Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
Three days later the road became smooth bitumen. There remained just 130
kilometres to Novosibirsk, and it seemed that meeting with Chris on time wasn't
going to be an issue.
As I pedalled along, a creaking noise from the bike nagged like a child demand-
ing attention. Over the last few hours it had become louder, as if, somewhere, a
screw was loosening; yet every time I checked, there was nothing out of place.
'All right, all right!' I muttered, coming to a halt. Rolling the bike over, I
checked the bolts and screws; everything seemed to be fine. But as I put the bike
upright I noticed a strange quality to the frame. It seemed to be bending. Moving
the pannier from under the seat, I inspected further and, as I did so, my grimace
turned to a look of terror. The thick tubing of the main frame had completely frac-
tured, with just a thread of metal joining the two halves. In fact, the bike seat was
the only thing attaching the front half of the bike to the back. The bike had snapped
in half.
The sight crippled me. More than anything, I wanted to believe that if I kept rid-
ing I could still make it to Novosibirsk. As the full extent of the damage dawned
on me, I was left wondering why the bike hadn't already given way beneath me.
After some time I was able to break free from my mood and roll down the hill to
where bridge repairs were underway. I found the workmen laying a grid of wire on
the embankment. They were covered in dust and sweat, and most wore a red work-
er's vest over a tanned bare chest. I looked closely at their tools and at the slow,
shaky actions of their work. How many years had they been doing these repairs?
'Men, hey, men!' I yelled.
'What?' someone shouted.
'You wouldn't happen to know where the next village is? Or the next garage?' I
asked.
They paused before pointing in the direction of Novosibirsk. 'Where are you
from?' came another cry.
'Australia!' I yelled.
'Well, bugger me!' Everyone put down their tools and stared at me with hands
on hips.
There was a quick discussion before they made their way up to me. When I
showed them the bike they were adamant I stay the night. 'C'mon, we will get it
fixed!'
The bike was hurled into the tray of a van and I squeezed into the cabin with
four men. It took some time to rouse the drunken driver from a deep sleep, but
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