Round and round we go

Day Total: 146km
Total Time: 7:05
Avg. Speed: 20.4km/h
Avg. Heart Rate: 105bpm

Song of the Day: Datarock – Amarillion

I knew I would pay for yesterday’s effort. From the first kilometer I had a pretty good idea just what yesterday’s win was going to cost. Ouch. Poor sleep due to serious overnight heat left me less than enthused to face this day and the plan was to just hang on and find a way to stay with the group. That is rarely as easy as it sounds.

300 meters into the ride I realized my bike was not behaving. It seems that the uneven surface of the previous day’s ride jettisoned a fair amount of energy drink onto the underside of my bike where the cable for the gear shifters run. A little water, a quick rub of the jersey and a few choice words and all was functional. Guess I’ll need to clean the bike tonight…

The group consisted of the top 5 riders in the race and one other passenger: fatigue. It seemed to be resting heavily on everyone’s saddle today. Fortunately, the group was inclined to cooperate, alternate time on the front, and basically survive the day (at least until lunch). Well, almost everyone. Race leader Paul Wolfe (PW) has been less than willing to take turns at the front of the bunch. As I alluded to a few days back, this is poor form and simply unacceptable. Given that this behavior has been in place since Egypt and the fact that more recently he has been sitting on my wheel, I was not happy. Fortunately, neither was the group. UK Paul took a 2km pull at the front, followed by myself, followed by Jorg, and then one other rider. PW went to the front, pulled for about 1km, then tried to wave the next rider to the front. UK Paul was having none of that and very vocally reminded PW that everyone else had done 2km and that he would too. So there he stayed, though in a childish act of protest, he dropped his speed 2km per hour. This happened an additional 2 times before Bastiaan – always encouraging and positive – said “You can do it. I know you’re tired. Be a proud race leader.” You can imagine how that was received. Hopefully he is starting to realize that he will have a difficult trip to Cape Town if he continues to be so unwilling to cooperate.

Construction on the road presented us with a choice at 40km into the ride: forge ahead through the signs and ride the paved-but-not-open-to-the-public road, or, alternatively, obey the signs and ride the official “diversion” route. We opted for the former and were quite happy until the road ended abruptly at a dry riverbed. The ride became more like a cyclocross event and we hopped off the bikes to hike the banks. On the other side was a coke stop and without hesitation I led the group in that direction. Fortunately they followed. This may well have been the busiest coke stop of the trip as I counted 28 bikes there when we left. I sucked down an orange Fanta and we then shared a coke with one of the members of the local Samburu tribe ornately dressed in full traditional regalia. He was all smiles at this unexpected treat.

We arrived at lunch and immediately received some disturbing news: a rider had been mugged, gunshots were fired, rocks were thrown. The calls continued to come in on the satellite phone, the facts a bit confused at this point. Three minutes later we were told a rider had been shot. Five minutes later we were told that nobody had been shot. In the moment, Paul Spencer suggested that we cancel the race for the day so that we could all ride together for the remainder of the day. Presumably this would be increase safety.

We left lunch to continue the ride, however, the updates continued to roll into the lunch truck. The situation was very critical: a total of 6 riders had been accosted at gunpoint in two separate incidents. The staff made swift, prudent decisions and ordered people nearest to the incident on the road onto the trucks to quickly drive them to safety. Riders arriving at lunch were given the option to take the truck to camp with no impact on their EFI status. The necessary security forces were notified and within 10km out of lunch we already saw two truckloads of armed soldiers. Kudos to the staff – they executed their contingency plans flawlessly and delivered everyone safely. I won’t go into any great detail on the incident as I was not involved and do not think it adds anything to the pleasure one derives from reading this blog.

The remainder of the ride was a slow, somber affair. Lost in thought, I pedaled onward to camp, scanning the horizon for wildlife after learning that two separate groups of giraffe had crossed the road. I saw 5 ostrich which only made me hungry… As we neared camp at the Rangelands Hotel, Paul Spencer pointed out a car wash on the right. Maybe *I* wouldn’t be washing the bike, but somebody else could. Camp appeared just 1km later which sealed the deal – we would walk back for the bike wash. At $0.80 USD, a steal. Problem solved and the end result was fantastic.

On the whole, not a pleasant day. Fortunately all affected seem to be doing OK. Tomorrow’s ride is to the small town of Nanyuki, just 2km from the equator. There is talk of a swimming pool at the hotel. Can you imagine…