Wednesday, August 7
More wonderful rolling hills, roadside apple stands, rivers, & snow capped mountains in the distance were on tap for our viewing pleasure Monday morning. Stopping at a roadside cafe for a sit down lunch, and without a lick of english to be found anywhere, the team persevered and enjoyed plates of kabobs, and dumplings.
The afternoon brought an awesome thunder, and lightning show with fabulous virga, rain streaked clouds, streaming down out of the sky. Of course rainbows followed.
During the rain storm, Captain Don had to venture under the bus, in a muddy police parking lot, much to their dismay, (and Don’s too of course) to have more fun “tweaking” the brake caliper bracket that continues to give us intermittent issues. He again pleaded with Pietro, (our italian Mario Andretti , who’s been tough to tame) to try and drive a “bit” more carefully through the crap roads.
A short while later not only did we find ourselves at a “non-landfill” off the beaten path road to pitch our tents, we were enjoying cocktail hour before dark (Win/Win!!) Watching the passing storms and sunset from our camp chairs with adult beverages in hand seemed so civilized. Those with waterproof tents pitched before dark, the rest chose “bus” camping for the night.
I shot awake at 1am to brilliant white streaks of lightning flashing across my tent accompanied shortly thereafter by huge cracks of thunder. Never too concerned about camping in the rain, I now pondered what my chances of escaping my tent if it were hit by lightning…slim to none? I was seriously rethinking my use of Sarah’s large metal glow in the dark tent stakes. Counting time between lightning and thunder, danger did not appear imminent and my need for sleep overcame any concerns and I drifted back to dreamland to the sounds of rain pattering on my tent.
To Don’s great consternation, Tuesday brought us more road “construction” which for us meant dodging rain soaked, potholed dirt roads. We could see the “new” road to our right, with piles of sand, gravel, and dirt alternately plopped along the seemingly abandoned road bed.
On the Road:
The last major town in Kaz before the Russian Border is Semey (More infamously known as Semipalatinsk). My guidebook describes that over 460 Nuclear Tests were carried out in this area by the Russians during The Cold War years of 1949 – 1989, only ceasing when over a million signatures had been collected in overwhelming protest by the citizens, who had never been given any protection or warning to the dangers, many of whom are now suffering from the long term health effects.
We drove past & stopped at a square that had an outdoor display of WWII tanks, vehicles, a fighter jet, and a war memorial for the 1941-1945 time period. There was a family of kids in the park who were playing on and around the equipment as a guard dressed in military uniform looked on in amusement. The chickens, never ones to pass up an opportunity to connect with their surroundings, had Sarita jumping at the chance to acquire more footage for The Adventurists Speech. Caroline standing on a tank (Girl Power!), and Don and Tommy lying down in front of the treads of another brought more smiles from the guard.
Our route is fast paced with many long days on the road strung together, usually stopping only for the essentials: Gas, Food, & occasionally, “Lodging”. There is little time to “sightsee”, if at all, other than what we view through the windows of the bus as we pass by.
Road trips, and frankly life, trend either towards being focussed on reaching one’s chosen “destination” as quickly as possible, or taking the time to experience the journey to wherever it may eventually lead us. The latter is what I love most about sailing and soaring. My course is dictated by the wind and where I may go is anywhere but where I may have intended, which is inherently challenging, but can be a wonderful experience, even when you least expect it.
In each town we have passed through, there are places I wish I had just a little more time to spend. I can not imagine when I will ever pass some of these ways again, and each day I seem to long for a bit more substance. Even a small town such as Semey, essentially what one might define as being lost in the midst of nowhere, literally and figuratively, is a community of people, with a history, with something to be expressed and shared with the world.
For me, here, first up would have been the Dostoevsky Museum, which the guidebook says pays a wonderful tribute to the 5 years Fyodor lived here in the late 1850’s in exile / enforced military service with his wife and child and where he began writing “The Brothers Karamazov”. Another would have been the “Stronger than Death” memorial built in 2002 in honor of the victims of the nuclear testing which the guidebook describes as..” somber and impressive” and has “a marble centerpiece of a mother covering her child above which a polygon mushroom cloud billows etched into a 30 meter high black tombstone”
Unfortunately, we headed out of town nearly as quickly as we came, steaming straight for the Russian Border while night fell, and mile after mile rushed by.
Off The Rhumb Line 