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In Which I Break A Cardinal Rule
October 17, 2006 by Mike
Pargas (aka Parainen)
Route: Naantali - Turku - Pargas - Nagu - Korpo - Nagu - Pargas
All of a sudden, I'm confronted with one of the most beautiful roads of the journey.
This takes me by surprise, after a short run of thngs going wrong.
In Naantali yesterday, the Moomins were asleep. Even the Moomin shop was closed.
I've been into Turku, historic capital of 'Finland Proper' (that's really what they call it) and enjoyed seeing the city from the saddle... just what you'd want the historic capital of Finland to look like.. only to be frustrated when I de-saddled and visited the Forum Marinum, the latest coastal museum to have next to nothing in English.. but also, so as not to sound too grumpy, precious little in Swedish or Finnish on the local fishing industry.
None of the staff seemed willing to have me ask questions for an hour before going for a sauna together (as in Vaasa -- maybe they were tipped off?) so I don't know and perhaps never will know.. and by extension, if you've been relying on me, you may never know either.. and this is troubling me.. whether the Finnish fishing fleet never really got started, what with the brackish nature of the water in the Baltic? Or whether it has been killed off by.. I dunno.. the EU? Perhaps a side-product of all these paper mills seeps into the sea and kills all the fish? Perhaps fishermen make great mobile phone salesmen and Nokia now employ them all? I. Just. Don't. Know.
And then I popped next door to visit the impressive and historic Turku Castle only to find out that it shuts at 2.30pm in the afternoon, and it was now 2.32pm in the afternoon. This is enough to earn a city a bad name.. even though it's a beautiful and cosmopolitan place and I secretly quite liked the look of it.
But on and on.. out into the Turku archipelago and one of the most beautiful roads of the journey. This is Skärgårdsvägen -- it's official: The Archipelago Road.
Half-an-hour from the city centre I'm running through gently-steeped banking turns that curl through virgin forest and past rickety farmhouses in the mild autumnal sunshine of late afternoon. There's hardly any traffic. A tractor or two. A Dutch student in a rented car passes the time of day waiting for a ferry. He speaks with a slight Scottish accent. We agree that Finnish is beyond us.
On again. Bridges thread island to island. Most boats have been hauled out of the water ahead of the big freeze but there are still some hardy souls out fishing. (They must have retired from Nokia.) I'm riding with sunglasses on for the first time in a couple of weeks -- I just haven't needed them.
On and on to Nagu and Korpo and the end of the road at Ruma, where the B&B that's been advertised all the way down the islands is closed and the restaurant deserted. OK. I turn round and head back (because who can resist one of the most beautiful roads of the journey?) stopping occasionally to wonder at the road, or to discover that another cabin/ B&B/ hostel/ hotel is closed.
No wonder there's no traffic.
I ride and ride until I get all the way back to the first town of the archipelago, Pargas, in the dark. Tired now, I take a wrong turning for the cabins'n'camping site and find myself spiralling down a road that gets narrower as it gets darker as it gets more remote. Even as I marvel at the sheer blackness beyond my headlights, this other Finland that I can only reach by bike, I'm aware that I'm heading nowhere. Philosophically, that's not always so bad. But in terms of food, drink, warmth and a place to sleep tonight, not so good.
OK, this is silly. Even on a tiny island in the Turku archipelago I seem to have been riding for 20 minutes without getting anywhere. I slow to turn round. I'm not very good at turning, remember?, at the best of times, but perhaps the dark, the cold, the tiredness, all had addled my biking brain.
Whatever, on this thin, pockmarked country lane I started to walk, or 'paddle' the bike round. My turning circle being greater than the width of the road, I need a three-point turn to get round.
Or rather, I needed a five-point turn but I tried to do it in three. Forwards.. back.. forwards.. swinging round round rou... ooops. The steep camber of the road took me by surprise and we, man and machine, rolled inexorably off the edge of the tarmac into the scrubby earth by the side of the road.
This is a bad time to realise that the scrubby earth is actually a reed-bed that falls away steeply from the road into a ditch. The bike is heavy, and stuck -- as long as I hold on to it. There's no way I can pull it backwards onto the road again. I inch forwards, wondering if I can carry it round and back onto the road but the front wheel dips ever-so-slightly as the reeds underneath sag.
I'm in deep shit. (Sorry Ma and Pa, but that's the best word for it...)
It's dark. The road is unutterably empty. I'm straddling the bike on the edge of a precipice. (OK, a three foot ditch, but it could be a very painful fall at worst and a huge job to pul it out at best.)
I need to do something. I need to make the bike as light as possible so I can perhaps perHAPS pull it back onto the road.
Gingerly, I get off the bike, holding the bars and the front brake all the while with my right hand and with my left, wriggle the key out of the ignition; switch hands on the brake; unlock the panniers on the back of the back with my right hand and then struggle to get one of the panniers off the frame and onto the ground. one down, two to go, but this was the nearest one to me and it already feels like I'm playing Twister with the bike -- and losing. The front wheels judders and drops another millimetre. It's cold but I'm sweating. And cursing myself and this STUPID bloody trip.
Heavy bike. Tiring Mike. Ditch. Cold. Dark. Minutes tick by.. and then, the headlights of a car appear in the far distance, right the way across the valley. Driving slowly, following the contours and curves of the road, nearer and nearer.. my arms are aching.. a bead of sweat dangles from my nose.. there are a couple of dark farmhouses between the car and me. If they turn off the road and I see them switching off the car, opening the door, lighting a fire, making themselves comfortable. and all the while I'm standing here grimly holding on to the bike, I swear I'll cry.. but the car keeps coming and coming and suddenly it's here and I flag it down and the driver stops and he's all smiles and jumps out to push me and the bike back onto the road.
Just like that.
I confess: i'm so shaken that I can hardly roll the bike to a flat piece of road and in trying to set it on its sidestand I nearly drop the bike there and then. My saviour looks on with a smile of benign confusion. Clearly I've ridden this bike from England.. and yet I've tried to push it off his little road and now I can't even park the thing.
But worse, much worse.. I've broken one of the cardinal rules of a trip like this (with a blo-- i mean diary like this):
I didn't fish my camera out and ask him to take a picture of me and the bike first, before he rescued us.
I'll try to remember -- next time.
--
I've had a brief correspondence on the ever-reliable HorizonsUnlimited with a biker from Turku.
Ari has recommended a couple of places where I might buy some new riding gear: Finland is home of the best (cheapish) top-quality jackets and trousers. If I do buy, it's partly to improve the waterproofing, partly to improve the crash resistance and anti-abrasion qualities of my protective gear and partly... aesthetics.
My current trousers are ridiculously too long. OK, my legs are too short. Or perhaps a little of both. So long, anyway, that the knee protection sits snugly on my shins when I ride (another more legitimate reason to upgrade). I also tell myself (and it's true) that my current outfit is not only large and bulky, which makes it hard to pack away when I'm wearing civvies, but is so heavy that it might wear me down.
I'm making excuses for a shopping expedition:
a) when did I ever need an excuse to shop? What's happening to me??
b) but on the other hand, I'm supposed to be living low-key and cheaply
c) but then again, Rukkagear will be safer and better
d) but Mike, you've always promised yrself this trip wouldn't rely on the best and most expensive modern trinkets.. this is about one man and his bike
e) but the Rukka trousers are so snug and won't ride up yr backside when you're on the saddle for hours at a time and...
... and... and... I argue with myself, as there's nobody else around. I never win these arguments, just go into a sulk with myself for a while and make faces at myself when I think I'm not looking.
Comments
By Mike With | October 25, 2006 9:41 AM
Hello B (and R, H, N, M and S)
Will travel in the light from now on, I promise. Though I arrived in St Petersburg in the dark and rain and coming face to face with the Winter Palace in those conditions after a long ride was one of the most amazing moments of my life. It was, literally, breath-taking.
But can't update the site proper from here for a day or so: this comment is really a holding-message to say I'm in Roosia, in the rain, and all is well.
--Mike
By Martin and Sarah | October 28, 2006 6:27 PM
Hello Mike,
I realise I'm not really sure how far you're going - Russia now, eh? When will you stop? Hope you stay safe ...
The Peter Grant revolution has finished - NCFC have lost 5-0 away to Stoke today.
Martin.
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By B | October 22, 2006 2:23 PM
most important that you are OK and from now on Travel when it is light!
Go shopping and treatyourself, B
R+H leaving Hong Kong very soon, they are not to keen on the food there