This is the first of a few posts I’m going to regurgitate about cycling in Iceland. This post is focused primarily on the technical details that make or break a bike tour, posts to follow will be more about Iceland with pretty pictures, etc.

awesome road for biking in iceland

Top 10 things to consider when planning your cycling trip across southern Iceland:

  1. The weather.
  2. The weather.
  3. The weather.
  4. Your tires. Are you planning to head off the ring road at all, or continue past Höfn? (as of 2008) Then you need something that can handle gravel roads. 35mm and up, I’d recommend. If you stick to the paved part of the ring road, I’d recommend 28mm and up. (I did it in 23mm, and never felt good about my contact with the road. Averaged one flat per day.)

    The roads wear down differently in Iceland (compared to California). It looks like their asphalt mixture is higher in gravel and lower in tar. In any case, rather than potholes or seams in the road appearing, it turns into a bed a sharp rocks. Works great if your tires are much bigger than the rocks. Not so awesome if they’re about the same width. Like I said, I averaged one flat per day… some of those were tire slashings.

    little sharp rocks = road

  5. The weather.
  6. Feeding yourself. It’s challenging to find any food for parts of the ride. There are 50km stretches with no settlement whatsoever, let alone food. When you do find food it’s generally a convenience gas station store. Don’t expect to find any power bars here. But snickers, granola and trailmix can go along way! Complex carbohydrates and protein are your friend, excessive fat and grease, not so much.

    hum, grease and protein or grease and grease?

  7. The weather.
  8. Sleeping – every community, if it has a gas station, also has a campsite and a hostel. The hostels generally expect you to supply your own sleeping bag. The campsites, which are generally right next to the hostel, are very nice and usually include all the amenities (like a hot, clean shower) that the hostels have, minus the French dude who snores a whole bunch, and his French friends who snore a lot too. (nothing against the French here, I swear)
  9. Uh gee, the weather?
  10. Bike tools and parts. There is one bike shop south of Reykjavík, in Selfoss, and it carries a very limited selection of parts. So if you don’t want a broken chain to turn your tour into a different type of adventure, you need to carry a spare chain and chain tool. Same with a broken spoke. Same with a slashed tire. Etc, etc.

    bike all ready to rumble across iceland

Bam, end of top 10. Notice ‘traffic’ didn’t make the cut. Not even close. Once you get out of Reykjavík’s urban area, this is a complete non-issue. Iceland drivers drive fast, and are not very bike-savy, but they’re aren’t all that many of them to worry about!

‘Mountains’ or ‘hills’ didn’t make the cut either. There are a few steep grades (like 12%). But the highest paved pass in all of Iceland is only some 600m or so. By California status, that would be a ‘hill’. I didn’t run across any climbs taller than ~200m.

Now, let’s talk a little more about that weather thing. As a cyclist in Iceland, there are three important parts of weather you care about:

  • Wind: The wind is always blowing in Iceland. The question is, what direction? And how hard… hard enough to push you across the lane/to a stop? Or just an annoyance when you’re fiddling with the map?
  • Rain: Nearly every day in Iceland is at least partly cloudy. Any cloud may dump a short load of rain as it blows quickly by. A good day is no, or almost no rain. A average day is scattered rain. A crappy day is sheets of rain, coming down all day. You are soaked in minutes.

    I got nailed by this soak-you-to-the-bone storm about 5 min after this picture was taken.

    man versus nature

  • Temperature: Comparatively, this isn’t such a big deal. But Iceland in September does hit a very key spot on the thermometer for cycling. In my experience, if it’s above about 15C (~60F) while cycling, it’s hard not to be warm enough… your body is just generating so much heat from the energy you’re exerting. And below about 10C (~50F) it’s very hard to not be cold. The wind chill from your movement through the air just sucks your heat away. Southern Iceland in September is playing around in this no-mans land… I had morning temperatures as low as 8C, and daytime ones as high as 14C.

This is your new best friend: http://en.vedur.is That’s the best weather resource out there for Iceland. Problem is, its confidence interval is about +/- 1, on a scale of three. So, if it says good, that means ok or good. Bad means ok or bad. And a prediction of ok means nothing. And… of course, that’s the usual prediction. As one store clerk put it when I asked her how the weather was supposed to be the next day – “oh, more Iceland!”. Yup. All righty then.

I don’t want to give the impression that cycling Iceland is all pain. But compared to other places I’ve toured (California, Holland) Iceland is much more challenging on the ‘basic survival’ level. Just don’t take it lightly, and come prepared!

More fun picture posts coming. Stay tunned.

Not that exploring Reykjavík by bike is really that different than doing it by car or on foot/bus… but it is preferable to some old school transport modes:

Reykjavík viking boat

Greater Reykjavík holds only about 200k residents (~2/3 of Iceland’s total population), but the city puts on a show of more than three times that, by US standards. Commerce is concentrated in the downtown core, which, along with pretty much the rest of Iceland, is under seemingly continuous construction. It’s difficult to get an overview shot of downtown, but this is from one of the parks on one of the surrounding hills, looking west here.

Reykjavík skyline attempt

Everything in Iceland is extremely clean, functional, precise, well-maintained, quality, clear, ridiculously safe (even the police, of which you will not see any, do not carry guns) – if you’re OCD, you will find peace here. This is all by US standards. In one week of wandering I have yet to come across a dirty bathroom, a door that doesn’t quite fit, a resentful cashier, or even moldy bread. And I’ve been staying in the cheapest places in the country – camping, hostels and guesthouses. As far as I can tell, there is no (like, zero) pavement in Iceland that is as bad as San Francisco’s average street. And I’ve ridden over some 500 miles of it – and I’m not exaggerating. That ‘higher standard of living’ thing – it really shows.

One of the dominating features of Reykjavík’s skyline is this huge church, the Hallgrímskirkja. Which, of course, was under (re)construction when I was there.

Hallgrímskirkja

Hallgrímskirkja inside

Appearently that statue out in front was a gift from ‘The People of the USA’ to those of Iceland in 1930, in celebration of the 1000 year anniversary of the world’s oldest parliamentary democracy. Go us! Kinda like the Statue of Liberty, just more, well, how to put this nicely… economical.

Speaking of Americans, aside from those on my flight in from San Francisco via Minneapolis, I neither met nor overheard any American accents during my two days in Reykjavík. The closest I found was Montreal. Which, as anyone from the Heartland will tell you, is a long, long way from American.

That’s not to say you can’t get by with English. You are 100% fully functional with English here – if you manage to find an Icelander that isn’t fluent in English, then they’re not actually an Icelander… they’re a French tourist or something.

Reykjavík’s downtown has European-style narrow streets, with a streetwall of 3-5 stories. Aside from the expressways, roads and streets do not have shoulders – rather a sharp curb to mark the end of the street and the beginning of the not-street. Very pedestrian friendly, if not so much for bikes. All the crosswalks are raised to the level of the ’sidewalk’ (which, outside the downtown, is generally a completely separated paved path, more like the American idea of a ‘multi-use path’ – bikes are legal). This isn’t a Reykjavík thing though – it’s an Iceland thing. You’ll find this even in little communities of a few hundred people hundreds of km from anything bigger – the crosswalks are raised and made of brick. What, building for people not cars? Silly hippies.

Reykjavík street

another Reykjavík street

And it’s true – most everything in Reykjavík (and Iceland in general) is expensive. I paid 900 Krona for a beer with dinner in Reykjavík – about 10 USD. In general, expect to pay about twice as much as in the US. The big exception: budget sleeping. Just like seemingly every single community over zero residents, Reykjavík has a campsite (in town) and a hostel. The campsite will run you under 10 USD, and a bed in the hostel (bring your own sleeping bag!) will run you 15-20 USD. I stayed in the campsite:

Reykjavík campsite

Finally, why on two wheels? Well, two reasons for that. First, Reykjavík is relatively auto-oriented compared to its European counterparts. There are very functional and efficient expressways that divide the downtown from its waterfront and the parks that stretch along it. Parking is only regulated in the central downtown core. Bicycles are a new thing in Reykjavík… but those ‘multi-use’ paths are being built everywhere across the city. There is no rail system in Reykjavík (or Iceland at all, for that matter). The bus system is much stronger than those you’ll find in the states, but still isn’t enough to make transit preferable. So, this all adds up to – unless you choose to rent a vehicle, exploring Reykjavík by bike is a smoother ride than by foot/bus.

Second reason to go on bike… after exploring Reykjavík, you can go on tour across the island!

leaving Reykjavík for bike tour of iceland

Bam!

Ford SVT Mustang Cobra 2004

Specs:

  • 390 ft-lbs @ 3500 rpm
  • 390 hp @ 6000 rpm
  • 0-60 in 4.5 sec
  • one of 392

Ford SVT Mustang Cobra 2004 Shifter

Yee haa!

I bailed from Mexico City back to SFO, and down to Palo Alto in 24 hours. I tried to save a love that was apparently already lost. I don’t regret bailing on Mexico, I don’t regret leaving to go in the first place. I do wish the cards had fallen differently. At least life ain’t boring.

I was expecting some culture shock upon getting back to the States, but I didn’t have have to wait that long. The International Terminal at the Mexico City airport has got to be the richest place in Mexico. Patron everywhere, diamond jewelery, beer on tap… wow. I’ve been searching Mexico for three weeks trying to find beer on tap.

To get back to SFO, I first had a Méxicana puddle jumper to Puerto Vallarta. My ironic in flight magazine:

sf mag

I guess God’s got a sense of humor.

I didn’t leave the airport in Puerto Vallarta. I had to do a bunch of paperwork because I didn’t have a tourist card. If you go to Puerto Vallarta for vacation, I’d really recommend heading a few hours north or south from town. Based on the airport at least, Puerto Vallarta didn’t feel like the ‘Querida México’ I had just spent three weeks wandering across. It’s more like a (bad) extension of the OC. The airport was overran with spoiled children, white women with too many face lifts, trust fund babies, and a scattering of general d-bags… like this one…

d-bag

Doesn’t everyone wear their sunglasses inside?

I took Alaska Air back to beautiful cloudless San Francisco… no complaints. Every time I go travel, I find myself coming to the same conclusion: the Bay Area rocks. A beautiful place with jobs galore, tons to do, friendly people. It’s good to be home.

Me: “¿A donde va este camión?”

Dude: “México.”

Me: uhhhhh….. that’s funny, I thought I made it to Mexico a few weeks ago.

Yeah, it’s definitely confusing at first. In Mexico, Mexico City is usually referred to as just “México”. I was ready for “La Cuidad” or “D. F.”, but noooooo…. Contextual speech processing is difficult when you you’re picking up maybe a third of what’s going on around you.

Anyway, Mexico City is the second largest aggregation of brainy bipeds to happen, well, in the history of our planet. And given that intelligent life looks like a pretty rare occurrence in this whole ‘universe’ thing, Mexico City may be the second largest, most complex self-sustaining (on the timescale of years) physically localized reaction/interaction/resonance of energy/matter to have occurred ever, and perhaps ever will. And that would, in my opinion, make it a ‘big deal’.

The bus from Acapulco to Mexico City passes through some of Mexico’s most beautiful countryside. The toll highway is completely spotless. It’s landscaped for hundreds of miles, there are tunnels galore, and perfect pavement. You won’t find a road this nice in California. I continue to be amazed at how unbalanced Mexico is… why the F is this highway perfect when just yesterday in downtown Acapulco I was walking by people (literally) decaying on the street? Arg. Anyway, it’s hard to get good scenery pictures with an iPhone, but the countryside is so beautiful that I did get one to come out. This is a random hill…

some random hill

The highway also went by the tallest mountain I’ve seen in my life thus far, Popocatépetl. It’s hard to see in this picture, but Popocatépetl is there in the background, sitting tall at 5,452m (17,887 ft):

Popocatépetl

¡Y México (D.F.)! Believe it or not, I only got one picture in Mexico City. This is the National Palace from the Zócalo, at night.

National Palace

No pictures, but the Mexico City metro is pretty awesome. It doesn’t compare to NYC’s though. It’s pretty much like any other metro in the US of A, except one distinction. There’s nobody asking for change. No beggars. Instead of beggars, the ‘bums’ walk up and down the cars trying to sell stuff. Gum, cd’s, tamales… I wonder if that’s because people won’t give change away, or if it’s because people are too embarrassed to beg, or what? Well, for whatever reason, if you go up the Pacific coast to one of the richest cities in the world you’ll find some 5-10 thousand people asking you for change. Say what? Something doesn’t match up here.

The main thing that struck me about Mexico City… I was expecting more of a New York experience. Mexico City is really nothing like New York. There’s many more people in Mexico City, but it doesn’t achieve the densities you find in Manhattan. The streets are definitely paved and functional, and there are occasional skyscrapers, but nothing like the land of 50+ stories you find in Midtown. Apparently Mexico City’s got money now, but that’s a relatively new occurrence, and I guess time’s still needed for the infrastructure to catch up.

A bunch of bus!

Manzanillo is down on the pacific coast a little south of Guadalajara. The trip from Guadalajara down to Manzanillo is mostly surrounded by fields of blue agave, aka Tequila in plant form.

Bule Agave

It actually did rain for a few seconds along the way too – that’s one day with rain per three weeks. Not bad.

Manzanillo is now the busiest port in Mexico, passing up Veracruz a few years ago. Even so – the port looks like a little toy compared to Oakland’s monstrous shipyard. 4 big cranes in Manzanillo… maybe 20 in Oakland? Manzanillo is centered around it’s seaside zócalo with a big metal swordfish.

Manzanillo Swordfish

Mazanillo Bay

Manzanillo didn’t feel very gringo-friendly, I think it’s because it’s really an industrial port city at heart – and proud of it. I took off for Acapulco the next morning. 12 more hours of bus down the side of the big beautiful pacific to Acapulco. The highway was slow and windy, lots of military checkpoints, small villages lacking basic infrastructure, and… miles and miles of stunning, deserted, secluded beaches.

Deserted Beach

And Acapulco! The first thing you notice about Acapulco is the taxis. The whole city is literally covered with little Volkswagen Bug taxis.

Taxi Bug

Acapulco’s central zócalo….

Acapluco Zocalo

The bay of Acapulco is beautiful, even if it smells bad. The mountains nestle right down to the water – a truly beautiful city (from far away).

Acapluco Bay

Acapulco from up close… being blunt, Acapulco is the filthiest, most polluted, most depressing, most crime ridden place I’ve ever experienced in my life. I have a completely new perspective on West Oakland. You think you’re hardcore? In downtown Acapulco, the bums have are literally rotting away on the street. The air is thick with diesel smog. The water is brown. Sewage. Insects. The very first guy I talked to, a taxi driver in the bus terminal, was selling cocaine. Everyone up here in the Bay Area, everyone from the prostitutes in the Tenderloin through the crackheads and gangbangers up and down Oakland’s International Boulevard – we’ve still got our basic needs covered at a level that the general population in Acapulco can’t assume. We have clean water. We have clear air. We have a functional sewage system. Our bums survive. We have welfare. Social Security. I don’t want to say we’re pampered, because that implies that we’re soft, and have something to be ashamed of because we’ve managed to get our basic needs under control. But we do need to realize and remember that even though there is significant variance in the level of privilege we’re born into in the first world, from the perspective of the other 4 billion, we’re really all one and the same. There’s a lot wrong with our society in the States, there’s a lot to work on and a lot to change, but it’s essential to remember how much we’ve done that’s right. There’s a level of pride in the States that’s warranted by our successful creation of community… but yet for some reason doesn’t exist. Keep working to improve, but allow ourselves to recognize and celebrate good we’ve created! </rant>

It’s been a little while since the last entry, sorry! Time to play catch up again.

Guadalajara is the second biggest city in México with about 4 million warm (well, at least living) bodies, coming in at about 70th worldwide. It may not be the biggest city in México, but it’s often referred to as the most ‘Mexican’ city. Tequila and Mariachi bands come from Guadalajara. That, and the population is more on the indigenous side of the spectrum than Mexico City.

The bus ride from Mázatlan to Guadalajara is a smooth 8 hour trip. It’s mostly one big climb up into the mountains. The countryside the toll highways cut through is for the most part empty of people. The small rural villages that do pop up are still working on basic infrastructure stuff like ’solid walls’ and ‘a roof not made of palm fronds’. Best I could tell, there was electricity in every village I saw, but not in every neighborhood or street (’street’ being a relative term kinda like ‘path’).

Anyway, the cities (like Guadalajara) do for the most part have modern luxuries like pavement. However, as you can see in this picture of a suburb of Guadalajara…

Guadalajar Suburb

Those baize and black cylindrical looking things that you can see on every roof – those are water filtration systems. This is your loud warning – don’t drink the tap water. If the locals aren’t drinking it, you shouldn’t either. (I had to test this anyway, and yeah, it did a number on my internal flora and fauna. Thank God my guardian angle hooked me up with some antibiotics before I left San Francisco.)

I stayed at the HI in the Centro Histórico in Guadalajara. A great hostel for a those traveling alone – a very welcoming group of people, the hostel was organizing activities for guests several times a week. This is the HI crew out for a few drinks at an outdoor jazz club:

HI crew, Guadalajara

The Centro Histórico (or all of Guadalaraja for that matter, or even this whole side of México) is centered around the Guadalajara Cathedral. Construction on the Cathedral started in 1561, which would be about three generations before the Mayflower landed up near Boston.

Guadalajara Cathedral

It’s totally not kosher to take a picture inside the Cathedral, but if there’s one good thing about using an iPhone, it’s that you can discretely break the rules…

Guadalajara Cathedral

BTW, if you’ve never been in a real cathedral, it’s worth your time. This was my first experience, and I was expecting it to essentially be a very big church. That’s like comparing a 152 with an A380. I just wasn’t prepared. The effect of the detail on the stone, the high ceilings, the organ filling every last corner and crack with full, powerful sound – it’s stunning.

Around the Cathedral are four Euro-style plazas, called ‘Zócalos’ in México. They’re open air and everyone is just hanging out. There was free wifi for my iPhone, but I didn’t see anyone busting out a full laptop. I did run across some sort of military flag ceremony though.

Guadalajara Flag Ceremony

Zócalo Guadalaraja

Transit geeks out there will be happy to know Guadalajara has a small but functional metro, similar in size to San Francisco’s.

Metro Guadalaraja

I didn’t get a chance to ride the metro, but I did take the local bus across town to and from the Nueva Central Caminonera and el Centro. That went straight through the neighborhoods. I unfortunately didn’t get any pictures worth posting… but the feel of the regular neighborhoods of the city was unlike any city in the US or Canada. The streets are very narrow, the sidewalks are covered with people, and the traffic drives extremely fast. Stop signs are, seriously, yield signs. Red lights – nobody coming? Just like a pedestrian on market street – the bus slowly inches out and then bamn! hit the gas and cut across the intersection. All righty then.

The commerce is organized differently than in the States. If the US has generally been moving toward the ‘one store has everything possible’ model, in Guadalajara they use the ‘this neighborhood only carries this particular good’ model. So if you want anything to do with fabric, you go to the fabric neighborhood. Every store there will have fabric and threads galore. If you want tires or rims, go to the tire neighborhood. The hostel I stayed at in the Centro Histórico was in the money changing neighborhood.

One of the good things about traveling around continually lost is that you occasionally blindly run into something awesome. That happened in Mazatlán.

Día de la Revolución celebrates the start of the Mexican ‘Revolution’ of 1910. Of course, the guys who won decided it was a ‘revolution’ not a ‘civil f-ing war’… all rightly then. Approximately 1 of every 15 Mexicans were killed in the 7 years of war. But stats and fancy numbers always lie anyway right? So let’s celebrate! Everyone and their mother was down on Mazatlán’s malecón. The parade went several kilometers from downtown toward the tourist district (Zona Dorada) and lasted all afternoon.

Mazatlán Parade

They do this cool thing with the military-style bands… the drummers are all women and the horns are all men. No wussy flautists needed here!

Mazatlán Parade

Mazatlán itself is a very admirable city, significantly larger than La Paz. I only ended up only spending one day here, but in that one day I did manage to get totally fried on the beach…. this picture being the bad part of a good beach.

Mazatlán Beach

There’s all kind of resorts going up in the district between downtown and the Zona Dorada (gringoland). Construction in México is different than in the States….

Mazatlán Construction

If those look like big sticks holding up the molds for the cement forms, that’s cause, yes, those are big sticks. If it looks like those guys are working some 5 stories up without any safety equipment, that’s cause they are. And if it looked like that guy who fell off the 5 stories the next morning was dead, well, yes, he was definitely dead. I didn’t take a picture of his body, something about respect and stealing someone’s soul.

Baja Ferries…. that’s funny. I could swear there was a more common term for ‘Ferry’ in Spanish.

It’s an 18 hour ferry ride from La Paz over to the mainland. The ferry doesn’t actually leave from La Paz proper, rather Pichilingue. It’s a 20 peso (~$2 USD) and 20 min bus ride from the Camionera del Centro (dwnt bus station) to Pichilingue. A seat on the ferry will cost you 800 pesos. It’s an overnight ride; 250 extra for a bed.

The whole operation is relatively professional, with security guards and random searches, assigned seating, the whole deal. Kinda like flying, except really slow and wet.

Leaving Pichiligue circa 4pm el lunes….

Pichilingue Ferry Terminal

Yours truly…

Mike on Ferry

Sunset over baja…

Ferry Sunset

Sunrise!

Ferry Sunrise

And… coming into the Mazatlán Ferry terminal at around 9am the next day.

Mazatlán Ferry Terminal

I should mention that sleeping in the ‘Salon’ was refugee-camp style. Choose what’s of most value to you, tie it to your body or put it under you, find a good spot on the linoleum floor, and enjoy the sound of babies taking turns crying all night long (hence why there’s that picture of sunrise). So unless you’re on some silly journey of self-deprivation, pay the extra 250 pesos and get a bed.

Cena y Desayuno are included in your ticket, and actually aren’t all that bad. There’s a bar on the ferry with your standard fare of light Mexican Cervezas.

It’s good to be moving on from La Paz! It’s a nice small city, but too small for 9 days…. 4 would have been enough for me. Oh! and no picture, but there were some dolphins jumping along next to the ferry on the baja side of the Sea of Cortez. Very cool.

This is my last catch-up post. Lotsa pictures.

If La Paz is famous for anything, it’s the Malecón (the walkway/street along the water) and the sunsets. Even though La Paz is east side of baja, the water lies to the northwest of the town due to the Bay of La Paz. How convenient… the sun sets to the northwest in this part of the world.

La Paz sunset, 11/18/2007

And the Malecón…

La Paz Malecón1

La Paz is the only real Mexican city in southern baja. The Cabos are resort towns, and nothing else here is big enough to have the vibrancy of a city. In ‘El Centro’ (downtown) the streets are packed and alive with people everywhere. It’s hard to capture the feeling with pictures, but this is a start.

La Paz random street

La Paz random street 2

Chiles, anyone?

La Paz chiles

And the beaches… if you head north out of town (actually farther down the baja peninsula) beaches dot the coast. It’s great – they serve beer on the beach. I spent a few days down that way. Playa Pichilingue…

Playa Pichilingue

Playa Tecolote…

Playa Tecolote

Shuffle your feet in the sand as you go out into the water… you got to scare the sting rays away! No joke. I found myself carrying this guy Odin back to the bus cause he got stung and couldn’t walk. Apparently it’s an intense throbbing pain that lasts about 3-4 hours… then you’re back to better.

I took an intensive spanish course in La Paz for a week at the Centro de Idiomas, Cultura y Comunicación, which is a language school in La Paz. The school was ok… the lesson plan wasn’t tailored enough to fit my deficiencies. But helped me a butload anyway.

CICC, La Paz

I met this dude at the school, Athony who’s doing México by bike. He said he’d ran into about 10 cyclists or so coming down baja from Vegas. Well, next time I come back to La Paz there’ll be one more cyclist coming down that road.