Round and round we go

Stage: 51
Day Total: 121 km
Total Time: 5:30
Avg. Speed: 24.0 km/h
Avg. Heart Rate: 122bpm
Total Climbing: 780m

Song of the Day: Rush – Tom Sawyer

“Nobody ever measures the weather to make or break your day.”
These words rang true for many during yesterday’s incredible stage that marked the first of 7 off-road stages on the new route through Tanzania. For those riding at the middle of the pack and beyond, the weather transformed the stage into a challenge of note and when all of the trucks arrived they were laden with weary riders who were simply incapable or unwilling to finish the day. Only then did the impact of yesterday’s stage fully measure: nearly every rider needed to wash their bicycle (this meant the hotel ran out of water) and the queues for mechanic support would send some to bed with non-functioning machines. Still reeling from the effort and not willing to risk a replay of yesterday, many would jump on the truck in the morning.

We were told that the road would be better than yesterday and the final 20km would be paved. To the delight of some and the dismay of others it played out much differently. 5km into the stage the road was being prepped for future paving and presented a surface of densely packed, smooth dirt. A 10km section was further along in the process and provided a hard asphalt surface that was smooth and fast. So it goes –
expect one thing and get another. No matter, we are meant to to ride through a game reserve for the next 2 days and I am certain that road will be unpaved.

The vistas and views on this stage were amazing with overcast and dramatically cloudy skies contrasting the bright clusters of green and yellow sunflowers that seemed to be everywhere. The views, not the racing, were the notable feature of the day. Jorg, local rider Mike, and myself rode together for the morning, making a steady – but not blistering pace – to lunch. At one point Jorg flatted and while we waited we were caught by the two Pauls. We overtook them again before lunch and arrived alone.

Nobody seemed to be in a hurry today, but I was keen to simply keep riding and see what the day would bring. I have been growing increasingly tired and bored with riding with the same group of people –
there is no conversation, little cooperation, and we never stop to experience any of the uniqueness that makes this trip so memorable. With that in mind, riding alone seemed like a better option on the afternoon and with a mouthful of food I jumped on my bike and rode away. Fortunately, nobody followed.

The remainder of the ride was relatively plain: immaculately groomed dirt, recently paved roads not yet open for use, and finally, normal paved highways. It felt good to take it all in on my own, varying my pace to get a better look at odd stores, exchange greetings with local residents, and high five some kids. Freedom, now that’s refreshing…

I rolled into camp ahead of the others, managing to take enough time to ensure a stage victory. Given that the results are never announced in camp and the usual 5-day delay to posting them on the internet, and continuous inconsistencies between my GPS-based bike computer and the race clock, this really means little. Enough about that.

Camp was exciting this evening because of the drama created by inclement weather. Rain, very heavy rain, and a little more rain fell just as dinner was served. Careless selection of tent sites turned into frantic yells and frenetic activity as riders attempted to thwart the voluminous flows of water flooding their tents. Some dug trenches, some tried to move their whole tents, and a sad few simply grabbed sleeping bags and electronics before surrendering entirely. UK Paul and I had chosen a high spot of ground between two very obvious flows of water and watched with humor. Better luck next time folks. The current climate suggests you will get an opportunity to redeem yourself soon…