into the old timers truck and drove it to the other levee on Florida ave, Bayou Bienvenue, by the scrap yard and pump station.  This levee only has a steel ladder to go up and over, so we had to hoist this barrel full of gator up the ladder and down the other side.  We brought it to the outflow of the pumping station into bayou bienvenue, which is where I go canoeing,  and Richard goes fishing.  Years earlier, T-mos, my good friend and original resident of Jamestown, left his cellphone there.  Richard found it, and because of the address taped on the back, brought it to my place to return it to Tom.  This is how our friendship started.

At first i tried untying the knot, but then just decided to cut the rope with a machete.   The gator was able to wriggle free, with some help, and we dumped it out into the water.  As we did we saw at least three other decent sized gators waiting to greet it.   So yeah, job finished, we shared a laugh.  The old timer went fishing,  Richard went back to work, and Tom and I went home and had a beer. 

CORONAVIRUS

I flew into Delhi and went straight to the Slidell of Delhi, Rohtak.  I spent 5 days there, which is a story on its own: Holi festival, group bicycle rides, a one eyed pug named Eli etc. etc.  

After originally thinking i might do a bit of a loop through Punjab and Rajasthan before heading to Nepal, i decided i was ready to just head straight there (about 6 days) taking the scenic route through the Indian Himalayas.  Plus India shut its border, so i thought Nepal might follow suite, and I'd rather be stuck there.  Two days of riding later, and I was being hosted by a nice family when i checked my Facebook messages and found out Nepal shut its borders.  

Fuck. So i decided to just continue up towards the Himalayas.  I was planning on doing the Annapurna Circuit in Nepal, so now I'll just find a different hike.   I scrambled to find information about hiking in India, sent out a bunch of couchsurfing requests in Haridwar and Rishikesh to people who talked about trekking in their profiles.  No luck.  I got a cheap hotel in Haridwar for two nights.  I saw a bit of this holy town on the Ganges river, but mostly just stayed in my room and for the first time since i got off the plane felt a sense of privacy and relaxation.   I got room service.

I struggled to find information online about long distance hikes.  I really wanted to get my head straight and take a nice long trip away from towns and people and questions and formalities.   I found Rupin Pass, and after getting a couple confirmations frim couch surfers that it was what i was looking for, I started riding towards the start.  I was hoping for two things when i got there: some hash to bring with me, and, more importantly,  somewhere safe I could leave my bike and panniers.   I met a friendly guy just outside of town and after talking, I asked about hash, and he said he could hook it up in a few hours.  I went off to find a place for my bike with no luck. After talking some more with the guy, I agreed to go to his house for a tea.  The route to his house was pretty crazy, and when it turned into a foot path down to a rickety bridge over the river i said i can only go to your house if you can store my bicycle.  Koy decat nay (no problem).

It was great,  nice guy, nice family,  tea, food, great spot for my bike.  Gave everyone a coin from America and a Mardi Gras mask magnet.  Got a ride on the motorcycle back to town to get some food for the hike, then after some confusion was brought back to the road where i started walking towards the trail.  No hash, not even an attempt.  He said he could hook it up when i come back from the hike. oh well, classic India.  I slept at a beautiful spot along the river, then in the morning caught a bus to the end of the road.  I got off at Nadiwar, the in between town (thinking it was the end of the line) and started walking on the road, noticing a nice looking trail on the other side of the river.  I passed someone who told me Rupin Pass is closed this time of year.  Not exactly what i wanted to hear, but i just said "I'll go until its closed then ill come back" while thinking ill probably just do it, they'll never know.  After about a half an hour the same bus pulled next to me and they told me to get in.  I didn't resist much.  I got off at the actual end of the line and took the footbridge to Dhaula, which is actually where my internet article (but not my trail map) said the hike starts.  I was told again by multiple people that rupin pass is closed, but i could hike to the last town,  Jakha, and maybe to a waterfall past it, then come back.  Definitely good vibes there.  I stopped for food, and a dude got some hash, we smoked, i asked if i could buy some to take with me, he said sure.  We hung for a while and had a good time, but then when i was actually trying to go he said i can just get more hash in the next village.   Oh well.

The hiking was absolutely beautiful and it was kinda cool sharing the trail with horses and donkeys and villagers with grass or wood or a tv tied to their backs.  I made it to several small unnamed villages that i thought were Sewa, and then i made it to Sewa, where theres a cool wooden temple and the internet tour group itinerary suggests to sleep.  I kept going down to the river, wanting to camp away from people.  The villagers were definitely not friendly here,  but not hostile and mostly polite.

I got down to the river, about ready to find a campsite,  when i ran into a group of people (locals,  everyone is locals).  One of them i had met briefly at the first town, Dhaula, and he spoke a bit of English.  A quick back and forth and then i continued on.  About 10 minutes later i was walking off the trail to have a snack when a couple of guys from that group caught up with me and told me i cant go there.  I was like... yeah... whats going on... i cant go sit on this random rock by the river to eat a snack.   No.  I cant.  And where am i going?   Jakha.  No, you cant, hindi hindi hindi, Coronavirus,  hindi hindi.  Turn back!  Im like... yo... im pretty sure im allowed to keep going.   The educated and cool english speaking guy i met already catches up and calms things down.  We sit, we talk, he says its fine, you can go, ill come with you, itll be great.  Im not really feeling like hiking with this guy, even though he's pretty cool, id rather be alone, but it seems like i could use the backup.  As we walk we pass some of the people from the angry group.  We sit and they politely argue in Hindi with Coronavirus being the most common word, and the only word i understand.   Afterwards my friend says ok, and we continue.   At this point I'm bummed.  I don't want to be somewhere im not welcome.   I figured id make the best of it, and my friend assured me they're just uneducated villagers and scared. We'll first go register with the police and then ill show you around,  itll be great, nothing to worry about, sleep at my house.   He was genuinely a nice guy, not looking for money, and it could have been fun, but after another 30 minutes or so of hiking we climbed a long steep scramble to a plateau.  As soon as i stepped up, still out of breath,  i saw a large group of people, mostly older men wearing city clothes i hadn't seen before.  Immediately i was told to stop, and questioned by a police(ish) guy.   I showed them my passport, they talked, and told me i had to go.  My friend didn't say a word, he knew it was useless.   All the reasons why i don't have Corona didn't matter, and i wasn't about to fight over it.  I took my passport and told them "youre letting fear prevail over logic" and turned around.  Im feeling pretty pissed.  I make it back to the river, and technically into a different state, and find a still functioning but very old school water mill and sleep in there.  Im really hoping to not be seen.  Turns out those old stone roofs, although beautiful, aren't so warerproof, but i slept pretty well anyway. 

The next day, as im hiking back, there is a noticeable difference in villagers attitudes.   Way less friendly,  demanding i answer questions i dont understand, or just stareing silently.  Multiple times i was held up and made to wait for some official or something to tell me i have to go back, only for me to tell them i AM going back,  except spread that conversation out over 10 minutes and add lots of mentions of Coronavirus.   Its still amazingly beautiful,  but every time I see someone im preparing for a shitty conversation.   At one point i take a different trail with the hopes of bypassing a village.  Its going up really high, which is a bonus to me.   I only saw a few people, one was a nice lady who i gave some sweets to, although i figured out later she was asking me for medicine.   Its really rare for any woman to talk to me at all, so this was nice.  She told me (without any english) the trail I'm on isn't going to take me where I'm going.  But i was close to the top so i said ill just go to the top and have a look, then turn around, which she approved of.  At the top was another small village,  so i just immediately took a pic and turned around.  But it was too late, i got a few hundred feet back down the trail and then a guy whistled and beckoned me back up.  He was speaking in hindi and making no effort to use his hands or anything.   I just said the name of the town i was heading, Dhaula, and pointed down.  I sort of asked if i could go there by continuing up this current trail and they made really vague responses.   Eventually i said ok and started walking into the village as i pointed and said Dhaula?  They nodded but then a minute later yelled at me and told me to go back... just like i was doing when they first whistled at me.  So i got back to the main trail and 20 minutes later went through the village i was trying to avoid,  people were looking at me like i was a ghost.   I said hello and waved to blank stares.  Eventually someone told me to stop and pointed to a man walking my way in the distance.  Im so annoyed.  He comes, says who are you, where are you  going, you cant be trekking now, you have to go back, corona corona corona.  i say i am going back in every way i possibly can and continue.   Not much interactions between then and Dhaula,  but it definitely put a damper on my mood.

I got back to Dhaula and the people there were once again super chill.  I learned that in the past 48 hours the number of Coronavirus cases nearly doubled to 300, and Modi declared today, for one day, everyone everywhere stay home.  No busses, no cars, not even bikes on the road.  We smoked a bunch of hash in a session that would make a travel montage video cut... old guys,  young guys, very friendly smoking nice hash.  I got legit high.  I ate some food, and I told them my plan to hike back to Mori (where my bike is) and there was some heated discussion as to whether i should cross the foot bridge and walk on the road,  or if i could take the footpath on this side of the river.  I had seen the footpath on my way here and i was really wanting to do it.  The old guy was very adamant i take the road but in the end the young guy understood what i wanted and said it was fine and walked me there himself.   The trail was beautiful and i was feeling good again.  And then maybe the craziest interaction I've ever had happened:

I rounded the first bend and a saw an old lady haulung a bundle of sticks coming up the trail.  Conveniently the trail kind of split around a boulder so i took the less trodden way so as to be courteous and also to hopefully avoid contact.   I dont think she saw me until i came around the boulder, my trail forking with hers (the main path).  She looked up at me, and let out the most terrifying, guttural, scream ive ever heard.  She had an old grizzled face and a lazy eye, and she looked like she was staring at death, or maybe someone was actively stabbing her in the back.  She wasn't saying anything, just Ahhhhh.  I just said what i could and started walking away down the trail.  She just kept screaming at me.  I thought at one point she was in trouble and needed my help maybe.  She was sort of gesturing as if she wanted food.  I was about 20 ft away at this point (past her) and i just made calming  noises and started taking my backpack off, gesturing that i have food, and fully ready to give her all my sweets.  She seemed slightly calmed down, or maybe out of breath, but still screaming,  and she just walked away...  im definitely glad it was only hash i was high on.  I continued down this trail, past a few horses and eventually there were some pretty sketchy washed out trail sections and it just seemed like i was more alone.   I hadn't seen anyone since the crazy lady (who may very well have had mental problems) because the road was the safer place to walk and there weren't any villages here.  The rest of the day was rediculous beautiful hiking and i felt pretty good.  At one point i crossed some kind of settlement next to a bridge.  I attempted to bushwack my way up and around  but ended up at sheer cliffs and had to go back through the settlement and bridge.  A guy saw me and came over and watched as i walked by.  I was ready for anything,  but we just exchanged namaste and i continued.   There was another bridge to cross the main river to the road but i kept on the beautiful and well maintained trail.  It was great,  and i really got into it.

Now, as i type this, i made it all the way deep and high into the woods, away from the river (although i still think it'll join back up) and found the first piece of flat ground ive seen since i left the river.  I hiked up a bit to see whats ahead and there is a small settlement not too far.  Im not sure if the guy saw me or not, but i went back down, where im not visible,  and set up my tent.  The dogs here aren't normally barkers or territorial,  but i think the dogs know im here because they're barking.  And hours later, after setting my shit up, and re-reading this they're STILL barking.   I'm actually kind of nervous to hike past them in the morning.  If all goes well ill make it to Natiwar tomorrow afternoon (the in between  town the bus stopped at) and then get a ride to where my bike is and sleep there.  If it doesn't go well then maybe there wlll be a p.s. at the end of this added tomorrow. 

After Dhaula the hike has been ridiculously beautiful.  Actually the entire thing has, but after the crazy lady incident ive actually felt alone in the woods.  It looks like the American west, with big pine trees, snow capped peaks in the distance,  and a lot of open area since it looks like there was a healthy forest fire recently.   The higher parts,  above Dhaula, were really different, and really epic Himalayan landscapes,  and the villages and farms and orchards were gorgeous, but the interactions with people was mostly not great, and pretty much constant.  While i was hiking i realized  i wish i WAS hiking in California or Colorado.... or at least i wish Coronavirus fever would end... because people here are  freaking me out.

Im not sure what's next after this. After i get my bike i could do a loop deeper into the Himalayas,  over the divide onto the dry side, then maybe il find something cool,  and maybe I'll go back to Rishikesh where i have some good contacts now and try to wait this out, or maybe ill just come home and do a hike in America. 

So... P.S.  After looking more at my saved satellite image i was torn between continuing up on the trail i was on, past the dogs, or turn back and look for another trail that hugs the river.   In the morning i decided to continue, but before the trail went straight into the settlement with the dogs I veered left around a ridge.  I thought i might hook back up with the trail, but the trail continued away from my destination towards another little village (I thought this might happen, but i went for it anyway).  It looked like if I could just make it to the top of the ridge there was a well defined trail back to Natiwar (where the bus stopped).  Plus, the dogs didn't hear me, but i thought going back the other way would have been even harder to explain if the dogs heard me and someone came and talked to me.  So i decided to go up the ridge.  It was super steep, with no trail, and i was really huffing and puffing,  but eventually i made it to an idyllic plateau surrounded by steep slopes and snow capped peaks in the distance. 

I felt like the hard part was over,  so i ate the rest of my (limited) food.  I thought maybe i would go down to Natiwar, get some more food and water, and then come back and camp here.  Before heading down i explored the other directions and saw the town that my trail probably went to, and saw that the trail continued to the far end of this narrow plateau and then continued in the direction of where my bike is (i think).  Maybe i could go down to town, get food, and then camp here and in the morning hike to my bike.  I started going down the plateau to the narrow ridge i saw on the satellite which looked like a well defined path, but a path never materialized.   There was naturally a gap in the trees at the peak of the ridge, but no trail.  I just started going down anyways, knowing that at some point it might just get to sheer cliff and i would have to go all the way back up and join up with the trail that goes in (hopefully)  the direction of where my bike is.  It got steeper and steeper.  At one point i almost decided to go back up, but my lack of food and water helped me decide to keep trying to find a way down.  I never made any move that i didn't feel completely confident about, but i was damn close.  Many times i was face to the wall, down climbing.   My rock climbing experience definitely gave me a boost.  Eventually the hard part gave way to just a simple steep slope, and then shortly after that a TRAIL emerged!  Up until then the route was so sketchy i was just trying to get down, and had no intention of trying to come back up and camp and all that.  But now that i know there's a trail... maybe this could be the good hiking trip i was looking for.  I already know i won't run into anyone...  i just need to get some food and get back without getting stopped.  

I took one last rest on the trail, peaceful,  in the woods, with the river rushing underneath and then got ready for... people... i crossed the first bridge over the rupin river and the first building i saw looked like i could maybe buy some food there.  I asked, but they were just demabding i answer questions in hindi,  and it looked like they only sold chips and raw eggs anyway, so i continued on with their semi-aproval.  I crossed the other bridge into the main part of town through blank stares and unmoving people.  I was making my way up the steep steps to the main road, where the bus stopped, and where i knew there was businesses, when someone whistled and beckoned me to come back down.  I was like 5 steps from the top... now he wants me to come back down like 50 steps...  I just pointed and said Mori (where i guess im going now, since returning to the woods seems unlikely).  Not enough.  They were serious.  They were from the forest department or something.  They made me sit in a corner of the small grass yard while they radioed the president or something.   I typed some stuff into Google translate and let them read it.  This involved me holding the phone with the text zoomed to the max and scrolling at a pace i thought was reasonable while they stood like 5 feet away.  They said i needed to wait here for a health screening.   So yeah, nothing i can do. They weren't hostile, just not interested in hearing me out at all.  One guy got me some food.  After an hour and a half of waiting, and starting to type out this P.S. i was told to go. Get up and go to Mori.   They will do the health check there.  Ok... even though where my bike is is actually before Mori.  I thought they were letting me walk.  Then they pointed to a car and said, your transportation.   Ok, so i thought i was being brought.  The car just had some official in it who checked my passport, and my printed e-visa, AND my drivers license.   And the  said wait here an ambulance will come and get you.  He spoke some English, so i asked him if he or someone could call my friend in Mori, the one with my bike.  He said no problem, one of them will help you, referring to the crew assembled at the forest department building, who had migrated to watch the whole situation unfold.  They did not help me.  I have been without all internet and phone service for 4 days now.  I continued typing the previous few sentences and then i tried harder to get someone to call my friend.   I scratched his number into the dirt and pointed at it, then the guys, then made a telephone with my hands.  They totally understood,  and the main guy, took out his phone and said it didn't work and pointed to another guy, who then pointed at me to sit down.   Agh.

Then the ambulance came.  Dirty and pretty much just a plain van with a swivel chair and a bed bolted down.  Bumpy ride down, then they stopped near the rickety bridge towards my friends house and my bike.  I clapped and they stopped and actually listened to me and understood my bike was there and then explained that the cellphone tower was down,  so nobody has any service.   Except some people were talking on their phones,  so yeah...  India! I got confirmation that i was being taken to Mori, not further,  and after the health check i could get my bike or whatever.   By the time we got down to the hospital (dont picture what you think a hospital looks like) it was dark.  3 hours after i got off the trail.  

The first topic of conversation was not about Coronavirus,  but the fact that i (unknowingly) entered the national park without registering yada yada yada.  But then they let me off the ambulance and i sat down with the first sane and educated person I've met in the last few days, and only the second person the whole trip i would consider fluent in English.  After asking me a few basic questions he didn't seem concerned at all about me having the virus, he was more concerned that i wasn't safe from the panicking villagers.   The guys talking about my registration problems with the national park disappeared and i was able to have a good and frank discussion about what to do.  I told him i totally understand how people who have extremely limited access to news and information,  and have no education  could hear that foreigners ate bringing a plague of death to India,  and then see me, and be scared shitless.  Turns out nearly the whole country is on lockdown, which happened in this state the day i left for the hike.   Travel is not allowed between districts,  and basically I'm trapped here.  He's worried for my safety with the anti-foreigner fears people have,  but i think he's being overly cautious.   For at least tonight i will camp out next to his house, and hook up to his wifi and catch up on the world.  I mentioned that my ideal quarantine situation was to take a bunch of food back to that beautiful plateau and just stay there.  Its a long shot, but they might actually let me do it.   Anyway i think the story is pretty  much wrapped up now.  I'm going to sleep.

Update:  I woke up the next day and was told i was being moved to a slightly larger hospital in a slightly larger town about 35km away.   I put my bike in the back of the ambulance with a few women,  one injured, who were also being brought to the hospital.  It was a crazy ride through switchbacks,  and the whole time i kinda had to cough,  but i was not gunna let that happen.  We got to the hospital and opened the back door and one of them had puked in a bucket which was not surprising at all.  In fact almost every bus i saw while i was riding in these mountains had someone puking out the window.  I immediately got brought to a hospital room, where i told the short version of my story.  They made me hold my breath as long as i could, which i did, but only after  being confused as to when i should start, so i actually held my breath twice back to back with only the second one counting.  I passed the test though.  Since then (7 days and counting) I've been staying in a unused conference room.

There has been a lot if confusion, and originally i was going to be staying in the isolation ward, but i refused.   I found out the hard way that nothing really gets done unless you actually watch someone do it.  Long story short i got the embassy to help me find a hotel in rishikesh like 5 days ago, and have been expecting to be transported there every day since then, only for more people to get involved,  causing more documents and permissions needed.  But anyway ice gotten pretty comfortable here, so i stopped trying, which means for sure they did too.  Apparently to tomorrow transportation is opening for one day, so ill probably go there tomorrow.   But people have been very nice to me here, so I'm a bit torn,  since i doubt itll be as friendly in rishikesh.  Although i do know some people there. 

Right now, i just found out there are a few commercial flight options to go home, and the chartered flight the embassy has been working on will probably also happen this week.  But right now i think my best option is to stay here.  India has relatively few cases (although not nearly enough testing,  just like the USA).  The nationwide lockdown is being strictly enforced and so far seems to he working.  Flying home means having to figure out transportation to the airport,  and potentially a layover in a foreign country, and figuring out how to get to either upstate NY or NOLA, which could be difficult if i fly to Chicago for example.   And what do i do with my bike?  And also the USA is pretty fucked right now especially NY and NOLA.  Right now I'm thinking i wait it out here and if things get better maybe go back to enjoying myself when lockdown ends April 15.  Maybe i can even go to Nepal if they're borders open as planned April 30.  If things start getting worse then ill try to get a flight home, and by then maybe things will be starting to get better in the USA...  feel free to try convince me otherwise...

Wind: The Most Important Thing

I caught a cargo/ferry boat out of Ələt towards Kuryk.  It was pretty fun,  and just like the internet predicted I met some other interesting travelers including an Israeli cyclist heading the same direction named Omar.  I'm always excited to meet other cyclists,  but I am also very aware that I'm just way faster, and slightly more hardcore then your average bike tourer.  #sorryimnotsorry.  Plus, we all have different styles when it comes to where to sleep,  and im pretty set in my ways.   So anyways,  I wasn't very confident we would be riding together for too long. 

We were pretty much the first ones through customs, and it felt great to be in a new and completely foreign place.   We rode from the port, to the town it was supposedly in, which was actually 30km away,  and were greeted with really good vibes.  We got groceries, ate some triangular fastfood, got local currency, saw some camels, and then hit the shortcut road to skip the bigger town of Aktau.   The pavement was shit, but when we made the turn we went from a mild cross wind to a nice tailwind, and things were just dandy. The huge expanses of flat sandy landscape was really cool, and we kept seeing more camels and horses.  I peddled ahead, but it wasn't a big deal because I went off to investigate a potential sleeping spot that was way further then it looked from the road, and also way bigger and definitely occupied.  So Omar caught up.  Also to be fair to Omar his rig weighs 60kg (132lb) while mine is just 42 (92), and he is super wide, my bike almost looks aero next to his.  He was also running on studded tires...  so yeah not built for speed.  I decided to go with his flow for looking for potential hosts by making friends with the locals, but in the end we ended up camping out.  Had I known (and I should have known) how hard the next day was going to be I definitely would have insisted on going further. 

The wind shifted 180° as forecasted overnight and in the morning it was coming right at our face.  Had I been alone I probably would have been peddling by 10 (sunrise is 9) but we didn't leave until noon.  We stopped right away to refill water and eat more triangles.  Then when we finally got back on the highway I started going at my pace, and quickly Omar disappeared over the horizon.   Winds were 24mph (40kmh) from the NW and I was heading due North.   It was awful.   There are absolutely no trees, no hills, no large objects at all to block the wind.  I couldn't have stopped to wait for Omar, its just too shitty to wait on the road like that.  Since the wind was over my left shoulder every time a truck passed it really threw me around and I often just veered off into the unpaved shoulder to avoid the air punch.  Its hard to go in a straight line with that kind of wind.  My speed was betweet 8-10kmh (5-6mph), and I was working hard for that.  I figured eventually there would be a roadside cafe or something where I would post up and wait,  but after about 25km and still nothing a car passed with a bicycle in it.  They pulled over and Omar got out and asked me how it was going.  "Not great".  He told me he was gunna take this ride to Shetpe, and I should maybe try hitchhiking too.  But I don't play like that.

I told him I probably wouldn't make it that far, but I sure would like to because from there the road turns to go due east, and the NW wind is supposed to continue.   

Its a big mental shift when you know you're totally solo, and in a lot of ways it was a good shift.  I continued cranking the pedals, and shaking out my hands to warm them up (oh yeah, its like 30° / -1 °c).  My hat got blown off my head twice, for the first two times of the trip (Laurine and Ambar, I know you'll understand how significant that is).  I was cursing loudly at trucks that passed too close, and generally not having a lot of fun.  Then about 35km into the shit a car passed with my friends I met on the ferry.   They stopped and I warmed my hands in the car, ate some sausage and drank some coffee and got some hugs.  Pretty girls sure do lift my spirits.  There was a town in 5km where i was going to warm up, and probably would have just slept at, but the physical and mental boost I got in that car was enough.  I didn't even stop when I passed that town.  I made it 75km to Shetpe and checked into a motel.  I tried contacting Omar, but nothing.   

It was worth it getting to Shetpe, because although the wind died down a bit, from 24 to 14mph, it stayed from the NW.  And now i am going East for 90km.  It was a great day, there were actually physical features on the landscape and tons of camels and horses, and I was cruising!   I ended up doing 140km and made it all the way to Cay-Otes.  By the evening the wind had died down, and although I was told there was a hotel in that town I kind of felt like camping because it was supposed to be too windy for my tent for the next few days and I just did the hotel thing the night before, but mostly because the town was 3km off the main road and I didn't feel like doing that twice.

It got real cold at night, low 20s or teens, not sure.  I was just barely warm enough with all my stuff, my toes were definitely cold.  I woke up with a post nasal drip.  I packed up my ice covered tent in the morning and got riding asap to warm up.  The wind had shifted 180° again and started picking up strength.   I'm heading NE, wind from SE.   At least it wasn't in my face, and not on the side with the trucks.  I made it to a roadside "establishment" about 75km away.  All day it was a struggle to keep my hands warm, and keep my face covered and I kept having to suck the boogers out of my mustache.  It was the first building of any kind I saw all day, and wasn't expecting anything at all until Ustyrt, 25km further.  It looked very closed but then I saw someone inside.  I gestured the "I'm cold and hungry" international sign language.   And he said they're closed.  I gestured again more forcefully and he let me in.  I ended up cooking my own food on my camp stove and sharing it with him and we had a good time, and he hooked me up with a room to sleep in.  It wasn't his business, he was just friends with the owner and stopped there to sleep or something, still not sure exactly.   

I was nearly asleep in my room on some colorful floor mats in my sleeping bag when i hear some commotion outside.   Shortly after this goofy trucker guy just walks into my room, which I was actually pretty happy about.  We hung out and I helped him shine some lights on his truck since his phone was dead, and he ended up giving my some weed, which was a nice surprise.  Normally when someone tries to give me something I refuse once or twice and then accept if they still insist,  but I took that shit right away.  

In the morning it was super windy and super cold, not sure temp exactly, since I didn't have any internet since Shetpe. but the old forecast said it was 20° (-6) and 25mph/41kmh wind from the SE.  I set off trying to get 109km to Beyneu, but after 25km my hands were totally frozen and I was feeling rough.  This was the town I was planning on getting to the night before, Ustyrt.  So I decided to just stop here.  The first place I checked was totally locked up, but the other (only other visible building) opened their doors and beckoned me in.  It was pretty simple, no chairs, just floor mats.  No running water, and it was basically just an extra room in some guys house, but I slept and ate there.

I woke up early knowing the wind wasn't supposed to change and got myself mentally prepared for riding straight to Beyneu.   I wrapped my handlebar and hands together into a blanket, which worked surprisingly well, but also kind of trapped me into one position.  I think I only shifted gears a couple times because it was so complicated.   There was a sign for a rest stop (don't try to compare it to an American rest stop) in 60km about 15km back.  So I rode straight  there at a steady 14kmh.  I was wearing two wool hats and a facemask, and one of my glasses lenses was iced over and and there was absolutely nothing to see, not even any camels.  My poofy jacket was flapping violently in the wind the entire day.  I got to the rest stop and found some shelter from the wind (but still outside) to eat some cookies and then just kept going.  After about 65km the road turned to go due north, even a bit NW at times and i knew i was over the hard part.  I went from pushing HARD to go 14kmh to coasting at 30kmh.  It was the hardest day of the trip by far.  Mostly due to the mentality of just having nowhere to stop, and nothing to see.  

I got to Beyneu,  got some food, saw that trucker who gave me weed, tried to get a sim card and got a hotel.  I took today off to wait for better wind, and to get some supplies.   Beyneu is the biggest town so far, and I won't be at another big one for a long long time.  While it was pretty interesting to walk through the bazaar looking for things like mittens and hot sauce I would have taken a Walmart over the cultural experience in a heartbeat.  Tomorrow I start my long line of SE travel.  The wind from the SE is supposed to lighten to 12mph tomorrow,  but that'll still probably suck a lot.  But then I should have a couple days of tail wind.  Should be a nice welcome into Uzbekistan. 

Dogs are people too

Croatia was great.  The Rocky coast and the clear blue water makes for great scenery.  It was kind of cool riding on the same road I was on 9 years ago when I was bike touring.  I met a bunch of other cyclists, and had a nice couch surfing host, but by the time I rolled through Dubrovnik I was ready to get back into the craziness.  Everyone spoke English, the roads were well paved and easy to follow, and although it wasn't busy tourist season it was still pretty touristy.  I was ready for the unknown, where people don't visit, where shit is real. 

I rode up over some big mountains into Bosnia and had a nice hammock spot with the Adriatic Sea in view for the last time.  Then I pretty much just blew through all the way to Montenegro.  I didn't have any local currency so I just didn't stop.  At the border station there was an stray dog barking, I biked by and stopped a few houndred feet further to put my passport away etc.  The dog lost its shit, but then another dog apparently took notice of the first dog barking so crazy that she came out of her spot.  She was older and wiser, and I beaconed her over, she approached very cautiously, and with a limp, but then as soon as I pet her she was in love.  She rolled over and was loving all the love.  She even let me examine her foot, which had a pretty deep cut in the pad, but nothing too bad.  The other dog was her puppy and it chilled out once I was petting it's mom.  I pulled a few ticks off and just enjoyed the company of the dogs for a while then biked off.  The road was really remote, and beautiful. 

After a while I found a roadside restaurant and had a decent meal.   When I got back on my bike it was getting close to sunset so I just rode for a bit and started looking for camping spots, which there were plenty of.  Not too long after, I passed by a dog on the road.  It didn't bark or anything.   I stopped a houndred feet past it and whistled and it ran over enthusiastically and then approached me in the most submissive and and nervous way ever.  Again, as soon as I showed it some love it was in love.  This one was pretty young and very healthy.  No ticks.  I figured it would be nice to have some company so I let it follow me to the first camping spot I found.  It was genuinely the happiest dog ever.  I didn't give it any food, but it was super grateful for a bowl of water.    I decided not to set up my tent in fear that the dog would mess it up. There weren't any mosquitos so I just slept out on a tarp.  It was a beautiful stary night and I stayed up watching Netflix.  The dog curled up in the grass a few feet away from me and was quiet the whole night, despite other dogs barking in the distance. 

I was already thinking it would be hard to leave the dog in the morning, it was really in love with me and it would definitely try to follow me...  In the morning my sleeping bag was completely covered in dew, and much of that dew had frozen.  I looked up and the dog was still there, so I dozed off again hoping that the sun would dry me off.   When I woke up again the dog was gone.  I was a little surprised, but also relieved that it had something else going on today and maybe wasn't as bonded as I thought it was.   I started hanging up my still totally wet stuff in the sun and putting my stuff away when about 10 minutes later the dog came bounding up, and he brought his girlfriend!  She had a raggedy collar with a couple feet of chain still attached to it.  Jailbird! She was more cautious than him, but I could see that she was excited.  When she came over she happily received about 30 seconds of petting before running off to do dog stuff. 

I couldn't really mess with the collar too much because the boy dog kept trying to turn it into a cuddle puddle, but I could see that the metal links on the chain were super worn down.  The girl was off sniffing stuff when I heard her bark, me and the boy dog went over to check it out and it looked like she found a ground squirrel or something in a hole.   I went back to eating spoonfuls of imitation Nutella and peanut butter for breakfast, and the boy dog checked her hole out then came and sat politely while I ate.   I gave him some peanut butter and whistled for the girl to come get some too, but she didn't come.   I went over and upon closer inspection she wasn't sniffing a hole, she had gotten her chain stuck between some rocks and she was stuck.  She looked embarrassed and she had given up.  No struggling, just sitting awkwardly with her neck pulled down by her chain.  The boy dog wouldn't leave us alone so I tossed him some cheese and I took out my knife and cut the leather collar.  Initially she was just happy to be unstuck, but after a couple minutes she just became totally estatic, running in circles, rolling around, playing with her boyfriend etc.  She probably had that chain and collar on her whole life, and I'm guessing before she broke free life was total shit.   But she was still much skinnier then the boy, and that chain kept hitting her legs and dragging and making noise, and with it finally off she was just so damn happy.   I gave them both some cheese and water and then I packed up and started feeling bad for getting these dogs so excited about life and their new best friend (me) only to abandon them.   As I walked my bike to the road the boy dog followed my every step, tail wagging the whole way, saying, "where we going!?" The girl wasn't far either.   But I had a plan, and I had a downhill for a quicker escape.    I put some peanut butter in a little jar I found and walked with the dog into the bushes where the road wasn't visible.  I gave it to him and walked away, and initially he left it and followed me, but after I held it for him to get a couple good licks he stayed to get the treat while I got back on my bike and booked it down the hill feeling a bit heartbroken.  The girl saw me and started chasing after me, and the boy saw her running and quickly started sprinting after me too.   I had gotten a decent head start, and I was going pretty fast but they followed for a while.   I was slowly leaving them behind, but I could still see them running in the distance.  Towards the bottom of the hill there was another dog.  This one was dead, at least I think so.  In the exact middle of the road still looking very cute, probably very recently hit.  I didn't stop, and the next time I looked I couldn't see the other dogs.  I doubt they ran past the dead one.   All I could do was imagine their past and their future, and all the suffering and how I was just some crazy anomoly, a tease, a heartbreaker.  They were good dogs, I hope they find some good humans.

The ups and downs of Spain

Every time I felt ready to leave Morocco,  and just book it to the ferry something amazing happened and I was so happy to be there.    Once I got to spain I felt a bit of relief,  in that everything should be a lot easier (language barriers,  cultural familiarity, drinking water, stealth camping etc.), and at the same time a bit bummed out that I'm not in such a new and exciting place anymore, and won't be for a while.    Europe basically feels like America with more techno music.   I lined up my first couch surfing host of the trip,  which was really nice.   I rode along the coast,  which at times was pretty, but mostly was pretty bad roads for biking.   I was either on a pretty major highway, or I would get off and be riding through very slow moving traffic or beach boardwalks which only went for a mile or two before I had nowhere to go but get back on the highway.  It was really nice having a host lined up,  I just rode into the cool night (the days are stupid hot) with no worries.   I got to Jose and Ornella's place and bought the first beers of the trip, and damn did they taste good.   The Moroccan mint teas were great,  but there's no substitute for a cold beer after a long ride.    Jose and Ornella were great hosts.   They were patient with my Spanish, and very welcoming.   I sleept until 11, and then we're spent the afternoon swimming at some ancient Roman cold springs and eating and drinking at a restaurant.  

 I left in the evening once it cooled down a bit and found a decent stealth camping spot.   But yeah, despite Jose and Ornella's recommendation, riding along the coast sucked. Not only are the roads bad but there is just nothing but tacky hotels and overpriced restaurants and everything else that you can expect at any other coast in the USA etc.   I made it to Malaga the next day,  and after talking with a guy at a bike shop I headed up into the mountains on a "classic" climb.   It was a tough one (5-9% for 16km),  but nothing compared to what was to come.   I had a great meal and then found a camp spot in the dark right next to a road that was closed off to cars.   There are basically no bugs at night, so I haven't been using my tent  which has been nice.  

The next two days after that were ROUGH.  My directions took me on some really bad roads, with some super steep climbing,  14% on dirt roads with short sections up to 19% (they put cement down for the really steep parts). I went through some beautiful scenery,  but mostly it was just farm land  with no shade and brutally hot sun.  I aimed for some free hot springs at night,  which were nice, but definitely not a place to camp (the hot springs were free but it was surrounded by a hotel etc). I was stuck finding another decent stealth camping spot in the dark.  I was already feeling a bit sick, like a cold, but that night it fully developed.   I couldn't sleep well because of my sore throat, and I woke up with a full sinus headache etc.  I stopped at the first town to buy cough drops.  I asked if there was also a place to buy bread,  and they said not this early,  but then went in the back and brought me out a frozen baguette for free.   Then,  an old lady in the pharmacy told me to walk her back to her house,  where she gave me a nice sausage and sweet almond loaf.   Not bad!  I only went about 50k to Granada,  and it was rough.   Bad roads, not scenic,  and super hot.  Plus these damn flies kept following me everywhere.   Most of the day I was going so slow that the flies kept up easily,  and when I went fast they were magically waiting for me at the bottom of the hill.   It also message dropping really unpleasant.  I got to Granada and drank a liter of fanta and then took a nap in the hammock while I wrote couchsurfing messages.   Despite feeling very sick I decided to go to the local rock climbing gym.  It was a great decision. For 5 euros I did some bouldering and got a hot shower,  and got recommended a good place to camp next to an outdoor bouldering spot, and it was a good thing too because I didn't get any responses from couch surfers,  and finding a spot would have been very hard.   I woke up here, expecting Jesus to meet me for some morning bouldering, but, just like most climbers,  waking up was hard and he bailed.   Probably for the best,  because I'm sick...  I decided to rest here all day.  And it's been pretty nice.  It's been a really long time since I just did absolutely nothing all day and didn't go anywhere.   In the evening when it cooled down I did some bouldering and met some locals doing the same thing,  which was sweet.   Now I'm cooking some spaghetti and feeling slightly less like staying home from school.