So, a camping in Florida.
Can it get more adventurous than that?
Certainly not.
Corona Circus is doing well, it attracts lots of people. The show is being followed on television and though its running behind on Europa, a large following grows steadily in the USA as well.
From Ecuador to the USA. From a motorbike to something very different. Geo and I each make a concession: Geo goes kickbiking with me and I am okay with starting our tour in Georgia. Back in Ecuador I spend lots of time connecting off-road routes to tracks with small town roads towards hidden gems in Carolina and on to the Appalachians.
A pity that in the beginning of the trip I focused more on cycling than on making photo’s. Making a good photo takes time: you need to get off the bicycle most of the time, you need to take quite a few to have the exact right frame setting -although often the first picture is the best-.
An individualistic country where portion sizes are for 2
I feel like I burst out of the stretchy seams of my Lycra cycle wear. Or is that mostly because people along the coast of California are so incredible aware of their appearance? Since delicious cooking is meant to be eaten by cyclists like me, I better just eat.
‘Cherish life simple pleasures’ is written on the toilet I sit on
Cycling is having áll your senses open. Waking up by first light and retiring quickly after it gets really dark. I usually take full advantage of the last fading day colors so not to light the Petzl.
One American cookie is equal to the price of a few Indian street meals.
Arizona doesn’t have many towns on the route. I am mostly surrounded by stunning natural beauty. Yet so far, one town immediately impressed me: Ajo. Where a white church reminds me of Nicaragua, or maybe just the old Spanish colonial style.
Entering the land of the Tohono O’Odham native Americans
Cycling in the USA is like being inside a kaleidoscope. It is so changeable, landscapes go from cacti-tales to magnificent Irish-alike highlands. It is, of course, spacious too. As soon as you get out of a town you are right into the nature, and it takes hours before I see another place to buy groceries.
A tiny settlement of wooden structures next to a run-down gas station where a few families are living is where we turn to buy frozen burrito’s and potatoes.
I’m now cycling in the United States. I didn’t come here to be amongst indigenous people, to experience colorful cultures or to maintain my Indian budget. I didn’t come here because I had thrown an arrow at the map of the world. The reason I decided not to continue on from India over-land to Australia are circumstances.
Cycling Cindy