Today I’m supposed to write about our whole stay in La Paz. I don’t like doing summaries. I tried to get out of it but couldn’t. Oh well.
We started by staying with some German friends. I don’t know what their last name is. They had a dog named Flecky. That’s apparently German for Spotty. It was surprisingly a dalmation. She was very nice. She liked to bark at birds in the trees. I liked her.
After two weeks we moved to the Casa de Ciclistas. There they have 2 dogs. One named Anita and the other Bailey. Anita is a girl, Bailey a boy. They are both really cute. Bailey is older, but I don’t know by how much. I can tell he’s older by the white hair on his snout. They are cocker spaniels. I like the dogs.
Three weeks ago we came here to La Paz. First we went to Rainer Wolff’s house but they weren’t there. They had a dog named Flecky. Flecky was a good dog. I really liked her. We stayed there for about a week and a half before Rainer got back with his son Adrian. We stayed a few more days with them.
Then we went and met the Verhages again. The next day we moved in with them in the Casa de Cyclistas. It is a good place to live. Nearby was a good place where you can play Play Station. We mostly played Modern Warfare 2. I was always teamed up with Jessie because he couldn’t play with anyone else because he LOVED offense and everybody else liked defense.
When the Verhages left a few days later Daryl and I fought each other in multi player. I kept killing him so he blamed the Play Station for cheating. I ended up stopping
playing with him because he complained every time we played together. We then went to the internet cafe near the house and played Diablo 2 together.
This morning the guy that runs the Casa de Ciclistas took us to a racing place (the highest velodrome in the world) and we rode racing bikes around a track. It was fun but I was very nervous because I couldn’t free wheel and there were no brakes but, overall I think our stay in La Paz has been worth it.
“Are you crazy?” I shouted at my husband when he came home one day and proposed a major bike trip with our sons. “Have you lost your bloody mind? We are parents, dear husband! We have children! We have to do what every red-blooded American parent does: stay at home and raise our boys the right way – by staying home like everyone else.”
But then I started thinking about our life in Boise, Idaho - middle aged parents with two boys comfortably nestled in a large house in a suburb with a couple of cars in the driveway. We got up early and headed off to work, dropping the kids at daycare on the way. We worked all day, and came home late. And then we collapsed into bed, utterly exhausted. Isn’t that the American Dream? Isn’t that the way it should be?
But the real question was: was it the way I wanted it to be? Was the American Dream the be-all and end-all? Was it the Path to Enlightenment and Roadway to Happiness? Would I, could I, be content with a big house in the suburbs and some cars? Was that really what life was all about?
One thing led to another and it wasn’t long before we hit the road on our bicycles. Everything we needed – tent, sleeping bags, stove and cooking pot, clothes, and homeschooling supplies were lashed, strapped, or buckled to the bikes. After a year cycling the USA and Mexico, we knew one thing - we wanted to continue on.
As a family we made the decision to cycle from Alaska to Argentina, and set about preparing for a much longer tour than any of us had ever attempted - three years through extreme conditions. And then, somewhere along the line, the idea for a world record attempt came up. The boys were all grins, and I quickly dashed off a proposal to Guinness World Records.
The response wasn’t pretty. If our sons wanted to break the record, they would have to cycle the Dalton Highway from Prudhoe Bay to Fairbanks. Davy and Daryl would be the first children to attempt it – if they did. I wasn’t convinced it was worth it. We held another family meeting.
“Here’s the deal, guys,” I explained. “The record starts way up north in Prudhoe Bay. We’re planning to start in Fairbanks 500 miles south of there. If you really, really want to go for the record, we’ll go to Prudhoe Bay, but you need to understand how hard it is.”
“500 miles? We can do that, Mom,” Daryl interrupted.
“You need to know that it’s more than 300 miles of dirt road and when it rains the road turns to soup. It’ll be much, much tougher than anything else you’ve ever done. And you need to know we most likely won’t make it through – lots of cyclists way stronger than us have been beaten by the Dalton.”
“Let’s do it!” they both agreed. “We can make it!”
That night as I lay in bed trying to sleep, my mind went wild. All along I had figured the trip wouldn’t be all that arduous – we could simply hitch through the difficult parts. But now, if the boys were to make a serious attempt at the world record, that would not be an option. No matter how hard, no matter what kind of obstacles lay in our way, we would be committed to pedal over them.
I wasn’t worried about John – he’s as strong as a bear. I didn’t worry about the kids – they had an unending supply of energy that would power them through.
But me? I didn’t trust my own abilities. Could I really cycle all the way from the Arctic Ocean to Tierra del Fuego? Did I want to? I’ve always been the weak link in our family. I’m the one who tended to give up when things got tough. Rather than having legs of rock-solid muscle like John and the boys, my legs resembled jelly. The extra 40 pounds I was carrying around wouldn’t help matters either.
In my mind I played back our conversation of earlier that day. I saw the fierce determination in my sons’ faces; I heard the excitement in their voices. How could I take that dream away from them? I’m Mom – I’m supposed to be the one who encourages and supports her children as they reach for their dreams. And here I was considering taking the dream away before it even started. Could I do that to them?
By morning I had made my decision – I would do it. The four of us would pedal every kilometer between Prudhoe Bay and Ushuaia together. If we failed, we would fail trying.
And now – we are in La Paz, Bolivia. We’ve been on the road for over two years and have pedaled 13,000 miles. We’ve ground up impossibly steep mountain passes and slept in our tent while temperatures plummeted to single digits. We’ve outrun a bear and pedaled alongside a massive bison running along the road. We’ve met good, kind, generous people of every color imaginable and have learned more about humankind than I dared to dream of before we began this journey.
And so we continue south. The four of us will pedal together and slowly make our way through Bolivia, Argentina, and Chile. We will arrive at the southern tip of the world at some point and I will be proud to say, “We did it! We dared to live our dream!”
Our lives for the next three years had been reduced to three bikes, two trailers , and three bins of gear.
Ready for takeoff!
We carry everything we need to camp in the wild - and we do it frequently.
After 1000 miles or so we made it to Canada - our first international border.
Riding with bison in northern British Columbia.
After three months on the road, we crossed into the USA - our home country!
Unpredictable fall weather made cycling through Montana and Wyoming a challenge.
Mexico welcomed us with open arms.
It took us about 9 months, but we made it to Central America.
After 10 months on the road, we dealt with our first bout of sickness. We arrived at the border of Guatemala with two sick kids - and promptly checked into the first hotel we saw.
Entering Honduras was huge! We met up with some good friends and took an extended break with them.
In Nicaragua, we cycled past smoking volcanoes…
… and learned to surf in Costa Rica.
Reaching the Panama Canal was exciting - the dividing line between North and South!
As there is no road between Panama and Colombia, we had to take a boat.
Colombia meant the beginning of the Andes where a 7000-foot climb is nothing!
The equator was a MASSIVE milestone!
We were so excited to enter Peru…
…but it didn’t take long until we were smack dab in the middle of bleak, barren desert.
After 1200 miles of the coastal desert, we climbed up into the Andes yet again.
After just over two years on the road, we entered Bolivia!
It’s hard to believe we’ve already been here in La Paz for 2.5 weeks - how did that happen?
One of our goals for our time here was a dentist visit - all four of us needed a good cleaning. As it turns out, we found a wonderful German-trained dentist here who is capable of doing all kinds of stuff. She highly, highly, HIGHLY recommended John get his mouth totally redone.
So - we are still here. John is going in daily to have all his crowns and old fillings removed and then it will all be reconstructed. It’s a very extensive procedure, but is so much cheaper here than it would be in the USA - definitely worth the extra stay! Since we’re here, I’ve decided to take advantage of it to get my front crown replaced too - not looking forward to that!
But while we’re here, we’ve been enjoying hanging out with friends. The Verhage family spent a few days in La Paz before heading back over to Cochabamba and the four boys had a blast hanging out together. Now, Anna and Alister have caught up to us again - we met them up in Moab, Utah, then again in Quito and Cuzco. We are enjoying swapping stories!
We spent the first two weeks of our time in La Paz staying in the house of friends. Rainer and Adrian (and dog Flecky) were wonderful hosts!
We spent a lot of time planning out our route through Bolivia - it’ll be a tough crossing! We could choose between the high altiplano with very cold temps, but flat and the Amazon basin that will be warmer, but longer and hillier. I think we’ve decided on the altiplano.
We all enjoyed our time with the Verhage family!
