6/8/2014 Altamira to Igarapé Panelas
D28, T2 Av14, max59, 31600/6067
Hot and high humidity
Up early to ring NZ, as my dad is not too well, all is reasonably good with him. It was then a wander into town to get a few things. Honey has been hard to find, the biggest supermarket did not stock it. Finally, some was found at one of the many small markets in town.
Altamira is a boomtown, it is busy, most motels are full, everyone is benefiting from the building of the Belo Monte dam.
I was told, it is going to take another 4 years. Finally, a departure was made from the hotel at 1030. The young guy in the fruit shop told me there was asphalt all the way to Medicilandia, more good news.
Once on the road, the humidity was up around 100% after last nights downpour.
The hills were gentle and not being in any kind of hurry, all was good.
At 1230, the turn of to Igarapé Panelas was arrived at. There was a bar come loja on the corner of the gravel turnoff.
Here two woman in their late forties were chatting. A large bottle of Guaraná was bought. One of the women was the owner and the other, after 5 or 10 minutes was observed to be totally smashed on rum.
Most people I meet think I’m an Argentino, probably because my Spanish is so bad!
Anyway, this woman was waffling on, not believing I was Australian, slurring every word. The owner and I looked at each other and she knew I had figured out the womans situation.
It was a good time to move on.
My plan was to have a relaxing day camping down by this lake. Afterall, it was my birthday. The motel scene in Altamira was outside my budget. It was time to move on. Infact all prices were inflated in the town. It reminded me of Calama in Northern Chile, near the worlds biggest copper mine.
I asked about directions, the dirt road led me through a little settlement and past a school. Here my water was topped up for the night and spent time talking to all the kids as best I could.
A teacher there understood some Spanish.
Following nothing but a track which led me down to the rufous waters of the stump filled lake. It was a place not very conducive to camping.
Wandering back to the bike, another track was taken, this led to a house.
A middle aged guy without a shirt came out to greet me. Telling him, I was looking for a place to camp. He told me to come with him. All down the tracks here there were cacao trees growing. He had 125 acres under the valuable crop. We went down to the lakefront at his place. It was great he had a few hammocks up, with a bbq area of clean earth looking out over the lake.
He said there were Jacaré in the waters but they were not such a problem.
He said he would take me to a friend of his place up the track by the lake. He was from Altamira and only used it occasionally.
Once coming out of the bush track we came upon a cleared area and a quaint little wooden shelter with a lounge under the roof overlooking an arm of the lake.
He said I could camp hare the night.
It was absolute bliss, birds everywhere, lovely views, fish breaking the rippled water and totally private. Other properties were in the bush across the water. Though I could only hear voices, not see the dwellings.
The palm fringed shores concealed things beyond the riparian zone.
A cup of coffee was made and a great sleep was enjoyed on the lounge.
Before dinner, a fisherman in a canoe went past. Yelling out, he was asked, if fish could be bought from him on the way back.
He said no problems. Soon he returned and said, nada. So, the pasta had to suffice for dinner. He said he might have fish early in the morning. That would be nice.
Before dark, it was so relaxing just watching all the birds feeding in the fading light.
As soon as night fell the cacophony of frogs began, Many were calling from the large mango trees around me..
Not able to be in the company of friends for my birthday, this for me was the next best thing, it was so tranquillo here.
My own little lakeside shack for the night. Whilst typing this, a mate is being enjoyed as the moon casts a gentle shadow across the now calm waters of the lake.
7/8/2014 Lake to Medicilandia
D67, T4, Av16.64, Max68, 31,662/6134
Incredibly humid, not unbearably hot, overcast
The MSR Hubba tent is perfect when it comes to keeping mosquitoes at bay.
I have to admit, in hotel rooms mosquitoes are such a problem. The only way to keep them from biting, is with a strong fan. This sometimes impedes having a good sleep. Most fans at high speed are less than quiet.
The option of putting the tent up in a motel room will be utilised before long. The tent fits perfectly on a bed.
It was an overcast day beckoning at first light.
Breakfast was enjoyed, taking in the view. The fisherman, gently paddled up to the shore infront of me, he had fish for me. Unfortunately, I had already eaten and was ready to go, it was 0830.
I feel he was a little disappointed. Had his wares not been perishable I would have purchased them.
We chatted for a bit, bending over with out stretsched arms, the wooden canoe with little freeboard, was gently pushed from the shore.
We said goodbye.
On the way out, a visit was paid to the farmer who invited me to stay here. The hard dirt track led through bush on one side and Cocao plants on the other.
His son was on his new trail bike, The man, I can’t remember his name, some of the names are so unusual and with the Portuguese pronunciation, one would need to write them down to remember in many instances or use them imediately.
Anyway, he came wandering up, my first words were, “fue un castillo por la noche” he laughed.
I thanked him deeply for his kindness and we spoke about the cocao plants. They provide a good year round income as the individual pods ripen at different times.
They are such unusual plants. Looking closely, there are tiny flowers on the trunk and branches where the pods originate from.
It is probably a blessing that they need processing to produce chocolate.
Just imagine turning up to an unattended orchard full of trees that had edible chocolate hanging from their branches.
It would suddenly become a 24 hr operation for the owners to get a full harvest.
On the way back to the main road, icy water was loaded at the school. I stopped to chat to a lady about a tree on the track that had the most vivid pink flowers it was so unusual.
Back on the main road, traffic was light and asphalt was the surface. Again, it was easy riding, a great mix of climbing and descending.
Soon Novo Brasil was reached, here I stopped for lunch at a place that had wifi.
Wifi is very accessible everywhere I go here. People have no problems allowing me to use it. Infact, the Trans Amazon is a place where it would be hard to go hungry or thirsty. There, so far have been small towns and little bars and shops spread throughout its length. In Uruguay especially, riding for 80km without a shop was not unusual.
It seems here, everyone is trying to sell something. With all the food cooked in oil, one could even put on weight along the road.
I have been very spoilt with all the new asphalt, though from Medicilandia, apparently it is mostly dirt.
The weather now has changed quite remarkably, the humidity has increased to nearly 100%, the skies are overcast, storm activity can be heard in the evenings and it is very localised.
Leaving Novo Brasil, a strong tail wind began, looking at the skies above revealed dark clouds. This wind was very localised high pressure being sucked into the nearby low pressure around the clouds. My sailing days told me to expect rain and sure enough, the road soon became polka dotted with large shiny black spots.
These spots got closer, very soon the whole road was glistening.
It was one of the most exhilarating and refreshing moments to be bathed in the somewhat cool waters from the sky. This was the first rain ridden in for 60 or more days.
In no hurry, I just let it wash the bike and take some of the ingrained brown colour from my panniers. It was coming from behind me so on descents there was no problem with visibility, guys on motos coming towards me without visors were struggling riding into it.
This lasted for about 40 minutes. It had been like a breath of fresh air, though by now my wetness consisted of sweat and rain.
Cocao plantations were a common sight on the roadside. Much of the country was only partly cleared, with pockets of natural, though disturbed vegetation everywhere.
At one point, coming to the foot of a hill, the whole road had just collapsed. This was an indication of the rainfall that must be received here. The water moving in the subsoil must have just floated this whole section of road on down the gully a small way. A side track now provided passage.
With regards to having a smart phone with me this trip.
The Samsung S4 is so versatile. Being able to change batteries, I have three, and a universal charger that can charge the batteries out of the phone. I am never out of battery power. The removable storage chip holds 32 GB. I have transferred many PDF files onto the phone for ready reference, also on it are some bicycle repair videos.
My computer now is used for word processing and watching movies.
I thought about buying a portable solar charger, there are many with folding panels on the market now. The best ones have USB ports. Almost all my gear is USB charged except for the camera and the laptop.
Having said this, throughout SA and the Mississippi, the reality is you are never really away from power for more than 3-4 days at a time. Possibly quaternary roads may stretch this.
Almost all places selling anything from food to tyres will only be too pleased to let you charge things.
So, any thoughts of getting solar power have been shelved.
With regards to hub generated electricity, again I feel this is just unnecessarily complicating a bike. Spoke sizes are not readily available, lights in many cases, only work when you are moving.
Though the manufacturers say the friction is minimal, you get nothing for nothing. So over 30 to 40 thousand km any amount of friction certainly adds up. That’s alot of effort.
Bearing in mind much of the time power is being generated for absolutely nothing.
The less parts that are able to fail or take up your time attending to them, in my opinion hinders the enjoyment of this kind of travel.
After all, it’s meant to be simple and pure, there is no need to complicate it with mechanical and electrical do dads that can’t be repaired on the road or in a country lacking the parts.
Hoping to camp again tonight, Medicilandia was soon arrived at. The town, had that brown stain all over it from the red soils.
It was 1630, a cheap room became the preferred option for the night .
The people that live out here truly are survivors. Conditions are dusty, hot, noisy and for the most part are not conducive to easy living. All this is only in the dry season. Another whole set of hardships must be heaped upon them in the wet season.
A pousada, on the main road in the centre of town was found for 20 Reals for the night. It was basic but had a great courtyard.
As they further the asphalting on the Trans Amazon, these towns will be easily accessible all year. Riding along the newly asphalted roads one has to remind oneself that this is the Amazon Basin.
Once off the asphalt reminders are far from necessary. The main street of the town ran up and at right angles to the left heading along the TA.
The streets were paved in the hexagonal concrete pavers that are so common here.
It was a busy scene, with motos angle parked along its length, there were electrical goods stores and two supermarkets almost alongside each other. Other stores were clothing shops, butchers, mobile phone accessory stores, hardware shops and of course many pharmacies. Rubbish and boxes were piled up outside each supermarket.
Motos with trailers took up space outside the supermarkets. Much is delivered to customers with these.
There was some grey water tracking its way down the gutters. Vultures were keeping an eye on proceedings from all vantage points above. Dogs were doing the same at ground level.
Every building, regardless of its original colour now had a shade of brown incorporated. People were standing about chatting or just taking in the scene. One of the most common sights throughout SA is that of woman with brooms sweeping the footpath. It was no exception here.
They were busy keeping their little patch clean. It is so territorial, they stop at an undefined line.
Like most streets in shopping precincts, the condition of the footpath changes infront of each shop. Those doing well, have new tiles, next door maybe just concrete, then pavers, then cracked concrete with deep holes. One has to be forever diligent when it comes to walking. Window shopping can be a hazardous pastime.
Given all this, in towns on slopes one has to negotiate the split levels between each premise. These can range from a batter, to a sep or just a sheer 200-500mm drop off.
In my position, this diligence is taken to the extreme. One twisted ankle or fall could be such an inconvenience. My footsteps are chosen carefully.
The other place waiting to put me on the ground with no finesse is the slippery floors in bathrooms. I have had some incredibly close calls only just regaining composure before falling on the floor. These days I am super cautious in any locales with wet tiles, they are deadly.
Dinner was at a buffet setup.
In bed about 2100, the fan was making one hell of a noise at its only available speed. My options were few. I didn’t want to unpack the tent. At least there were two pillows.
My hands were massaged with repellent for the nights bombardment.
The mosquitos, here are very small and very quiet. With so few humans about before the arrival of the Trans Amazon, they may have adapted this stealthy flight ability to ensure the survival of the species.
Who knows, but they sure can create alot of itching and get away with it!
8/8/2014 Medicilandia to Rio Uruará
D85, T10, Max52, Av13.12, 31753/6219
Close to 40°, light shower late
Once again, the howling fan saw me rise early, before daylight. Going outside the town was shrouded in an eerie mist. The vultures were lined up on top of the motel building.
They had complimentary bread and coffee for breakfast, which I helped myself to. Once loaded with cold water from the dispenser and out of the pousada about 0800.
Things were pleasant in the mist and the last of the asphalt was being enjoyed, this enjoyment came to an abrupt end 10km from town.
The hills this time were 10 degree plus slopes. Luckily, the road is not used so much, so the corrugations were minimal though still present in patches.
Once having climbed out of the mist, the heat in the still day was repressive. The dust would hang following a passing vehicle.
Some of the hills were up to a kilometre long, at times I was doing 4.2 kilometres an hour.
It was a case of just focusing on the lowest common denominator, which was just making the wheels move forwards. Other things would just flow through my mind and not be held onto. Such was the effort required.
My body and the clothing on it, were drenched and collecting dust with every passing car.
Perspiration was running down my arms and literally flowing from my riding gloves. My neck warmer, come dust protector was so wet I could not breathe through it properly. My sandals had a pool of water sloshing around in the closed toe area.
My sunglasses, gave me protection from the dust somewhat. The problem was, they were like looking through a wet glass pane most of the time. Going down hills, the dust partly obscured the definition in the road surface so descending had to be with caution so as not to end up in a pot hole.
Precious momentum could not be accumulated ahead of the next ascent, and there always was one!
One thing in favour of the dust, hang it may have, but it certainly made the climbing pass by, as the summits could not be seen, sometimes it was a surprise to find myself at the top before expected, once the dust had cleared.
It was also a good sunscreen. For me it is important to dwell on the good side of everything. The opposite would render this section of the journey as unbearable.
Finally, I arrived at a small village called Union Floresta, here buckets of water were just thrown over myself, it was an indescribably refreshing event.
I sat down at this little cafe and promptly drank 2 litres of icy coke, without a shred of guilt.
My appetite was minimal.
About half an hour was spent here chatting with the carpenter doing a small reno.
The timber he was using was a beautiful red grained, very heavy tropical wood.
Departing here, I stopped at a Cocao buyers shed, he had bags of the seeds inside. The growers get R630 ($315) for a kilo of seed and require about 20 pods to make a kilo. There is a lot of work after the pod is picked, separating, drying etc.
He gave me one to chew on, there was just a hint of chocolate in the flavour.
From here, luckily the hills levelled out a bit. It was actually pleasant riding, the vehicle numbers had decreased.
The countryside was now very lush, with portions of undisturbed jungle set aside for protection. Though, the pristineness could never be fully appreciated because of the dust coated extremities.
Most of the large semis are all carrying timber back to Sao Paulo and other big cities. Sao Paulo to here is a three day trip.
So many trucks travel empty here in Brasil, most trucks return with no load here to the Amazon.
Just when things get desperate there always seems to be a little roadside bar around the next corner. This again wasthe case today. Here I stopped and had a couple of cans of Guaraná. The owner showed me some of his Cacao trees. He was drying seed on black plastic out the front.
On the move again, topped up with cold water, the need to carry more than a few hours drinking water out here is totally unnecessary, as there are houses all along the roadside.
One thing is for sure the dogs on this side of South America are not at all interested in cyclists, almost all are well behaved and may bark, but very few are interested in a persuit.
It is great.
Come 1730, a group of buildings was stopped at. The people out the front informed me it was Fazenda Santa Barbara.
It was a situation where, on arrival there were 4 people out the front. Within 10 minutes, there must have been 20 people, mostly young guys. Many of African descent.
They informed me that the property had 100,000 Cacao trees, they all worked there.
The scene had ramifications of a Southern American plantation as depicted in movies. The people around me could have easily been playing a part in a movie involving slave labour.
They told me Uruará was 27 km from here. Either way, a full load of water was loaded for the night.
Some 4km down the road, a descent size river was crossed. Waiting for a break in traffic, I headed down a track to the waters. It was no good, it looked too used. It was Friday night, there would be people hanging about.
I turned around and had a look at the other side. This looked good. I took the bike through a hole in the fence and headed some 500m upstream on a little used track. Up here, I stopped and went ahead on foot.
Before doing so, I looked down at my filthy sweat laden lower legs. Here were two or three large ticks already crawling up my lower legs looking for less leathery skin to get a mouth hold.
They were huge, ugly looking creatures, intent on getting feed of blood. I swept them off my legs and proceeded on. Further in was a good spot out of the long tick laden grasses.
Returning, with difficulty, the bike was moved through the scrub, the front panniers always make this task tricky.
Once in the spot. The relief of having finished the day overcame me.
I took my hand towel from the bars and my seat to the water’s edge and washed off. Before retuning to the camp. My legs, arms and face were covered in repellent. The mosquitos were now the blood hunters.
This Argentinean product called, Off, has been really effective in controlling hte mosquitos. It contains no DEET.
It was a location where the hammock had to be used. A decent clearing was slashed with the Opinel.
Once the hammock was up, dinner was enjoyed with a coffee. A can of smoked tuna with onion and tomatoes was had, with a High Country dehy food pack that was getting close to its use by date.
After dark, the sound of an outboard was heard. I sat as still as a rock, these guys were doing something directly across the stream from me. They were not talking, so I had no idea what they were up to.
All the reflective items on the bike and panniers were covered, in case they swung their torch my way and noticed a reflector in the beam. While this was going on, with all my senses on full alert, there was a sound of breathing in the bush behind me. First thoughts were a dog, this was not needed.
Really, I did not want people to know I was here. The breathing sound turned out to be bats in the trees behind me.
Two splashes were heard in the river. To my relief, the outboard was kicked into life and they slowly moved upstream towards the bridge.
Tonight was the first night my teeth had not been cleaned for a year or more. I had to be a stealthy as possible, incase one guy had stayed behind on the opposite bank. My next move was just to get in the hammock and try to sleep.
Once inside, a sound of rustling outside attracted my attention. I had already had enough encounters, without this. A quick shhhh!! Whatever it was, fearfully ran off. This made me feel good, he was at least scared of me.
Bats were still landing in the trees making all sorts of noises.
Through all this country, most wildlife has been either killed or has been smart enough to move on. In this respect, I had no problems camping within 4m of the river. Any large Jacaré, I assumed, would have been long captured, I also thought and hoped.
These rivers are netted by the locals, as Joseph said, in the early days there were lots of fish, but not so now.
At the lake, the other night gun shots were also heard.
9/8/2014 Rio Uruará to church on corner
D53, T7, Av11.85, Max53, 31806/6272
Hot with a few spots of rain later, humid
Well after all that happened early it turned out to be an uneventful night.
I was on the road by 0830. There was the heavy mist hanging again. The hammock had to be packed wet.
The sweat was pouring before the road was entered. It did not take long to be drenched. The dust again featured greatly.
Uruará was only 26km away, by the time arriving here I was ready for a break.
Stopping at the local gas station. The truck drivers were washing their trucks from a big tub of water and a watering can. When they were finished I grabbed the can, submerged it and just poured water all over myself from head to toe. There was no holding back.
The guys were telling me almost all trucks here are carting timber back to Sao Paulo or other cities. No fewer than 5 large sawmills were seen entering and leaving town. Many table top, 3 axled trucks are all carting logs. Many are grossly overloaded. I ride past them holding my breath, hoping the load does not break free.
They are often broken down on the roadside.
Once in town, it was found the net was out in the whole community. Lunch was enjoyed and at a gas station yesterdays entry was penned.
Leaving here at 1430, the climbing began again. These were serious climbs. On the uphill side the surface was talcum powder where tucks had finely ground the dust trying to get traction. I was all over the road trying to avoid it. It was steep to the point where my back wheel was spinning as I loaded it.
It was gruelling to say the least. Walking would have been worse in the powder.
I made it but only just.
I thought to myself just how fit I am and how strong my legs have become. It is a nice side affect associated with cycle touring.
A few more of these hills were climbed.
A bar was seen and stopped at, Guaraná was bought and consumed rapidly.
These few climbs today were the hardest cycling I have done since early days in Peru. Though here the dust is twice as bad, then some.
Things did level out a bit. Coming down one straight section there was a gathering of cars and people on the roadside.
Pulling in there was a smashed up moto and a guy lying on his back along side it.
He was not breathing . I got in real close and asked about him. He was dead. It was the first time I have ever been close to someone who has just been killed. There was no blood. Apparently, he had hit the cutting and broke his neck. He was wearing a helmet.
He was middle aged and looked rather peaceful just lying there. I took time to think about the whole scene, it was a totally new experience for me. One made easy, in that there was no blood or mutilation.
A guy reached into his shirt pocket and found his mobile.
Earlier I had been thinking about the reckless way some of these motorcyclists ride. No helmets and full speed two up down hills with a dust laden road ahead.
Someone told me a few people on bikes get killed regularly, I can see why.
The last couple of days have been occupied with death and suffering. Only yesterday, a mule had fallen over a cutting and was dying on the roadside. No one had a knife or gun. Actually, I did, but said nothing.
Then today after the bike accident a lovely green snake was still alive on the road with its back broken unable to move but able to lift its head.
Uruará was a town that survived off exploitation of the land around. Timber was the big industry followed by Cocao. It was a bustling place to say the least.
It is easy to criticise what is going on here in the Amazon. When I first moved to Coffs harbour in Australia in the mid 80,s not alot was different except we had tarred roads. There were sawmills in town and people were dumping rubbish on the side of the road.
These people are in the early stages of settling the land here. As time progresses, the timber will run out as it did in Coffs harbour, or it will be protected. The asphalt will come, people will start thinking about their environment and act accordingly.
That there is no asphalt, dust everywhere and rubbish lying about adds to the overall dismissal of any environmental concern.
All countries have done this during their development. It is that, now most countries have no truly untouched wildernesses that are still being exploited and settled.
One could easily travel along this road and be totally disgusted with what they see.
What is happening here, is a blue print of earlier activities in all countries on the planet. It is just that we in the developed countries are now more environmentally conscious. When we want to be.
In this respect my travels along the Trans Amazon highway are with an open mind, one that these people are behaving no differently than our fore fathers did when they broke in new lands in our respective countries.
Sadly, this part of the planet is a very special place from a biodiversity aspect.
By 1730, I was ready to call it a day. A side road had a small church at its corner. I asked the people at the adjacent house if Icould camp behind the little church, they had no problems. Water was obtained from them.
It was nice to be camping with a view, on hopefully tick free grass.
The nearly full moon lit up a pincushion cloudy sky. It was nice not to be camping in a furtive manner and use my headlight when required.
10/8/2014 Church to River camp west of Placas
D78, T10, Av13, Max53, 31884/6350
Hot, humid and afternoon rain
Up early to another already hot day, the left over pasta and tuna was had plus porridge. It was going to be a big day.
I thanked the family across the road and got going.
The riding was the best so far on the Trans Amazon, the shower of rain had settled the dust and there were few vehicles being Sunday.
It was unreal to see vistas that were crystal clear. If the road was like this everyday, I would recommend it to anyone. Sadly, it is not. Even the birds were celebrating the absence of the dust.
The steep hills were being climbed with ease, such was the riding pleasure.
Soon the road levelled out and good time was made.
Every 20-30km there is a plae to buy drinks or food if wanted.
Some 40 km on Arrival wasmade in Placas. Here a buffet lunch was enjoyed at the cafe that was the bus stop.
Some buses go all the way from Marabá to Santarem. It is a couple of days. The buses are not all that modern either.
From Placas the riding was easy, here too they are preparing the road for asphalt. Luckily it was Sunday, all the machinery was parked up for the day.
From here I stopped at another bar for more drinks. The perspiration is such where every 10-15 km bulk liquid has to be drunk just to stay on top of dehydration. Here a guy pued up on a new Yamaha 650 Enduro.
He introduced himself as Ceasar, he was a Biologist at Altamira on the dam project. We chatted for awhile. He pulled 30R from his up market bike jacket and gave it to me i said no way. He went on and said it would be offending him if I gave it back. Anyway we headed over and i bought him a large Coke that we shared .
He said he had lost his SLR camera from his bike on the road. I told him to be careful with it being Sunday and the drunks about later. It was 3.5 hrs for him back to Altamira for work in hte morning. He said he did not like it there and was looking for work in Sao Paulo.
Clouds were forming overhead about 1500. In my locations there were the typical huge spots on the road, it was trying to rain. Further up the road, there had been much heavier rain.
Well, this was an experience, the dust and dirt turned into a slippery, dangerous passage. Mud and grit was being thrown everywhere off my wheels.
I had to stop and remove the build up inside my wheels guards.
Soon it became impossible to ride. It was like trying to move the bikes with the brakes on reasonably hard.
All i could do was push it. Luckily, another small settlement was up ahead. I parked the bike on the only patch of grass and went over to buy some drinks. The rain had stopped but the mud was at a point where it still stuck to everything that touched it.
The locals said give it half an hour and it will be ok.
Some time later after scraping as much away from the guards as possible I headed off. Only some 5km down the road was a reasonable size river.
There was good access and a thatched roof shelter. I took the bike down to the river and washed myself and it. Cleaning myself was no problem. The mud on the bike would not dissolve in water, so I just left most of it there. It is easier when it dries to remove it .
A good swim was enjoyed.
Heading over to the shelter, it was the kind of place where people came to drink and light fires. Consequently, there was rubbish about and empty beer cans littered the scene. I set the tent up under the shelter in a section that hat had a bench, it was ideal.
The roofing had leaked in the earlier rain though as the ground was wet.
No sooner had the food been spread out and other things unpacked, the cockroaches turned up in force. They were into everything. They turn me off something awful.
Everything bhad to be sealed immediately else they were into it.
Some guys turned up for a fish before dark. They caught nothing but gave me a piece of meat for bait.
I didn’t end going fishing as tiredness and lethargy had set in. The meat had to be tossed. The cockroaches were very fond of it.
I took a walk down a bush track and nearly stood on a small snake. Moving on was done with more caution.
The monkeys again started calling before dark from numerous locations near and far .It had been a great day to see and ride the road in conditions other than dry.
With rain on the road it is impassable on my bike with wheel guards. Watching locals on motorbikes, the slippery conditions never slowed them down. It was scary watching some people with pillion passengers flying past.
I slept in the tent as the ant numbers were not as prolific as the cockroaches, which could easily be kept out of the tent.
11/8/2014 River camp to 10km in bush on creek
10km before Ruropolis
D35, T2.5, Av13.37, max52, 31919/6385
Unbelievably humid and 33 degrees
It had been an uneventful night apart from a dog sniffing around early in the morning.
All my clothes were still soaked. This is by no means a problem because within an hour of riding dry clothes are just as wet.
The temperatures are so comfortable, with about 23 degrees all night. Though about 0300 in the mornings, it is always nice to climb into the sleeping bag, up till then it helps as a pillow.
The road was still wet from yesterday so dust was not a problem. There were some incredibly steep little climbs, at least without too much dust they were bearable.
By 1100, I was looking for a place to stop and have a drink. Coming along one straight such a place could be seen.
It was a corner shop, near a school. Here a few drinks were enjoyed. They allowed me to use their wifi.
I spoke to them about the Jaguars, a range some distance away across the road, had not been disturbed. It was virgin forest. They told me they live in this natural vegetation and come down and kill a young cattle beast occasionally.
Generally like the larger jacaré, they are not that common. I have become quite confident about camping on creeks near the road now. The larger Jacaré were killed off long ago.
I bought meat to cook and use for bat. Even though Ruropolis was only 25km away. I felt like a nights camping on a river. The meat was $4/kg, 1kg was bought. The fish were going to have a big feed.
A guy I had met in Altamira pulled in to say hi at the shop. We enjoyed a bottle of Coke together. He was going to Ruropolis to pick up his daughter.
A group of school children visited the shop during their lunch hour. They were learning English for 1 hour a week. It was enjoyable chatting to them in English, though they understood little.
It is always difficult learning a language when you are not speaking it regularly.
The owner of the shop told me there was a river down the side road to camp on. Going down here was only a few hundred metres, it was far to close to the town for my liking. The stream also looked like it received grey water.
On my way down here a small brown ants nest was trodden on. They attacked me with a vengeance, my sandals could not be removed fast enough.
The decision was made to ride on. My aim was to find a good private spot on a stream and just relax and leave at a leisurely hour in the morning.
Most rivers and streams crossed had no access. The vegetation near watercourses is extremely dense and impenetrable.
Stopping to ask a person sitting under a tree near his moto, he said htere was a river 5km up the road with access.
True to his word, there was a silently running creek at about that distance. It had a foot track to it just before the bridge. I parked the bike and had awander. It was perfect.
My camping spot was some 300m from the road. I could use my head light at my leisure without being seen.
The hammock was set up with lots of time. I am slowly getting used to setting it up. There were just to many ants on the ground for a tent.
Dinner was fried potatoes and small pieces of steak with lots of garlic.
An evening fish was enjoyed infront of the camp with no luck, except for a small crab.
It was great to have the hammock set up properly. I can seem myself getting quite used to sleeping in it. Though not as comfortable as the airbed, the security it offers being off the ground more than makes up for this.
By the time my blog had been finished and a herbal tea enjoyed, it was 2300hrs.
One of my latest nights at a campsite yet. There appeared to be no animals around in the vegetation that was predominantly palms with trees and shrubs enjoying the light at the streams edge.
12/8/2014 Camp to Ruropolis
D7km
35° at 1000hrs
It was great arising after the first good night’s sleep in the hammock. Nothing had stumbled upon the camp overnight. Other than the now common sound of monkeys at night, no other sounds awoke me.
Deciding to have a fish before breakfast, a good search in my panniers, I found hooks but no nylon, I did have some last year. This must have been discarded when Callum and I were fishing Patagonia with rods.
Wondering how strong dental floss was, a good tug on a length pulled from the dispenser revealed it to be up to the task. A hook was tied on the end, about 3m was tied onto a pole that had been cut.
With a nice piece of beef on the small hook, it was slowly lowered into the snag infested waterway.
Within a couple of minutes, a nice little catfish was on the end. Within another 30 minutes it was cleaned, cooked and in my stomach. Fresh fish was such a delight.
Just idling about, the camp was not broken till 0930. It was a great way to finish my last night on the Trans Amazon.
The ride into Ruropolis, though only a few km was almost all up and down small steep climbs. In no time at all the perspiration had all my clothing soaked.
Arriving in Ruropolis, I stopped at the gas station and topped up my fuel bottle and drank plenty of chilled water. The bike was also given a good wash down.
People guided me to the Hotel Pires, where a small but comfortable room was booked. All my washing was done.
My time on the Trans Amazonica Highway included days that could be considered the most tough and uncomfortable in my life.
The dust was a part of life, all the people encountered along the way were spirited and determined. These traits would be mandatory to live out here in the heat and dust of the winter months only to be followed by the other extreme in summer.
The few hours in the wet on the road, gave me an idea of the hardships endured in the wet season.
All the towns and cities passed through had an air of enthusiasm amongst their inhabitants.
The road is changing at a rapid pace, the Brazillian Government is paving it as a matter of urgency.
Like the Caraterra Austral in Southern Chile, the arrival of asphalt will take away some of the remoteness and uniqueness of any passage along its length.
Each day ended with a great sense of achievement, with a weariness that can only be enjoyed after you have pushed yourself to the limit.
The sum of each little climb out here in the Amazon basin had this effect upon me.
My return will see me turn right and get onto Ruta 163 here to Santarem, along with all the trucks carrying soya beans to the huge Cargill facility on hte Amazon river.
I received an email from my sister regarding my Dad, he is not at all well.
This sees me penning this in the Santarem airport, having caught a bus here late last night, before flying to Manaus and onto Christchrch, NZ to be with my family at this time.
My bike is being stored at the motel in Ruropolis for the duration of my absence.
For now, there will be no further entries. They will resume ASAP.
Thanks to everyone who reads and hopefully enjoys my accounts of the trip, interlaced with my opinions and feelings about certain topics.
I am looking forward to getting back here just as much as I’m looking forward to being with my parents and sister in New Zealand. My Dad is 84.
D28, T2 Av14, max59, 31600/6067
Hot and high humidity
Up early to ring NZ, as my dad is not too well, all is reasonably good with him. It was then a wander into town to get a few things. Honey has been hard to find, the biggest supermarket did not stock it. Finally, some was found at one of the many small markets in town.
Altamira is a boomtown, it is busy, most motels are full, everyone is benefiting from the building of the Belo Monte dam.
I was told, it is going to take another 4 years. Finally, a departure was made from the hotel at 1030. The young guy in the fruit shop told me there was asphalt all the way to Medicilandia, more good news.
Once on the road, the humidity was up around 100% after last nights downpour.
The hills were gentle and not being in any kind of hurry, all was good.
At 1230, the turn of to Igarapé Panelas was arrived at. There was a bar come loja on the corner of the gravel turnoff.
Here two woman in their late forties were chatting. A large bottle of Guaraná was bought. One of the women was the owner and the other, after 5 or 10 minutes was observed to be totally smashed on rum.
Most people I meet think I’m an Argentino, probably because my Spanish is so bad!
Anyway, this woman was waffling on, not believing I was Australian, slurring every word. The owner and I looked at each other and she knew I had figured out the womans situation.
It was a good time to move on.
My plan was to have a relaxing day camping down by this lake. Afterall, it was my birthday. The motel scene in Altamira was outside my budget. It was time to move on. Infact all prices were inflated in the town. It reminded me of Calama in Northern Chile, near the worlds biggest copper mine.
I asked about directions, the dirt road led me through a little settlement and past a school. Here my water was topped up for the night and spent time talking to all the kids as best I could.
A teacher there understood some Spanish.
Following nothing but a track which led me down to the rufous waters of the stump filled lake. It was a place not very conducive to camping.
Wandering back to the bike, another track was taken, this led to a house.
A middle aged guy without a shirt came out to greet me. Telling him, I was looking for a place to camp. He told me to come with him. All down the tracks here there were cacao trees growing. He had 125 acres under the valuable crop. We went down to the lakefront at his place. It was great he had a few hammocks up, with a bbq area of clean earth looking out over the lake.
He said there were Jacaré in the waters but they were not such a problem.
He said he would take me to a friend of his place up the track by the lake. He was from Altamira and only used it occasionally.
Once coming out of the bush track we came upon a cleared area and a quaint little wooden shelter with a lounge under the roof overlooking an arm of the lake.
He said I could camp hare the night.
It was absolute bliss, birds everywhere, lovely views, fish breaking the rippled water and totally private. Other properties were in the bush across the water. Though I could only hear voices, not see the dwellings.
The palm fringed shores concealed things beyond the riparian zone.
A cup of coffee was made and a great sleep was enjoyed on the lounge.
Before dinner, a fisherman in a canoe went past. Yelling out, he was asked, if fish could be bought from him on the way back.
He said no problems. Soon he returned and said, nada. So, the pasta had to suffice for dinner. He said he might have fish early in the morning. That would be nice.
Before dark, it was so relaxing just watching all the birds feeding in the fading light.
As soon as night fell the cacophony of frogs began, Many were calling from the large mango trees around me..
Not able to be in the company of friends for my birthday, this for me was the next best thing, it was so tranquillo here.
My own little lakeside shack for the night. Whilst typing this, a mate is being enjoyed as the moon casts a gentle shadow across the now calm waters of the lake.
7/8/2014 Lake to Medicilandia
D67, T4, Av16.64, Max68, 31,662/6134
Incredibly humid, not unbearably hot, overcast
The MSR Hubba tent is perfect when it comes to keeping mosquitoes at bay.
I have to admit, in hotel rooms mosquitoes are such a problem. The only way to keep them from biting, is with a strong fan. This sometimes impedes having a good sleep. Most fans at high speed are less than quiet.
The option of putting the tent up in a motel room will be utilised before long. The tent fits perfectly on a bed.
It was an overcast day beckoning at first light.
Breakfast was enjoyed, taking in the view. The fisherman, gently paddled up to the shore infront of me, he had fish for me. Unfortunately, I had already eaten and was ready to go, it was 0830.
I feel he was a little disappointed. Had his wares not been perishable I would have purchased them.
We chatted for a bit, bending over with out stretsched arms, the wooden canoe with little freeboard, was gently pushed from the shore.
We said goodbye.
On the way out, a visit was paid to the farmer who invited me to stay here. The hard dirt track led through bush on one side and Cocao plants on the other.
His son was on his new trail bike, The man, I can’t remember his name, some of the names are so unusual and with the Portuguese pronunciation, one would need to write them down to remember in many instances or use them imediately.
Anyway, he came wandering up, my first words were, “fue un castillo por la noche” he laughed.
I thanked him deeply for his kindness and we spoke about the cocao plants. They provide a good year round income as the individual pods ripen at different times.
They are such unusual plants. Looking closely, there are tiny flowers on the trunk and branches where the pods originate from.
It is probably a blessing that they need processing to produce chocolate.
Just imagine turning up to an unattended orchard full of trees that had edible chocolate hanging from their branches.
It would suddenly become a 24 hr operation for the owners to get a full harvest.
On the way back to the main road, icy water was loaded at the school. I stopped to chat to a lady about a tree on the track that had the most vivid pink flowers it was so unusual.
Back on the main road, traffic was light and asphalt was the surface. Again, it was easy riding, a great mix of climbing and descending.
Soon Novo Brasil was reached, here I stopped for lunch at a place that had wifi.
Wifi is very accessible everywhere I go here. People have no problems allowing me to use it. Infact, the Trans Amazon is a place where it would be hard to go hungry or thirsty. There, so far have been small towns and little bars and shops spread throughout its length. In Uruguay especially, riding for 80km without a shop was not unusual.
It seems here, everyone is trying to sell something. With all the food cooked in oil, one could even put on weight along the road.
I have been very spoilt with all the new asphalt, though from Medicilandia, apparently it is mostly dirt.
The weather now has changed quite remarkably, the humidity has increased to nearly 100%, the skies are overcast, storm activity can be heard in the evenings and it is very localised.
Leaving Novo Brasil, a strong tail wind began, looking at the skies above revealed dark clouds. This wind was very localised high pressure being sucked into the nearby low pressure around the clouds. My sailing days told me to expect rain and sure enough, the road soon became polka dotted with large shiny black spots.
These spots got closer, very soon the whole road was glistening.
It was one of the most exhilarating and refreshing moments to be bathed in the somewhat cool waters from the sky. This was the first rain ridden in for 60 or more days.
In no hurry, I just let it wash the bike and take some of the ingrained brown colour from my panniers. It was coming from behind me so on descents there was no problem with visibility, guys on motos coming towards me without visors were struggling riding into it.
This lasted for about 40 minutes. It had been like a breath of fresh air, though by now my wetness consisted of sweat and rain.
Cocao plantations were a common sight on the roadside. Much of the country was only partly cleared, with pockets of natural, though disturbed vegetation everywhere.
At one point, coming to the foot of a hill, the whole road had just collapsed. This was an indication of the rainfall that must be received here. The water moving in the subsoil must have just floated this whole section of road on down the gully a small way. A side track now provided passage.
With regards to having a smart phone with me this trip.
The Samsung S4 is so versatile. Being able to change batteries, I have three, and a universal charger that can charge the batteries out of the phone. I am never out of battery power. The removable storage chip holds 32 GB. I have transferred many PDF files onto the phone for ready reference, also on it are some bicycle repair videos.
My computer now is used for word processing and watching movies.
I thought about buying a portable solar charger, there are many with folding panels on the market now. The best ones have USB ports. Almost all my gear is USB charged except for the camera and the laptop.
Having said this, throughout SA and the Mississippi, the reality is you are never really away from power for more than 3-4 days at a time. Possibly quaternary roads may stretch this.
Almost all places selling anything from food to tyres will only be too pleased to let you charge things.
So, any thoughts of getting solar power have been shelved.
With regards to hub generated electricity, again I feel this is just unnecessarily complicating a bike. Spoke sizes are not readily available, lights in many cases, only work when you are moving.
Though the manufacturers say the friction is minimal, you get nothing for nothing. So over 30 to 40 thousand km any amount of friction certainly adds up. That’s alot of effort.
Bearing in mind much of the time power is being generated for absolutely nothing.
The less parts that are able to fail or take up your time attending to them, in my opinion hinders the enjoyment of this kind of travel.
After all, it’s meant to be simple and pure, there is no need to complicate it with mechanical and electrical do dads that can’t be repaired on the road or in a country lacking the parts.
Hoping to camp again tonight, Medicilandia was soon arrived at. The town, had that brown stain all over it from the red soils.
It was 1630, a cheap room became the preferred option for the night .
The people that live out here truly are survivors. Conditions are dusty, hot, noisy and for the most part are not conducive to easy living. All this is only in the dry season. Another whole set of hardships must be heaped upon them in the wet season.
A pousada, on the main road in the centre of town was found for 20 Reals for the night. It was basic but had a great courtyard.
As they further the asphalting on the Trans Amazon, these towns will be easily accessible all year. Riding along the newly asphalted roads one has to remind oneself that this is the Amazon Basin.
Once off the asphalt reminders are far from necessary. The main street of the town ran up and at right angles to the left heading along the TA.
The streets were paved in the hexagonal concrete pavers that are so common here.
It was a busy scene, with motos angle parked along its length, there were electrical goods stores and two supermarkets almost alongside each other. Other stores were clothing shops, butchers, mobile phone accessory stores, hardware shops and of course many pharmacies. Rubbish and boxes were piled up outside each supermarket.
Motos with trailers took up space outside the supermarkets. Much is delivered to customers with these.
There was some grey water tracking its way down the gutters. Vultures were keeping an eye on proceedings from all vantage points above. Dogs were doing the same at ground level.
Every building, regardless of its original colour now had a shade of brown incorporated. People were standing about chatting or just taking in the scene. One of the most common sights throughout SA is that of woman with brooms sweeping the footpath. It was no exception here.
They were busy keeping their little patch clean. It is so territorial, they stop at an undefined line.
Like most streets in shopping precincts, the condition of the footpath changes infront of each shop. Those doing well, have new tiles, next door maybe just concrete, then pavers, then cracked concrete with deep holes. One has to be forever diligent when it comes to walking. Window shopping can be a hazardous pastime.
Given all this, in towns on slopes one has to negotiate the split levels between each premise. These can range from a batter, to a sep or just a sheer 200-500mm drop off.
In my position, this diligence is taken to the extreme. One twisted ankle or fall could be such an inconvenience. My footsteps are chosen carefully.
The other place waiting to put me on the ground with no finesse is the slippery floors in bathrooms. I have had some incredibly close calls only just regaining composure before falling on the floor. These days I am super cautious in any locales with wet tiles, they are deadly.
Dinner was at a buffet setup.
In bed about 2100, the fan was making one hell of a noise at its only available speed. My options were few. I didn’t want to unpack the tent. At least there were two pillows.
My hands were massaged with repellent for the nights bombardment.
The mosquitos, here are very small and very quiet. With so few humans about before the arrival of the Trans Amazon, they may have adapted this stealthy flight ability to ensure the survival of the species.
Who knows, but they sure can create alot of itching and get away with it!
8/8/2014 Medicilandia to Rio Uruará
D85, T10, Max52, Av13.12, 31753/6219
Close to 40°, light shower late
Once again, the howling fan saw me rise early, before daylight. Going outside the town was shrouded in an eerie mist. The vultures were lined up on top of the motel building.
They had complimentary bread and coffee for breakfast, which I helped myself to. Once loaded with cold water from the dispenser and out of the pousada about 0800.
Things were pleasant in the mist and the last of the asphalt was being enjoyed, this enjoyment came to an abrupt end 10km from town.
The hills this time were 10 degree plus slopes. Luckily, the road is not used so much, so the corrugations were minimal though still present in patches.
Once having climbed out of the mist, the heat in the still day was repressive. The dust would hang following a passing vehicle.
Some of the hills were up to a kilometre long, at times I was doing 4.2 kilometres an hour.
It was a case of just focusing on the lowest common denominator, which was just making the wheels move forwards. Other things would just flow through my mind and not be held onto. Such was the effort required.
My body and the clothing on it, were drenched and collecting dust with every passing car.
Perspiration was running down my arms and literally flowing from my riding gloves. My neck warmer, come dust protector was so wet I could not breathe through it properly. My sandals had a pool of water sloshing around in the closed toe area.
My sunglasses, gave me protection from the dust somewhat. The problem was, they were like looking through a wet glass pane most of the time. Going down hills, the dust partly obscured the definition in the road surface so descending had to be with caution so as not to end up in a pot hole.
Precious momentum could not be accumulated ahead of the next ascent, and there always was one!
One thing in favour of the dust, hang it may have, but it certainly made the climbing pass by, as the summits could not be seen, sometimes it was a surprise to find myself at the top before expected, once the dust had cleared.
It was also a good sunscreen. For me it is important to dwell on the good side of everything. The opposite would render this section of the journey as unbearable.
Finally, I arrived at a small village called Union Floresta, here buckets of water were just thrown over myself, it was an indescribably refreshing event.
I sat down at this little cafe and promptly drank 2 litres of icy coke, without a shred of guilt.
My appetite was minimal.
About half an hour was spent here chatting with the carpenter doing a small reno.
The timber he was using was a beautiful red grained, very heavy tropical wood.
Departing here, I stopped at a Cocao buyers shed, he had bags of the seeds inside. The growers get R630 ($315) for a kilo of seed and require about 20 pods to make a kilo. There is a lot of work after the pod is picked, separating, drying etc.
He gave me one to chew on, there was just a hint of chocolate in the flavour.
From here, luckily the hills levelled out a bit. It was actually pleasant riding, the vehicle numbers had decreased.
The countryside was now very lush, with portions of undisturbed jungle set aside for protection. Though, the pristineness could never be fully appreciated because of the dust coated extremities.
Most of the large semis are all carrying timber back to Sao Paulo and other big cities. Sao Paulo to here is a three day trip.
So many trucks travel empty here in Brasil, most trucks return with no load here to the Amazon.
Just when things get desperate there always seems to be a little roadside bar around the next corner. This again wasthe case today. Here I stopped and had a couple of cans of Guaraná. The owner showed me some of his Cacao trees. He was drying seed on black plastic out the front.
On the move again, topped up with cold water, the need to carry more than a few hours drinking water out here is totally unnecessary, as there are houses all along the roadside.
One thing is for sure the dogs on this side of South America are not at all interested in cyclists, almost all are well behaved and may bark, but very few are interested in a persuit.
It is great.
Come 1730, a group of buildings was stopped at. The people out the front informed me it was Fazenda Santa Barbara.
It was a situation where, on arrival there were 4 people out the front. Within 10 minutes, there must have been 20 people, mostly young guys. Many of African descent.
They informed me that the property had 100,000 Cacao trees, they all worked there.
The scene had ramifications of a Southern American plantation as depicted in movies. The people around me could have easily been playing a part in a movie involving slave labour.
They told me Uruará was 27 km from here. Either way, a full load of water was loaded for the night.
Some 4km down the road, a descent size river was crossed. Waiting for a break in traffic, I headed down a track to the waters. It was no good, it looked too used. It was Friday night, there would be people hanging about.
I turned around and had a look at the other side. This looked good. I took the bike through a hole in the fence and headed some 500m upstream on a little used track. Up here, I stopped and went ahead on foot.
Before doing so, I looked down at my filthy sweat laden lower legs. Here were two or three large ticks already crawling up my lower legs looking for less leathery skin to get a mouth hold.
They were huge, ugly looking creatures, intent on getting feed of blood. I swept them off my legs and proceeded on. Further in was a good spot out of the long tick laden grasses.
Returning, with difficulty, the bike was moved through the scrub, the front panniers always make this task tricky.
Once in the spot. The relief of having finished the day overcame me.
I took my hand towel from the bars and my seat to the water’s edge and washed off. Before retuning to the camp. My legs, arms and face were covered in repellent. The mosquitos were now the blood hunters.
This Argentinean product called, Off, has been really effective in controlling hte mosquitos. It contains no DEET.
It was a location where the hammock had to be used. A decent clearing was slashed with the Opinel.
Once the hammock was up, dinner was enjoyed with a coffee. A can of smoked tuna with onion and tomatoes was had, with a High Country dehy food pack that was getting close to its use by date.
After dark, the sound of an outboard was heard. I sat as still as a rock, these guys were doing something directly across the stream from me. They were not talking, so I had no idea what they were up to.
All the reflective items on the bike and panniers were covered, in case they swung their torch my way and noticed a reflector in the beam. While this was going on, with all my senses on full alert, there was a sound of breathing in the bush behind me. First thoughts were a dog, this was not needed.
Really, I did not want people to know I was here. The breathing sound turned out to be bats in the trees behind me.
Two splashes were heard in the river. To my relief, the outboard was kicked into life and they slowly moved upstream towards the bridge.
Tonight was the first night my teeth had not been cleaned for a year or more. I had to be a stealthy as possible, incase one guy had stayed behind on the opposite bank. My next move was just to get in the hammock and try to sleep.
Once inside, a sound of rustling outside attracted my attention. I had already had enough encounters, without this. A quick shhhh!! Whatever it was, fearfully ran off. This made me feel good, he was at least scared of me.
Bats were still landing in the trees making all sorts of noises.
Through all this country, most wildlife has been either killed or has been smart enough to move on. In this respect, I had no problems camping within 4m of the river. Any large Jacaré, I assumed, would have been long captured, I also thought and hoped.
These rivers are netted by the locals, as Joseph said, in the early days there were lots of fish, but not so now.
At the lake, the other night gun shots were also heard.
9/8/2014 Rio Uruará to church on corner
D53, T7, Av11.85, Max53, 31806/6272
Hot with a few spots of rain later, humid
Well after all that happened early it turned out to be an uneventful night.
I was on the road by 0830. There was the heavy mist hanging again. The hammock had to be packed wet.
The sweat was pouring before the road was entered. It did not take long to be drenched. The dust again featured greatly.
Uruará was only 26km away, by the time arriving here I was ready for a break.
Stopping at the local gas station. The truck drivers were washing their trucks from a big tub of water and a watering can. When they were finished I grabbed the can, submerged it and just poured water all over myself from head to toe. There was no holding back.
The guys were telling me almost all trucks here are carting timber back to Sao Paulo or other cities. No fewer than 5 large sawmills were seen entering and leaving town. Many table top, 3 axled trucks are all carting logs. Many are grossly overloaded. I ride past them holding my breath, hoping the load does not break free.
They are often broken down on the roadside.
Once in town, it was found the net was out in the whole community. Lunch was enjoyed and at a gas station yesterdays entry was penned.
Leaving here at 1430, the climbing began again. These were serious climbs. On the uphill side the surface was talcum powder where tucks had finely ground the dust trying to get traction. I was all over the road trying to avoid it. It was steep to the point where my back wheel was spinning as I loaded it.
It was gruelling to say the least. Walking would have been worse in the powder.
I made it but only just.
I thought to myself just how fit I am and how strong my legs have become. It is a nice side affect associated with cycle touring.
A few more of these hills were climbed.
A bar was seen and stopped at, Guaraná was bought and consumed rapidly.
These few climbs today were the hardest cycling I have done since early days in Peru. Though here the dust is twice as bad, then some.
Things did level out a bit. Coming down one straight section there was a gathering of cars and people on the roadside.
Pulling in there was a smashed up moto and a guy lying on his back along side it.
He was not breathing . I got in real close and asked about him. He was dead. It was the first time I have ever been close to someone who has just been killed. There was no blood. Apparently, he had hit the cutting and broke his neck. He was wearing a helmet.
He was middle aged and looked rather peaceful just lying there. I took time to think about the whole scene, it was a totally new experience for me. One made easy, in that there was no blood or mutilation.
A guy reached into his shirt pocket and found his mobile.
Earlier I had been thinking about the reckless way some of these motorcyclists ride. No helmets and full speed two up down hills with a dust laden road ahead.
Someone told me a few people on bikes get killed regularly, I can see why.
The last couple of days have been occupied with death and suffering. Only yesterday, a mule had fallen over a cutting and was dying on the roadside. No one had a knife or gun. Actually, I did, but said nothing.
Then today after the bike accident a lovely green snake was still alive on the road with its back broken unable to move but able to lift its head.
Uruará was a town that survived off exploitation of the land around. Timber was the big industry followed by Cocao. It was a bustling place to say the least.
It is easy to criticise what is going on here in the Amazon. When I first moved to Coffs harbour in Australia in the mid 80,s not alot was different except we had tarred roads. There were sawmills in town and people were dumping rubbish on the side of the road.
These people are in the early stages of settling the land here. As time progresses, the timber will run out as it did in Coffs harbour, or it will be protected. The asphalt will come, people will start thinking about their environment and act accordingly.
That there is no asphalt, dust everywhere and rubbish lying about adds to the overall dismissal of any environmental concern.
All countries have done this during their development. It is that, now most countries have no truly untouched wildernesses that are still being exploited and settled.
One could easily travel along this road and be totally disgusted with what they see.
What is happening here, is a blue print of earlier activities in all countries on the planet. It is just that we in the developed countries are now more environmentally conscious. When we want to be.
In this respect my travels along the Trans Amazon highway are with an open mind, one that these people are behaving no differently than our fore fathers did when they broke in new lands in our respective countries.
Sadly, this part of the planet is a very special place from a biodiversity aspect.
By 1730, I was ready to call it a day. A side road had a small church at its corner. I asked the people at the adjacent house if Icould camp behind the little church, they had no problems. Water was obtained from them.
It was nice to be camping with a view, on hopefully tick free grass.
The nearly full moon lit up a pincushion cloudy sky. It was nice not to be camping in a furtive manner and use my headlight when required.
10/8/2014 Church to River camp west of Placas
D78, T10, Av13, Max53, 31884/6350
Hot, humid and afternoon rain
Up early to another already hot day, the left over pasta and tuna was had plus porridge. It was going to be a big day.
I thanked the family across the road and got going.
The riding was the best so far on the Trans Amazon, the shower of rain had settled the dust and there were few vehicles being Sunday.
It was unreal to see vistas that were crystal clear. If the road was like this everyday, I would recommend it to anyone. Sadly, it is not. Even the birds were celebrating the absence of the dust.
The steep hills were being climbed with ease, such was the riding pleasure.
Soon the road levelled out and good time was made.
Every 20-30km there is a plae to buy drinks or food if wanted.
Some 40 km on Arrival wasmade in Placas. Here a buffet lunch was enjoyed at the cafe that was the bus stop.
Some buses go all the way from Marabá to Santarem. It is a couple of days. The buses are not all that modern either.
From Placas the riding was easy, here too they are preparing the road for asphalt. Luckily it was Sunday, all the machinery was parked up for the day.
From here I stopped at another bar for more drinks. The perspiration is such where every 10-15 km bulk liquid has to be drunk just to stay on top of dehydration. Here a guy pued up on a new Yamaha 650 Enduro.
He introduced himself as Ceasar, he was a Biologist at Altamira on the dam project. We chatted for awhile. He pulled 30R from his up market bike jacket and gave it to me i said no way. He went on and said it would be offending him if I gave it back. Anyway we headed over and i bought him a large Coke that we shared .
He said he had lost his SLR camera from his bike on the road. I told him to be careful with it being Sunday and the drunks about later. It was 3.5 hrs for him back to Altamira for work in hte morning. He said he did not like it there and was looking for work in Sao Paulo.
Clouds were forming overhead about 1500. In my locations there were the typical huge spots on the road, it was trying to rain. Further up the road, there had been much heavier rain.
Well, this was an experience, the dust and dirt turned into a slippery, dangerous passage. Mud and grit was being thrown everywhere off my wheels.
I had to stop and remove the build up inside my wheels guards.
Soon it became impossible to ride. It was like trying to move the bikes with the brakes on reasonably hard.
All i could do was push it. Luckily, another small settlement was up ahead. I parked the bike on the only patch of grass and went over to buy some drinks. The rain had stopped but the mud was at a point where it still stuck to everything that touched it.
The locals said give it half an hour and it will be ok.
Some time later after scraping as much away from the guards as possible I headed off. Only some 5km down the road was a reasonable size river.
There was good access and a thatched roof shelter. I took the bike down to the river and washed myself and it. Cleaning myself was no problem. The mud on the bike would not dissolve in water, so I just left most of it there. It is easier when it dries to remove it .
A good swim was enjoyed.
Heading over to the shelter, it was the kind of place where people came to drink and light fires. Consequently, there was rubbish about and empty beer cans littered the scene. I set the tent up under the shelter in a section that hat had a bench, it was ideal.
The roofing had leaked in the earlier rain though as the ground was wet.
No sooner had the food been spread out and other things unpacked, the cockroaches turned up in force. They were into everything. They turn me off something awful.
Everything bhad to be sealed immediately else they were into it.
Some guys turned up for a fish before dark. They caught nothing but gave me a piece of meat for bait.
I didn’t end going fishing as tiredness and lethargy had set in. The meat had to be tossed. The cockroaches were very fond of it.
I took a walk down a bush track and nearly stood on a small snake. Moving on was done with more caution.
The monkeys again started calling before dark from numerous locations near and far .It had been a great day to see and ride the road in conditions other than dry.
With rain on the road it is impassable on my bike with wheel guards. Watching locals on motorbikes, the slippery conditions never slowed them down. It was scary watching some people with pillion passengers flying past.
I slept in the tent as the ant numbers were not as prolific as the cockroaches, which could easily be kept out of the tent.
11/8/2014 River camp to 10km in bush on creek
10km before Ruropolis
D35, T2.5, Av13.37, max52, 31919/6385
Unbelievably humid and 33 degrees
It had been an uneventful night apart from a dog sniffing around early in the morning.
All my clothes were still soaked. This is by no means a problem because within an hour of riding dry clothes are just as wet.
The temperatures are so comfortable, with about 23 degrees all night. Though about 0300 in the mornings, it is always nice to climb into the sleeping bag, up till then it helps as a pillow.
The road was still wet from yesterday so dust was not a problem. There were some incredibly steep little climbs, at least without too much dust they were bearable.
By 1100, I was looking for a place to stop and have a drink. Coming along one straight such a place could be seen.
It was a corner shop, near a school. Here a few drinks were enjoyed. They allowed me to use their wifi.
I spoke to them about the Jaguars, a range some distance away across the road, had not been disturbed. It was virgin forest. They told me they live in this natural vegetation and come down and kill a young cattle beast occasionally.
Generally like the larger jacaré, they are not that common. I have become quite confident about camping on creeks near the road now. The larger Jacaré were killed off long ago.
I bought meat to cook and use for bat. Even though Ruropolis was only 25km away. I felt like a nights camping on a river. The meat was $4/kg, 1kg was bought. The fish were going to have a big feed.
A guy I had met in Altamira pulled in to say hi at the shop. We enjoyed a bottle of Coke together. He was going to Ruropolis to pick up his daughter.
A group of school children visited the shop during their lunch hour. They were learning English for 1 hour a week. It was enjoyable chatting to them in English, though they understood little.
It is always difficult learning a language when you are not speaking it regularly.
The owner of the shop told me there was a river down the side road to camp on. Going down here was only a few hundred metres, it was far to close to the town for my liking. The stream also looked like it received grey water.
On my way down here a small brown ants nest was trodden on. They attacked me with a vengeance, my sandals could not be removed fast enough.
The decision was made to ride on. My aim was to find a good private spot on a stream and just relax and leave at a leisurely hour in the morning.
Most rivers and streams crossed had no access. The vegetation near watercourses is extremely dense and impenetrable.
Stopping to ask a person sitting under a tree near his moto, he said htere was a river 5km up the road with access.
True to his word, there was a silently running creek at about that distance. It had a foot track to it just before the bridge. I parked the bike and had awander. It was perfect.
My camping spot was some 300m from the road. I could use my head light at my leisure without being seen.
The hammock was set up with lots of time. I am slowly getting used to setting it up. There were just to many ants on the ground for a tent.
Dinner was fried potatoes and small pieces of steak with lots of garlic.
An evening fish was enjoyed infront of the camp with no luck, except for a small crab.
It was great to have the hammock set up properly. I can seem myself getting quite used to sleeping in it. Though not as comfortable as the airbed, the security it offers being off the ground more than makes up for this.
By the time my blog had been finished and a herbal tea enjoyed, it was 2300hrs.
One of my latest nights at a campsite yet. There appeared to be no animals around in the vegetation that was predominantly palms with trees and shrubs enjoying the light at the streams edge.
12/8/2014 Camp to Ruropolis
D7km
35° at 1000hrs
It was great arising after the first good night’s sleep in the hammock. Nothing had stumbled upon the camp overnight. Other than the now common sound of monkeys at night, no other sounds awoke me.
Deciding to have a fish before breakfast, a good search in my panniers, I found hooks but no nylon, I did have some last year. This must have been discarded when Callum and I were fishing Patagonia with rods.
Wondering how strong dental floss was, a good tug on a length pulled from the dispenser revealed it to be up to the task. A hook was tied on the end, about 3m was tied onto a pole that had been cut.
With a nice piece of beef on the small hook, it was slowly lowered into the snag infested waterway.
Within a couple of minutes, a nice little catfish was on the end. Within another 30 minutes it was cleaned, cooked and in my stomach. Fresh fish was such a delight.
Just idling about, the camp was not broken till 0930. It was a great way to finish my last night on the Trans Amazon.
The ride into Ruropolis, though only a few km was almost all up and down small steep climbs. In no time at all the perspiration had all my clothing soaked.
Arriving in Ruropolis, I stopped at the gas station and topped up my fuel bottle and drank plenty of chilled water. The bike was also given a good wash down.
People guided me to the Hotel Pires, where a small but comfortable room was booked. All my washing was done.
My time on the Trans Amazonica Highway included days that could be considered the most tough and uncomfortable in my life.
The dust was a part of life, all the people encountered along the way were spirited and determined. These traits would be mandatory to live out here in the heat and dust of the winter months only to be followed by the other extreme in summer.
The few hours in the wet on the road, gave me an idea of the hardships endured in the wet season.
All the towns and cities passed through had an air of enthusiasm amongst their inhabitants.
The road is changing at a rapid pace, the Brazillian Government is paving it as a matter of urgency.
Like the Caraterra Austral in Southern Chile, the arrival of asphalt will take away some of the remoteness and uniqueness of any passage along its length.
Each day ended with a great sense of achievement, with a weariness that can only be enjoyed after you have pushed yourself to the limit.
The sum of each little climb out here in the Amazon basin had this effect upon me.
My return will see me turn right and get onto Ruta 163 here to Santarem, along with all the trucks carrying soya beans to the huge Cargill facility on hte Amazon river.
I received an email from my sister regarding my Dad, he is not at all well.
This sees me penning this in the Santarem airport, having caught a bus here late last night, before flying to Manaus and onto Christchrch, NZ to be with my family at this time.
My bike is being stored at the motel in Ruropolis for the duration of my absence.
For now, there will be no further entries. They will resume ASAP.
Thanks to everyone who reads and hopefully enjoys my accounts of the trip, interlaced with my opinions and feelings about certain topics.
I am looking forward to getting back here just as much as I’m looking forward to being with my parents and sister in New Zealand. My Dad is 84.
Main Street Medicilandia
The 'burbs west side Altamira.
My birthday "digs" for the night
The lake infront of the camp near Altamira
The classic Brasileiro bicycle, with the ring in the frame.
Rio Uruará
These little Fiat pickups are everywhere out here
Another campsite, myself and thousands of cockroaches
Happy with my final nights campsite on the Trans Amazonica
Breakfast courtesy of dental floss.
Markets Ruropolis
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Early morning Medicilandia
Chocolate in the making.
I could not do without the loops between the fingers on these riding gloves for easy removal when they are soaking wet and slippery.
Such a good idea.
The colours of the Amazon Basin.
Trucks carting sawn timber from the Uruará area.
Much is going to Sao Paulo
Cacao seeds drying
What happens after some light rain
I have finally got the knack of setting up the hammock perfectly.
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