My Interview for "Tiny House Lifestyle" Podcast

A few weeks ago, I had the great pleasure of being interviewed by Ethan Waldman for the Tiny House Lifestyle podcast. Our conversation is recorded in Episode #165: "What's Bicycle Touring Got to do with Living Tiny?"

Ethan and I discuss how bicycle touring and tiny living have lots in common. We chat about other topics, too -- minimalism, van living, and serendipity, to name a few.

The episode was released well over a week ago. However, I'm slow to share the podcast on my blog because ... surprise! ... I was just at the beginning of a ten-day bicycle tour when the episode was released.

You can listen to the episode below.

Alternatively, click here to navigate to the episode on the interwebs.

Enjoy!

Happy 6th Re-Birthday to Me!

Happy 6th Re-Birthday to Me!

Six years ago today, I held my breath, crossed my fingers, and mixed together the ingredients of the early retirement elixir -- a dash of hope, a dash of crazy, and a whole lot of courage. Voila! All of the sudden, I found myself free of a job, free of the tedium of normalcy, and free of the confines of time.

Biking Vancouver Island: A Photo Journal

Vancouver Island, which lies in the southwest corner of British Columbia, is a paradise of old-growth forests, mountains, oceans, lakes, and rivers. It is a marvelous place for Bathing in the Forest, something I've come to appreciate more-and-more with time.

I first fell in love with Vancouver Island when I backpacked the rugged West Coast Trail in 2010.

My brother (BJ) and me, standing in front of Tsusiat Falls on the West Coast Trail in 2010.

I fell even more in love with Vancouver Island when I spent three weeks Exploring Vancouver Island by car in 2014.

Striking a pose at San Josef Bay in 2014.

And so when I had a few days free after housesitting on Salt Spring Island for a little bike trip, Vancouver Island tugged at my heartstrings.

Cycling the Great Parks North & Great Divide Loop

Sandwiched between staffing two Montana-based Adventure Cycling trips, I spent ten days cycling a loop through British Columbia and Alberta. I departed from Eureka, MT (just south of the Canadian border) and travelled north to Banff, AB along the paved Great Parks North route. I then looped back to Eureka via the unpaved Great Divide route. All in all, the trip was just over 500 miles in length.

My loop.
(Red = the Great Parks North route and
Blue = the Great Divide route)

I really enjoyed the route. It provided a great mix of pavement and off-road riding as well as a great mix of nature and rural and urban settings. I had plenty of opportunities to bathe in the forest and to relish in the beauty of snow-capped peaks, pristine lakes, and colorful wildflowers. Below is a photo journal of my trip. For those interested in the details on my ride, my trip takeaways, route beta, and itinerary are provided at the bottom of this post.

The Marriage of Cycle Touring & REI

What do you get when you marry a girl's passion for cycle touring with her love for everything REI?

Me -- a girl who loves cycle touring and REI.
(Photo: REI)

Need a hint? Do you recognize the girl on the right in the screenshot below?

Biking the Baja Divide: A Photo Journal

At the end of January, I traveled to Mexico to bike the new Baja Divide route. This a photo journal of my trip.

Part I: Biking from Tecate to San Quintin with Ronaldo

I rode the first ~270 miles from Tecate to San Quintin with Ronaldo. We covered this section in just over a week. 

Due to recent heavy rains, the desert in the north was unusually lush.
(Photo: Ron Norton)

Riding the Rectangle: A Photo Journal

Of all the trips I led this summer, my favorite was the informal overnighter that I organized with friends along The Rectangle.

You may recall me mentioning The Rectangle Ride before. In my Bloated Fish & Butt Raisins post from 2013, I wrote about the perfect autumnal ride around The Rectangle. In my Backpacking in Hell's Canyon post from 2015, I mentioned my mid-winter ride around The Rectangle, in which I first saw the aftermath of the Oso landslide. Needless to say, The Rectangle Ride is my favorite close-to-home overnight bike trip.

In mid-September of this year, I rode The Rectangle for the sixth time. I thoroughly enjoyed sharing the ride with six friends. This is a photo journal of our trip.

The Gang (from l to r):
Brad, me, Yonina, David, Faisal, Eric, and El Mecánico.

My Friend Joey

Meet my friend, Joey. She's one of those people that I am really glad to know. After you learn about Joey, you'll be glad you know her, too.

My friend, Joey. (Photo: Joey's Facebook page.)

For most of you, you will have met Joey through this blog post. But for me, I met Joey three summers ago when I was riding my bike eastbound across the country.

A Reply from Brompton

In my last post, The First 800 Miles with My Brompton, I shared my thoughts about my new folding bike. As I explained, the one drawback is the gearing -- I wish I had more optimal gearing for climbing and descending hills, particularly while carrying a load.

A number of you responded to my post saying that you would consider purchasing a Brompton if the gearing were more touring friendly. Your responses encouraged me to reach out to Will Butler-Adams, the CEO of Brompton.

Will Butler-Adams, CEO of Brompton. (Photo: http://makeitbritish.co.uk/)

Here is a snippet of my email to Will, written August 2nd:

Riding the Tetons-Yellowstone Route: A Photo Journal

As mentioned in my previous post, Getting to the Start of the Reconnaissance Ride, I did a solo, self-contained "reconnaissance ride" around the Tetons-Yellowstone loop. Immediately following my Reconnaissance Ride, I co-lead two separate week-long tours around the same route for Adventure Cycling. All in all, the trip included about 800 miles of pedaling. This is a photo journal of my trips.

I picked up Adventure Cycling's Tetons-Yellowstone loop in the town of West Yellowstone, at the far north end of the route. A few miles outside of West Yellowstone, I crossed the Continental Divide and entered Idaho.

Getting to the Start of the Reconnaissance Ride

In just a few days, I will be leading two Tetons/Yellowstone trips for Adventure Cycling. Each trip will be van-supported and will last for eight days. Having been to neither the Tetons nor Yellowstone before, I decided to do a "reconnaissance ride" on my own along the route. The reconnaissance ride would enable me to scout out the area so that I could provide a better trip experience for my riders.

My adventure began at the Greyhound bus station in Seattle. At 11:45pm, I boarded a bus for a 16-hour ride to Bozeman, Montana. Riding straight south from Bozeman would get me to West Yellowstone, at the far northern tip of the Tetons/Yellowstone loop. Note that Bozeman is 120 miles away from West Yellowstone. Though I could have taken a bus to Jackson, Wyoming, which is the official starting and ending point of the Adventure Cycling route, doing so would have meant arriving into an unfamiliar town in the middle of the night. Instead, I opted to ride an extra 240 miles roundtrip in order to arrive in the daytime.

This was my first long-distance bus trip in the United States. I had heard from numerous people that the scum of all scum took Greyhound. I was sorta looking forward to experiencing the scummy experience for myself...but sorta not.

Shortly after arriving at the Seattle Greyhound Station, a man named Reginold Smiley put my mind at ease. Sitting just a few seats away from me, we started chatting as he opened up his sketchbook to draw Greyhound's greyhound.

Meet Reginold Smiley, hobby artist extraordinaire.

It didn't take long for Reginold to draw the greyhound. We hadn't even left the bus station, and we still had many hours ahead of us. Reginold asked if he could make a drawing for me. Really? For me? I'd be flattered! Reginold asked what I wanted him to draw. I hemmed and hawed for a bit, and then I requested that he draw something related to my favorite quote: "Roots hold me close, wings set me free." (See Sailors, Whores, & Ink for more information about this quote.) Reginold started the drawing, saying that he likely wouldn't finish it until mid-bus ride.

My Plans for the Summer

Many of you have asked what I'm up to this summer.

You: What are you up to this summer, Sarah?

Me: I have a jam-packed summer full of housesitting, bike touring, and trip leading. My summer plans are as follows:

• Housesit in Seattle (6 weeks)

My summer plans include housesitting for this lovebug, Ricki, for six weeks!

• Staff Adventure Cycling's Fully-Supported Columbia River Gorge Tour (1 week)
• Do reconnaissance ride around Tetons/Yellowstone (1.5 weeks)
• Lead Adventure Cycling's Van-Supported Tetons/Yellowstone I Tour (1 week)
• Lead Adventure Cycling's Van-Supported Tetons/Yellowstone II Tour (1 week)
• Visit my cousin in Denver (2 days)
• Housesit in Florida (3 weeks)
• Staff Adventure Cycling's Fully-Supported Black Hills - South Dakota Tour (1 week)
• TBD in Pacific Northwest (maybe housesit, maybe bike tour) (1.5 weeks)
• Lead Adventure Cycling's Pacific Coast Epic Tour (6 weeks)

The summer is already well under way, and I'm having a blast. My summer plans sure as heck beat sitting at a desk!

 

My New Set of Wheels

Someone has a new set of wheels. And that someone is me!

Wanna guess what kind of wheels I got? Here's a hint:

My new set of wheels.

Yup, I got myself a Brompton! For those of you not familiar with Bromptons, they are the coolest little folding bicycles on Planet Earth.

Reflections on My Patagonia Trip

My trip to Patagonia ended seven weeks ago. As with all my travels, I have spent time reflecting on the trip.

In Reflections on My Turkey Trip: What I Learned About Myself, I compared life experiences to the tiles in a mosaic. Just as tiles are combined to create a unique picture or pattern, our experiences combine to create a mosaic of our unique selves. And just as a mosaic becomes clearer with a greater density of tiles, our true selves become more apparent as we acquire more life experiences.

The individual tiles in this mosaic are photos from the Patagonia trip.
You may wish to enlarge the image to fully appreciate the mosaic.

The Patagonia trip added more and more tiles to the mosaic of my life. Though some of these experiences confirmed what I already knew, others revealed new insights about Patagonia, Chile, and myself.

The Best & Worst of My Gear

The gear I take on a cycling trip depends on a number of factors, such as the type of tour (paved vs. off-road), the route's proximity to water sources and grocery stores, and the weather. The more miles I tour, the better able I am to dial-in on my gear.

My recent four-month tour to Patagonia proved to be a true gear test. The remoteness of the route, the weather, and the bumpy roads made it quite clear which gear were my favorites and which were my least favorites.

This post describes the best and the worst gear from my trip. For my cycling and outdoorsy friends who enjoy geeking out about gear, read on. For the rest of you, you're more than welcome to bow out, if you'd like.

Best Gear

If you are interested in more information about any of the "Best Gear,", simply click on the photos, and you will be whisked away to the product's webpage. Note that I was not sponsored by any of these products. As such, I am at liberty to share my unedited opinions.

Crazy Creek Hex 2.0 Chair

As is true for most all forms of travel, the general rule is to carry the minimum of what you might need. Excess weight is carried at the cost of energy, comfort, and speed. Minimizing volume has its benefits, too.

Some travelers will go to extreme measures (and extreme costs) to travel as lightly as they can. While I'd just assume pedal with as little weight as possible, I'm also of the frame-of-mind that if I'm going to be living on my bike for a few months, I want to be comfortable. Plus, once you add food and water to your touring load, meticulous savings in gear ounces here-and-there are easily overshadowed. And so on our Patagonia trip, where I knew that seats (even those offered by a picnic table) would be far-and-few-between, carrying the extra weight and volume of a Crazy Creek chair was acceptable.

More Patagonia Photos

We've been back from Chile for a few weeks now. I've been silent on the blog front because I've been crazy-busy tackling a seemingly endless list of to-dos. Not only have I been catching up on being away from "home" for the last four months, but I've also been busy preparing to be away from home again for the next five months. I only have a small window of time to do all of this catching up and preparation. One thing on my to-do list has been to get a copy of Brian's photos from his camera. I now have Brian's photos, and I've chosen my favorites to share with you.

All of the photos I've posted on my blog thus far from our Patagonia trip have been from my camera. Aside from a few exceptions when I handed my camera to someone else and requested that they take a photo of me, most all of my photos have been of El Mecánico or of scenery. As I am in many of Brian's photos, this post proves that I, too, was in Patagonia.

Take this one, for example:

Me, strumming some tunes.

As you may recall from my To the End of the World post, we had a 22-hour layover in Buenos Aires at the beginning of the trip. We spent many of these hours sitting outside the airport entrance, basking in the sun, reading books, and strumming the guitalele (a cross between a guitar and a ukulele). El Mecánico took a photo of me playing his guitalele. Based on the position of my fingers, I was playing Mumford & Son's "After the Storm." (In case you are interested, there is an awesome set of tabs for this song located here.)

Fjords, an Island, and a Volcano

Thursday, March 10th through Tuesday, March 22nd

Leaving Coyhaique, we had two options. We could continue north along the Carretera Austral. Alternatively, we could take a ferry over to the island of Chiloé and bike northwards from there.

Quite frankly, we were done with the Carretera Austral. Though the few kilometers immediately ahead were on pavement and would lead us through a pleasant climate, further beyond we knew that the Carretera meant more terrible roads and wet rainforests.

Me, posing with our last Ruta 7 sign along the Carretera Austral.

We were fine saying goodbye to Ruta 7.

Continuing Along the Carretera Austral

Sunday, February 21st thru Monday, February 29th

We spent the next eight days continuing north along the Carretera Austral. Here are photos from those days:

An early morning start rewards us with breathtaking views of the valley.

The Boardwalks of Caleta Tortel

Friday, February 19th thru Sunday, February 21st

Caleta Tortel is a town that has no roads. Built on a steep hillside, the houses and shops that compose this coastal fishing village are connected by a web of wooden walkways and staircases. All of the town's buildings and public spaces are built on stilts.

One of the public plazas at Caleta Tortel.

We debated whether to visit Caleta Tortel. A town built amongst boardwalks sounded interesting. But we were concerned that we'd be turned off by the tourists. Plus, the town required a 40 km roundtrip detour off the Carretera Austral on a road that has a reputation for being in eternally poor shape.

Finally Starting the Carretera Austral

Tuesday, February 16th thru Friday, February 19th

Located at the southern tip of South America, the Patagonia region stretches across both Chile and Argentina. Within Patagonia, there are two popular cycling routes: Ruta 40 and Ruta 7.

The first, Ruta 40, runs through Argentina. Because of its location on the east side of the Andes, the climate along this route is desert-like, and the terrain is, in my opinion, less-than-interesting. Ruta 7, on the other hand, runs through Chile. Because of its location on the west side of the Andes, the climate is more temperate, and the terrain is much more varied--think lush rainforests, glaciers, and fjords. Whenever you see gorgeous photos of Patagonia, chances are high that you are looking at the Chilean side of Patagonia. I wanted to see those gorgeous views with my own eyes, and for this reason, I chose to bike Ruta 7 through Patagonia.

This gorgeous view, which is of the bridge crossing Río Mayer, is from the Chilean side of the Andes.

Ruta 7 is commonly referred to as the Carretera Austral ("Southern Road"). Extending from Villa O'Higgins in the south to Puerto Montt in the north, the Carretera Austral runs for 1240 km through southern Chile. It is often called "The Road at the End of the Road" because it starts where the PanAmerican Highway ends. The Carretera Austral is represented by the blue line in the map below: