Our visit to a foreign planet

We are convinced Iceland is not another country, it is another planet.
Driving along in our SUV named the Polar Bear, Drew, Eric and I continually find ourselves buried deep in a terrain completely foreign and different than the geography we were just in a few minutes ago. There are mountains covered in waterfalls everywhere...everywhere. The largest glacier in Europe, lava fields, hot springs (Iceland has so much thermal energy boiling under it, it would not surprise us if the entire country just exploded one day), lush green fields, rocks covered think with moss, vast black sand beaches, rock faces that look as if it were impossible for them to form naturally that way...the list goes on and on.


We have trekked off to so many waterfalls and beautiful terrain. I think our favorite though, was talking to a local who gave us secret directions to a natural hot spring next to a river, nestled in the most breathtaking valley, with more waterfalls flowing off the mountains than we could count.

(Above is a picture that doesn't do it close to justice)

The country is littered with off road trails, and consequently, a huge number of the largest jacked up trucks I have ever seen. Iceland begs you to explore and trek off on to rough paths and into no-mans-land. The country´s main road which circles the whole island, actually turns to a dirt road for large sections.

(This is a picture driving down the main road. There are always sheep!)

Last weekend we attended a huge fish festival in a small town that turns from1,200 people to about 30,000 for the festival. The festival is all about friendship and fish, so consequently, there is as much free fish and sea food as you can eat, and people all over the town opening up their homes. The best part of the festival for us was that I really think we may have been the only people not from Iceland there, and most definitely the only ones from America. It was so ´Icelandic!´

We had a few goals on the trip and one was to meet the Prime Minster, or President of Iceland. Not likely of course, but a goal. We found out where both of them lived/worked and we were (naturally) turned away at both places. We were only turned away though, after literally walking right up to the President´s front door of his house and the maid answered. But yet, here we are in the middle of this fish festival in a small town and who walks literally right up? The Prime Minister of Iceland! I saw someone else shake his had while he walked by, and I didn´t know who he was, but after randomly shaking this strangers hand in a suit, we found out that he was the Prime Minister! Our trio and the Minister had a nice chat, and I went back to up him afterwards and talked to him a bit more while we enjoyed Popsicles together. True story...me, the Prime Minister, and Popsicles.


We also stalked, flanked, and caught a sheep which was one of our goals as well. Those guys are fast over Iceland´s rough terrain!


Now in just a few days we head home. So hard to believe. We will put up another post or two, and Eric will definitely be putting more rad photos up when we get home.

Jonathan

We´re in Iceland!!

Paris

We were welcomed to the city of love by my x-bosses, friend's, daughter. This was the only housing this trip we actually had worked out in advance. Helene lives in an apartment as close as you can get to the Eiffel Tower with a perfect view. Her parents house, where we stay, is outside of Paris and in beautiful country side. So we get the perfect balance of the heart of Paris and then being able to relax in country later.

Helene has taken such good care of us. She has prepared many meals (the first night we picnicked right next to the Eiffel Tower), given us maps, phone cards, a cell phone, a car, the list goes on! There were many fun evenings with her and her fiance, and other members of her family. We got to really experience Paris with real Parisians.

Of course we did all the typical things you have to do in Paris as well: visited the Louvre, Notre Dame, the Arc de Triumph, ate at delicious restaurants, and of course (the city of love), had a short romance with the sweet french girl from the bakery.

We fly out in just a few hours to Iceland, where we will join up with the Drew the Man Irwin!

-Jonathan

Relaxing in Style

After the bicycling up that blasted hill, which Eric so loves (and by the way, on the way down, I took a corner too hard and ate it going super fast. Now I have some lovely rode rash, but it was worth it), we again found ourselves so blessed by friends we have made on this trip. Pat, who we sailed here with, has a second home in the Alps, about 80 kilometers from Alpe d'Huez in Bourg St Maurice, and she let us take advantage of it for a while. So after sleeping in fields for a little, we again found ourselves in great comfort in a 3 bedroom, properly equipped apartment. We spent a few days relaxing and hanging out with some of Pat's great UK friends. We almost missed our train out of Bourg St Maurice leaving a small party with our new friends, finding it so hard to pull away.
*Pat you are the best!!! Thank you so much!*

Being close to the border, we hitchhiked through Italy back up to Chamonix, where we met up with one of our friends, got her to get her car, and headed back into Italy for some Italian dinner. It is such a nice concept to be able to just hop across the border to Italy for the day.


Jonathan

Alpe d'Huez

While Jonathan was playing in the sand in Spain, I was in the mountains taking care of some serious bike riding.

Call me what you’d like, but I enjoy riding my bike up big mountains. So upon leaving Pamplona, I decided to ride back over the Pyrenees Mountains into France. After pulling my trailer over the mountain range with surprising ease and time to spare, I turned my attention to some of the toughest climbs in the Pyrenees. I rode over the Col du Tourmalet two days in a row, enjoying the transition from the valley road by the river, up through the wooded areas, then above the treeline into the high meadows and bolder-fields, then up to the cliffs and literally into the clouds before reaching the top, before screaming back down again. It was great fun in the Pyrenees, but all the while I had a single goal in my mind: Alpe d’Huez.

Alpe d’Huez is the stuff of cycling legends. One of the most grueling climbs of the Tour de France and certainly the most famous, every climber in the world dreams winning atop this fabled mountain. I remember being in the middle of the Atlantic day-dreaming about the climb, my boat-mates calling me crazy.

13.8 Kilometers
21 Hairpin bends
3,350 ft elevation gain

Over the years the Alpe has become a proving ground for amateur cyclists, and during the summer months, the twisted road plays host to a constant stream of riders racing against the clock, many of whom require 2hrs to reach the top. By now, the place has become a cycling Mecca.

By the time Jonathan and I reached the bottom, my legs were absolutely spent from Chamonix, and I was in no shape to slay my dragon. Over the next two days, we watched the Tour de France come and go, and I had a great time running alongside the leading riders (I even made it on international TV!). Another day and several dozen bananas later, it was time for me to make my own assault, and by this time, I was ready. What I didn’t expect, however, was any company from Jonathan. He had spent the last two months expressing his distaste for any kind of uphill riding (using adjectives such as stupid, pointless, and the like), and literally laughing at the prospect of riding up the likes of Alpe d’Huez. But the night before I was to ride, he had a sudden change of heart and announced that he would ride as well!

I awoke the next morning feeling nervous with anticipation. My official goal was to ascend in the time of an hour and a half, but deep down, I really wanted to be on the quick side of 1’15”. I started off fast, on a pace that I could barely hold. The steepest bit is at the bottom, and I struggled to crest the knuckle before hitting the wall. I knew I had to concentrate and keep my body right on the limit, but none past. As the road wound farther up the mountain, I nearly cracked with 2Ks to go, but somehow managed to keep it together.

I made it. So did Jonathan!

The times:

Jonathan Jenkins: 1hr 20min

Eric Mackintosh: 1hr 03min

Lance Armstrong: 37min 36sec

-Eric

Chamonix

Alpine Adventures

Chamonix is a small town nestled deep in the alps and is the birth place of some of the worlds most legendary climbing. Obvisously this was too much for us to pass up.

We stayed with some incredible locals. Our friend we stayed with, Dennis, holds world records for skiiing, and every year, someone he knows dies in the mountains. This is a town of true adventurers.

Talking with some of the girls we stayed with, they warned us it was too dangerous to go up without a guide. Once we found out guides were too expensive, the girls begged us not to go up alone. The next morning we went up alone.
Sometimes it was scary, but always it was dangerous.

The first day we almost didnt make it off the mountain.

The next day when we went up, Eric fell, caught himself with one arm, narrowly escaping the depths of a cravasse.

This night we stayed out in the wild and pitched our tent on a glacier. The storming weather made us set up tent earlier than we had planned, and that night the fierce winds kept us up a lot of the night, re-staking our tent and trying to keep it from being blown apart.
We can try, but it is almost a futile attempt to explain how much we loved climbing the ice and being on top of snowy peaks.
Jonathan

camping in strange places.

A night with Gypsies

Backing up a little...
About a week ago, we were with our large travel group of 6 people and we landed at the Train Station in Toulouse. We got there late at night and could not get out of town to find some nature to camp in. So, we had to take to urban camping and look for a spot to sleep in this large French city. The canal ran right down the center of town, and there was a large slew of gypsies sleeping along the canal in tents. Perfect! Around 11pm we found an empty spot of grass between large groups of gypsies and started on our dinner. We stuck out quite obviously to the gypsies and soon had a Moroccan join us on our blanket. He spoke no English, but communicated that he will help protect us. Of course this was unsolicited but we didn't think much about it. Later some others came over to talk to us about Obama, and the one gypsy started to push them away. No matter how much we tried to tell him they were fine, things escalated. He felt it his duty to 'protect' us. Soon gypsies were rolling around fighting all around us, pulling out beer bottles to hit each other and punching and tackling. Oddly enough, each side was fighting 'for' us, but regardless, being that our group contained two girls, we felt it more safe to camp another place. Our Ritz Carlton for that night ended up being under a bright covering at the train station.

-Adventures in the Alps to come soon...

Jonathan

Crash Count

Updated crash count:

Jonathan: 2
Eric: 1

Over the bars, crushed helmet.

Not to worry, I'm still smiling.

-Eric

Barcelonic High Times

Great week in Barcelona with Brian. We stayed in a happening hostel right on the main strip and encountered sooo many English speaking travelers. Brian and I ran Barcelona. Getting massages on the beaches from Thai ladies, selling tickets to a club on the streets we were given for some cash, parting in the clubs and somehow I got us into the VIP section sipping on champagne...The list goes on and on. Our favorite friends were our Aussie girls and Team Belguim.

The Aussie have been hooking us up on this trip! Our Aussie girls cooking for us and such and just being rad fun, meeting another Aussie couple, who offered Brian and I a ride trying to get across france back to Eric (it was quite a scene fitting four of us, four bags, and my bicycle into a compact Mercedes!), then another set of Aussies took Brian and I around to see the tour on the top of a mountain stage!

Last night I met back up with Eric and his crew of 7. We met a lovely french family, who open there garden for us to sleep in. After enjoying dancing and festivities for Bastile day last night, it was so great to wake up to a large breakfast spread for the lot of us!
Today the massive group splits up and heads different ways.

A crazy building we snuck into.
Amazing Barcelona Architecture
When in Rome do as the Romans! Brian and I on the beaches of Barcelona.

Jonathan

Adrenaline

Walking down a crowded street around 11pm and feel a hand reach in my pocket. I quickly grabbed the wrist of the attempting pick pocket and in a sec he disappears in the tight crowd. Not long after though Eric points him out, and I take off after him. We did not meet a single person during San Fermin that did not personally know someone who was not victimised by theft. I catch him pick him up by the shirt (a smaller guy in his upper 20s) and start to bring him to the police. With the help of two of his friend who show up (much bigger than him, who luckily did not end up putting up to much assistance for there friend), he shakes out of his shirt and begins to run again. This time when I catch him I pick the thief up in a choke hold and begin to carry the fighting man to the police. Again his friends help him get free and he takes off shirtless frantically through the crowd. Eric starts to catch up with him and steer him towards me, while I run to the far side of the crowd. There I meet him in a whirlwind and flipped him upside down slamming him into the ground. Before I could get a good hold on him again, he bounded through people, and after knocking over people disappeared through the crowd. Hopefully the whole encounter will at least slightly discourage his pick pocketing. Opening ceremony

Bull Run and Bull Fights

Running with the Bulls is one of the biggest adrenaline rushes in the world. Thousands of other men running down the road next to you in terror from the sound of hooves getting louder at an enormous pace. You are half in fear of the bulls, half in fear of the panicking crowd pushing and shoving. If you go down in the run, you stay down. If you attempt to get back up, you will be trampled and cause a huge pile up. I ran with two of my friends with down the packed road as fast as we could with pure elation and yet great fear and worry.

We made it "safe" into the bull ring, and now they put away the running bulls, and let the hyped up mass of men have their own bull fights as they release 6 bulls on at a time into the ring. After keeping safe enough distance for the first 2 bulls, I decided that I was not going to let myself regret not going for it. I ran at and swatted at the bull trying to keep enough distance. The bull put his head down and then scooped me up, hitting me in the rear, and threw me high into the air. If the adrenaline and excitement weren't enough to satisfy already, the thousand in the fighting coliseum erupted with cheering and applause.

This picture shows when the next bull would be released into the ring, a group of us would get on our hands and knees, cover your head, and the charging bull would emerge charging out of the dark tunnel and leap over/on us.

Too much was going on the take many pictures this week. The above ones were from the internet just to give perspective. Here is our only one!

It was one of the greatest experiences of my life. It FAR exceeded what I expected. Such excitement. Thank the Lord I made it out all safe.





For Eric, he maybe used more wisdom and decided the bad would out weigh the good and did not run.

Now I am in Barcelona with new friends and Eric is riding to see some of the Tour De France with a few guys. We will meet back up in one week in France.

Bulls and Thieves

7-6-08

We are in Pamplona, Spain for the legendary San Fermin week long festival. Many people know this as the Running of the Bulls.

Today was the kick-off and the craziness will not subside for 8 more days. There are thousands of people here, and I would say the word most often fitting to describe everything is pandemonium. At the opening thousands of peoples crowded into a small square in front of city hall. Crowded is an extreme understatement, there were many more thousands who could not fit into the square, but were pushing to get in like a football team with the strength of an army of people. When it hits noon people spray Sangria and Champagne everywhere. Because of this glass covers the road, not a few bottles, but everywhere and all broken up. I was right in the center, and being that I was not drunk like 90% of everyone else, I was trying my hardest to stay off the ground and keep my feet from getting sliced up too terribly. It was like a ferocious mosh pit with no room for even your chest to move out and back. After the pack started to move out to the other streets, I threw away my shoes (white shoes I had bought for the festival...everyone wears all white and red) which where now covered in blood from my feet and ankles.

The first bull Run is tomorrow. I will watch this one and do the next.

Jonathan


7/7/08

Well unlike Jonathan, I've been trying to stay out of as much trouble as possible, and have done no bleeding yet. It is absolute insanity, but loads of fun.

Being that we're on a pretty low budget trip, we haven't been staying in a hotel or hostel here in Pamplona, but have been camping in the park with hundreds of other travelers from the world across. With this comes lots of fun and other advantages, but also some drawbacks. The word from the curb is to watch your stuff SUPER closely because there are plenty of vultures lurking and we'd heard stories of people getting passports stolen, etc. We even heard of a pair who put all their valuables in their sleeping bags with them during the night, but awoke to find their bags slit and their possessions missing.

Today while we were chillin in the park, a Spanishman approaches and says he just saw three guys take a bag out of a circle of friends we'd met as they snoozed, take some stuff out, and throw the bag in the trash. The bag was sure enough found in the trash, valuables gone. Two of the perps had split, but one is pretending to sleep not far away. The police are supposedly looking into the situation, but we aren't seeing any evidence of this, so Jonathan forms up a posse and goes over to confront the posing sleeper.

Jonathan throws the empty bag onto our new friend and demands if he speaks English and if he recognizes the bag. The guy denies everything, but Jonathan and crew aren't giving up so easily, and ask the guy if he'd like it if random people went through his bag. This is exactly what proceeds to happen, and upon opening the bag, the booty was revealed: a cache of apparently stolen goods. Also a big kitchen knife, assumingly for slitting bags open. With weak excuses to explain all this away, the guy became more and more trapped, right as his two compradres were approaching.

Jonathan ends up confiscating the knife and sticking it in his sash (part of the typical festival garb) like a pirate while dealing with the trio until the police arrive. In the end, and all three men were arrested, and evidence taken. For sometime afterwards, murmurs were heard throughout the camp of the tall, knife wearing American who took down the thieves.

Never a dull moment!

Eric

Cycling Food

Dinner for Eric and Jonathan after a long day in the saddle

Ingredients:

One loaf of bread

10 hot dogs

And one hunk of cheese

Each!

(all melted over an open fire of course)

After 125Ks yesteray, we didn't look at the maps long before crashing out.

Fun in France

We love Castles!!
hitchhiking on a lightly traveled mountain road = a beautiful hike on a lightly traveled mountain road

Andorra and a private Chalet by the River

Our 'plans' for this trip consisted mainly of no plans just 'Be Flexible.' We were going to be heading west these past few days but from meeting locals and finding things out, we have been changing plans and have stayed longer.
Two days ago we hitch hiked to Andorra, a tiny county under 200 sq miles with just over 70,000 people, on the French and Spanish border. Where we were in the country was about 6000 feet in elevation so we left our bikes at a friends house in France and used our thumbs to reach Andorra. After a night in the mountainous, snow capped, duty free country, we went back to France. We took a different route over the Pyrenees mountains back and when our last ride left us at the peak of the mountain, we did not get another ride (nor see more than a few cars) for the next 5 hours. Eric and I descended the mountain's switch back roads for all the hours mostly in silence in awe of the beauty of the walk. Luckily, it was not a walk we minded.

When we got back to the bikes, our English friend, Collen, offered us his chalet near his house to stay in. The chalet is set next to the river at the bottom of a extremely deep gorge. So again, we gladly changed plans a little and we stayed here a few days.
Biking through a gorge.
Just after our last ride from Andorra before we started hiking down.

Jonathan

photos

Camping in Castles

Excellent view from our bedroom this morning in the tower of a castle. We camped out here after stashing our bikes and climbing up the mountain.

French Countryside
The raddest Castle ever, this one fully restored and quite impressive. (Two days ago)
On the climb to camp in the castle, I found a small opening in the rock wall. Jumping in we discovered in to be a caveren! The difficult decent was made slightly more cumbersome, but more fun as well, going down the steep, wet, dark walls with camera gear! Eric got some sick pics though that will hopefully be up soon.

Along the Canal

We are loving France.
A lot of fresh bread and other baked goods.
The roadsides and villages are just what was expected and very...well...French.
We have been riding along the Canal Du Midi. Sometimes the roads are great, sometimes we should only be attempting the road with a well equipped mountain bike. Going down a steep, very rocky decent today, I popped a tire.
What looks like a brigde behind our camp site is actually the canal over the river.

We found a small castle tucked away in a vineyard today and ate tiny apricots till I was going to explode.

Last night was a Nation-wide, French music festival. From the ancient fortified city of Beziers we saw probably 7 different bands of all sorts.

Thanks Dad for the camera!

Jonathan