Round and round we go

Stage: 49
Day Total: 127km
Total Time: 4:28
Avg. Speed: 28.4km/h
Avg. Heart Rate: 129bpm
Total Climbing: 579m

Song of the Day: Band of Horses – Infinite Arms

It has been written in works of prose and sung in countless songs: All good things must end. To this point, I had ridden my bicycle 48 days and 5500km (3400 miles), much of it at a high level of intensity, and the end of our 3-day rest period came too soon. My body was screaming for this break after having raced 14 of the past 16 days and seemed keen to alert me that 3 days might not be enough. A number of good meals (guacomole bacon cheeseburgers, milkshakes, and chocolate cake at Africafe), a massage, immediate availability of a warm shower, and the ability to sleep “late” treated my body well but my motivation was lacking a bit. This mental struggle was certainly exacerbated by the steady rain falling at the end of rest day #3 and the knowledge that we would face 8 days of consecutive riding before our next rest day in Mbeya, Tanzania. The tour rolls on…

Raindrops thumped the rooftop lightly at daybreak to announce that on this day we would start riding with the absence of sunshine and a new companion. We had opted to spend one last night at the Karama Lodge and were shuttled back to the campground at 6am. This was a strategic move as rains were falling steadily this morning and there would be no need to labor with packing a tent set in soggy ground. Breakfast at the hotel meant that this morning’s pre-ride routine was abbreviated to bottle filling and snack gathering for the day’s journey leaving me ready ahead of schedule with nothing to do. The realities of a wet ride elicited an alarm response from many riders and camp was clear of riders quickly apart from the two Pauls and myself. With all excuses for delay exhausted and no end to the precipitation imminent we rolled out of camp and onto the roads that were now spotted with red mud after heavy rainfall during the night. Oh well, it was only a matter of time before this tour got dirty.

The rains fell intermittently for much of the morning and varied from light to moderately heavy but the lush greeness of the expansive fields flanking the road indicated that any reprieve from rainfall would likely be temporary. This was confirmed at the 40km mark when the road crossed a small river swollen to excess and now raging to the point of overflow. The scene was a stark contrast to our rides six weeks prior through seemingly infinite desert landscapes.

The ride proceeded much like many others over the past days: Paul Specner and myself riding at the front, Paul Wolfe sitting at the back. Monotony can spawn complacency but on this day I decided to make use of my time at the front to scan the horizons for wildlife. We were advised that many zebra would likely be seen; on this day many may as well have meant only one. Alas, there were not many or even one to be seen. We did spot a chameleon lazing on the shoulder of the road but that’s not exactly what I had in mind.

Time seemed to drag on during this ride until we were joined by a group of local cyclists out for a Saturday morning training ride. The testosterone effect generated by a collection of male bike racers can be confirmed as univeral. In one calendar year I have witnessed it on 3 continents. In this case it was a welcome surge to the tempo and while my body voiced its opposition I was happy for the spurts of intensity in hopes that it would shock my legs back into compliance.

We caught a group of other riders at lunch and rode in a relatively happy group for the balance of the day. The rains ceased, the pavement dried, and the sun spoke to us briefly through the clouds. A brief bout of excitement rocked the group like a gunshot at the 120km mark when my rear tire quite literally blew off the rim. This was identical to the episode on the previous race day into Arusha and the report from the explosion echoed through the surrounding trees in identical fashion. Fortunately the tire stayed on the rim and I maintained enough control to stop the bike without incident. Finding no source of the issue within the tire or the rim, we replaced the tube and continued riding. Believing the cause to be a comgination of a failing tube and rough, chip-seal pavement I was relieved when the road ended and was diverted to dirt, leaving the cyclists and pedestrians to make use of the newly asphalted, immaculate road. While cars and trucks suffered in a quagmire of sand and water we cyclists surged ahead on the most beautiful tarmac surface I had ever cycled.

Taking advantage of the smooth surface the bikes accelerated to a steady pace of 38km/h. With this pace we were closing in on our camp quite quickly when I felt a slight uneveness to my progress. Looking down at the road I was confused as to what could be causing the uneven sensation vibrating through my wheel. An answer was delivered five seconds later when I noticed a bulge in the rear tire and fellow rider Horst yelled to alert me that the tire was coming off of the rim… again. Another report echoed through the fileds as the tube exploded violently. I cautiously slowed the bike from 42km/h to a stop and was rewarded by more patinece from the group. Another quick change and we were riding again but I was busily trying to conclude what in the hell was happening to cause these eruptive blowouts.

Camp was made in the middle of small town near (or actually on top of for a select few) a football field. Given it was Saturday it was only a matter of time before a pair of uniformed squads took to the field for their regulary scheduled match. Adaptable and calm, they simply played the game as planned, working around the three tents that were inconveniently positioned in the corner of the pitch. A corner kick was executed mere meters from one rider’s tent but that was the extent of the impact on the competition.

Tomorrow is meant to mark the start of 7 days off mostly off-road riding. From a race perspective, it should shake some things up and provide some needed variety to the monotony that seems to be setting in on the race as a whole. Today’s ride was rather droll and I hope that my predictions are fulfilled.