Day 117 - 100 km to the good, and a photo essay on swiftlet houses - Unfinished Business

August 25, 2023

Day 117 - 100 km to the good, and a photo essay on swiftlet houses

After a very good breakfast and farewells I was on my way, but I hadn't gone far when I stopped to avoid a turkey. Later in the day I would stop to avoid geese. I don't think that I've encountered turkeys while cycling since the Uzbekistan turkey ladies, who gave my biscuits to their flock.

I was soon on the main road and heading north. The first 40 km were much like yesterday's - not too busy but on an unpredictable road. I soon spotted an old poultry house so I can keep the theme going.

One of my first scientific papers was on the influence of temperature on digestion. As you can see, raising the birds off the ground helps cool them. Birds don't sweat so the best way to help them is to provide cool water so they can dip their heads. How do you do this in a hot climate?

Enough thermal physiology and on to bicycle mechanics. As I hit a bump on a bridge, I heard that familiar "ping" of a breaking spoke. Quite unusually, and like the last one, it broke a third of the way from the hub. I decided to let it go and find somewhere to fix it later. That turned out to be the end of the day, by which time I had lost another. Not surprising! A spoke in time saves one!

It wasn't my only bicycle problem. Here's one for the bicycle mechanics among you. Give me your opinions and I'll reveal mine in tomorrow's post. Put simply, I have trouble changing to higher gears upon reaching the crest of a hill. I just can't twist the shifter that connects the cables to the Rohloff hub. Let's not get pedantic; I don't think it's my technique. I have changed gears a couple of times before.

Along this stretch, my eyes caught several other things.

From a distance I was relieved because it looked like a cat.

I like all aspects of this image, especially the insignia. For the mechanics, there is a drive shaft and a differential.

I saw nothing in the vicinity to suggest that a flying car might hit me. But, I was very careful!

Cassava again. It seems to be all done by hand, other than loading and grinding the tubers. Even raking it is hard work.

After 40 km, the road changed completely; it became quiet for about 50 km and the surface improved. The reason was obvious, if you looked: beyond the facade of roadside vegetation, lay vast plantations of rubber and coffee. Occasionally, a road led to a processing plant. Villages were few. Every so often, I saw a motorcycle loaded with palm fruits but usually it was trucks.

There was a hint of what was to come.

A giant palm fruit with a seat inside. Teams fear playing the oils at home.

I sat inside the fruit and sent a message to Cora. Can you find me a town 100-120 km south of Palembang. I am 160 km south (maps.me), 140 south (komoot) or 290 km south ( a recent roadsign).

I got going again and a roadsign indicated that Tugumulyo is 32 km. Perfect! After 21 km I reached the town centre. I wish it had been 32 km to give me an easier day tomorrow.

I was happy to be away from the noise and the garbage for a time.

That's Pandanus growing on the riverbank.

One big organisation that's part of another big organisation.

Sometimes I wonder what I will photograph but something always appears.

I may have stayed at this losmen if it had been further down the road.

Trucks and I stopped for these geese while a local gave them a sound talking to.

Cyclist and bicycle of the day. He wanted his bicycle photographed but not himself. He was walking the road, collecting plastic bottles.

Difficult to score! Would this be different if women played the game?

I found a hotel easily, dumped cold water over myself, had a coffee and caught up on correspondence. I then did a phone interview about air pollution with a journalist friend of Daisy's before crossing the road to a warung. I ate the normal two dinners with a few cups of sweet tea while doing the blog. I then returned here to tackle my bike. I'll call that a full day. Now it is time for swiftlets.

Whenever I reached a village, I was surprised by the number of swiftlet houses. Sometimes I could see five without moving. It got me thinking about the tradeoff between the number of nests you steal and the birds' lifetime reproductive output. Here is a selection of the buildings.

Today's ride: 101 km (63 miles)
Total: 8,330 km (5,173 miles)

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Graham SmithIan I don’t know much about Rohloffs. I could only afford the derailleur equipped Thorn Sherpa.

However I’ll take a guess at a diagnosis of the sticky gear shift problem. Is there a prize for correct answers? A packet of ginger tea? A small jar of sambal?

My guess is that the cable connecting the shifter to the hub gears is sticking to the outer casing. The long duration in tropical conditions might have caused some corrosion, moisture or other grunge to accumulate within the casing.
This grippinrss could be impeding the movement of the gear cable if it relies on spring tension to assist to the shift to higher gears.

Normally I deal in facts, not friction.
But I’ll throw this sticky hypothesis into the mix.
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1 year ago

Ian WallisTo Graham SmithGraham, great to see you put your cards on the table. I'd happily give a prize but you won't be getting it. Sorry!
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1 year ago

Ian DouglasPerhaps the Rholoff has become sentient and the higher caste gears feel that working is beneath them?
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1 year ago

Ian WallisTo Ian DouglasOnce again, Ian, very good.
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1 year ago