{"id":75,"date":"2010-08-12T20:54:24","date_gmt":"2010-08-12T18:54:24","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.worldbiking.info\/wordpress\/?p=75"},"modified":"2018-02-14T08:46:29","modified_gmt":"2018-02-14T13:46:29","slug":"biking-brazil-an-adventure-fix","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/www.worldbiking.info\/wordpress\/2010\/08\/biking-brazil-an-adventure-fix\/","title":{"rendered":"Biking Brazil- an adventure fix"},"content":{"rendered":"

<\/a><\/a><\/p>\n

\u201cWhich way now?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI dunno.\u201d<\/p>\n

The road suddenly split into two and we were stumped.\u00a0 One narrow dusty track continued straight on.\u00a0 The other, the more travelled of the two judging from t<\/a>he tire tracks, veered off to the right.<\/p>\n

\"IMG_7142-amaya-rock\"When we\u2019d set off just after sunrise, nobody in the tiny village where we\u2019d spent the night had mentioned a fork in the road.\u00a0 Not the proprietor of the town\u2019s only shop, where we\u2019d splurged on a two-liter bottle of refreshing Guaran\u00e1 Antarctica– \u2018O Original do Brazil\u2019<\/em> boasted the label.<\/p>\n

Not the two middle-aged ladies wrapped in shawls who\u2019d gotten up early to see us off. They\u2019d bounded into our indoor campsite with smiles and steaming cups of overly-sweet coffee.\u00a0 We\u2019d camped out at the local school.\u00a0 Pitched the tent right in the middle of the grade two classroom, amongst the child-sized desks and hopeful drawings depicting Brazil winning their 6th<\/sup> World Cup.<\/p>\n

Our arrival, in this tiny forgotten village far from any asphalt road, had caused quite a stir.\u00a0\u00a0 Not an Africa-sized stir with hordes of shouting kids and crying babies.\u00a0 But a dignified Brazilian stir\u2026meaning kids strolled over to the cinder-block school to hang out and peek in the windows to get a better look at us–the crazy foreigners on bikes.<\/p>\n

Adults dropped by to ask how it was that we\u2019d ended up in their village, so far off the beaten track.\u00a0 Weren\u2019t foreign tourists supposed to flock to Rio\u2019s famous beaches and parade around the colonial cities of Salvador and Ouro Preto?\u00a0 Our hosts politely enquired if we were in need of a place to shower (we were, of course) and invite us for a meal (we didn\u2019t decline).\u00a0\u00a0 In this far-flung village, we were treated with an odd mix of welcome wagon friendliness and KGB curiosity.<\/p>\n

\"IMG_7083-cactus-road\"
Not a soul to disturb us on this quiet road.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

Beyond the village there was just the road. It was a dusty red-dirt road, deeply rutted and surrounded by vast stretches of empty land.\u00a0 The last vehicle had roared by more than three hours ago.<\/p>\n

By my estimates, we were stranded some 60 kilometers from the next village.\u00a0 60 kilometers, that is, if we chose our path well.\u00a0 Our map was useless.\u00a0 We\u2019d plunged off the grid into adventure.<\/p>\n

Most adventures are nothing more than foolish expressions of self-indulgence by the bored and restless.\u00a0 Ours was no different.\u00a0 We were up for the adrenaline rush of getting lost in the middle of nowhere.<\/p>\n

Reason assured me that our predicament wasn\u2019t all that serious. This was not an extreme situation.\u00a0 Nothing like our ill-conceived plan to bike through a remote region of northern Kenya\u00a0 best known for tribal warfare between the Pokots and the Turkanas.<\/p>\n

No, the backroads of Brazil are tame in comparison, like climbing the Cascades as opposed to taking on Everest.<\/p>\n

Turning back was always an option.\u00a0 Well, unless your partner is as stubborn as an American pioneer heading west.\u00a0 Nope, I knew there was no turning back with my husband at the helm.\u00a0 Eric would wither up and die of thirst before turning back to the village and admit defeat.<\/p>\n

\"The<\/a>
the roads are really empty<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

A part of me thrived on the element of danger, however slight.\u00a0 Pedaling Africa\u2019s rough pistes <\/em>gave me a sense of purpose and genuine aliveness that I had missed since moving on to more subdued cycling in South America.<\/p>\n

I was comfortable cranking out a 100 kilometers a day on Brazil\u2019s busy highways, scrounging around for a safe place to sleep and then pulling myself out of the tent the following day to do it all over again.\u00a0 This routine had become my \u2018day at the office\u2019 and, in the end, left me restless and longing for more.\u00a0 Which, I suppose, had led to our landing at the unmarked fork in the road.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe should definitely go to the right,\u201d insisted Eric.\u00a0 \u201cThe tracks that way are much deeper.\u00a0 The other way probably just disappears into nothing or leads to some far-off fazenda<\/em>.\u00a0 He spoke with the confidence of an aboriginal tracker, pointing to ruts in the road as sure signs as to the correct direction to follow.<\/p>\n

I was less sure.\u00a0 Why would the road suddenly shift direction from south to east?\u00a0 Maybe we ought to just bide our time until a vehicle passed.<\/p>\n

\u201cNah, we can\u2019t sit around here baking in the sun using up all our water.\u00a0 Trust me, I\u2019ve got a feeling about this.\u00a0 We should definitely turn right.\u201d<\/p>\n

I\u2019d been hearing a lot about Eric\u2019s intuition lately.\u00a0 Especially when I was nearing my freaking out threshold.\u00a0 \u201cDon\u2019t worry,\u201d he\u2019d say as the sun was sliding below the horizon.\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cThey\u2019ll be a farm up ahead.\u00a0 Trust me.\u00a0 We won\u2019t end up camping by the roadside.\u201d<\/p>\n

\"IMG_7016-bridge\"<\/a>
A rickety bridge in the middle of no where.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

And so far he\u2019d been right.\u00a0 Just as that anxious tingly sensation in the pit of my stomach threatened to spring into a full-fledged freaking out, we\u2019d spot lights on the horizon.\u00a0 We\u2019d pull up to some lonely cattle ranch, blurt out our story and\u2014this being friendly Brazil\u2014be invited in to spend the night.\u00a0 Given a place to pitch the tent, and usually a filling meal to energize us for the next day\u2019s riding.\u00a0\u00a0 And I always got my shower.\u00a0 ALWAYS.<\/p>\n

But still I was a doubter.\u00a0 It wasn\u2019t exactly pessimism that afflicted me.\u00a0 More like a fear that if I got too comfortable with things always going my way, some terrible catastrophe would take me by surprise.<\/p>\n

Reluctantly, I bounced along beside Eric on the road heading east.\u00a0 Apart from the tall sun-scorched grasses swaying in the breeze, there was an almost complete stillness about the place.\u00a0 Even the birds were silent and the land ached of an eery loneliness.<\/p>\n

Just a month earlier we\u2019d been pummeled by tropical storms, but now we were crossing country as dry as the Arizona desert.<\/p>\n

We rattled along the trail for some time.\u00a0 I fretted about our depleting supply of water and anguished over the thought of a day without a shower.\u00a0\u00a0 This would make a fine spot for a mountain biking competition, I mused.<\/p>\n

And then, quite unexpectedly, we found ourselves in a cloud of dust speeding down a steep hill.\u00a0 At the bottom, a tropical oasis spread out before us.\u00a0 Graceful palm trees shaded the road, transporting us back to the lushness of Amazonia.<\/p>\n

In front of us stood a rickety wooden bridge.\u00a0\u00a0 During the rainy season, I imagined, a fast-flowing river raged below .\u00a0 But on that day, the river was nothing but a gentle trickle of water.<\/p>\n

As several planks were missing and others badly worn, I tip-toed across.\u00a0 Safely on the other side and reassured by the fact that we\u2019d stumbled upon a water source, a wave of relief swept over me.<\/p>\n

We forged on and within minutes came upon a thatched shack by the side of the road.\u00a0 Out front a toddler dug in the red clay earth.\u00a0 A woman was busy chopping onions while two men lounged in hammocks.<\/p>\n

\u201cBoa tarde,\u201d I called out.\u00a0 The men stared up in silence and the woman carried on with her chopping.\u00a0 It was the chilliest welcome I\u2019d ever received in Brazil.<\/p>\n

\"IMG_7102-dirtroad\"<\/a>
Looks like there's tarmac ahead.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

I blurted out some words which were intended to mean \u201cIs this the way to the village?\u201d\u00a0 It was a very approximate Portuguese, but I\u2019d found that Brazilians are highly forgiving when it comes to bungling up their language.<\/p>\n

A long silence followed, \u00a0in which I wondered if \u00a0the taciturn men were plotting some evil deed.\u00a0 We were, after all, two–quite obviously \u2018rich\u2019– foreign tourists stuck in the middle of nowhere.\u00a0 We were entirely at the mercy \u00a0of the men and they knew it.<\/p>\n

Finally, the younger of the two, a hard-faced man with leathery skin, gestured in the direction we were headed.\u00a0 \u201cThat way,\u201d he grunted.<\/p>\n

\u201cObrigada,\u201d I muttered and hightailed it out of there.\u00a0\u00a0 There are some people I\u2019d just rather not get to know better.<\/p>\n

The sun was a fiery orange and they air had taken on a refreshing coolness before we finally pedaled into the next tiny village.\u00a0 We had crossed paths with no one that afternoon.<\/p>\n

Again, we were welcomed by friendly locals who opened up the school.\u00a0\u00a0 We pitched the tent among the tiny desks and slept peacefully until morning when we got up, hopped on the bikes and headed for tarmac.\u00a0 We\u2019d had our adventure fix, now it was back to the daily grind.<\/p>\n

\"IMG_7011-brazil-road\"<\/a>
Some amazing scenery,<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

\u201cWhich way now?\u201d \u201cI dunno.\u201d The road suddenly split into two and we were stumped.\u00a0 One narrow dusty track continued straight on.\u00a0 The other, the more travelled of the two judging from the tire tracks, veered off to the right.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":74,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0},"categories":[14,12,49],"tags":[259,13],"yoast_head":"\nBiking Brazil- an adventure fix - Worldbiking.info<\/title>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" href=\"http:\/\/www.worldbiking.info\/wordpress\/2010\/08\/biking-brazil-an-adventure-fix\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"Biking Brazil- an adventure fix - 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