Cycle Touring Hardships

Compatible Travelers

In 2015, Brent and I did a six-month cycle tour in Europe, and our friend, Laura, joined us for a month-long portion of that tour. She was bitten just as hard by the cycle-touring bug as I was, and she and I have spent the last couple of years scheming about all the tours we want to do. In June of 2017, the three of us went back to Germany to ride the Romantische Straße and the Mittelrhein, for the first of what we hope will be many return cycle touring trips.

The trip to Germany reminded me of how well Brent, Laura and I travel together. It’s also reminded me that a fourth travel companion in 2015 did not find our travel style, or the trip, a complete joy.

We’ve been working on talking a number of friends into joining our next tour in France in 2019. I thought it might be a good idea to warn those fine folks about some of the less-than-ideal circumstances they might encounter in 2019 so they can make a properly-informed decision about joining us.

Here are some of the “hardships” we anticipate for folks:

1. 

   Early Start

   Early Starts: No one is obligated to take early starts, but if you want to ride with Brent, Laura
   and me, you have to be prepared to have wheels rolling every day by 8AM at the absolute latest. This is not only our preference, but we also find there are a number of advantages to doing this. For example, you can get your daily riding done before the worst heat of the day (if the day is going to be hot); you can get your daily riding done before the afternoon rain showers (if there are going to be afternoon rain showers); you are less likely to encounter problems getting a spot in the campground because you’re some of the first ones to arrive. If you want to join us on a tour, but don't want the early starts, you can certainly set your own start times and ride by yourself, or you can try to rally some other late-starting folks to form a “second group” if you like. If you do, you must be prepared to make your own way during the day, stay in touch via text (if our technology is cooperating) to confirm where we’ve stopped for the night, and take your chances on getting a spot at the campground (no, we can’t reserve spots for you each day). In the case of a heat wave, we might even adjust to “wheels rolling” by 7:00 (instead of 8:00) to beat the heat.
   
   
   
   
   

   

   Zeltplatz at Füssen

2. Campgrounds: A lot of us are used to the peace and serenity of backcountry campgrounds.
   That’s not what we’ll encounter on a cycle tour. We’ll be staying in side-of-the-road campgrounds with campers stacked one on top of the other. They can be extremely crowded and noisy (this is more of a problem in Germany than in France). Laura recommends "safety grade" earplugs and says the campgrounds can be "like Banff campgrounds on the May long weekend before the alcohol ban was put in". As far as we know, in France, you at least get your own assigned site. In Germany, tents don’t even get an assigned site in most places – you’re just sent to the “Zeltplatz” (tent place), which is a big open area, and you pitch wherever there’s an empty patch of grass. The disadvantage of assigned sites, of course, is that the campground might be full when you get there (see early starts).
   
   
3. Camping… a LOT: Laura, Brent and I prefer camping. It is easier and more flexible (and easier on the budget). Given the choice, we will almost always choose camping. For example, on our 2017 tour, we checked into Penzions 4 times due to bad weather and/or lack of campgrounds, plus a BnB for the end of the trip to prepare for going home. Other than that, we camped. You are not obligated to camp as much as we do, but if you choose not to, you’ll be in charge of making your own arrangements. Since we will have a tentative destination for each day, but no guarantees, you should not make reservations more than a day in advance. In 2015, I would make reservations in the morning for that night through booking.com. Besides complications with not finding a place at all, if you do manage to book into a place, it may be more expensive than you were hoping, it may be difficult to find in the town, and it may be straight up a freakin’ hill when you get there. When you get there, you have to unload your bike and carry EVERYTHING up to the top floor (yes, you’ll always end up on the top floor… just because). Camping is easier. I do recommend sticking with us on that.
   
   
   
   

4. 

   "First Coffee" near a Castle

   Coffee: We do not recommend bringing a stove nor cookware on the trip. We either eat cold food
   “off the bikes”, or in restaurants. It’s not worth it to haul the extra gear to prepare food (or coffee) in our opinion. If you decide to bring cookware and prepare coffee in the mornings that is absolutely fine, but remember the early starts – early starts don’t wait for coffee. If you don’t bring anything to prepare coffee, you must be prepared to wait for coffee. We stop for a short or long break every hour when riding, and we try to find coffee on the first stops, but we don’t always find a place. In 2017 we even had a day where we had to wait until the next day for “first coffee”!
   
   
5. Food/Meals: Our tours are not “foodie” trips. We don’t spend a tonne of time and energy seeking the exact right meal for every meal – often we’re just fueling the machine. We buy groceries to carry with us (be sure to reserve some room in a pannier for groceries, or better yet, carry an insulated bag of some kind), and often have breakfast and/or lunch “off the bikes” (e.g., yogurt, rolls, volkenbrot, cheese, sandwich meat, fruit). When it’s dinner time we often have more choice, and sometimes we have a truly special experience, but often it’s “just a meal”. In France, restaurants don’t open for dinner until 7PM. By then, we’ve usually eaten off the bikes, or filled ourselves with pub food.
   
   

   A banana keeps us going for another km

   Side-of-the-road lunch

   Eating "off the bike"

   Is that a baguette?

   
   
   

6. 

   "Laundry Wine" in a Hotel Room

   Weight Gain: It is likely that you will GAIN (not lose) weight on a cycle tour. What else can I say about that? Don't get your hopes up about losing weight. If you did a longer tour than a month, that would likely happen, but as Brent always says, expect to gain weight for the first three weeks of a cycle tour. On a month-long tour, the last week isn't enough time to make a meaningful difference, especially when the last two or three days are reserved for chores and preparation to come home.  See my blog about this.
   
   
7. Laundry and Hygiene: Cycle touring can be like extended backpacking. You have limited
   clothing with you, limited options for showers, and even more limited options for doing laundry. Europeans don’t have bathtubs like we’re used to. It is unlikely that you will be able to submerge your body into a tub of water on a cycle tour. We try to do a load of laundry every few days, but sometimes you go for longer than anticipated without being able to do some. Be prepared to stink. Be prepared to stink even when you’re on your way into a restaurant. Also, re: laundry… even when you get to do laundry, it’s not like doing laundry at home. A lot of European machines take (literally) three hours to do a load. You just may not get your turn at the machine. Be prepared to hang clothes instead of using a dryer (often a dryer isn’t even available). Be prepared to share laundry loads with others – we can’t all take our individual turn at a machine that takes three hours.  After a number of days fruitlessly searching for a working washing machine, we may even resort to doing "laundry wine" (washing the laundry in a bathtub... stomping with feet as though making wine).
   
   
8. Smokers: Unfortunately, EVERYONE in Europe smokes. Yes… EVERYONE. And they smoke in restaurants. EVERYONE smokes, and they smoke EVERYWHERE. It’s actually the one thing that makes me feel like I’m happy to come home after a trip – just to get away from the damned smoke.
   
   
9. Accommodation: We have to be extremely flexible about accommodation. Often what we plan works out, and sometimes it doesn’t. Maybe we don’t make as
   many kms as we planned. Maybe we actually make more. We don’t make reservations ahead of time. We breeze into town hoping for the best. Sometimes we have to keep on breezing into the next town…
   
   
10. Sight-Seeing: We’re not going to be able to see everything, or visit every point of interest along the way. For the 2019 trip, I will “survey” the folks who commit to coming about what they want to be sure to see, and we’ll do our best to see those things, but be prepared to leave some things “on the table” for your next trip to the area. I’ll be trying to organize our “rest days” around areas with lots to see so that folks can see as much as possible, but we’re just not going to see everything.
    
    

11. 

    A "HOUG" in Germany

    Riding Expectations: We do our best ahead of time to know how far we’ll ride in a day, and how
    hilly it will be. But sometimes mistakes happen and we do extra in back-tracking to the route, and sometimes construction and detours happen. Try not to be too tied to your expectations of what the day will hold, because it may just hold more than you anticipated (and not always in a good way). Even on well-traveled, well-marked cycle routes HOUGs happen (that’s “Hills Of Unreasonable Grade”). One thing you can generally count on, though, is that we do take a break (short or long), pretty regularly, each hour.
    
    
12. Road Surface: Often we have separated bike paths. Sometimes we’re on roads. Sometimes we’re on busier roads than we care for. Sometimes we’re on asphalt. Sometimes we’re on gravel. Sometimes we’re on dirt. Sometimes we’re on cobblestones (they’re the worst). Sometimes we’re on what I lovingly call “Edmonton Surface” (yeah, you know what that is).
    
    
13. Accommodating: We intend to ride together. That means adjusting to the slowest-paced person. If someone is actually unable to do the trip, they’ll have to leave the trip (or do their own version of the trip). If someone just has a bad day, though, we’ll all have to adjust, slow down, and accommodate. If you’re the one having a bad day, and you don’t want to make everyone wait for you, there’s the option of “catching up” by train, but keep in mind that taking the train with your bike is NOT fun. We’re all “Outdoor Club” people. We know how to accommodate. Expect a lot of that.
    
    

    No one left behind

    Ann waits out yet another flat tire

    
    
    
14. Your Rig: Freedom or Boat Anchor?: There will be times that your loaded bike will feel more like a boat anchor than anything else. You might have to push the whole thing up (and down) a set of stairs. You may have to load it on and off of trains. Everyone should help everyone else as much as possible, but be prepared to haul that rig around if/when necessary. Make sure you’ve chosen an appropriate bike. Brent, Laura and I can all help with that beforehand. Make sure your rig has been checked over and tuned up before the trip. If you’re likely to need new tires during the trip, consider getting them ahead of time rather than trying to buy and install them on the tour. If, during the tour, you experience a problem with your bike, deal with it ASAP and tell us about it. Don’t wait until you have a complete breakdown to do something. It’s easier to be proactive (i.e., when you’re actually in a town) than to deal with a breakdown out on the road. Note that we do not recommend EBikes. We don't know if you'll be able to get to a charging station frequently enough, and an EBike will be super-heavy to ride if it's not charged, and it will be SUPER-HEAVY to haul up and down stairs, onto trains, etc.
    
    

    Horrible rental bikes in the UK	Reunited with Dewey after rental bikes	Gabi's piecemeal rig	Unexpected stairs across the Rhein
    Train station stairs	Some trains aren't bicycle friendly	Bikes on a train	Loaded bikes on hooks

    
    
    
15. Bailing Out: What if you take ill on the trip? What if you get injured? What if you get out there and you just can’t do it? What if you get out there and you just hate it? Think about how you’ll deal with that in case it happens. I will research some “bail out” points and strategies to help you out, but if you need to leave the trip early, you’ll need to be prepared to figure that out. A nice thing about the trip in 2019, is that there's a train that runs the length of our intended route (The Loire Valley), so bailing out by train will be logistically (if not technically... see "Your Rig") easy... relatively speaking.
    
    
16. Other: We’ve done our best to anticipate what folks might perceive as hardships. But we’re not you, and there may be hardships awaiting you that we haven’t anticipated.

A work friend read this list of hardships and said it reads as though we don't really want other folks to come along with us. That could not be further from the truth. We absolutely want you to come along... we just want you to do that with your eyes open, and your expectations set for reality. Clearly we love these trips, and we want you to, too!

We really want you to come along

Right Laura?  Right..... Laura??

NEW FOR 2023!

I am hoping some friends will parachute in for some of our 10-week tour in 2023, so thought I should update the Hardships List with some new things that came to light from our 2019 tour:

17. Plans Change: Although we start a tour with a specific plan, sometimes we decide to change the plan.  This may be because of weather, or unforeseen political circumstances, or we just plain feel like it.  If you decide to join us, you should be prepared with your own plans and understand that, best laid plans being what they are, we may not end up being where we thought we would be.

 18. We Like Our Plan: Although we are flexible about recognizing when we need to change our plan, we're still very invested in our plan.  I often spend tens, if not hundreds, of hours researching and prepping for a tour.  If you come along, expect us to do everything we can to stick with our plan, which means not tossing it in the trash to do what you want us to do instead.  LR, I'm looking at you here.

Homemade Tour Plan

Planning Resources

Laura scored a new map

Reviewing the daily plan

19. Hot Starts: It's a real PITA to try and transport big boxes from the airport to some kind of "staging area".  Although it's nice to get your bearings and get over the jet lag for a day or two when you arrive, we've decided that that's not how we like to do things.  Instead, we prefer to unpack at the airport, load up the bikes and ride straight from there.  Don't worry... I'm really nervous about traffic so I do my best to find a safe route straight from the airport.  Your biggest problem will be riding with the jet lag.  Ask Brent how much he likes that...  At the end of the trip we try to spend two or three days in the city of our airport to prepare to go, but the ending brings its own challenges (which I'll do my best to mitigate before we leave... watch for the copious planning e-mails).

20. Rest Days (or lack thereof): Hardship 10 above mentions "rest days", which implies that we do those regularly.  We did, in fact, plan on doing them regularly for our tour in 2019 because we were catering to the beginners accompanying us.  Our normal touring rhythm does not include regular rest days.  Sometimes we do, in fact, do a rest day, but they only happen if we get really crappy weather, or one (or more) of us feels a great need for one.  Otherwise, we are on the move (even if for just a short distance) every day.

Easy Peasy Backpacking

A few weeks ago Brent and I participated in the Edmonton Outdoor Club's "Backpacking 101".

There were five of us volunteers participating and we had various stations set up including Jo demonstrating long-term point-to-point backpacking and winter backpacking, Brent demonstrating cycle touring, and Rob and Lynn demonstrating backpack cooking, safety, and so on.

My station, of course, was the "Easy Peasy Backpacking" station and I had two topics to share:

1. Easy backpack food
2. Easy backpack trips, including hub-and-spoke trips

Easy Backpack Food

A number of my friends are essentially backpack chefs.  On each trip they show up with all their little containers full of  fresh ingredients.  They prepare their fresh, aromatic meals, while sharing tips, secrets and recipes with other backpack chefs.

If Brent were into being a backpack chef, I'd be all over eating those fresh, aromatic backpack meals, but he isn't, and I definitely am not.  So, I've learned a few things over the years about taking the easy way out with regards to backpack food.  Here are some of my favorites:

• Breakfast:
  • Quaker instant oatmeal
  • Starbuck's Instant Coffee packs
• Lunch:
  • Tinned tuna salad (from the tinned fish section of the supermarket)
  • Left-Over Pizza.  Good for day one and maybe day two (if it's not too warm out)
• Dinner:
  • Boil-in-bag meals from the Indian grocer.  Pair a Paneer meal with:
  • Homemade boil-in-bag rice: Prepare rice at home, store it in a Ziplock boil-friendly bag
  • Backpack meals from the store are acceptable in a pinch
• Snacks:
• Cheese.  It travels extremely well, even on multi-day trips.  Pre-wrapped pieces such as individual cheddars or BabyBels are great.  Take a few pieces for every day, even for trips of a week or longer
• Indian snack mixes: Punjabi Mix, Navrattan Mix, Chevda... find these in the snack aisle of your local Indian grocer.  They're a great, tasty substitute for traditional trail mix
• Raw almonds (from the baking aisle)
• Run Rype dried fruit bars
• Clif Bars
• Sesame Snaps
• Special K breakfast bars
• Mini-Wheats in a tupperwear
• Potato Chips

What are your favorite easy backpack foods?  Please share in the comments so I can learn some things!

Easy (Yet Wonderful) Backpack Trips - Hub and Spoke

I know people who talk about their backpack adventures, including 14-day back-country trips through Willmore Wilderness, backpacking in Iceland, and any number of things that I would assign any number of adjectives but "fun" and "enjoyable" would not be on the list.

But backpacking doesn't have to be back-breaking or soul-crushing.  If you just want to get out for a nice time with your friends, or family, consider a hub-and-spoke trip.

Hub-and-spoke means that you walk in to your camp site and set up camp.  For any number of days, you do day trips from your base camp.  On your last day, you pack up camp and walk back out.  No packing up and moving every single day.  You can even enjoy a day off if you want!

Some of my favorite hub-and-spoke backpack trips in the Canadian Rockies:

• Tombstone: Hike in via Elbow Lake.  Day trips: Rae Lake, Sheep Lakes, Piper Pass.
• The Forks: Hike in to The Forks campground.  Day trips: Turbine Canyon & Haig Glacier, Three Isle Lake & Kananaskis Pass.
• Skoki: Hike in to Hidden Lake or Baker Lake.  Day trips: Deception Pass, Cotton Grass Pass.
• Berg Lake: Helicopter in to Berg Lake.  Day trips: Snowbird Pass, Hargreaves Lake, Robson Pass.  Hike out.

I am a self-professed sissy.  In order to enjoy backpacking I have to make it as easy for myself as possible.  And I do.  Make it as easy for myself, AND enjoy it.  Even if you're a backpacking sissy, you can enjoy it too.

The Set-Up Beer

The first time I took Brent backpacking with my Calgary pals was a trip to MacLeod Creek in August of 2009.

When backpacking, of course there is a lot of focus on bringing only what you truly need for the trip.  The essentials.  You're going to be carrying everything for your trip on your back, so size and weight are key considerations.  Every backpacker decides for themselves what "exceptions" they are willing to carry.  For some people it is a proper pillow.  Others may decide that a book is not optional, and carry along their favorite novel.  My friends have a long-standing tradition of bringing a "set-up beer" on our trips.  A "set-up beer" is pretty self-explanatory... it's a beer that you bring along to enjoy while you set up camp after lugging all your stuff in on your first day.

I like having someone to share gear with on a backpack trip.  I can comfortably carry 30lbs in a pack.  By the time I reach 33-35lbs, I'm getting uncomfortable, and carrying anything beyond 35lbs is virtually impossible for me.  Yeah, I'm just wimpy that way.  So, having someone to share the load with is awesome.

Brent and I prepared for our trip together and split up the essential gear - tent, tarp, first aid kit, food, water filter, pot and stove, and so on.  I didn't tell Brent about "set-up beer".  I snuck out and bought a couple of big cans of Molson Canadian and re-packed my pack, hiding them at the very bottom.

When the day of the trip came, we all hiked in together.  Honestly, MacLeod Creek is not a particularly interesting nor scenic trip, so as km turned into km and another km, we were all feeling very ready to reach our camp site.

Then... someone said they couldn't wait to have their "set-up beer".

Brent: "What?  What?  What is that?"

Friend: "Set-up beer!  We all bring a beer to enjoy while we set up camp!"

Brent looked absolutely stricken.  He looked at me with his heart clearly breaking, "You didn't tell me about 'set-up beer'!  I don't have a 'set-up beer'!"

I apologized to him and we kept hiking, Brent's bottom lip dragging on the ground from the pouting while my friends tormented him, expounding about the joy, and tradition, of the revered "set-up beer" (they were in on my prank).

When we got to camp, I couldn't wait to spring on him that I had, in fact, brought set-up beers for both of us.  Thankfully the relief and joy of experiencing his "set-up beer" overrode the trauma of the first practical joke that I played on him.  Yay for "set-up beer"!

"Miracle Gabi" Day

Brent's sister's friend, Gabi, who lives on Bequia but is originally from Germany, rode with us on our European Cycle Tour from Donaueschingen to Vienna.

"Miracle Gabi" and the Canadians

To say that Gabi is a "character" would be a gross understatement.  Traveling with Gabi was thrilling, vexing, and never boring.  Of all of our adventures with Gabi, one day stands out quite spectacularly.  I call it "Miracle Gabi" Day.

Our good friend, Laura, joined us for the same portion of our tour as Gabi.  The four of us had been cycling together across Germany for about one week.  We were enroute to Donauworth for the day, cycling mainly down little-used side roads.  It was overcast and threatening to rain.

We were on a particularly small and quiet side road when Laura's bike decided to blow a spoke.  We stopped to have a look at it and hoped that it could be repaired on the spot, but we came to realize that that was simply not to be.  We were in the middle of nowhere, about 8km from Donauworth and it was starting to drizzle.  Our map indicated two bike rental shops in town, but no bike store or mechanic, so I expected the next few days to involve a lengthy solution in order to get back on the road.

Starting to formulate a plan, we were angling towards having Brent and Gabi continue on to Donauworth, and I would walk with Laura the 8km to Donauworth.  None of us was happy with the plan but it was the best we (and when I say 'we', I mean, the three imagination-less Canadians) could come up with.

One of Gabi's happiest moments on the tour

Completely dissatisfied with our inferior plan, Gabi pronounced "Don't worry guys, I got this".  She blew a kiss to the sky and said something to the universe, and then, quite confidently stated "the next vehicle that comes along is for us".  Doubty Doubterson became my name at that moment.

We didn't even have time to convince Gabi that "Plan A" (logic, reason, and "sucking it up") was the way to go when down the road, traveling in our direction, appeared a small car towing a small horse trailer.  Gabi marched out into the middle of the road, stopped the car, and had a conversation with the driver.

The horse trailer was empty.

The driver was a man, heading to Donauworth, with his son.

They piled Laura and Gabi's bikes and gear into the horse trailer, tossed Laura and Gabi into the back of the car, and before Brent and I could say WTF, they were off down the road.

Brent and I rode the rest of the way to Donauworth.

The man dropped Laura and Gabi off right at the bike repair shop in Donauworth.

The bike repair shop had Laura's bike repaired before Brent and I even reached Donauworth.



I will never forget "Miracle Gabi" Day.

Waschfreunde, Where Are You When We Need You?

Cycling touring in Europe last year was the best, and most aromatic, time of my life.  By definition, when you're cycle touring, you haven't got a lot of clothing along.  Brent had essentially two outfits along: one to wear and one to switch into.  I had a little more than that, but not much more.  Good thing I don't mind being stinky!

We skipped merrily through Iceland without needing to do a load, and when we hit France we found it wonderfully civilized, with a laverie (laundromat) pretty much every place we went.

When we got to Germany, though, things started to get a little weird.  Every town we asked in apologized for not having a waschsalon (landromat) and it seemed that they were quite uncommon in Germany.  A few days in we reached Mannheim where we found out first waschsalon of Germany.  Mannheim is a university town, which is why they have one.

The Waschfreunde (wash friend) in Mannheim was a wonderful modern place with brand new machines and a very VERY attentive attendant.  She greeted us, showed us how the machines worked and proceeded to help us through the whole process.  It was like she thought we'd never used a laundromat before, and we suspected that most of her clientele hadn't.

The further east we went, the harder it got to find any kind of laundromat at all, and in most of the countries we visited, it just isn't done.  People own their own washing machine, and if they don't, they use their family or friends' washing machines.  We managed to find washing machines occasionally in campgrounds, and occasionally said washing machines were actually functional.  It was a pretty special day when we found a spot with a machine, even though most of the machines we encountered beyond France took up to three hours to wash one load.

In Germany we stayed at a very nice campground that had washers AND dryers.  What luxury!  We were vexed, though, to discover that the dryers didn't dry.  Eventually Brent figured out that there was a water reservoir on the machine that had to be emptied regularly (like, several times per load) in order for any drying to occur at all.  Very strange.

Occasionally we'd get too desperate for clean clothes to wait for our next chance encounter of a machine so we'd have to make "laundry wine" which involved stomping our dirty clothes into submission in the bathtub with some water and laundry soap.

When we reached Croatia, we not only found laundromats non-existent, we also found campgrounds non-existent.  For the first couple of weeks we stayed in hostels and "apartmani" (furnished short-term stay apartments) and once in a while we'd encounter a washing machine in our apartman.  I was, shall we say, disproportionately happy to discover a washing machine in our apartman in Rijeka.  As we reached the more touristy areas of Croatia, campgrounds became more plentiful, but washing machines were still scarce.  Quite often we'd resort to the "laundry wine" trick.

Even that didn't always work out, though.  We stayed in an apartman in Dubrovnik and we were beyond desperate to do some laundry.  The apartman complex had an extensive list of "rules" including visitors being strictly forbidden to wash clothes in their rooms.  They would happily provide a laundry service for €30 per load.  Yes, that's approximately $45CAD for a single wash.  We declined and I stealthily washed a couple of items anyway.

We've been back home now for four months and I'm still not over the shock of discovering how much clothing I own, nor the luxury of washing it, and smelling sweet, any old time I want.

Look Out pStyle, Here Comes Stadium Gal

I love the freedom my pStyle affords me.  I can pee standing up while outdoors, avoiding trying to squat in the snow or in heavy brush or in bug-infested places.  I can pee standing up in unsanitary long-drops and gas station washrooms.  There is no doubt the pStyle is my favorite gear.

On our recent trip to Loreto, one of our first outings was sport fishing on the Sea of Cortez.  I'd been looking forward to it ever since Legendary Ed and I started planning the trip.  He's been going on annual fishing trips since he turned 90 and I've always wanted to tag along.

We were introduced to a fantastic fishing guide named Juan.  Juan took us out for the morning in his panga.  One of his first orders of business was to have a whiz over the side of the boat.  I was envious as I was already feeling the urge too and I wondered how I'd fare out on the water in a panga for several hours.

We fished for skipjack.  We fished for yellowtail.  We fished for marlin.  We fished for roosterfish.  Brent and Ed caught fish.  I lost a fish, took photos and tried not to think about my bladder.

After we'd been out for a few hours, Juan took his second pee over the side of the boat and I decided I'd have to ask to do the same.  Before I had a chance to ask for myself, chivalrous Brent asked on my behalf.  Juan suggested that I squat over the side of the boat.  I wouldn't be able to do that, but I thought I could give the trusty pStyle a try.

I asked the men in the panga for some privacy and they looked the other way while I tried to use the pStyle off the front of the boat.  The side of the boat was too high, the boat was too floaty (yes, I understand that's a good quality in a boat), and I had stage fright.  To clarify, the side of the boat being too high is a problem because:

1. If I got the exact right pressure on the pStyle, it was angled back towards myself instead of over the boat
2. If I got the pStyle angled over the boat, it put too much pressure on my urethra for me to pee

After my first unsuccessful attempt, the men politely all moved and faced the other direction so that I could try peeing over the back of the boat, which isn't quite as tall as the front of the boat.  Alas, still no success.

For the rest of the trip, I suffered with my full bladder and vowed that I would find a solution to this problem asap.

One of our fellow villa-dwellers lent me his "pee bucket" for our second trip out, which was great.  I happily used the bucket and Ed even used the bucket once.

A pee bucket isn't the kind of long-term solution I was hoping for, though, so I decided to take another look at the Stadium Gal, which I've been aware of for a few years.  The Stadium Gal is the female version of the Stadium Pal, an external catheter designed for men to enjoy sporting events without having to interrupt their fun by getting up to pee.  

Now, reminiscent of my first foray into peeing standing up with the dreaded Whiz Easy, my Stadium Gal has arrived and is sitting, mockingly, in my office waiting for me to muster the courage to try it.  Soon, Stadium Gal.  Soon.

Dear Westjet: You Suck

SATURDAY:

Ed and I just got back from Loreto (Mexico) and boy did Westjet ever let us down this time.  By "Ed" I mean "Legendary Ed".  At the time of this writing, he's almost 94.  He's also well over 6' tall.  He always goes for bigger seats on aircraft simply so he can fit in the seat.  For our trip to Loreto, we got the "Plus" seats, which I've never done before, but that's where the leg room is.  Having a "Plus" seat is pretty nice - I enjoyed having one on the way to Loreto.

When our time in Loreto was nearly completed, I got the usual "check in online" e-mail from Westjet a day before our flight.  I didn't use the online check-in because I didn't have the same access to technology (including 3G roaming) that I have at home and was concerned that I wouldn't be able to access our boarding cards at the airport.  So, we decided to check in the old-fashioned way: at the check-in desk talking to a person.

At check-in, the ticket guy clearly knew that we had Plus seats because he didn't charge us for our checked bags.  He neglected, however, to warn us that our seat assignments were not for Plus seats.  (FAIL: Should have warned us that our seats had been given away... or, rather, sold to another customer).

After check-in, we looked at our tickets and the seat assignments looked wrong - 6B and 19B.  Those didn't look like Plus seats to us, but since we hadn't been informed by the ticket agent, nor charged for checked bags, I wasn't particularly worried.  I told Ed that I'd inquire when we got through security and to the gate.

At the gate area, I went to speak with the lady at our gate.  She looked up our reservation and told me she couldn't help me because our reservation was not for Plus seats.  (FAIL: Lied to me about this).  I produced my printed confirmation that we did, in fact, have Plus seats at which point she summoned her supervisor.

The supervisor shrugged and said we would have to complain when we get to Calgary.  I said that wasn't good enough because my friend is very tall and very old.  I went to get Ed as "backup" and to show them that making him sit in a cattle car was not acceptable.  Incidentally, Ed was not looking like his usual robust self today.  He'd taken a spill hiking on Coronado Island and half of his face was a big purple bruise, and he was walking with a cane because of a newly acquired "trick knee".  The supervisor shrugged again and told us to tell the flight attendant and they would figure it out.  (FAIL: Supervisor should at least say sorry for the situation and be more helpful about finding a resolution).

When we got on the plane, I spoke with Flight Attendant Michelle.  I told her that we had been bumped out of our Plus seats for some reason and no one in the terminal would help me - they were making her deal with it.  Her first reaction was that we should go stand at the very back of the plane while everyone else boards and then she'd deal with us.  (FAIL: Really??).  When I asked her why she said because she didn't know where anyone else was seated at that time and she needed to get the plane boarded.  She then told us to take our assigned seats (which she wrote down) and she would come talk to us when everyone was boarded.  I told her that Ed won't fit in a normal seat and she just said she had no other choice.  That's what we needed to do until everyone else was boarded.

I left Ed at 6B and went back to 19B.  I was, oddly, seated between a couple, and, oddly, they declined when I offered to let them sit together, so I had one on either side.  They listened, sympathetically, while I ranted for a few minutes and then engaged me in conversation about Loreto, which was very helpful to calm me down.

When it looked like everyone was on board, I could see that Ed was still in 6B, so I walked up to the front of the plane.  When I reached the row where Ed was sitting, I encountered another Flight Attendant.  I asked her if anything had been done about moving him.  She said "I don't know anything about that.  Did you talk to someone?"  I indicated Michelle.  She said "Go talk to her then" and rudely pushed past me in the aisle.  (FAIL: I'm already being treated like a difficult customer... for what??)

I approached Michelle and she said that the flight was full and there was nothing she could do.  We would just have to complain when we reach Calgary.  I said "Look at him!  He doesn't fit in the seat!  We paid for Plus seats so he'd have leg room."  Michelle said "Well, all these other people paid for Plus seats too."  I said "Can we ask someone if they'd trade?"  Michelle talks to one lady who immediately agrees to switch with Ed.  I thanked Michelle and the lady.  (FAIL: She clearly didn't even TRY to do anything about it until I insisted, and wouldn't have even bothered trying if I hadn't insisted).  I asked if the seat he was being moved to was bigger.  Michelle turned and started walking away, flipped her hands in the air and said, curtly, "That's the biggest you get!"  (FAIL: Really?  Treat me like I'm being a difficult customer when all I'm doing is trying to get my long-legged friend into the seat that he paid for IN NOVEMBER!?)

I returned to 19B and the nice couple from Cochrane.  They had to listen to me rant again for a minute about the way Michelle handled the situation, and the way she treated me.

Now, over-selling a flight I can actually understand.  There is ALWAYS attrition.  When I post an outdoor event I always exceed my maximum as well, and thanks to attrition, I almost never have more than my maximum come out.  But what I don't understand is, if you're going to over-sell your flight, why over-sell the PLUS seats?  If you over-sold cattle-car seats and had to "bump" people to Plus seats, they'd be thrilled about it.  People being bumped from Plus seats to cattle-car seats... not so much.

Through the whole experience, not once did anyone say:
- We're sorry this happened
- We take responsibility for this happening
- We will try to resolve this
They treated us as an inconvenience at best, and a difficult customer at worst.

SUNDAY:

I called Westjet customer service and I spoke with a helpful lady named Leslie.  One of the first things she said was that she was sorry this happened to us.  She was the FIRST person through everything to indicate that she/Westjet was sorry.  She said she could clearly see that we had a Plus reservation and she didn't know why we weren't given our seats.

After several minutes of looking into it, she could find no reason why our seats were given to other customers.  She said the only reason would be if someone needed them for a medical reason, which was not the case.  She indicated that perhaps the system had somehow given up our seats to another customer checking in online as an "upgrade", although that shouldn't happen because Westjet doesn't over-sell their Plus seats.  I said that maybe that's something their IT department should look into.

She offered me compensation for the experience, starting with $200/ea back to me and Ed.  We could take it as cash back (to my credit card) or as a flight bank.  I said we'd take the money back on my credit card because I was not satisfied with the resolution and I didn't know if I'd fly with them again.  She asked if there was more she could do to make me happier and offered me $300/ea, which I accepted.  I'm not sure if I'm happy about that at all.  I don't feel compensated for what happened; I feel appeased.