Round and round we go

Stage 45
Day Total: 105km
Total Time:
Avg. Speed: km/h
Avg. Heart Rate: bpm
Total Climbing:

Song of the Day: Tricky – Council Estate

A chill at dawn. I didn’t expect that only 2km from the equator. That’s altitude for you I guess. The upshot was that I slept with my sleeping bag draped over me and did not sweat – a real treat for me. And what a beautiful sleep it was…

We convoyed to the equator with the gadget freaks amongst us monitoring our approach with the assistance of GPS-enabled bike computers from Garmin. Nice devices and I highly recommend them. As expected, a large sign marked the invisible line, and quite surprisingly, it was very accurately placed. The convoy stopped for photos, riders choosing to pose with bicycle underneath the sign. Other shananigans were also taking place: group hugs, silly photos, removal (not copmplete) of clothing, assorted lude gestures. The only thing missing from this impromptu equator party was cold beer. Shame really, but we did have a stage to ride.

The usual wait-until-the-last-possible-minute-to-clock-in games were taking place as we prepared to get going. With most of the riders up the road I took a calculated risk with fellow rider Jorg and figured we would just get moving and find other people to ride alongside. And it worked. We set off at a moderate pace, others joined, and soon we had 5 strong riders cooperating to move along at a 40km/h pace. I love it when a plan comes together…

We eventually caught up with a group consisting of Adam and the three Kenyan riders who will be joining us for a few days. It turns out these young Kenyans are ludicrously fit and quite gifted cyclists. They set a blistering pace and we ripped through the countryside ahead of everyone and hit the lunch truck at 60km in near record time. It was a real treat: they were cooperative, courteous riders eager to work together to achieve the best possible speed. Well done.

A brief lunch stop caused some confusion. The chasing group rolled in just as we were leaving, the Kenyans were not quite ready to depart, Jorg had had enough of the blistering pace. I rolled out of lunch with the top 5 racers – minus Jorg – and realized that we would be back to business as usual: everyone working except one race leader. I felt wonderful after the faux rest day and did more than my share of work, careful not to overdo it. We made great time into camp, many of us quite angry again with a certain rider’s apparent laziness and lack of cooperation.

Camp. In a word: beautiful. Open, grassy lawns along the bank of a river. Beef stew with basmati rice, cold drinks, a shady campsite and a long afternoon nap. If this is what the second half of the tour looks like then I dare say it could be *very* comfortable going. We shall see.

We were informed at our evening rider meeting that we would *not* be riding the entire way into Nairobi. A combination of road works, detours, and heavy traffic volumes deemed such a ride unsafe. For my part, I understand their logic completely. The widely varying abilities of the riders would make protecting everyone impossible and a large, group convoy would become a very dangerous, unpleasant affair. We rode a boat through part of the continent, 50km on a truck isn’t too much different.

Overheard at the campsite:

• “Are you really putting your tent that close to mine?” “Yes I am. It’s time we get intimate”.
• “This is bu*&sh#$! We should be riding into Nairobi.”