Revisiting Big Dunn

According to my bible, if you can drive don't ride and if you can ride don't walk. So when Charles aka Ayatollah called at 5am to say he was sending a support vehicle for me on Sunday 9th September, to follow me up to Stony Hill and I saw bicycles packed up inside when it arrived, I packed mine in too.

But Charles was not as weak willed for after we picked up Chuck and we all were driving up to Stony Hill we saw him and Theresa struggling up Long Lane. But Theresa being smart, jumped into Charles 1st vehicle as it arrived (ours was already packed up with sensible people!) but stubborn Charles refused to be bribed and struggled all the way up the steep hill in the early morning all by himself.

All power to him.

Of course, all this excitement was in preparation for a return ride with the Fun and Thrills group to the wonderful, refreshing waterfall known as Big Dunn aka Fish Dunn, just outside of Buff Bay, Portland.

The ride to Castleton Gardens was easy as it was downhill all the way and there, we had delicious, boiled corn and janga soup. It was there that the main group of riders which had left the headquarters later, joined us.

Super athlete Andrew and daughter Paris

The greatest athlete on this trip was 8-year-old Paris Smellie, Andrew's daughter. Andrew had driven
to Agualta Vale then unloaded her bicycle which she rode from there past Annotto Bay while her super athlete dad jogged protectively behind her. 

They kept that up to the border of St. Mary and Portland (Dover district in St. Mary and Windsor district in Portland) where it started to rain. I personally welcomed the rain for what always defeats me on those long rides is the blaring sun.

As soon as the rain stopped, Paris was back on her bicycle and Andrew back to his jogging all the way to Buff Bay.

Along the way I had seen members of the Portland Cycling Club heading west, but just outside of Buff Bay some passed me on a hill while one or two others of the team followed, doing Orrel's regular job, that of helping weak female riders by riding behind them and pushing them up the hill with one hand.

Members of Porland Cycling Club- a Patricia Marie Summons photo

In Buff Bay they told me they are the top riding club in Jamaica, having recently won the championship and that one of their members, Oneal Samuel's rides with BMW in Atlanta, Georgia while two of their members are now in training for the Caribbean championship meet next month.

When one showed me his wheels which cost US$5000 each, I finally realized what a little leaguer I was! I can see why they would be a top riding club however as their regular training routine involves riding east from Portland to Kingston and back home via Junction taking an average of seven hours to do that rotation.

Wow.

They rode with us and had breakfast with us at a cricket field just beyond Crystal Springs. About two minutes before that, I had kept to my resolve to stop riding as soon as we started the steep ascent to the intersection. However, after breakfast, I realized that what I remembered to be a steep climb was a mere slope as the really steep section starts after the intersection going towards Bybrook.

It was a marvelous day. Someone had tied three knotted ropes on trees at the top of the falls and allowed them to fall over the gigantic rocks for adventurers to climb up on and jump into the deep, clear, refreshing water below.

Several of our macho men tried but gave up in frustration until Johan accomplished what had seemed to be the impossible. Seeing that it was doable, Andrew and Howie persevered until they succeeded too.

Fun and Thrills riders frolic at Big Dunn aka Fish Dunn, Portland

While on our first visit there, Chuck had been the only one to "chuck" off the gigantic rocks into the deep water below, this time numerous fellows did and was joined by Sasheena who represented the women.

It was a great day as the weather was excellent for riding, the water refreshing and not too cold, the breakfast delicious and the camaraderie wonderful. The only regret is that we had mistimed our return visit as the apples which were ripe and in abundance on the first trip, were absent this time.


What the heck, you can't always have it all!

Robins Bay Again

This is the second time the Fun and Thrills group has organised a ride to Robins Bay in St. Mary and  although this time we ended up at a different location for breakfast, it was just a memorable. What was great too is that this time no one ended up in the hospital (as unfortunately Pat and Desiree had during my absence ) and there wasn't even a spill as we enjoyed our leisurely ride along the  the extremely scenic Junction road accompanied most of the way by the snaking Wag Water River as it slowly navigated around humongous rocks.

I left my home at about 5.45 am and rode alone towards Stony hill until I was joined by Gary, a professional rider who opted to keep my company up to the square where half of the group was already waiting.

The next stop was the scenic Castelton Gardens outside of which the greatest soup is available.... janga  soup. While pleasing our palates there, we were joined by most of the others who had left headquarters at Hope Pastures later than the A Team.

While we were there, it started to rain but not very heavily, so we set off for a pleasant ride with just enough rain to cool us down.  On most of the way to Agualta Vale, I was riding with Charles Simpson, who though new to riding is fulla stamina. (dancehall lingo).  Incidentally, the humorous story leaked out how  he had been conquered by some of the slopes going up to Stony hill and had to tie a rope on to his SUV to pull him over the hill. I am only sorry that I did not arrive in time with my camera to catch that sight. This is not a first among Fun and Thrillers however for Michael Chuck invented that move some years ago on a ride to Newcastle in the hills of  St. Andrew and I have the picture to prove it!

When we got to Agualta Vale we saw some of the party waiting, but Charles who proudly tells us that he is St. Mary born, convinced me that our final destination was less than 2 1/2 miles away and gullible me swallowed it hook line and sinker. Naturally, in typical Jamaican style, the 2 1/2 miles ended up being about 5 miles. I could have kicked myself for not having stopped to rest with the others.

Anyway I survived and this time our final destination was just at the turn off to Robins Bay proper. As we arrived first and I saw a number of domino tables, I wasted no time in recruiting three local players and got down to business. Before I could either drop or receive a 6 love however, the rest of the posse arrived and breakfast was announced. The food was absoluteluy fabulous and the ambiance just great, right beside the sea.

After breakfast it was straight to the beach for some of us while the MTR's went riding into the bushes in rugged country. We walked about 1/4 mile to a beach but it was full of rocks so after enquires we set off to another which we were told was not too far.

In  true country style, not too far turned out to be very far but it was a nice beach near an area with huge rocks protruding but where the water was fresh and clean and it was situated in a cove which protected us from the fierce currents that Robins Bay is notorious for.                                                                                                          It was another great day of fun and camaraderie with  the group of wonderful adventure seekers from Fun and Thrills riding club.

For more photographs see; http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?id=763366822&frecId=false&qn=1310492716&tid=190063094373469&success=11&failure=0&set=oa.209587812420997

THE SIMPLE LIFE

The Rio Grande River is ever present

One of the best meals I have ever had in my life was Janga run dung and pumpkin turned cornmeal.

In fact, I am ashamed to say that I have heard that our Maroon caterers at Millbank in Portland, are still talking about how I invaded their outside kitchen to get some more of that delicious fare. But I just could not help myself.

This happened some time ago but I just have never been able to stop talking about the food. I did not receive that delicious meal on a platter however. In fact, I worked very hard for it. Hard but pleasant work. 

For it took us about three hours of riding uphill on some of the most impossible roads, to get there.

Let me make it clear up front however that our adventure group “Fun and Thrills” is not like the professional riders you see nattily dressed in their riding gear on the road from time to time. We ride mountain bikes and proceed quite slowly, stopping a lot to take photographs, drink in the beauty around us, get a quick swim or just snack away. 

That’s the fun in our name.

On this occasion, we were riding into the Rio Grande Valley, probably the closet thing to the mythical Garden of Eden. We had started out in Port Antonio and headed south to Fellowship, uphill all the way on a narrow, paved road full of corners which took us through pleasant little districts outside the town…..nice, brightly coloured, humble country homes with happy kids playing outside and lots of fruit trees in almost every yard.

At Fellowship we headed east and from there on, any idea we may have had about “good roads” evaporated abruptly. We were now in deep, rural, Maroon country, but by God, those mountains displaying every shade of green and covered with mist, the sound of the birds, the wild flowers and trees as well as the sound of the Rio Grande gushing over the stones and creating mini water fall’s all the way, brought a new level of the peace and serenity that most outsiders never get the opportunity to enjoy.

You know, it is quite common for us Jamaicans to be introduced to some spectacular parts of our countryside by foreigners and this excursion of ours was no different. For this route into the Blue and John Crow Mountain range was being introduced to us by Kimberly John, a Trinidadian environmentalist who has been doing a fantastic job among the maroons in Portland.

As we continued our challenging, upward journey through Windsor, Alligator Church and Ginger House, the number of small farmsteads became less visible but no doubt farmers were all around as was evidenced by the small lush banana plantations as well as fields of dasheen and coffee further up the mountain side. 

Fruit trees seem to grow wild throughout the entire valley too.

As we ascended, the sun became less visible, (thankfully, as riding in the blazing sun can be very challenging) and overcast conditions prevailed. All was well until just before we got to Comfort Castle where the road had been washed away and only a tiny path was left to cross over to the other side. So we had to dismount and gingerly push our way across, looking carefully and fearfully down into the deep ravine below.

Luckily for the residents of Comport Castle and Millbank , a couple of cars had been over on their side when the road washed away. Now all their goods and produce are transported to the edge of the breakaway, then taken by manpower over the narrow path then picked up by the vehicles on the other side. This has horribly isolated them and made things very expensive for the residents of Comfort Castle and Millbank who play a major role in feeding this nation. Hopefully by now, that situation has been corrected.

Comfort Castle is a pleasant village on the edge of the Blue and John Crow Mountain range and Millbank which is reputed to have the second highest rainfall in the world, didn’t disappoint as we got a thorough soaking at least four times before we actually got to our destination. Getting soaked was by no means unpleasant however for as the rains stopped, the sun reappeared drying us off quite quickly.
Millbank is the last village in the Portland section of the Blue and John Crow Mountains before you cross over into the St. Thomas section of that range. It is your normal, rural district with the usual shops, churches and bars.

Here, the temperature is cool and crisp and naturally is it is very damp and lush. While we were there, farmers were busy packing crocus bags of dasheen which they would take to the breakaway, to be taken up on the other side to feed the rest of Jamaica.

Most of the inhabitants in the Rio Grande Valley are loosely referred to as Moore Town Maroons.

Each Maroon village has a representative on the maroon council, the body responsible for the enforcement of the laws (the state deals with murder) and maintaining order and guess what, these villages boast extremely low crime rates. I wonder what they are doing right while the rest of Jamaica gets it terribly wrong?

I guess it all comes back to leading the simple life in a lush, beautiful, peaceful, environment.

Joan Williams is the writer/publisher of Tour Jamaica and the Original Dancehall Dictionary and can be contacted at; greatestj@hotmail.com