Tuesday, August 21, 2007

Crankin' Along

Sofia from 2000 meters.

So after gorging myself on John and Nancy's high-speed internet uploading videos to YouTube during our first day in Sofia, we finally got out of the house and saw the town. Well, let me back up a minute. Greg and Joel did visit the US Embassy on the first day, and returned from the "American Store" with peanut butter, Dinty More and Ruffles. That night John and Nancy grilled hamburgers and we enjoyed our first "American" meal of the trip.

St Nedelya Church

Russian Church in Sofia.

The following day we decided to get back to nature (sort of) and explore Mt Vitosha, which rises high above Sofia on the south side of the city. We rode two ski lifts to avoid hiking up, and this was a good thing, because we didn't get started 'till well after noon. It felt amazing to be in big mountains again, and looking down across the wide valley below, the smog-choked city of Sofia might as well have been Denver. After a few hours in the alpine, we began walking down the mountain (we missed the last chair) before Nancy met us in the car. That night we met John and had dinner at a local microbrewery.

Alexander Nevsky Cathedral

Alexander Nevsky Cathedral - note gold-brick roads below.

It wasn't before our final day "in Sofia" that we actually made it into Sofia. We followed the Lonely Planet's suggested walking route of the town and enjoyed being full-on tourists for an afternoon. Sofia is beautiful and yet undeniably the product of many years of communism. Near the stunning Alexander Nevsky Cathedral you'll find things like the National Palace of Culture, which is perfectly ugly (and not surprisingly opened under the Iron Curtain). However, after walking around the golden brick streets for an afternoon, we felt satiated with Sofia and returned to John and Nancy's for a traditional Bulgarian dinner of shopska salad and stuffed peppers. We followed it with some Rakia and cigars, courtesy of John. It was tough to leave the next day. We'd experienced unmatched hospitality and kindness and we all felt as "at home" as we had since, well, leaving home. So, John and Nancy, thank you again for everything.

John and Nancy with "the smelly boys."

We call him "Joel the Lionhearted."

We headed out of town by train to Karlovo, and with some fellow Peace Corps contacts from John, we met up with Matt Sumpter, a volunteer living in Kalofer. Matt works with the local municipality on a few different projects, but spends a lot of his time "advertising" the community and nearby national park in an attempt to bring more visitors to the region. Their website is actually modeled on the state of Colorado's tourism site, so check it out if your planning a trip to Bulgaria any time soon. Matt opened his flat to us and we all enjoyed dinner in town that night. As a note, we also saw our second burning car of the trip.

The Balkan Range

Biking through central Bulgaria.

The next morning we headed out on the bikes for one of our better rides. Heading east, we soon began our accent of Shipka Pass, passing through the town of Shipka and the most heavily plated, gold-domed church I've ever seen. It shown brightly on the hillside from miles away, and upon approach became more impressive. That was before the 14-km climb to the top of the pass, which was long and challenging. The view was alright, but the mass amounts of traffic (the pass to the east was closed for repair) made the climb longer, louder and smokier than it should have been. The decent was steep and fast as we passed through dense forests approaching Gabravo, where we'd meet up with Casey and Lindsey Foltz, also Peace Corps volunteers.

High country on Mt Vitosha

Casey and Lindsey welcomed us into their spacious flat and even let us do a load of laundry. So after stashing our bikes on their neighbor Amanda's porch, we showered and headed out for dinner. Casey and Lindsay also work for the municipality on a number of local projects. The next morning they took us to the local orphanage, which they explained is actually one of the nicer facilities of its kind in Bulgaria. We met many of the kids and spent about an hour with them before heading to lunch and back on the road. We rode on toward Veliko Tarnovo and met Melanie (yeah, also Peace Corps) in another town just up the hill.

John and Nancy would call this a "Bulgarian moment." Trash dumpster in the middle of town burning, and no one seems to mind.

VT, as it's called, has received a lot of attention of late, and the Lonely Planet has even gone as far as calling it the "new Prague." We all agreed that's blasphemy, but it's a town not without charms. It was once the capital of Bulgaria, and a fortress stands proudly above a large kink in the river. At night, a laser-light show captivates tourists. We missed it last night because we were still eating dinner, but we'll try and make it tonight. Tomorrow we're headed north toward the Danube River, which we'll see for the third time this trip. It's also the border with Romania, and with any luck we'll be in Bucharest in two days time. Thanks again to everyone with the Peace Corps who've welcomed us along our journey. It's been wonderful to speak with Americans again, and your hospitality won't be forgotten.

Fortress by night.

Fortress by day.

route update


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Wednesday, August 15, 2007

Wild Life

As it goes, we struggled to get out of Sarajevo in a timely fashion. We went on what nearly became a 4-hour wild goose chase in search of a Fed Ex, all the while using directions from a well-meaning woman who was instead thinking of a DHL. Problem is, DHL didn't do what we needed. We needed Fed Ex. Eventually we found a Fed Ex, but it was about 5km from the DHL and not in the direction we needed to go. So after getting things sewn up with the package people, we struck north toward Visoko and the "world's largest pyramids", or so we thought.

See, it's a "pyramid."

Upon visitation/investigation, we believe the "pyramids" to be nothing more than generally pyramidally shaped mountains, or, as some people believe, a mass-marketing scheme. I suppose with a bit of creativity, you can see pyramids, but Giza these ain't. However, because we had a late start, we didn't mind spending the night in Visoko in favor of an early start the next day. This turned out to be a good thing.

Yeah, so I mentioned in a previous post that buying property in Montenegro might be a good investment. Well, this isn't Montenegro.

First, let's get something out in the open. Bad maps prevent good planning and often lead to frustration. This was the case for most of our day, and the frustration was magnified as Greg and I thought back to our decision two days earlier; "we don't need a better map, it's expensive and this one's got the roads we need." Well, 12 hours, 120km (lots of backtracking) and a really steep, rocky pushing section later, we found somewhere to camp in the Bosnian countryside. But things were (almost) all up from this point. We ran across the first major wildlife of our trip in the form of the meanest, ugliest, hairiest woman any of us have ever seen. We call her the grizzly bear. She tried to charge us 20 Euro per person for a room without a bathroom or running water. Luckily, a family was grilling out across the road and saved us time and money by translating and telling us not to take her room, and that we'd be better off to sleep outside. One of the men was a local cop, and he assured us that no one would bother us there; it was perfectly legal for us to stay all night. We sat around and talked for a while, and it turned out they were Muslims from Albania and Bosnia taking a short holiday. They gave us beer and fired up the grill, cooking the rest of their food for us and leaving us with more than we could manage.

Engineers take note.

That night, the leftover trash attracted what Greg initially thought was a wolf. We yelled loudly and scared it away, but when it returned an hour later, we watched it for a while before deciding it was not a wolf, but something much smaller. We thought it'd be a good idea to charge it and scare it away because it was keeping us awake as it rummaged around the bottles and bags. So I put on my shoes and picked up a rock and started running toward it. About half way there, I realized it was a lot bigger than a raccoon, and in fact it was probably a coyote. No matter. It was more scared than me and after it ran off we built the fire back up and slept well the rest of the night. How could we not when we were sleeping in such a masterfully designed shelter (engineer friends of ours, take note)?

Skinned sheep - 9am.

We planned on riding about 80km the next day, but were slow getting out of bed. Just as we were about to leave the site at 9am, a car pulled up and a man got out, walking over and re-starting the fire we'd just extinguished. We said hello, but he didn't speak much English. Over the next 5 minutes, a few of his friends arrived and offered us a beer. We knew we were walking a fine line, but accepted the offer as "stretching beers." Well, during the coarse of our stretching, about 15 more guys showed up with two sheep (one cooked, the other prepared for a rotisserie-style slow cook over the coals), 10 cases of beer, and a soccer ball. Our "stretching beers" just below half full, we were presented with a second round (by now it's about 9:30a) and an invitation to spend the day with these guys and share in the lamb-roasting festivities. We decided that 'cause we had to go so far that day, it'd be best to hit the road "as soon as these beers are finished." Yeah, right.

Skinned sheep 3 hours later. Notice we're "ready to ride" only in a clothing sense.

The next 5 hours were a party the likes of which we may never experience again. We had 3-on-3 soccer matches (the USA didn't fair too well in the international match), drank about 7 or 8 beers each, and had a few shots of bourbon to balance out the 2 - 3 pounds of lamb we inhaled. These guys were thinking ahead. They had cooked one lamb the night before so that they wouldn't have to wait the 3 hours for the second lamb to cook. So between beer and soccer, we gorged on lamb, Ćevapi and bread. Turns out these guys all worked together at a shoe factory and came camping once a year at this spot together. They were all Muslim (hence the lamb), and welcomed us completely, sharing stories and telling jokes, listening to music and even inviting us to stay the night back at their homes - after all, 80km was looking harder and harder. But as the storm clouds rolled in, they decided to move the picnic to a better campsite with more shelter, and we decided to ride toward Banja Luka, the capital of the Republika Srpska (but not without a heaping plate of freshly finished lamb and a loaf of bread from the guys).

The sheep scene.

Riding 80km in rain while drunk is not a good idea. We survived the drunk part, but the hangover, combined with the professional lamb consumption of the morning, made for a long, cold, wet afternoon. Arriving in Banja Luka (Бања Лука - yeah, we've moved onto the Cyrillic alphabet now), we found a hotel and dried out before passing out. It'd been a long day, and we didn't make it out of the hotel 'till almost noon the next day. We were planning on touring around the city, but we met someone in the hotel lobby who dramatically changed our plans.

Nikola is a 63-year old, rally racer-turned-drag-racer-car-modification specialist. We started talking in the lobby and quickly hit it off with stories from our bike trip and his rally racing past. Turns out he and his son have been the numbers 1 and 2 rally drivers in the Republika Srpska over the past 4 years. Nikola's son, Nikica also rides bikes, so Nikola offered to take us to his house and introduce us to his son and his drag racing car.

Arriving at his flat, we were amazed as he fired up his Peugeot 205 MI 32, which he's modified by adding another engine! The front engine drives the front tires and the rear the rear. It's a one-of-a-kind vehicle that Greg was lucky enough to get test drive in. Joel and I laughed as we listened to Nikola and Greg screaming around Banja Luka. We talked with Nikica, who does freelance web design when he's not racing cars or bikes, who has posted the story of the car, along with some videos and pictures of the car on the net. After the test drive, Nikola offered to give us a tour of town in their 1 of 400 special addition unmarked Peugeot 405 T 16. It's a street legal version of the car that's won the Paris - Dakar road race a number of times, and it's really fast. We had to take him up on this offer, and we felt like VIPs as we were whisked around town at very high speed.

Greg = co-pilot.

Nikola's one-of-a-kind Peugeot 205 MI 32.

That afternoon we also visited the Motel Dragana, owned by one of Nikola's friends. There we participated in the Bosnian putt-putt golf championships and dined on the river. We were treated very well, and I've got to say that if you're ever in Banja Luka, this is the place to stay. After our late lunch, we headed back into town, but not before Nikola took us to one last place. You see, the best view of town is from the WWII monument high on the mountainside, but because it was Sunday, the road was closed. Well, Nikola carries a bit of weight in Banja Luka, and after telling the guard he was escorting "very important American journalists working on a big story," we were allowed to drive to the top of the mountain. As we arrived, a beautiful rainbow appeared over town, and Nikola spoke candidly with us about the recent war and his interpretations of the events of the mid 1990s. We were grateful of his willingness to share with us, and very appreciative of his open-minded approach to the story. He recognizes that everyone has a slightly different view of that difficult time and encouraged us to listen to his story, but also to do our own research. Although it's difficult to call one amazing day better than another at this point, we were truly humbled in Banja Luka by Nikola and Nikica's kindness and willingness to share their time with us. There's no doubt that we could have easily spent a week with them, sharing stories, riding bikes and learning from one another.

Special Report: Rainbow over Banja Luka.

Graphic depiction of the Nazis on WWII monument above Banja Luka.

So after Nikola dropped us back at the hotel, we had only a few hours before our overnight train left for Belgrade. Arriving at the train station we were faced with the common hurdle of, "there are no bikes allowed on this train." After numerous requests of the conductor and the help of many locals curious by the silly bicyclists, we wore him down and he relented with the caveat that we may only make it to Croatia where rules about baggage are "very strict." Breaking down the bikes and "stowing" them in a train car is an exercise to be avoided at all costs. It's difficult and time-consuming. However, we secured our gear just as the train pulled out of the station and after 8 semi-sleepless hours aboard the train, we arrived in Belgrade, the capital of Serbia. Here's some more free advice: visit Bosnia (by bike if possible). The people are amazing, friendly, and helpful at every turn (this is probably an understatement). We were welcomed nearly everywhere by people of different race, faith and economic background, all of whom shared their resources, but more importantly, their time and friendship. The country is physically stunning and offers far-reaching history that's relevant to us all.

Serbian Parliament

With Greg feeling a bit under the weather and not much time, Belgrade became an independent adventure for the three of us. While we spent some time together, we mostly freelanced, seeing what we thought to be the most important sights. Belgrade has an enormous fortress at the confluence of the Sava and Danube Rivers, which has been the subject of many battles between many powerful peoples. It's the thing to see in the city that never sleeps, and provides a relaxing spot to spend an afternoon surrounded by trees and grass instead of buildings and concrete.

Belgrade fortress.

Beer on Skadarlija

The pedestrian streets are full of outdoor cafes and beautiful women are seemingly everywhere. We've heard the nightlife is among the best in Europe, but the one night we spent in town was relatively relaxed. We drank beer and ate Italian in Skadarlija, the hip, bohemian quarter of the city. And as we sat eating, I was surprised when someone covered my eyes from behind. Nikola and Maria had driven into town to celebrate Nikola's birthday, and they happened to run into us that night. After dinner we shared a few beers and a group of musicians played and sang to us at our table. Nikola and Maria danced before heading back to Banja Luka, a much shorter 3 hours by car (that's with Nikola behind the wheel, otherwise it's more like 4).

Beer in Belgrade with Nikola and Maria.

Nikola and Maria have a dance before hitting the road.

The next day I visited Josip Broz Tito's grave site and a few of the well-known government buildings before relaxing in the park.


St Mark's Orthodox Church in Belgrade. Construction started in the 1930s and it's still not finished.

Cafe along the old walls of the fortress in Belgrade, high above the Danube River.

That night we hopped another train to Sophia, and it proved to be the most interesting train yet. The trip started well. I was talking with the station supervisor and he helped us out by talking to the conductor, telling him the station master had allowed us to secure a compartment for our bikes and that we only had to pay 10 Euro to do so. So bikes aboard, we dozed off for a few hours. But then things got weird. At about 1am, the police came through checking passports. If we'd been at a border, this wouldn't have been strange. But because we were still in the middle of Serbia, it was odd. A couple of hours later at the border, the guards came through and checked our passports, asking us to open the compartment with our bikes. We couldn't do this as the conductor had locked it, so when they unlocked it and started snooping around we got a bit nervous. Then they started taking pictures in the ceiling with a digital camera, and no sooner did we hear loud, destructive sounds coming from the cabin did they start pulling carton after carton of cigarettes out of the space above the lights. At this point, I think we might be headed to jail. It's the middle of the night, no one speaks English, and the "authorities" have found what appears to be a cigarette smuggling operation in the cabin with nothing other than our bikes. No one is telling us anything and our bikes and bags have been ransacked. But nothing else happened. The train sat and sat, and the Bulgarian border guards finally entered, checking and stamping our passports. Then the train started moving again. It was surreal and we couldn't figure out what had happened. But when I got up to try and reorder the bikes, I noticed a group of people in plain sight of the conductor with more cases of cigarettes, and they were stashing them in the ceiling of the bathroom! No one ever told us what was actually happening, but best we could make they were testing the border patrols by hiding contraband throughout the train. In the end nothing else happened, aside from being overcharged by the Bulgarian conductors for the bikes. We got off the train in Sophia and rode on our way.

And that's where we are now, resting peacefully in John and Nancy Sasser's house just south of town. John is the director of Peace Corps operations here in Bulgaria and Greg is good friends with their son, with whom he worked in Colorado. We'll be here for a couple of days so I'll try and get a few more updates posted before we head out. and sorry this is so long - I hope the videos make up for the length.

route update
Because we've finally found some fast internet, I've posted a number of other videos from the trip here on youtube.

Other videos...
Crazy road in Montenegro (extended version)



High-country camping.

Wednesday, August 08, 2007

˝Jebeš zemlju koja Bosanca nema˝

Riding up to 1900 meters.

I`ll translate that soon... But now I`ll pick up where I left off with the last post, which was Zabljak. We left on a rainy morning a few days ago knowing we were probably riding into a damp, cold day. After all, we had to climb to 1900 meters before riding through a 10km stretch of ˝high country˝ in Durmitor National Park before really beginning to descend. So we went for it, and it was beautiful. The clouds stayed just above the road as asphalt turned to gravel and bare rock. The valley to our south was full of dried lakes and sheep herders moving their flocks up or down valley. The weather was cool and misty, but not bad for riding. That soon changed.

The road ahead was long, wet and cold.

Beginning our descent, we found the rain. It was windy and wet, and we decided after lunch to take the more-travelled of our two road options, which led down to a river, and hopefully warmer, drier riding. What we found was nothing short of the best road any of us had ever experienced. I´d guess we passed through more than 30 tunnels on our descent toward Bosnia. The road was steep and perched high above a cobalt-blue reservoir hundreds of feet below. The tunnels were rough, many of them not illuminated except by the occasional holes in the roof. About half of the tunnels had turns inside, which made riding them an exercise in faith because the light from our headlamps seemed to be swallowed up by the darkness of the tunnels.



Canyon from the dam along the sweet road.

After being told to get off the 220 meter high dam, we continued out of Montenegro and into Bosnia to a town called Foča, about 25km from the border. We were a bit unsure about what to expect being Americans in this town. It`s in the Serbian Republic section of Bosnia and Herzegovina, and we`d heard differing opinions about people`s reactions to Americans based on our role in the mid-1990s war. What we found was a confirmation of the phrase, ˝Jebeš zemlju koja Bosanca nema,˝ which directly translated means, ˝Fuck the country that doesn`t have Bosnia in it.˝ It`s a reference to the days of Yugoslavia when the people were so proud of being associated with Bosnia because the people are so kind. We stopped at a bar in Foča to ask directions to a hotel, and although the kids spoke no English, they understood we needed somewhere to sleep. After recognizing the futility of verbally communicating directions, one kid motioned for us to wait while he got his car, escorting us all the way to the hotel. The attendants at the gas station talked with us for 10 minutes about our trip, and the woman at the hotel was exceptionally kind to us. A man burning tires in a junk yard yelled hello as we rode by, and half of the people driving on the roads shout some kind of encouraging remark as they pass us. And because of this overwhelming hospitality, we`ve decided to stay in Bosnia a bit longer than planned, taking a few more days to ride north to Banja Luka, the capital of the Serbian Republic.

The straw that broke the camel`s back; the spot from where heir to the throne Franz Ferdinand was assassinated, starting World War I.

Contrasts like this are everywhere. This is on the highway into town.

But that`s the future, and right now we`re in Sarajevo, home of the 1984 Winter Olympics and a devastating war - one who`s effects will linger forever. We left Foča on another cold, wet morning, and began climbing through the mountains that hosted the aforementioned Olympics. It was going to be an 80 km day, half of which was up hill (that was the nice part - it was dry).

The Holiday Inn, home to journalists and diplomats during the war.

The downhill was wet and cold, and arriving in Sarajevo, we barley noticed as we rode through Sniper Alley and past the Holiday Inn, the only hotel to remain open for the duration of the Siege of Sarajevo, which lasted nearly 1400 days. We quickly found some great private accommodation and warmed up before heading into town for some traditional Bosnian dinner, which we followed with a couple 1-liter steins of beer at the Sarajevo Brewery.

First night in Sarajevo.

The past few days have been a mix of museums, restaurants, and time spent wandering around a city with an undeniable appreciation of life. The two dominant people groups here are the Muslims and Catholics, both of whom were the targets of the Serbian aggression (the Serbians are by and large of the Orthodox faith). In this cultural crossroads, mosques dot the skyline amid cathedrals, and people of both faiths daily interact as they eat, drink, work and travel together. This all happens below war-scarred buildings and above shell-pocked streets, sandwiched in between new cemeteries full of those killed during the conflict. As in Mostar, many buildings remain damaged but lived-in, a daily reminder for all who pass that hate is real, but hope is strong. In the streets the sounds of construction are constant. New buildings grower taller by the day, and many of the damaged ones are slowly repaired as holes are filled and walls rebuilt. This city is beautiful in as many was as I can define that word, and I will never forget my time here.

Pigeon Square, the typical shot from Sarajevo.

Our first day in town was laid-back as we recovered from a bit of beer the night before. I walked up to the Olympic stadium and took a few pictures, but basically just wandered around town. We ended the day watching the sun set as we ate dinner on a fortress wall above the city. It was nice to be dry and off the bikes.

Sun set the first night.

Over the last few days we`ve visited a museum with a war exhibit, as well as the tunnel museum, which is all about the 800m long tunnel below the airport runway that served as an escape from the city while it was surrounded during the siege.

Joel walking through the only remaining part of the tunnel at the tunnel museum.

Memorialized shell explosion. These are all over the city.

For our last night, we bought tickets to a UEFA Champions League qualification match (soccer) between Sarajevo and a team from Belgium. Although Sarajevo lost 1-0, they still gained entrance to the next round based on points (this is why I don`t like soccer), so the city went crazy. The match was exciting because of the energy and chanting, and someone even lit the flag of the other team on fire just behind us in the stands. The fire department arrived, but not after allowing the flag to be totally consumed did they stamp out the remaining ashes.

Our first European soccer match.

Building near the former Olympic village.

also check joels and gregs blogs, linked at the right side of the page.
route update

Friday, August 03, 2007

Free Advice

Dubrovnik city walls.

It's been a week, but a lot has happened. We left Mostar and rode south to Medugorje, a town that's become a pilgrimage location for many Catholics. In 1981, six teenagers claim to have seen the Virgin Mary on the hillside. Since that time, the town has exploded despite missing the Catholic Church's official recognition of the validity of the apparition. We enjoyed the afternoon at the church and the sight of the apparition, but soon headed on toward Croatia and Dubrovnik.

Joel's bike broke down about 5km into Croatia, and it took us nearly three hours to get it running again. However, it was getting dark and we didn't know what to expect on the road ahead. We decided to sleep in the bocce ball court where we repaired the bikes. The police didn't seem to mind when they drove by as we set up our beds, and we slept well.

No bed like a bocce ball pitch.

Managed to get a flat tire about 3 km from this sign.

We arrived in Dubrovnik the next day after a brutal climb through a part of Croatia that looked like Mexico (with landmines). I got a flat about 5km from a minefield, and as my bike started to fall sideways off the road, we all braced for catastrophe. Tragedy averted and tire repaired, we pressed on and up the toughest sustained climb we've done so far. That was followed by a few more big uphills, but eventually we found the sea and Dubrovnik. Our apartment was located up on the hill above the harbor and had great views of the Lepad Peninsula. After showers and a few beers, we were ready to head out.

View from our room in Dubrovnik - first night.

The streets of Dubrovnik are made of white marble.

Greg and I wandered into town that night not knowing what to expect. We barely made it into the town walls when we met four girls from Denver who just happened to know a bunch of our friends from college. That night we had drinks and enjoyed talking to someone else - anyone who spoke English as their first language and hadn't been on a bike with us for the previous month. Their apartment had air conditioning, so we stopped in for wine from big straws and spaghetti.

We agreed to meet again the following night for a walk around the city walls in Dubrovnik. The city is beautiful from inside, but from the walls surrounding town, it shines. As the sun set, we tried to soak it all in. it was amazing. We ate pizza before the girls had to catch a bus back to Sarajevo (they're working there for the summer) and after buying a few beers, we watched The Simpsons Movie at an outdoor theater in Dubrovnik's Old Town. The city is great, the girls were awesome (thanks again for everything, sorry we're not getting into Sarajevo sooner), and we left feeling pretty good.

Walking the walls with the girls (hope you don't mind me posting your pics).

Dubrovnik from the city wall walk.

Just a note. Don't buy bicycle inner tubes in Dubrovnik. They only have valves that don't work with normal pumps. It took us three hours of frustration to come to this conclusion. Come prepared, or don't bother. Obviously, we didn't make many kilometers that day, and we slept in a vineyard just about 500 meters from the border of Montenegro.

Old Town Dubrovnik from the ride south.

Not a bad place to sleep.

So after picking up the first stamp in our passports since leaving Czech, we rode into Montenegro and toward Kotor, a small town at the head of the deepest fjord in southern Europe. It is a beautiful area with a fortress that rises high above the water below. After spending the afternoon resting by the sea, we climbed about 2000 feet out of the valley to the best campsite we've had so far. it overlooked the Adriatic and a large inlet to the fjord, and we slept well in the cool air. It was probably the first time the nighttime low temp has been below 85F in three weeks.

Kotor fjord at sunset. This was basically the view from where we slept.

Climbing on, we survived our first 100km day of the trip. Everyone rode hard as we entered the mountainous country of Montenegro (Crna Gora; Black Mountain), but it's been kicking our asses. Making the riding harder are the friendliest people we've met so far. Almost everyone wants to know where we're from, where we started, where we're going, and if we need any help. yesterday, a well-meaning man gave us beer and brandy at noon just before a 3000 foot climb. Well intentioned, but we paid for it.

Montenegran high country.

We followed the 100km day with another 80km into Zabljak, where we now sit. today we saw the Tara Canyon (second deepest in the world behind the Grand Canyon) and I visited Black Lake, which is really two lakes because the water is so low. Southern Europe is currently experiencing the worst year on record for wildfires, and the air quality for much of our trip has done nothing to dispel that statement. Anyway, the water in town doesn't run from 11p - 6a daily. Unavoidable, I guess.

Standing in the Tara Canyon

So now for that free advice. After all, if you've made it this far, you deserve something, right? Buy land near Zabljak. Simple, I know. But let me make my case. Beautiful town in the tallest mountains in the country with a ski resort at the base. Twelve kilometers from the second deepest canyon in the world. In a National Park. Looks like Crested Butte did 30 years ago. Two and a half hours from the Adriatic Sea by car, and one and a half from a major airport (at the capital, Podgorica). Country gained independence 7 months ago, and is already on the Euro. It's basically fast-tracked for EU membership. That means you don't have to gamble with some Mickey Mouse currency that may or may not gain or lose value meteorically before being banished for the Euro in ten years anyway. Look it up, check it out, and let me know if you want to go in on something. This is the next Sun Valley.

Zabljak



route update