Round and round we go

Day Total: 134 KmAvg.

HR: 132bpm

Avg. Speed: 27.9 km/h (excluding aid stops)

Song of the Day: Not so much one song, but anything by Blitentrapper

I’d like to start with a bit of administrativa in an effort to clarify a few things. Firstly, I haven’t actually listened to my mp3 player yet. Fortunatley I’ve had no shortage of riding partners thsu far. Secondly, starting tomorrow I’ll leave the clock running on the computer to reflect how the timing system works for the event. If I haven’t mentioned the timing system, each rider is given a small token and “clocks in” to start the day and “clocks out” when they complete the stage. Nothing fancy, but it works.

Last night’s camp was about 50 meters/yards off of the highway so there was a bit of road noise. The concentrated nature of the camp meant there was a good deal of various noises drifting my way to prevent deep slumber. That said, I woke up feeling pretty fresh and was ready to face the day.

We had agreed the night before that as a “racing group” we would depart shortly after 7am. Peter the Plumber (that’s the name of his business), an Australian now living in Cape Town has become the self-appointed chief of the peleton. His position has nothing to do with speed or ability, but everything to do with the fact that he is very outgoing, likes to talk (a lot), and generally believes he knows what is best for the group. He actually does a great job. That said, he was a bit quick on the start today and I got off a couple of minutes behind the group. UK Paul – the same guy I’ve ridden with each of the past 2 days – stayed back to wait for me figuring we could get a slight time advantage by later catching the group. It ended up being a difficult task to catch them, but after 20 minutes we reconnected with the group. From that point on it was a very pleasantly paced ride to the lunch truck at 70km. By pleasant, I really mean I was riding to the accompaniment of a hellish cacaphony eminating from an ambulance that began tailing us. In Egypt, we are typically tailed by police, tourism police, secret service, security, and other vehicles seemingly with nothing to do. While still lacking purpose to their day, they did find meaning in blasting Egyption folk songs over their loudspeaker system. I didn’t understand, it scared me at points, but once I learned the chorus I must admit I was compelled to sing along. Oooooh-ahh-ooh Ooooo-ahh-oooh! Yeah, sing it! At lunch I spent some time sorting out my water bottles and then choked down a quick sandwich. I have struggled to eat anything at lunch each day – though today I was slightly hungrier. Part of it seems to be an adjustment to simply eating as much as I know I need to, part of it is that we typically only spend ~15 minutes eating. Anyhow we quickly got away and were on the road again with only a short 66km to camp.

As expected, soon after lunch, fireworks in the peloton were on tap. I knew something was brewing when the local Egyption rider dropped back for a coca cola and the remainder of the Egyptian riders started chattering incessantly amongst themselves. Very soon after that the pace quickened up to 42km/h. I was hanging on but quickly decided the cost of doing so was more than I could afford to spend and diametrically opposed to a tactful plan for me to achieve my goals for this event. While I understand that one must exceed their limits to accomplish great things, there is a difference between bravery and stupidity. With no shot at victory, a group of ~8 of us let them go to sort things out amongst themselves. An older chap named Paul would win the stage again. Lifetime bike racer, semi-professional, he is very, very fast and looks unbeatable. Such are the fruits of experience and a nearly full-time focus on preparing for this event. My life is simply too full for such singular emphasis… and that’s just the way I like it.

That left a group of 8 of us to ride into the finish: Paul from the UK, Adam from the UK, Henri from Holland, Martin from Holland, Peter the Plumber (Australian), Luke from Australia, Jan from Germany. A fairly international crowd for sure. Some were quite tired by the end of the stage so Paul and I took long turns at the front until the fabulous orange finish flag appeared on the horizon.
I’m pretty sore. Though I finished strong, I can feel the past few days. Myself and some others took a long walk across the desert to swim in the Red Sea again. After that, I participated in the daily yoga sessions led by fellow rider Kendra. I really appreciate her taking the initiative to do this and her knowledge on the topic is extensive. Post-stretching it was the regular routine of rider meeting, dinner, teeth cleaning, and now writing. Tomorrow we camp in an actual town, Sofaga, on the shores of the Red Sea. My father asked if I wanted to get a hotel room. I’m not keen on any extra costs, but he quickly added “I’m buying”, so I consented. In a sense, it’s a great system: I ride fast to get one of the few available rooms, and he funds the project. In any event, the race organization reserves 4 rooms for the purposes of showering and flushable toilets. I’m only on my 3rd night camping but I already feel as if I’m betraying the grass roots nature of the event by taking the room. I’m sure I won’t regret it!

Shots from camp (including my bike):

OK, bonus round. As I’m trying to upload the photos, Peter the Plumber is reciting Australian folk songs. And my dad is cursing form his tent…