Round and round we go

Day Total: 95 Km

Avg. HR: 137bpm

Avg. Speed: 34.7 km/h (excluding aid stops)

Song of the Day: Oasis – Lyla

Last night we learned that the desert has many faces. The evening was again relatively mild and pleasant as we dined on mashed potatoes and chili (Paul and myself pulled ~70 minutes of potato peeling duty). By 9pm the pleasantries were cast aside and an angry wind rolled out of the north. It blew hard, then really hard, then stupidly hard, applying unrelenting force against unsuspecting (i.e. unprepared) campers. A tent peg came loose due to the force and I ran outside to to make a hasty repair… in my unders. Eventually sand was blowing into the tent with enough ferocity that I had no choice but to hastily pack up my bag to keep sand from permeating anything and everything. The walls of my tent pressed in against me, and finally, I simply mummied up in my sleeping bag, turned my back into the wind and forced myself to sleep. Doubt raged through my mind as to whether or not my tent would hold – enough so that I sent a text message to my good friend John in Glasgow to relay the situation in hopes of getting some advice. No such luck (thanks John!). I did survive. The upshot is that I was able to take out my eating fork and rake sand while sititng inside my tent. Nothing like a little zen sand raking to get the morning started. On the whole, I think 2 tents were damaged and at least 5 people spent the night in the vans.

The wind continued all through the morning which provided ample motivation to expedite the packing process. The Egyptian riders were cold and started ahead of everyone which was fine by me – they are only riding 6 days and tend to whip the pace up to levels of unsustainability. In any case, we rolled out with favorable winds and before long we were whipping along at over 40km/h. I looked at Paul, he looked at me and we just shook our heads. “We’ll just have to get used to it,” he said. We all hung on and made the 55km to lunch in a quick 1h 35m. The pace definitely got a little hectic just before lunch and relented only slightly afterwards. Because we got to lunch so early, I could barely eat anything which left me hungry later down the road. I was chewing on a granola bar when the road rose upwards along with the tempo. Choking on my food I slipped to the back, but a little too much so and the group was away. I rode hard for the next 12 minutes to catch up but could never close to more than ~40 meters. That said, it was nice to ride solo for a bit, yelling at the top of my lungs for no other reason than to see if anyone could hear me. I passed a random guy standing in the middle of the 4-lane motorway directing traffic. He nodded, nothing more. The lead group finished with a fury, but in the end my riding mate of the past few days managed to accelerate past 3 Egyptian riders on the line to grab the stage win. I was very pleased to hear that!

We made camp on the beach in the “resort” town of Safaga. Yes there are hotels and dive shops here, so in that sense it is somewhat of a resort town. It looks as if its best days are behind it, the action seemingly being relocated up the coast and anchored by a myriad of meaga-hotels. That said, the race organization reserved a few rooms for riders to use for the purposes of showering and flushable toilets. My dad sprang for a hotel room, so I’m sleeping in a proper bed tonight. He has just discovered that the hotel has free internet which means he will be online for hours and keep me awake. Possibly not worth it? We ate lunch at around 2pm, I napped, went back to the restaurant where Paul and I ate an entire pizza each at 5pm, then ate the normal camp dinner at around 6pm. My apetite has fully arrived and I’m not sure what to do about it. This will be interesting in the coming days.

Tomorrow is back to “sawing logs” as it were – a standard 140km along the highway road to another nameless camp in the desert. This one will be located at a police checkpoint which means there will be a lot of local people standing around with guns, smiling and smoking cigarettes. At least the bikes will be safe…

Today’s picture is a tribute to the ordinary man. Fellow rider Matthew from Canada is here riding the first half of the tour with his father (who rode the 2nd half of the tour last year). By his own admission, he doesn’t know how much he actually likes cycling. I love this guy’s candor, his attitude, and sense of humor – he had me nearly crying when we toured the Giza pyramids as he haggled with the camel riders. Here’s to you Matt for proving that the TDA is not all about being a hardcore bike racer!

[Bryon’s Note]: Here is a link to Scott’s check-in from his SPOT GPS Messenger for today:

http://maps.google.com/maps?f=q&hl=en&geocode=&q=26.76591,33.94275&ll=26.76591,33.94275&ie=UTF8&z=12&om=1