BCI - Ride Reports, Moyer

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My (Mis)Adventures in the Phillipines
by Norm Moyer

“Everyday exposed us to unexpected differences from what we see back home.”

Norm Moyer in the Phillipines March 13, 2009

Seven of us were on a 4 week self-contained loop bike tour of this 7000+ island country. Our big adventure day, as things would turn out, started out routinely. There were no rains so there were no problems biking about 44 miles, to arrive before noon at the ferry that goes from Leyte Island to the south end of Luzon Island.

We were down to 5 riders due to sickness, and two others left to check out the other ferry which left from almost the same location. But they never returned with an update. Instead, they took that other ferry. That turned out to be the best choice by far. Our ferry left at 2:45 pm, 1 hour and 45 minutes late. Thus, the 3 of us set out for the day’s destination at 4:30 PM and followed the coastal route on the map.

The destination was up the coast, so what could go wrong? Never mind that a close look at a small-scaled map revealed that the road line was dotted, probably meaning not maintained, or very rugged terrain. Past the first town of Santa Magdalena, the road dead ended into -- what else? -- a cemetery! Backtracking, we found our coastal road north, but we were told it became a narrow hiking trail, and there was a very narrow bridge that not even a motorbike could use.

A fellow rider’s most memorable quote of the tour came next: "Oh what the hell; it's only 20K, I'm going.” He started immediately so we followed. We didn't get very far before the road deteriorated and darkness fell, but at least we had good bike lights. With the rocks, ruts, mud, and steepness we often had to walk our bikes. It was hard to push the loaded bikes uphill, so we’d to stop and rest by squeezing the brakes. But this isn’t work because the bike slid backwards in the mud. We went past a mudslide that blocked most of the road and left only a sloppy path that couldn’t be used by a wheeled vehicle. Then we came to where the bridge that was out and a pedestrian bridge that was in place. It was four lashed-bamboo poles, with at least one gap wider than a bike tire, and a reasonably sturdy hand railing.

We couldn't even see how deep the chasm was. Because my panniers are wide, I walked across first. Once the bikes were walked across, we struggled onward, often walking the bikes. Evidently, the bridge had been out so long that absolutely no effort at road maintenance was expended, and the "road" itself was covered in grass with wet mud. We could only see it in the dark because it had no trees.

I was dropped again but met the other two just as they returned from a dead-end wrong turn. Eventually, we came to a small village with a few lights, and everyone in town seemed to be there including lots of kids. So, we explained that we were lost, tired, didn't know where or how far to go, and needed a place to sleep. We were given some water (?) and bought a couple cookies. We were directed to sleep in a building equipped with a toilet in an adjoining room. It seemed to be a combination of town hall and one-room school. I decided to sleep in all my biking clothes, only adding my rolled up rain jacket as a pillow.

I awoke frequently due to pressure on “contact points” from my hard "bunk", which was an uninstalled hollow door. Even my handkerchief provided some relief. One of us slept on a table; the other had the luxury of his sleeping bag to cushion the plywood he was on. Our final distance for the day was 63 miles – to NOWHERE!

The next day we punched on for another 5 miles to yesterday’s goal town. More mud, rocks, up-hills, and ruts much of the way, meaning lots of pushing the bike. The front tire liked to go sideways in slippery mud if the bike tilted, a tilt was nice because otherwise the rear pannier kept hitting our legs. Once, riding slowly on a downhill segment, I stepped off the bike and stayed vertical as it slid and fell over. The next time that happened, I lost balance trying to do the same thing and took a slow speed roll on the ground. Finally, at the town, we had a local breakfast with a Coke.

Analysis: We weren't hungry, cold, in rain or pain, and we had good lights, so why weren’t we happy campers?

Broken routine: No evening meal, no shower, no hotel, usual companions, no attainment of the day's goal.
The uncertainty of it all: We didn't know the conditions or distance that ahead.

The risk: Were we digging a hole and then jumping in?

What did I learn from this?

1. You’ve got lots of reserve capacity to handle tougher than expected situations, but you don’t use it happily.

2. Listening to impulsive people or sticking with a group no matter what can make your problems worse.

Overall, the whole tour was an eye-opening experience. We really saw day-to-day life there, and to our share of culture shock. Every day exposed us to unexpected differences from what we see back home. I lost all my pictures and sometimes feel I would like to go back next year with some friends and recapture them.