Day Total: 148 Km
Total Time: 4:10:00
Avg. HR: ???
Avg. Speed: 33.4 km/h
Song of the Day: Social Distortion – Ball and Chain
Sleep was broken for the second consecutive night as a slew of dog barks echoed through the Dongola zoo. I recall only seeing two dogs during our 1.75 days there, but at night it seemed as if the town came alive with packs of roaming mongrels intent on commanding authority through volume. It began at approximately 10pm and continued until the morning prayer call at 5am. The earplugs were only moderately effective at drowning out the noises and I awoke feeling less than fresh. An ominous beginning to a tough week (we have riding days of 148km, 143km, 148km, and 107km in convoy)? Time will certainly tell.
Disorganization seemed to be the theme for the morning. A tough lesson learned as the price for not completing the my almost ritualistic evening routine in preparation for the next day’s riding. Rushing back and forth to the trucks for food, gear stowage, bottle filling, finding a pump for the tires added to the sense of haste. On top of chaos, there was my less-than-happy stomach to attend to as it demanded multiple trips to the bathroom amdist the morning rush. No doubt a by-product of a day spent wondering the town eating many things and visiting with many locals it fortunately let me be during the day’s ride. On top of that, I screwed up when charging my bike computer and drained it down to ~20% power. That meant it died at about 80km, so data is “borrowed” from Paul today.
We rolled out of camp with the race group, despite our intentions to go ahead of them. For once, the pace was quite moderate, comfortable even as we clicked off the opening 60km. So pleasant was the pace, that as we passed other riders, many of them jumped in the group and managed to ride with us for 10 to 20km. Not surprisngly, the egos in the group could not let this last and with approximately 20km to lunch the pace went back to the usual lunatic speed. Paul, Jorg, and myself all rolled in a couple minutes behind them to lunch, much fresher for our sensibility.
Lunch was a very quick affair, our plan being to grab food and eat it on the bike. The 3 of us set out for the final 70km to camp with nobody in sight, the lead bunch already having moved ahead of us. There is little more to say – the landscape was quite desolate with a thin line of palm trees and mud huts representing civilzation one mile to our left (this was the banks of the Nile) and vast expanses of sand and scrub bush to the right. It varied not at all for the duration fo the ride into camp. I was particularly thirsty as the temperatures rose to nearly 90 degrees for the end of the ride. I consumed 2 bottles of fluid upon arrival in addition to our afternoon soup. After setting up my tent and having a second portion of soup I immediately began to feel a bit off. That was followed by extreme nautiousness sufficient enough to force me to simply lie down in the dirt and go to a happy place to avoid vomiting everywhere. These are the evil affects of dehydration. I knew the 2 bottles of fluids would turn things around so I had no choice but to lie very still. Claire, one of the staff nurses came by to check on me 30 minutes later and by then I was feeling significantly better. Another bottle of fluids and life was nearly normal again.
With dehydration beaten (at least for this day), we hiked the mile across the desert to the line of trees marking the banks of the Nile. After the cursory crocodile check, we jumped in, the water here being much deeper. Soap, shampoo, and a bit of a soak and life was indeed grand! We soaked our shirts for the hot walk back which provided an almost air conditioning like cooling effect for 30 minutes. On the walk back, we deviated through a small patch of irrigated fields and stumbled upon a mud hut with a small enclosure holding about 10 goats. They bleated and coughed in opposition to our presence but were quickly appeased with an offering of fresh green grass. The owner of the goats came upon us and was all smiles. The language gap was immense as he did not even seem to understand our basic Arabic greetings. I offered him one of the energy bars provided to us by the Tour and he gladly accepted. I wondered if he might not be cursing me now as he tries – possibly in vain – to eat it. These energy bars are a throwback to the original days of the PowerBar – simple in flavor, a consistent, almost taffy-like texture, and thick enough to require almost 3 miles to eat while on the bike. Sorry dude, but it’s all I had.
Back in camp, attractively dubbed the “Dead Camel Camp”, I consumed a total of 7 bottles of fluids in camp before getting into my tent to write this. I feel fine now, but my knowledge of physiology tells me that there may be some muscle soreness tomorrow. I’ve made plans to get up early and head out with an earlier, slower bunch to take it easy. Tomorrow is about “sawing logs” – get through the day the most comfortable way possible. I’ll be brining the 100oz CamelBack tomorrow to continue to restore proper hydration. Lesson learned.
Here’s the token dead camel photo:
One of about 5 dead camels in the immediate vicinity of camp
Here’s a shot of my father with his sometimes riding mate Meagan (no idea if that is how you spell her name):
Dad and Meagan
Another desert sunset:
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