Alright, time to get another chain. After installation it was time to leave romania’s capital and get some more taste of rural Romania. I headed towards Brasov which lies close to the mountains and mountains usually means nice scenery. First I had to clear Bucharest’s urban sprawl which took a while and after some plains the mountains were again on the horizon. There were some nice mountain towns on the way. I reached Brasov but it looked like a big city, not what I was looking for so I continued my way east. My gps led me through some roma or gypsie enclave but the road becamr muddy again and i didn’t feel like another mud bath (nor my chain)
So I looked for a detour that take my further down my suggested track and my gps plotted away. The road it suggested was a nice paved one and at one point there were about 10 hairpin turns on a stretch of 2km or something. One after the other and great pavement as well. The road was quite good but lots of big trucks going each direction.
Finally I caught up with my originally planned track and started following it again. And what a great idea this was. Pretty soon the surroundings became breathtaking and not a soul around except for the occasional farmer or some kids having their cart pulled by a donkey.
Finally I got another glimpse of what I think can be called the real Romania.
My gps track was pretty much spot on, a few occasions where it was clear that no vehicle had passed there in a long time. I was glad it was dry because some sections would have been extremely muddy. I could see the prints of hardened cow feet that had sunk deep in the mud and dried up.
At one moment I ended up up at a farm where the track seemed to dissapear. But after some looking arround it appeared that my track had now become a walking trail. It was a small footpath that the farmer probably used to reach his field on the side of the mountain by foot (or at least his aids)
It was very steep and narrow (a shoelength wide). Again one of those moments where any other big bike would pose even more difficulties than I was already experiencing. Heck, I am sure even inexperienced mountainbike riders would have a few scary moments. But I could see the main road from the track, lurking a bit further in the distance so I took a chance and stuck with it and succesfully made it to the road. Coming down a teeny trail like a mountain goat at ridiculously slow speed…check. I was back on a normal dirt road, one that again led to some stunning scenery.
I stopped a few times to take picures but after the last stop my bike behaved strange.
It kept pulling me to one side even though I wanted to go straight. Checked the front tire…fine. Checked the rear…crap, it was dead flat. I pulled over and upon further inspection I had a big nail sticking in it. Time to bring out the tools. I have brought an extra inner tube with me. It is for the front wheel (which is bigger thna rear wheel on dirt bikes) but I will have to use it for my rear, which should work good enough giving me some time to fix the flat one somewhere and get me back into modern times. I placed the bike on its side, resting it on my bag of clothes and taking of the wheel was a breeze. There were two locals walking by and they came to have a look what I was doing. Later one of them came back and helped me to get the inner tube switched.
The biggest struggle was getting the wheel back on the bike. Aligning everything would have taken forever without the help of my horseriding friend (he came back on a horse to help…I’m on a horse!)
Some other horses came to check me out
After getting the wheel in place it was time to pump it up. Glad that I had bought a pump in Sarajevo I started working out my biceps and triceps. It took a while to get a reasonable amount of air in it but not as long as one would think. I would say about 4 minutes. Not bad.
The tire seemed to be pressured up enough. It was time to call it a night.
The horses saw my rear tire was fixed, so took a run for it
It was now around 8 and I was ready to pitch up my tent. I asked my tire changing aid if I could pitch my tent alongside the road. He saw no problem in it. I offered him some money for helping me but he refused indicating that his part in the effort was little. It wasn’t but still, no money was exchanged.
He left while I started packing my tools and trying to figure out where the heck I was and how long it would take me to the nearest urban area.
I had not yet started to set up my tent when the guy returned and told me to set up my tent in the backyard of an abandoned house. This would keep my bike from prying eyes and would give some privacy. Not that I was worried about thieves or anything. I think thisroad sees an avarage of 6 wheel based vehicles roll by, most of the non engine powered kind.
But I followed his advice and pitched my tent in the backyard of this house. Of course being unprepared as I am my water supply was very low. I carry 2 liters normally, but i think I had a little more than half a liter left. Not great if you just huffed and puffed away pumping up a motorcycle tire with a mountain bike pump. My hands were also so black that Saint nicholas helpers would be jealous to get that skincolor.
I left some water for drinking, had some for washing my hands and used the rest for cooking some instant noodles and doing the dishes.
Quite the eventful day, or rather evening. Glad I was prepared for this!
Goodbye working holiday visas, Europe here I come 