| Page | Dates (Click) | Synopsis | Friends |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1 | 2015/04/30 - 2015/05/09 | Left Canada, Whirlwind Iceland, Paris, Véloscénie | NA |
| 2 | 2015/05/10 - 2015/05/19 | Véloscénie | NA |
| 3 | 2015/05/20 - 2015/05-29 | Mt. St. Michel, Nantes, Loire à Vélo | NA |
| 4 | 2015/05/30 - 2015/06/08 | Loire à Vélo, Rhine Route | NA |
| 5 | 2015/06/09 - 2015/06/18 | Rhine Route, Ireland | Sandie |
| 6 | 2015/06/19 - 2015/06/28 | Ireland, Scotland | Dawn |
| 7 | 2015/06/29 - 2015/07/08 | Scotland, England: Dorset | Dawn, Beth, Lorraine, Pip |
| 8 | 2015/07/09 - 2015/07/18 | Isle of Wight, Frankfurt | Beth, Lorraine, Pip |
| 9 | 2015/07/19 - 2015/07/28 | Black Forest Train, Danube Cycle Trail - Donaueschingen to Dillingen | Laura, Gabi |
| 10 | 2015/07/29 - 2015/08/07 | Danube Cycle Trail - Dillingen to Linz | Laura, Gabi |
| 11 | 2015/08/08 - 2015/08/17 | Danube Cycle Trail - Linz to Vienna, Vienna, Budapest, Kalocsa | Laura, Gabi, Michelle |
| 12 | 2015/08/18 - 2015/08/27 | Budapest, Nagykanizsa, Croatia: Čakovec, Varaždin, Krapina | NA |
| 13 | 2015/08/28 - 2015/09/06 | Croatia: Krapina, Zaprešić, Jastrebarsko, Belavići and area, and then to Ogulin where Brent's "Traveler Tummy" got the better of him. | NA |
| 14 | 2015/09/07 - 2015/09/16 | Croatia: Sick days in Ogulin, train to Rijeka, first taste of Istria: Opatija, Medveja, Mount Učka, Lovran, Labin. | NA |
| 15 | 2015/09/17 - 2015/09/26 | Croatia (Istria): Labin, Marčana, Premantura, Kamenjak, Pula, Rovinj, Novigrad, Monkodonja, Kanfanar. | NA |
| 16 | 2015/09/27 - 2015/10/06 | Croatia: Kršan, Lovran, Rijeka. Ditched our bikes/gear. Zadar, Plitvice, Split. | NA |
| 17 | 2015/10/07 - 2015/10/16 | Dubrovnik (Croatia), Sarajevo (Bosnia) and Cappadocia (Turkey). | NA |
| 18 | 2015/10/17 - 2015/10/26 | Cappadocia (Turkey) and train journey: Venice, Innsbruck, Luzern, Geneve, Bruges. | NA |
| 19 | 2015/10/27 - 2015/10/31 | End of trip: Bruges, Dublin, Paris, home. | NA |
Sunday, August 30, 2015
Epic European Cycle - Blog Quick Links
In 2015, Brent and I spent six months cycle touring in Europe. The trip is extensively chronicled on http://www.damdetails.com/calendar/trips/1. This page just provides some quick links to the Trip Log page.
Sunday, July 5, 2015
Air BnB: Three Out of Five Ain't Good Enough
I first heard about Air BnB when I was doing some planning for our big trip to Europe. I thought it was a great idea and I was keen to try it out. I love the grassroots and cowboy things, especially if I end up having a nicer time for a cheaper price.
Our first two nights in Paris were with a gal named Maguy. A few days later we stayed in Chartres with Peggy. At the end of our time in Frankfurt we spent two nights with a gal named Jessica. They were all fantastic experiences and I'm glad we had them. They, unfortunately, are not why I decided to write this article.
At the time of this writing, we've had a total of five experiences with Air BnB, two of which have been quite horrible. We have one more reservation with them coming up, and I'm confident that it will be great, but even if it is, a track record of 2/3 fantastic and 1/3 horrible, is just not good enough and I won't be using Air BnB anymore. My friend, Linda, says she never uses unregulated services like this. In this case, I'm going to have to concede... no more "coyboy way" for me when booking accommodation.
Anyway, without any further adieu, let me share with you the two horrible experiences.
The first one was with a lady, Maryline, in Alençon France. I was still getting used to cycle touring, and we had very brief moments of WiFi access along the way, so I was less detail-oriented than usual. I found Maryline's place in Alençon on Air BnB, and followed their procedure to "Request to Stay". It was advertised as an apartment, including ensuite, small kitchen, and free WiFi. I speak very little French, and Maryline spoke about as much English, so we had some challenges communicating via e-mail, but thanks to online translators, we did alright. She accepted my request with a note that she "has an opportunity to put us in a room at such-and-such address, and Sebastien would be there to meet us". Here's where I missed a really key detail. It never for a second occurred to me that she would accept my request and then put me in a property that was NOT what she had advertised.
As our stay in Alençon approached, I wrote down the address of the property as advertised on Air BnB, plus Maryline and Sebastien's phone numbers, on our little "cheat sheet" for the day. The property was a little difficult to find, and I hadn't yet gotten into the habit of saving screen shots of Google Maps on my hard drive, so we had to find a cafe with free WiFi so I could look it up.
We finally found the place, and it looked like a quaint little hostel, except for the fact that it was completely empty and somewhat abandoned looking. The front door was unlocked, so I went in and called out, but no one answered. We decided that maybe we were too early, so we went down the street to a restaurant to wait, have a beverage, and use their WiFi. Brent walked down the block a couple of times to check for someone, and found that, now, the door was locked and he couldn't get in anymore. That was odd.
By about 6PM, we knew something more was wrong, so I tried to call Sebastien. He spoke no English at all, and I couldn't make myself understood in French. Brent had noticed a guy hanging around the property and struck up a conversation with him. He knew Maryline and Sebastien. Brent called Maryline and put the guy on the phone with her. This was when we discovered that we were at the wrong property. When Maryline said she "had an opportunity to put me in a room at such-and-such..." what she meant was, I'm passing you off to my colleague, Sebastien, who has a flophouse that you can stay in.
Brent got the address of Sebastien's place and went over there, then the two of them came back to collect me. We went over there, but the property was awful. He has cats living there, and the whole place reeked of cat litter. I'm asthmatic and highly allergic to cats. The guy took us up to the top floor to the room we were to stay in. It was a small, horrible room with two horrible beds in it. No bathroom - the home only has a shared bathroom. No WiFi. And we were supposed to stay there for the same price that I'd booked an apartment for.
I started to have trouble breathing right away and I told the guy about my asthma and allergies. It took a bit of "Frenglish" and charades to get him to understand, but he finally got it and he was really nice about it. He placed a phone call to Maryline. After some heated discussion, he said that they decided to put us over in Maryline's property, so back the three of us went to the original place.
Maryline's property would be really nice when it's in operation. But it wasn't in operation. Our room/apartment was ok, except the bathroom had an overwhelming paint smell, and no hot water. The kitchen had old, withered produce on the counter as thought it had just been abandoned there weeks, or months, earlier, for the "off season". The building seemed to be under renovation, or seasonal maintenace or something. There was no WiFi and no other people in the place.
I couldn't figure out what had happened. I thought it had to have been some kind of unfortunate mistake and maybe her property was listed accidentally, and then when she got a request from me, she felt compelled to try and honor it.
This is one of the flaws of the Air BnB system: If a host declines a request, they get penalized. So they always accept. But, if you request to stay with someone and they accept, then YOU decline, you get charged a service fee. It puts everyone into a big game of "chicken" with their money and reputations. If something isn't right, everyone is compelled to stick with it anyway because of the consequences of declining and canceling.
I pondered what happened for a while, certain it had to be a mistake. Brent was convinced that it was a deliberate "bait and switch". Then I read further back in her Air BnB feedback than I had before, and I discovered that... she'd done the exact same thing before to someone else! She's advertising a property that isn't available/liveable, and sending people over to a guy who gives people a bedroom in a flophouse that reeks of cat litter! Sadly, Brent was right. Deliberate "bait and switch".
I left feedback for her that what she was doing was NOT ok. In the "private feedback" to Air BnB I told them what happened, but I never heard back from anyone at all.
The host, Carolina, seemed new to Air BnB... I think she'd only received one feedback previously, but it was important to me to be near Dawn so that it wouldn't be a big huge hassle for us to stay someplace different from her. Carolina seemed very nice and accommodating, and even offered to get me some kind of cool box when I asked about a fridge to use (which she doesn't have).
A few days before we were due to arrive, I sent Carolina a note asking what time would be good for us to arrive. I advised her that we were going to have sketchy access to WiFi and she might not hear from me right away. I didn't get a response.
On the day we were due to arrive, I messaged Carolina again in the morning, asking what time she'd like us to arrive. We then went out for our day of "castling" and sight-seeing with Dawn. We got to Edinburgh before 5:00 and went to Dawn's place. She discovered that she'd inadvertently booked herself an entire 9-person dorm. I said it was too bad I'd already paid for a place, otherwise we'd bunk in with her! Then, I got on the WiFi and checked for messages from Carolina.
There were three message from her. In one she suggests arriving at noon, and in another one she asked me to text her when we were 30 minutes away. I texted her immediately and asked if we could come over now. She texted back saying that she's been waiting for a reply from me since 8:30AM, and when she didn't hear from me by 3PM she left town and "sorry". She offered to give me the phone number of a hostel.
I cancelled my reservation, but Air BnB still billed me for two of the three nights (because I cancelled). I contacted Carolina back, asking her to process a refund on her side. No answer. Several hours later, I messaged her again asking her to issue a refund. No answer.
So, I contacted Air BnB about it. My first rep advised that since I had cancelled late, it was correct that I be charged for two of the three nights. I wrote back to clarify the situation and asked for further assistance. After learning the details, she agreed that more assistance was in order, and she said she'd pass me along to another department to help. When I hadn't heard back in another two days, I followed up, and got an immediate reply from another rep asking for supporting documentation, and advising that he'd have to hear both sides of the story to come to a resolution (naturally). I sent him all the messages and texts.
A day later he contacted me again and processed a full refund. He also said that, because my phone wasn't working propery (I can send and receive texts, and receive phone calls, I just can't place phone calls), he couldn't place 100% of the blame on the host. WTF!? It's ok for a host to skip out at 3PM on arrival date if the guest can't place a phone call? You've got to be kidding me.
So, even though Air BnB has given me a refund, I do not consider this to be a good experience. I was left high-and-dry without a place to stay (actually, it was just a stroke of luck that Dawn had booked a dorm... we bunked in with her for the first two nights), and with 2/3 of my money gone (until I fought to get it back). And Air BnB "couldn't assign blame to the host".
From these two experiences it seems to me that, although Air BnB is a great idea, there are too many people out there who are more than happy to use the service to rip other people off. I'm sure that hosts have lots of horror stories about bad guests, too... I'm not saying the hosts are bad and guests are all innocent victims - far from it (it hasn't been that long since the people in Calgary had their place completely trashed by a bad Air BnB guest). I'm just saying that, like Linda said, an unregulated service leaves people open to being taken advantage of by the unscrupulous. I'll stick with Booking.com in future. I've not had anything like a bad experience with them. It's all very regulated and professional and civilized with no unscrupulous cowboys to be seen.
I did a quick search for Air BnB horror stories and found Air BnB Hell. Some of the horror stories listed by hosts are truly frightening. I had briefly considered doing the Air BnB thing down the road after we've moved to Vernon, but after reading these, and after my experiences as a guest, that's not going to happen!
Our first two nights in Paris were with a gal named Maguy. A few days later we stayed in Chartres with Peggy. At the end of our time in Frankfurt we spent two nights with a gal named Jessica. They were all fantastic experiences and I'm glad we had them. They, unfortunately, are not why I decided to write this article.
At the time of this writing, we've had a total of five experiences with Air BnB, two of which have been quite horrible. We have one more reservation with them coming up, and I'm confident that it will be great, but even if it is, a track record of 2/3 fantastic and 1/3 horrible, is just not good enough and I won't be using Air BnB anymore. My friend, Linda, says she never uses unregulated services like this. In this case, I'm going to have to concede... no more "coyboy way" for me when booking accommodation.
Anyway, without any further adieu, let me share with you the two horrible experiences.
EXPERIENCE #1: Alençon
The first one was with a lady, Maryline, in Alençon France. I was still getting used to cycle touring, and we had very brief moments of WiFi access along the way, so I was less detail-oriented than usual. I found Maryline's place in Alençon on Air BnB, and followed their procedure to "Request to Stay". It was advertised as an apartment, including ensuite, small kitchen, and free WiFi. I speak very little French, and Maryline spoke about as much English, so we had some challenges communicating via e-mail, but thanks to online translators, we did alright. She accepted my request with a note that she "has an opportunity to put us in a room at such-and-such address, and Sebastien would be there to meet us". Here's where I missed a really key detail. It never for a second occurred to me that she would accept my request and then put me in a property that was NOT what she had advertised.
As our stay in Alençon approached, I wrote down the address of the property as advertised on Air BnB, plus Maryline and Sebastien's phone numbers, on our little "cheat sheet" for the day. The property was a little difficult to find, and I hadn't yet gotten into the habit of saving screen shots of Google Maps on my hard drive, so we had to find a cafe with free WiFi so I could look it up.
We finally found the place, and it looked like a quaint little hostel, except for the fact that it was completely empty and somewhat abandoned looking. The front door was unlocked, so I went in and called out, but no one answered. We decided that maybe we were too early, so we went down the street to a restaurant to wait, have a beverage, and use their WiFi. Brent walked down the block a couple of times to check for someone, and found that, now, the door was locked and he couldn't get in anymore. That was odd.
By about 6PM, we knew something more was wrong, so I tried to call Sebastien. He spoke no English at all, and I couldn't make myself understood in French. Brent had noticed a guy hanging around the property and struck up a conversation with him. He knew Maryline and Sebastien. Brent called Maryline and put the guy on the phone with her. This was when we discovered that we were at the wrong property. When Maryline said she "had an opportunity to put me in a room at such-and-such..." what she meant was, I'm passing you off to my colleague, Sebastien, who has a flophouse that you can stay in.
Brent got the address of Sebastien's place and went over there, then the two of them came back to collect me. We went over there, but the property was awful. He has cats living there, and the whole place reeked of cat litter. I'm asthmatic and highly allergic to cats. The guy took us up to the top floor to the room we were to stay in. It was a small, horrible room with two horrible beds in it. No bathroom - the home only has a shared bathroom. No WiFi. And we were supposed to stay there for the same price that I'd booked an apartment for.
I started to have trouble breathing right away and I told the guy about my asthma and allergies. It took a bit of "Frenglish" and charades to get him to understand, but he finally got it and he was really nice about it. He placed a phone call to Maryline. After some heated discussion, he said that they decided to put us over in Maryline's property, so back the three of us went to the original place.
Maryline's property would be really nice when it's in operation. But it wasn't in operation. Our room/apartment was ok, except the bathroom had an overwhelming paint smell, and no hot water. The kitchen had old, withered produce on the counter as thought it had just been abandoned there weeks, or months, earlier, for the "off season". The building seemed to be under renovation, or seasonal maintenace or something. There was no WiFi and no other people in the place.
I couldn't figure out what had happened. I thought it had to have been some kind of unfortunate mistake and maybe her property was listed accidentally, and then when she got a request from me, she felt compelled to try and honor it.
This is one of the flaws of the Air BnB system: If a host declines a request, they get penalized. So they always accept. But, if you request to stay with someone and they accept, then YOU decline, you get charged a service fee. It puts everyone into a big game of "chicken" with their money and reputations. If something isn't right, everyone is compelled to stick with it anyway because of the consequences of declining and canceling.
I pondered what happened for a while, certain it had to be a mistake. Brent was convinced that it was a deliberate "bait and switch". Then I read further back in her Air BnB feedback than I had before, and I discovered that... she'd done the exact same thing before to someone else! She's advertising a property that isn't available/liveable, and sending people over to a guy who gives people a bedroom in a flophouse that reeks of cat litter! Sadly, Brent was right. Deliberate "bait and switch".
I left feedback for her that what she was doing was NOT ok. In the "private feedback" to Air BnB I told them what happened, but I never heard back from anyone at all.
EXPERIENCE #2: Edinburgh
Dawn came to visit us in Scotland, and booked herself into an expensive place for the days we were to be in Edinburgh. She sent me the link for the place, but I didn't want to pay the kind of price she was paying so I looked for something else relatively near where she was. She was on Cowgate, which is just off the Royal Mile, and I was fortunate to find a place also on Cowgate.The host, Carolina, seemed new to Air BnB... I think she'd only received one feedback previously, but it was important to me to be near Dawn so that it wouldn't be a big huge hassle for us to stay someplace different from her. Carolina seemed very nice and accommodating, and even offered to get me some kind of cool box when I asked about a fridge to use (which she doesn't have).
A few days before we were due to arrive, I sent Carolina a note asking what time would be good for us to arrive. I advised her that we were going to have sketchy access to WiFi and she might not hear from me right away. I didn't get a response.
On the day we were due to arrive, I messaged Carolina again in the morning, asking what time she'd like us to arrive. We then went out for our day of "castling" and sight-seeing with Dawn. We got to Edinburgh before 5:00 and went to Dawn's place. She discovered that she'd inadvertently booked herself an entire 9-person dorm. I said it was too bad I'd already paid for a place, otherwise we'd bunk in with her! Then, I got on the WiFi and checked for messages from Carolina.
There were three message from her. In one she suggests arriving at noon, and in another one she asked me to text her when we were 30 minutes away. I texted her immediately and asked if we could come over now. She texted back saying that she's been waiting for a reply from me since 8:30AM, and when she didn't hear from me by 3PM she left town and "sorry". She offered to give me the phone number of a hostel.
I cancelled my reservation, but Air BnB still billed me for two of the three nights (because I cancelled). I contacted Carolina back, asking her to process a refund on her side. No answer. Several hours later, I messaged her again asking her to issue a refund. No answer.
So, I contacted Air BnB about it. My first rep advised that since I had cancelled late, it was correct that I be charged for two of the three nights. I wrote back to clarify the situation and asked for further assistance. After learning the details, she agreed that more assistance was in order, and she said she'd pass me along to another department to help. When I hadn't heard back in another two days, I followed up, and got an immediate reply from another rep asking for supporting documentation, and advising that he'd have to hear both sides of the story to come to a resolution (naturally). I sent him all the messages and texts.
A day later he contacted me again and processed a full refund. He also said that, because my phone wasn't working propery (I can send and receive texts, and receive phone calls, I just can't place phone calls), he couldn't place 100% of the blame on the host. WTF!? It's ok for a host to skip out at 3PM on arrival date if the guest can't place a phone call? You've got to be kidding me.
So, even though Air BnB has given me a refund, I do not consider this to be a good experience. I was left high-and-dry without a place to stay (actually, it was just a stroke of luck that Dawn had booked a dorm... we bunked in with her for the first two nights), and with 2/3 of my money gone (until I fought to get it back). And Air BnB "couldn't assign blame to the host".
From these two experiences it seems to me that, although Air BnB is a great idea, there are too many people out there who are more than happy to use the service to rip other people off. I'm sure that hosts have lots of horror stories about bad guests, too... I'm not saying the hosts are bad and guests are all innocent victims - far from it (it hasn't been that long since the people in Calgary had their place completely trashed by a bad Air BnB guest). I'm just saying that, like Linda said, an unregulated service leaves people open to being taken advantage of by the unscrupulous. I'll stick with Booking.com in future. I've not had anything like a bad experience with them. It's all very regulated and professional and civilized with no unscrupulous cowboys to be seen.
I did a quick search for Air BnB horror stories and found Air BnB Hell. Some of the horror stories listed by hosts are truly frightening. I had briefly considered doing the Air BnB thing down the road after we've moved to Vernon, but after reading these, and after my experiences as a guest, that's not going to happen!
Thursday, April 2, 2015
pStyle Pitfalls
When I started this blog, it was supposed to be about various (mis)adventures in the Rockies. It was never my intention to start a "running monolog" about peeing standing up, yet here I am, writing for the fourth time about just that very topic.
Since my last "peeing standing up" post in November of 2010, I have been merrily using my handy pStyle for peeing standing up in a variety of situations, including outdoors, in the snow, and in nasty stinky outhouses. I have recommended pStyles to a number of friends, and a number of my friends are now merrily peeing standing up with their handy pStyles as well.
But I have to be honest. All is not complete bliss with a pStyle. If you're going to use one of these, you should watch out for the following pitfalls which I have been generous enough to discover for you so that you don't have to experience them yourself.
Pitfall #1: Bearing down too hard. One time, I had waited a little too long to pull off the trail and take care of nature's business. By the time I started peeing I REALLY had to go and I bore down quote hard, which caused my pee to overflow the sides of the pStyle "trough". If you're using a pStyle, no matter how bad you have to go, take it easy and pee slowly and in a civilized manner. None of this "RAAAHHHH! I have to pee so bad!" pushing as if your life depends on it.
Pitfall #2: Inadequate tilt. This sounds like it should go without saying, but make sure that, when you're using your pStyle, you have tilted it down, away from yourself, an adequate amount. One time on a hike I pulled off behind a rock to have a pee but I did not feel that I had complete privacy in my chosen location. I didn't want to pull my pants down too far, so I left them higher than usual as I did my thing. Having my pants up higher, though, caused the pStyle to either be completely level (and not drain), or, it may have even been tilted a little in the wrong direction - towards myself. Regardless of exactly how it happened, the result was the same. Pee in my clothing instead of on the ground where I'd intended to put it.
Pitfall #3: Peeing in public with your "mudstache" on. OK, this isn't really a pitfall, and it wasn't really my experience. This happened to a friend of mine who shall remain nameless *cough*Marg*cough*. When we were hiking the West Coast Trail, a few of us decided to make ourselves facial hair out of the ample mud to be found on that trail. On that trail, it is impossible to pull off into the trees to go pee - the rainforest is simply too thick and treacherous for leaving the trail to hide - so one must find other ways to gain privacy, for example, finding a bend in the trail and hoping no other hikers come upon you while you quickly do your business. My friend had stepped away with her pStyle (and her mudstache), but before she was finished, another group of hikers DID come along and busted her in the act. I'm sure they have a great story to tell about seeing a Canadian woman with a moustache peeing standing up on their West Coast Trail hike.
In the four-and-a-half years since I started using the pStyle, these are the only pitfalls I've discovered. That's a pretty great track record, especially considering how much I use it. Go ahead... pee standing up. Just remember to be careful out there.
See my previous "peeing standing up" posts:
Since my last "peeing standing up" post in November of 2010, I have been merrily using my handy pStyle for peeing standing up in a variety of situations, including outdoors, in the snow, and in nasty stinky outhouses. I have recommended pStyles to a number of friends, and a number of my friends are now merrily peeing standing up with their handy pStyles as well.
But I have to be honest. All is not complete bliss with a pStyle. If you're going to use one of these, you should watch out for the following pitfalls which I have been generous enough to discover for you so that you don't have to experience them yourself.
Pitfall #1: Bearing down too hard. One time, I had waited a little too long to pull off the trail and take care of nature's business. By the time I started peeing I REALLY had to go and I bore down quote hard, which caused my pee to overflow the sides of the pStyle "trough". If you're using a pStyle, no matter how bad you have to go, take it easy and pee slowly and in a civilized manner. None of this "RAAAHHHH! I have to pee so bad!" pushing as if your life depends on it.
Pitfall #2: Inadequate tilt. This sounds like it should go without saying, but make sure that, when you're using your pStyle, you have tilted it down, away from yourself, an adequate amount. One time on a hike I pulled off behind a rock to have a pee but I did not feel that I had complete privacy in my chosen location. I didn't want to pull my pants down too far, so I left them higher than usual as I did my thing. Having my pants up higher, though, caused the pStyle to either be completely level (and not drain), or, it may have even been tilted a little in the wrong direction - towards myself. Regardless of exactly how it happened, the result was the same. Pee in my clothing instead of on the ground where I'd intended to put it.
Pitfall #3: Peeing in public with your "mudstache" on. OK, this isn't really a pitfall, and it wasn't really my experience. This happened to a friend of mine who shall remain nameless *cough*Marg*cough*. When we were hiking the West Coast Trail, a few of us decided to make ourselves facial hair out of the ample mud to be found on that trail. On that trail, it is impossible to pull off into the trees to go pee - the rainforest is simply too thick and treacherous for leaving the trail to hide - so one must find other ways to gain privacy, for example, finding a bend in the trail and hoping no other hikers come upon you while you quickly do your business. My friend had stepped away with her pStyle (and her mudstache), but before she was finished, another group of hikers DID come along and busted her in the act. I'm sure they have a great story to tell about seeing a Canadian woman with a moustache peeing standing up on their West Coast Trail hike.
In the four-and-a-half years since I started using the pStyle, these are the only pitfalls I've discovered. That's a pretty great track record, especially considering how much I use it. Go ahead... pee standing up. Just remember to be careful out there.
See my previous "peeing standing up" posts:
Wednesday, July 23, 2014
Pooping in the Woods - Not as "Easy" as it Sounds
In keeping with my unintentional "theme" about nature break adventures, this entry is about how to deal when you camp in a rustic place that doesn't even have outhouses.
Really? Do I not have anything better to talk about than pooping in the woods? Since I've devoted THREE entries to peeing standing up, clearly, I do not.
Lots of outdoor folks on the 'net talk about poopin' in the woods like it's straight-forward and simple, and if you could just suck it up and be less of a princess, it's really no problem. There are lots of blogs:
- How to Poop in the Woods by A Mountain Top High.
- Guide to Going Number Two from Climbing.com.
- How to Defacate Outdoors from wikiHow - covers a variety of terrain.
- How to Shit in the Woods by Camping-Expert.com. I like their very first sentence: "If facilities exist, use facilities in the area. Pooping on a toilet is ALWAYS better than pooping in the woods."
Although I am happy for these writers that they find no difficulty in this task, I have not been able to join them in their attitude and enthusiasm. Judging by the available products on the 'net for dealing with this conundrum, I think I'm not the only one.
Apparently, the first step to a successful backcountry movement is to find the perfect location. Something that is:
- Discrete (sheltered from offending others); AND
- Safe (think... bear encounter with... ahem... your pants down); AND
- Is far away from your camp; AND
- Is far away from any water sources
I feel a compromise coming on.
Step two: dig a hole. Uhhh... really? I have nothing against carrying the required shovel for the job - you can take a small one for backpacking, or a larger one for car camping - but I have found that the ground in the places I've camped to be more than a little resistant to letting me dig a 6" deep repository. The ground is generally hard packed and so full of tree roots that digging said repository is near impossible without causing injury to yourself, or the trees.
From there, I actually find the whole job easier. "Go" in the hole. Check. Bury it. Check. Pack out the toilet paper. Check (have ziplock, will travel).
The first time I had to face truly rustic conditions was at a lovely hidden campsite west of Nordegg, Alberta. I was prepared - I'd read lots about how to get by without indoor plumbing, or even a nasty wooden long-drop, and I'd brought the required gear.
Shortly after arrival, I discovered that a group who had been there before us had constructed a make-shift toilet in the woods, and I thought GREAT! I/we can use that and not have to deal with the tasks of finding the location and digging the hole.
Wrong. I was wrong. Upon closer inspection, the makeshift toilet actually had left-behind poop AND TOILET PAPER... just sitting there right on the ground. I applaud them for building the facility, but really... you can't leave everything just sitting around on the ground. How disgusting.
I never did use that "toilet", but in the spirit of leaving the backcountry in better shape than I'd found it in, I did bury their poop and pack out their toilet paper. Oh yes. Yes, I did that.
After discovering that pooping in the woods is really not so "easy" as it's made out to be, I decided that I needed some other kind of solution (since I was planning a return to that place with my friends).
I don't know yet what I'll do for the situation while backpacking. I will probably stick to areas with outhouses and/or muddle through with the recommended processes.
But for car camping.... my new best friend is my Cleanwaste Portable Toilet (slogan: "Don't take a crap on mother nature").
It's not without issues, by any means:
- The lid doesn't stay on. The picture makes it look like the lid stays on like on a regular toilet, which would afford perhaps a little shelter. Forget about it. It falls right off.
- It's a little tippy. There's only one leg in the front so you have to be careful about moving aorund and getting off.
- I rankle at spending $140+ on a companion shelter, so I rigged my own shelter out of a hanging clothes dryer (sort of like this) and a shower curtain from the Dollar Store.
- There is an enormous amount of plastic waste created when using the companion "Waste Bag Kit" or "Toilet in a Bag" products so my plan is to experiment with lighter-footprint options... lighter/smaller plastic bags and cat litter... or some such.
Challenges notwithstanding, I am thrilled to have this option available for car camping. And, I know I will be the envy of my location-finding, hole-digging friends when the time comes to tackle that rustic camping again.
Sunday, September 9, 2012
Happy Hollows
TMI Alert! (Too Much
Information) If you don’t want it, save
yourself – run away now.
I rode 60km yesterday, which took me four hours of moving
time… aka time in the saddle. I note
this as an achievement because today I have happy hollows, which is a really
big deal for me.
Hollows? You know…
the dents in between where my legs attach to my bacons. BACONS??
Well… my pal, Nancy, said to me that cycling makes
her bacons sore. I don’t know exactly
what she meant… I didn’t ask for clarification, but I can guess, and you know
that now that I’ve heard it, I will have to use it… incessantly.
I started riding a bicycle in a serious way about three and
a half years ago, when I started training to do the Golden Triangle with
Brent. I didn’t start having problems
with my hollows immediately, but sometime in the summer of 2010, when I was
commuting to work on the bicycle and riding recreationally outside of that, I
started having hollow problems. I got a
small red bump in one of my hollows, and the more I rode, the more that red
bump hurt. As the summer progressed, I
got another red bump on my other hollow.
The cycle season eventually slowed down, and as I cycled less, my red
bumps went away.
In early 2011, Brent and I went to Australia and did some
cycling over there. The initial red bump
reappeared. We came back to Canada and
it took several weeks before I could start riding to work, and in the meantime
the red bump subsided. As my commute
routine became… well… routine that summer, the red bumps came back with a
vengeance, making it quite painful to cycle at all. Finally I couldn’t ignore the problem anymore
and I went to see my doctor about it. He
was extremely helpful… shrugging and referring me to a dermatologist, who took
weeks to get in to see. The
dermatologist was equally helpful. He
was a young fella, really not comfortable talking about the bumps in my hollows
near my bacons, and really didn’t have any relevant thoughts on what they were,
so he prescribed me some antibiotic cream for the bumps and sent me on my way. I used the antibiotic, and took to washing my
hollows with rubbing alcohol every time I rode when I wasn’t going to take a
shower immediately following. These
things did nothing to help.
This year, I haven’t been able to commute a lot because of
the afternoon rains, but for the first part of the summer we cycled a lot in
training for our ride from Jasper to Banff, which we completed a few weekends
ago. The red bumps came back. Of course.
I knew that they would be a problem for the ride, but I was at a loss
for what to do about them. We did the
ride, and the original red bump site went absolutely nuts. We rode 40km, then 109km, then 93km and by
the end of the third day, the red bump was the size of a marble… swollen and
sore… and every time I pedaled the bike, it just about blew the top of my head
off with pain. I hoped I’d be able to
finish the ride on day 4, had a good shower at the Lake Louise hostel and
tended to the red bump. I had Brent
check out the red bump for me so he could advise as to whether I should ride
with it or not. He decided that it may
very well be a varicose vein or some kind of blood or lymph blockage, which
could be quite dangerous and I should see my doctor about it pronto… and maybe not
ride on day 4.
I am kind of stubborn (I know, that’s hard for some of you
to believe… I mean those of you who don’t know me at all) and I really wanted
to ride on day 4, so the next day I got up and got on the bicycle. I made it for 30 of the intended 60km for
that day before I had to quit.
I was really reluctant to go back to the shrugging doctor
and the shrinking dermatologist, in spite of Brent’s insistence. Finally it dawned on me that maybe I’m not
the only person on the planet who has had to deal with this problem (ok, I can be
stubborn AND slow) so I googled it.
Well, I googled “Saddle Sores” because I didn’t get any results
searching for “shrieking red bumps of torture on your hollows next to your
bacons”.
Voila. A treasure
trove of information because, hallelujah, I am NOT the only person on the
planet who has ever had to deal with this problem. The consensus seemed to be that I had started
with some folliculitis which then progressed to full-fledged boils. I had heard of boils before, but really only
as a child when my grandmother was telling a story about someone she knew who
had a hideous boil on their neck. I
found lovely photos of folliculitis and boils and… uh… yep. That’s what I had all right. Thanks, google… you win over the shrugging
doctor and the shrinking dermatologist.
I found lots of advice for solutions:
- Wear biking shorts without underwear. Lots of people (including Brent) had told me that before, but I had been stubbornly wearing underwear under my biking shorts because I have sensitive skin which reacts badly to the thread used in some biking shorts.
- Get a new saddle. I bought one from a mountain bike store which sells women’s saddles in two designs: one for racing posture and one for regular posture. The new saddle is longer and much narrower than my old saddle… and looks very uncomfortable, but surprise surprise, it’s not bad, and I get much less friction on my hollows from riding with it.
- Put moleskin on your area of irritation (ie. My hollows) to protect from friction while riding. I think the moleskin has been the thing that has helped the most.
Anyway, I had tried the new saddle for a couple of commutes,
but yesterday was the first ride of a distance which would call for biking
shorts or moleskin, so I tried them. I
was able to enjoy the ride and the day without even a single little poke from
the hollows.
Wish me luck. My
hollows are happy today, and I’m hoping I will have happy hollows now
forever. I hope I have the saddle sore
problem solved (geez… I almost said licked there… couldn’t do it... that would just be gross).
Sunday, August 19, 2012
Oh right... THIS is Why I Don't Highway Ride... aka "Bus Jam and Bear Jam and Camper Van... Oh My!"
Son-of-a-you-know-what, what exactly am I doing out here? Day 2, in spite of its physical challenges was very enjoyable. Today had lots and lots of wonderful moments, but I find myself forced to swear, once again, off of highway riding. After Australia, I swore never again. Brent has always maintained that the Alberta shoulders are way better than the Australian ones, and he has been proven right, but that does not explain the traffic on the Alberta highways.
Today was "only" about 95km. It's really interesting how a person's definition of "long" or "hard" or "steep" can inch its way, imperceptibly, forward until you find yourself "meh"ing things off that should, by rights, scare the beejeebers out of you. 110km including Sunwapta Pass... GAH!!! But hey, only 95km, and the worst of it was 5km of 4.2% grade uphill, and 7km of 4.5% grade. Now that's an easy day for you.
Or... it should have been. It's the traffic. Oh my... the traffic. That's the killer for me every single time. It killed me in Australia, and it killed me today on the Icefields Parkway. Thankfully, not literally, although it was not for lack of trying.
First of all, there was the final push up to Bow Summit (that was the 7km / 4.5% grade section). I could have ridden that one (unlike Sunwapta Pass) with occasional breaks, but I chose not to. About 6km of the 7km uphill has a passing lane on the uphill side, which uses up enough of the road to leave the shoulder virtually non-existent. I was riding, steadily, up that long sucker, when I got caught in a bus jam. We were on the inside of a turn, which meant that the Greyhound-sized Winnebago that was in the right-lane didn't see us until it was pretty much on top of us, and blocked in by the other Greyhound-sized Winnebagos and other campers that were passing it on the left. It flew past me with maybe 8" to spare between it and my bicycle. I admit I yelled out in terror, but at least I didn't bail off the bike into the rocks and trees that were my next stop off the road. I rode for a short time after that, but as my "near miss" sunk into me, I got scared enough that I got off the bike and pushed up most of the rest of the hill so that I could keep a close eye on the traffic behind me and easily bail off the side if I had to. I guess a steep hill up with a narrow shoulder is my nemesis... the steep hill with a sufficient shoulder... sure, I could ride that. But take away my shoulder and I'm done. Done, I tell you.
Once I reached the top of Bow Summit, I was on again. Good to ride. Bow Summit to Lake Louise is mostly downhill, and, as has been established, I am a "downhill demon". I still touch the brakes now and then when I get going a little beyond the comfort zone, but that is happening less and less.
My next terror was the bear jam. Actually, it was more of an annoyance than an actual terror. We got to a section of highway (yes, yes, tourists, I must remind you it is a HIGHWAY) where there were about 30 vehicles parked on the side of the HIGHWAY with people wandering all over, most of them trying to fire off the perfect photo of the little black bear nibbling on a tree in the ditch. The traffic was virtually stopped on the road, as opposed to the cars on the side of the road which were completely stopped, so the cars had to brake suddenly, and some of them decided to cut in front of me to join the bear jam, while others decided to eschew the bear jam (probably shaking their heads, as I was, at the folks stopped who are willing to risk any danger to themselves, the people around them, and the bear in the ditch, to fire off that perfect photograph). As we joined the traffic wending its way slowly through the bear jam, a parked car from the bear jam decided that, just as it was beside me, was the perfect time to re-join the flow on the road (naturally, without looking). Good grief people.
The clincher for me, though, was in the final stretch of our ride... about 15km from the end, when the road was open, the sun was shining, we were mostly coasting downhill, and there was absolutely no... and I mean NO... reason for a camper to be on the shoulder as it passed a couple of cyclists, when one did just that. There was plenty of room in the lane... and plenty of room in the open oncoming lane for that matter, to give us a wide berth as they passed, but no... they came over onto the shoulder to "buzz" us as they passed. The highway is no place for a cyclist. At least not THIS cyclist.
I find myself... AGAIN... swearing off of highway riding (sorry Brent). However... tomorrow isn't a highway ride... it's Bow Valley Parkway (speed limit 40) from Lake Louise to Banff. Will I ride it? Only me and my obnoxious saddle sore know. Oh no... don't get me started about the saddle sore.
Sun-Kicked-My-Ass
Sunwapta Pass = Sun-kicked-my-ass. 110km today and the unbelievable hill from hell. I couldn't do it. I had to get off part way up the pass and push my bike up for... oh... probably close to 2km. Part of my problem, though, was that the shoulder was super narrow and I was moving so slowly that if I wobbled around at all I could fall into traffic, so I felt safer pushing rather than riding. More than half of my companions pushed at least part of the way as well. It was a long and tough day, but I'm super happy to report that the shoulders have, for the most part, been great, and the traffic, for the most part, has been very very cycle-conscious and considerate. I appear to have almost lost my fear of speed on a bicycle... my top speed coming down the other side of Sun-kicked-my-ass was... ahem... 67 KM PER HOUR!!! I rocked that downhill!! Rampart Creek Hostel is very nice, but I am cursed by technology. Athabasca Falls had power but no internet, and Rampart has internet but no power. *sigh* I must wait another day to share all of my important thoughts with the world. The special moment of the day was when the very large grizzly ran across the highway a ways in front of us... maybe about 30m or so. The motorcyclists in front of us had to brake for it, but we just got to see it unfold right in front of us. It was really spectacular (but I was happy when it was gone).
Ben is an amazing support driver. He leapfrogs the group, keeping an eye on the slowest folks *ahem* but also setting up several breaks and meal stops along the road on the way. At the end of the break, we will ride off while Ben packs all of our food and such away, and then he'll proceed on past us to the next checkpoint. I wave, and Ben gives a quick flash of the brake lights. Every single time we would pull in for a rest stop, he'd give me a cheezy word of encouragement about how awesome I was doing... but the cheese is completely irrelevant. Those words of encouragement are worth their weight in gold and really did help me keep going on the times when I considered not.
And Brent. My goodness, Brent is an amazing companion. I think it's pretty clear that I enjoy his company... but no matter how slow or scared I am, he sticks with me. Just being his wonderful Brenty self. Brent, I love you completely.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
