In which we return to the long-forgotten Sulawesi account (apologies for the interruption)
Saturday, March 12
5th cycle day 88 km
Tentena - Pendolo
Scenic mountain route skirting Lake Poso through a mostly unpopulated forest
Swimming and Yoga
Accommodation in lakeside cottages
We left Tentena and started riding around the lake on a road that I think had been characterized as "undulating" in the promotional literature--but it was definitely hilly!
During a rest stop at a warung we met a woman who was the pastor of the local (Christian) church. She invited us into her house to talk. We learned about the different kinds of Christianity at the four (!) different churches in the town, heard about how they evangelize to the "wild people" who live in the jungle and wear tree bark for clothing, and saw her many posters of some really awful-looking Aussie pop group pinned on all the walls.
We also stopped by the house of a prosperous pineapple farmer. He had a really snazzy motorcycle-driven pickup and a beautiful garden.
I don't know how he did so well selling pineapples, but he was one of the most comfortable people we met.
We stopped for lunch at a little roadside warung at the crest of a big hill. As we lounged in the aftermath of the meal, we saw black clouds approaching quickly across the hills, and decided to wait the storm out rather than trying to ride through heavy rain. A cluster of drivers-all men-trickled into the warung, clearly having the same idea.
One guy who caught my eye was wearing an old bucket-style motorcycle helmet and holding a rooster. I noticed him because of the way he was holding the rooster-like it was a pet, not a future dinner. He clearly felt affection for it. Later I saw it walking around and noticed that it was limping and could hardly use its right leg. I asked the guy about it and he put his fists up, miming fighting, and I realized this must be a fighting cock. Looking at its legs, I could see where spurs would be attached. Even though he was lamed, the rooster walked around with an air of confidence, and the other chickens made space for him at the bowl of corn when he walked up.
It was interesting. Later on, toward the end of the trip, we met a guy who bred fighting cocks for sale. So cockfighting seems to be an Entertainment in Sulawesi.
The rain was torrential, but lasted only 30 minutes or so, and when it faded to a drizzle we saddled up and got on the road again. Somehow I ended up alone on the road when I came across a huge hive-like object in the left lane. It must have been dislodged in the storm.
I had no idea what it was, and I wasn't going to poke it to find out! After I got back to Japan, M looked at my photos and informed me that it was a termite nest.
Eventually the road flattened out and the last 10k of the day were lovely and flat, along peaceful acres of farmland. The air was hot and still and as the shadows lengthened it felt almost like an afternoon in Iowa, complete with the insects buzzing in the trees. But there were banana trees where you would have seen maples, and rice instead of soybeans.
When we turned into the driveway of our lakeside hotel in Pendolo, it felt like the ride ended too soon. We were all hot and tired and ran straight into the lake in our cycling gear. It felt fantastic.
The rain started up again as we laid out our yoga mats. Certain of the group took the opportunity to bugger off for their rooms, muttering about getting their laundry out of the rain, and never came back again. It was a very challenging session for me--I don't know about Charlie--and everyone else just kind of gave up. It was the beginning of the Yoga Rebellion.
Dinner afterward was a quiet affair, and we turned in quickly. The next day was supposed to have some Serious Climbs, and we wanted to be ready.
5th cycle day 88 km
Tentena - Pendolo
Scenic mountain route skirting Lake Poso through a mostly unpopulated forest
Swimming and Yoga
Accommodation in lakeside cottages
We left Tentena and started riding around the lake on a road that I think had been characterized as "undulating" in the promotional literature--but it was definitely hilly!
During a rest stop at a warung we met a woman who was the pastor of the local (Christian) church. She invited us into her house to talk. We learned about the different kinds of Christianity at the four (!) different churches in the town, heard about how they evangelize to the "wild people" who live in the jungle and wear tree bark for clothing, and saw her many posters of some really awful-looking Aussie pop group pinned on all the walls.
We also stopped by the house of a prosperous pineapple farmer. He had a really snazzy motorcycle-driven pickup and a beautiful garden.
I don't know how he did so well selling pineapples, but he was one of the most comfortable people we met.
We stopped for lunch at a little roadside warung at the crest of a big hill. As we lounged in the aftermath of the meal, we saw black clouds approaching quickly across the hills, and decided to wait the storm out rather than trying to ride through heavy rain. A cluster of drivers-all men-trickled into the warung, clearly having the same idea.
One guy who caught my eye was wearing an old bucket-style motorcycle helmet and holding a rooster. I noticed him because of the way he was holding the rooster-like it was a pet, not a future dinner. He clearly felt affection for it. Later I saw it walking around and noticed that it was limping and could hardly use its right leg. I asked the guy about it and he put his fists up, miming fighting, and I realized this must be a fighting cock. Looking at its legs, I could see where spurs would be attached. Even though he was lamed, the rooster walked around with an air of confidence, and the other chickens made space for him at the bowl of corn when he walked up.
It was interesting. Later on, toward the end of the trip, we met a guy who bred fighting cocks for sale. So cockfighting seems to be an Entertainment in Sulawesi.
The rain was torrential, but lasted only 30 minutes or so, and when it faded to a drizzle we saddled up and got on the road again. Somehow I ended up alone on the road when I came across a huge hive-like object in the left lane. It must have been dislodged in the storm.
I had no idea what it was, and I wasn't going to poke it to find out! After I got back to Japan, M looked at my photos and informed me that it was a termite nest.
Eventually the road flattened out and the last 10k of the day were lovely and flat, along peaceful acres of farmland. The air was hot and still and as the shadows lengthened it felt almost like an afternoon in Iowa, complete with the insects buzzing in the trees. But there were banana trees where you would have seen maples, and rice instead of soybeans.
When we turned into the driveway of our lakeside hotel in Pendolo, it felt like the ride ended too soon. We were all hot and tired and ran straight into the lake in our cycling gear. It felt fantastic.
The rain started up again as we laid out our yoga mats. Certain of the group took the opportunity to bugger off for their rooms, muttering about getting their laundry out of the rain, and never came back again. It was a very challenging session for me--I don't know about Charlie--and everyone else just kind of gave up. It was the beginning of the Yoga Rebellion.
Dinner afterward was a quiet affair, and we turned in quickly. The next day was supposed to have some Serious Climbs, and we wanted to be ready.