Round and round we go

Stage 31
Day Total: 107km

Today’s ride out of the rest day was fairly uneventful, fortunately, and for the most part was completed at a sensible pace. 14km of convoy to start the day ensured a long warmup and big group once the racing started. Jorg set an early pace, wanting a stage win (a glitch in the timing had me beat him by seconds on stage 29). He took long turns up front on the uphill sections with me pulling on the flats and descents. In the end he was awarded the stage and we had a momentary celebration upon reaching camp.

Camp was in a beautiful clearing framed by low mountains on one side and dense forest on the other. A small herd of cattle moved through after our arrival and the ever present goats bleated their disapproval of our infringement on their grazing space. Well stocked on snacks from the rest day, I spent a good chunk of the afternoon grazing on Mr. Potato crisps (fake Pringles), chocolate cream cookies, peanuts, and energy bars. A very relaxing afternoon capped off by a bit of bike chain/gear cleaning.

The highlight of the day was dinner. Early on I saw them pull the grate off of the back of the truck and start digging a small pit. This always means grilled meat of some form and tonight it was chicken with pineapple, honey, and garlic glaze. Loads of it. So much in fact that I made 3 passes through the line and there was still meat available. I ate the equivalent of 3/4 of a chicken and stashed away a piece for the morning – a protein breakfast always a good idea on this tour.

The sun set and my belly was pleasantly full. One day down, three to go until our next rest day…

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Day Total: NO RIDING

Sleep ended today at 6:30am, our bodies not allowing for any significant deviation from their routines of the past 40 days. Last night’s overpriced dinner at a Lonely Planet featured expat cafe left me feeling a bit hungry – not a surprise – and thus this day began like nearly every other since my arrival on the continent.

The Adot Tina hotel, our little gem of a luxury oasis did not disappoint with its breakfast buffet: scrambled eggs, crepes with bananas and chocolate sauce, fresh bread, pineapple and melons, orange juice, and delicious machiatos. Paul and I grazed for about an hour before sorting out the laundry service outside the hotel. A leisurely machiato and cake with Kendra and we were off on what would prove to be a full day’s adventure.

The objective was simple: retrieve the package sent via DHL by Paul’s mum. Paul worked with the pleasant hotel receptionist to sort out where we needed to go and how to get there. Like that, we were off!

With directions and addresses written in the local language, we hopped in a taxi. It was soon apparent that either he knew not where we were going or simply could not read. The directions indicated a building next to a bus service depot, but instead we went from bus service depot to bus service depot, the fact that we were looking for DHL seemingly lost on him entirely. In frustration we told him to take us to any DHL shipping outlet and we quickly found ourselves at a travel agency that offered DHL services. “Sorry, we can’t help you without the tracking number”. Damn.

I have a mobile phone with a local SIM card for Ethiopia, but we had no credit. What to do? Taxi drivers always have answers in major urban centers. In this case he also had 100 Birr recharge cards for mobile phones. Done and done. Paul called his mom, waking her up at 3am in Atlanta, GA to get the tracking number. Good to go. Back to the travel agency, they indicated we would need to go to an “official” DHL shipping outlet and sent us off to follow one of their employees to this location.

We arrive at this location only to learn that we would need to make at least two more stops: one at a location near the airport to retrieve/complete customs paperwork, the second to the domestic airport terminal to actually retrieve the package. The people at this office were very helpful and told us exactly where to take taxis to and how much it should cost. Their directions assumed the shared mini-bus taxi, and with little to go on, we jumped on one of them. Apparently we needed to go to Magalanes and then to Bole where we could reach the office. Fortunately an enterprising young Ethiopian who loved Manchester United Football sensed we needed assistance and started telling us to follow him and where to go. Two buses later, we arrived at the first of the two DHL offices.

They had the paperwork ready! Unbelievable. 30 minutes later and we had instructions on where to go next. A fellow rider on the same mission showed up shortly after us and a had a taxi driver waiting. The driver agreed to run us to the airport while the fellow rider was waiting so we jumped at this convenience and soon found ourselves at the entrance to the Addis Ababa International airport cargo terminal. I was pretty sure we needed to go to the domestic terminal, but this taxi driver had just spoken with the DHL employees so what the hell, maybe I was wrong. I surrendered my camera to a security employee armed with an AK-47 machine gun certain that I would not get it back, but the mission must continue…

Into a sea of people, a slurry of hopeless questions asked, a few smiles, and somebody was finally sorting us out properly. It turns out that the cargo terminal is for commercial shipments and we did indeed need to go to the domestic terminal. “Wait here” we were told and soon we were ushered into a van full of airport employees. Where were we going? Don’t know. Who was our escort? I think he worked for the airport, and if so I want his work uniform of jeans, t-shirt, and sneakers. 15 minutes later we were in the international terminal, our escort now convincing Paul and myself that he knew nothing of what he was doing. We quickly grabbed the paperwork and made our way back to the parking lot to get a ride to the domestic terminal. Surprisingly the taxi driver wanted $5 USD for a 3-minute trip. Our escort, desperate to hang onto us, negotiated and paid the fare.

Finally arriving at the domestic terminal, only Paul was allowed to enter. The escort was asked a series of difficult questions by the security people and now aware that his entry would be denied, he finally buggered off. Anticipating a maximum 30 minute affair, I sat down at a small eatery setup in the airport parking lot. I waited. Bored, and hungry, I ordered a plate of pasta. I napped. I involved myself in negotiations between a Chinese businessman trying to negotiate transport of his goods to Bahir Dar (our previous rest day location). In the back of my mind I was concerned that we would not reach the laundromat in time for our clothes, but after 2 hours, Paul emerged victorious and ravenously hungry. We celebrated with plates of pasta, realizing that we had no local currency. Fortunately, I had an emergency $100 US bill in my wallet. A quick negotiation on rate and suddenly we had exchanged the money just like that.

Another attempt at taxi fare robbery found us walking out of the airport area and onto the streets to negotiate a better rate. Up against the clock, we had to bit the bullet and get back to our laundry. Success! And clean clothes…

We celebrated with a late afternoon/evening of gorging ourselves: a large pizza and a juice each, followed 3 hours later by double cheesburgers and milkshakes. Not rested, but well fed, we retired to the hotel room to grapple with the newly updated race results. Argh. More questions.

Addis Ababa, I love you for the variety of your food and the quality of your Italian eateries.

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Stage 30
Day Total:
Total Time:
Average Heart Rate:
Average Speed (including lunch stop):

Riding days into rest days are like Thursdays nights for denizens of the corporate world: a bit of a “cheat” for if one chooses, they can have a big night out and manage to get through a usually lighter Friday work day. This would not prove to be the case today.

The pace was manageable in the beginning and there was an unusual amount of chatting amongst the riders in the group. This changed abruptly once the group caught up with two stronger riders Bram A and Bram K. The two Dutchmen are amongst the strongest riders on the tour but opted to stop racing a couple of weeks past. For reasons unknown to me, the two race leaders (Paul and Horst) decided on this day that an ego battle might be appropriate and immediately the pace exploded upward.

Content to hang on, I managed to (just), until the final ascent before lunch. Successive attacks by Horst put a small gap on me that I could not close. I sprinted over the summit with the Brams in pursuit, but would finish the stage some 30 seconds back of UK Paul who sprinted for the win today. Fortunately the race stage ended at lunch as we would have an afternoon convoy into Addis Ababa.

The race over, we rode very peacefully in search of the elusive coffee stop that would net us a delicious machiatto. It simply was not in the cards today and instead we rode to the top of a small hill at 92km on the outskirts of the city. There we would pass the time drinking cold cokes, eating very ordinary cookies, and watching some form of Ethiopian police/military security stop taxi vans and frisk passengers. Eventually the final rider arrived and it was time for the final 10km into our urban campsite. This was not a fun convoy ride. That’s “not fun” in the same way a routine dental filling procedure is not fun. You are conscious for the experience but powerless to alter it. In this case it was a 10km very steep descent at very low speeds that would cramp the forearms and hands. The staff as always did a commendable job controlling traffic and pedestrians and we arrived without incident as a group.

Our plan was to attempt to cram multiple people in a double room at the Sheraton. Cost ($350 USD per night) and logistics killed that idea but fellow rider Kendra saved the day by booking us rooms at a lesser known hotel for a mere fraction of the cost. Very clean rooms, spacious bathrooms with jacuzzi bath, wireless internet, and free breakfast buffet: just what we needed.

Paul and I skipped formalities such as a shower and immediately went in search of food. Serendam’s turned out to be an ultra clean burger stand with great food and amazing fresh fruit juices. Walking back we had cake and a machiatto while scouting out laundry service and places to eat in the coming hours.

Tomorrow is a full rest day with the primary mission being the retrieval of a package sent by Paul’s mum via DHL. It sounds fairly straightforward, but only time will tell.

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Stage 29

There were many fast times posted on yesterday’s Gorge time trial. But at what cost? For my part, my effort was hard but steady with few major deviations, but with the tour’s highest point and more climbing on tap for the day, the lingering hurt from that monster climb was likely to stick with me.

The three race leaders (Paul W., Horst, Paul S.) all set out with myself, Jorg, and Adam in the mix for good measure. Jorg, eager for a stage win and sensing that the unwilligness of others to push today would present him with the opportunity for the win, set a brisk early tempo. The group survived mostly intact through the first major climb of the day, but the second, longer and steeper, quickly sorted the group. Approaching lunch at the top together were myself and the three race leaders. How nice.. Jorg would rejoin our group as we departed lunch and eclipsed the 3100 meter mark For the remainder of the day he and I took turns at the front, the others seemingly content to let somebody do the work and earn the win. In the end, we would let Jorg clock in first, but apparently he was a minute or so quicker departing camp in the morning and by a matter of seconds I had the fastest time. This was not our intention, but such is the nature of the timing system employed for the race. Most have had issues with it, but for their part, the staff seem willing to make things right.

Camp today was at the rim of a massive gorge, presumably a continuation of the same impressive feature we climbed the previous day. The awe-inspiring view was complimented by a troop of baboons making an appearance upon our arrival. Apart from the sloping ground and the presence of a number of lava rocks this was easily the best campground of the trip. Even better was its proximity to a few small hotel and eateries. Into camp so early, Paul, Tori, and myself wasted no time hoofing back to these establishments in an effort to avoid the almost certain swarms of riders that would appear later. These occasions are always a treat – an opportunity to consume food of real sustenance in advance of dinner in 5 hours time. No opportunity wasted we downed 2 plates of pasta each, bread, 2 machiattos, 1 beer, and 2 orange sodas. Nothing like a light snack before supper…

Dinner was very good as usual, the highlight being the mango/pineapple/chili salad. The creativity of the staff with meals is impressive when one considers the length of the trip and the dynamic nature of ingredient availability. A perfect ending to a memorable day.

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Stage 28
Day Total: 90km
Total Time: 1:38:37
Average Speed: 12.3km/h
Average Heart Rate: 161bpm
Maximum Heart Rate: 172bpm
Average Cadence: 88rpm

(The above time and averages are for the 20.25km/1355 meter ascent time trial out of the Gorge)

Falling asleep last night proved challenging: my tent was set on a bit of a slope; my ribs were aggravated; fellow rider Ruth was having a go (verbally) at a handful of male riders with a battery of “F*#K Off” derivatives. Yeah man. Life on tour.

The day kicked off on a high note with a breakfast surprise of scrambled eggs. It’s not so much that you crave the taste of eggs so much as the novelty of consuming something besides grain, peanut butter, or bananas. In all seriousness, quality protein at breakfast, when available, makes a tremendous difference in how you feel on the ride and today was no different.

The only timed section for the day would be the 20.25km hill climb out of the bottom of the Blue Nile Gorge. This meant we could (and did) ride leisurely to the lunch stop at 49km before descending to the bottom of the Gorge. Paul and I set off early and were quickly joined by Meghan. She rode past us and was 30 meters in front when a small group of sheep crossed the road. Unfortunately one of the smallest of the members made some wayward, unpredictable movements and she collided with it. She hit the pavement hard, cracked her helmet, but carried on riding. My father rode with her for a few kilometers when she stopped to vomit, an obvious indicator of a concussion. She would be OK but wisely did not ride the balance of the day.

We ambled along gently and were hailed by Kendra and Steve just 1.5km before lunch. In no hurry, we stopped and joined them for a delicious coffee before hitting the lunch truck. Lunch was crowded, so we moved along quickly to the 20km descent into the bottom of the canyon. The road wound in a serpentine fashion down the walls of the gorge allowing for dynamic vistas and memorable photo opportunities. We stopped a couple of times, but the balance of the descent was spent in total focus as the road was steep, very uneven, and littered with the usual donkey/horse/people carrying large loads on their backs/broken down vehicles. One’s arms screamed from unrelenting use of the brakes.

A bit of cooling off at the bottom, putting on of the headphones, selection of the playlist, and I was off. Not much to say – it was long, steep, hot, and difficult. Interestingly enough however, it felt pretty darn good. The wind punished us at points but rewarded us at others. All in all, it was much like the long, steady climbs back home: Lookout Mountain, Lefthand Canyon to Ward. The 18 and 19th kilometer hurt me a bit, but I carried on and crested the top in 1:39. Timing issues continue to plague the race with a significant number of disputes and discrepancies being noticed. Fortunately for me, the originally reported time of 1:49 was corrected, but it is a bit of a chore to have to manually pour over the results on rest days to ensure your times are accurate. These issues have driven at least 2 racers to quit the race and remain only as expedition riders. Hopefully this will all get ironed out soon.

Camp was in the compound of an international aid organization on the rim of the gorge. We showered up and hiked down to watch the final riders of the day crest the summit. Very, very nice…

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Stage 27
Day Total: 116km
Total Time: 5:14
Avg. Speed: 22.2km/h
Avg. Hear Rate: 132bpm

Song of the Day: Foreigner – Feels Like the First Time

I’m bringing you a bit of a format change for the next few days as I suspect you might be tiring of the mundane detail of the rides day after day. To that end, I will try to include some insights into the happenings in camp. We’ll see how it goes.

The rider meeting last night indicated this was a 107km day with more rolling hills. No mention was made of significant climbing or anything too out of the ordinary – that would come the following day with the 1350+ meter (4500 foot)/20km climb out of the Blue Nile Gorge. All right, then. Ride alone, at my pace, get through the day, and survive the day after. Fair enough.

I rolled out of camp on my own, feeling OK, playing my game, targeting lunch at 60km. I made it to lunch but felt as if I had just climbed to the moon, a quick glance at the Garmin Edge 800 telling me that I had indeed just climbed 897m. Ouch. I took a leisurely lunch, enjoying the view, using the nearby stand of trees to tend to some business, and contemplating the upcoming afternoon. UK Paul, Adam, and the two race leaders came and went. No big deal as it wasn’t a part of my plan today. I took off on my own, continued riding up and down and up and up and up. The kilometers ticked away – I didn’t feel spectacular, but had no off moments which is an improvement. I think it is partly attributable to my decision to not consume peanut butter at lunch. Seems to be working, but maybe it is dumb luck. I feel dumb sometimes so perhaps that is the case… A final twisty descent on pavement put me into the final 4km of the ride. Sweet, no pedaling. Holy mackerel, that pavement rolled as much as my stomach after a stellar bender. I opened the suspension fork just to be safe. Does that make me weak? The final surprise of the day was a 1.5km stretch of gravel and a sharp, steep climb into camp. That hurt a bit, but when does climbing 1700 meters over 107km feel good?

Camp was a real treat. Dubbed “Forest Camp”, we camped in stands of tall pine trees that appeared to have been a part of a reforestation project. At 2600m (8000 feet) elevation, it was cool and the trees created ample shade such that a long afternoon’s nap in the tent was possible. I awoke to the smell of burning wood charcoal and my head confirmed what my stomach hoped: there would be grilled chicken for dinner. I ate 3/4 of a whole chicken while others drank beers (the locals ensuring we had – for a price – everything we wanted). There was a bit of anxiety settling over the camp with the pending time trial tomorrow.

Overheard at camp tonight:
“I’ll ride the truck before I walk up that hill.”

Followed in rapid succession by:
“I won’t walk up that hill unless I shit myself. Given that I rarely cycled 20km in a day before this trip, it could happen.”

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Stage 26
Day Total: 162km
Total Time: 5:59:01
Avg. Speed: 27.2km/h

Song of the Day: Public Enemy – Fight the Power

Coming out of a rest day seems to bring both moments of gratefulness and discomfort. Better rested (for it will be some time before we are fully rested) one is typically more relaxed. On the other hand, the break in the routine can bring on protest from one’s body – most notably the legs – and the going can be rough early on in the ride.

Today’s ride was one of the 12 “Mando” days, 162km (100 miles), and featured some climbing. I intended to ride with the lead group of racers, but another “sniper” flat overnight put me a few minutes behind. Intending to ride with the group on the day, I failed to write down the directions. Thus, I pedaled out of camp only to have to return to the hotel to get some clarification. Fortunately for me, the sweep rider (the rider who rides at the back of the group to pick up or assist any stragglers) was still there and sorted me out. So it goes…

I rode the first 50km alone, setting my own pace, free to enforce my nutritional regimen without pressure from pace or insane tempo. To my surprise, I wasn’t feeling too badly, the illness that plagued me now gone and my strength starting to return. Even more surprising, about 50km into the race I turned around and saw the lead race group. Apparently they were even more directionally challenged than myself and rode an extra 4km. Their mistake was my gain and I rode with them for the final 20km to lunch. The pace was uncomfortable though, and the “good” feeling I had early on vanished. I resolved to simply ride out my day in isolation.

UK Paul was a bit ill on the day, so we let the lead guys leave lunch without us. I headed out on my own and immediately hit the wall. Maybe I hand’t recovered as much as I previously thought? I ambled along for 20km before Paul overtook me. He was encouraging and after about 40 minutes of good effort my life force came back to me and we rode steadily. The countryside was rolling with a few good climbs and lots of kids. We adopted the strategy of waving/greeting each child as we approached with tremendous effect: we were spared rocks or other child-launched projectiles. With steady effort, we gained on some of the group who left lunch before us, and with 15km remaining we were feeling quite good. Paul surged a bit up the final hill and we managed to open up a minute gap on the rest of the field. No great shakes, but minutes matter in an event with so many variables.

Camp was in a wide open clearing circled by stands of trees. In the distance the higher hills/mountains were visible and as the sun set on another wonderful day, the fading light bounced off the tops of the trees with stunning effect. The ususal horde of villagers came to the boundary of our camp, the entrepreneurs amongst them laden with cold beer, Pepsi, and Miranda (orange soda). I opted for a nap in the shade, trying to continue my recovery and rest my body for the efforts of the coming days. 4 more riding days until our rest day in Addis Ababa, including the epic Blue Nile Gorge time trial. The roads are not supposed to be flat, so these 4 days could be quite difficult.

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Day Total: NO RIDING

Song of the Day: Band of Horses – Great Salt Lake

Last night’s party in the hotel bar was a memorable evening. The theme for the event, “Where are you go!?!”, left a large margin for interpretation and the troops did not disappoint. The market area in Bahir Dar made available a wide array of vintage and knock-off clothing, local and indigenous garments, and various festive accouterments suitable for the occasion.

The party started at around 7pm with the majority of attendees in some form of costume. A number of the men arrived with the shoulder blanket/walking stick combination in imitation of the villagers in the countryside. I opted for the consummate tourist costume: a woven woolen cap in the green/red/yellow of Ethiopia and matching scarf. To avoid confusion, the manufacturers of the cap wove the letters E-T-H-I-O-P-I-A
into the cap. Beers were consumed by riders, sturdier drinks by the staff, and because you can never be too prepared for the next riding day, a lot of food was inhaled. The stereo system was commandeered and dancing ensued, though I was too busy with my second bowl of spaghetti bolognaise to partake. By 10:30pm the pretenders – myself included –
called it a night while the most dedicated amongst our ranks took to the local bars to continue the celebration. I blame my failure to participate on my continued recovery.

The rest day officially began with breakfast at the hotel: 2 omelets, 5 pieces of toast, 2 orange juices, a machiatto, and french toast. Back to the room to apply sunscreen and then it was time for more machiattos, 2 amazing mango/avocado blended juices, and 2 pieces of cake. Finally I felt a touch of satiation and we could turn to a bit of tourist business. A quick walk along the shore of the lake and we had a boat arranged to take us to the 14th century monasteries near the lake. The tour was very relaxing – a long boat ride on calm water. The monasteries were quite simple in construction, but the relics, particularly the 500 year old scriptures hand printed on goat skins were a sight to behold. We wrapped up the tour with lunch along the lake. The food was good, but their was significant confusion on the orders and what should have been a pleasant dining experience turned into an exercise in frustration as my growing hunger got the best of me.

We wrapped up the day with another juice and coffee before a final stop at the grocery to stock up on post-ride snacks for the next 5 days of riding. We have 5 days of riding and roughly 560km to Addis Ababa, the Ethiopian capital. We are told there is a fair bit of uphill/climbing in the coming days. Hopefully my body will begin to recover and comply when asked to perform.

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Day Total: 61km
Total Time: 2:13
Avg. Speed: 27.1km/h

Song of the Day: The Beatles – Hard Day’s Night

Sleep was broken repeatedly with a litany of unusual sounds punctuating the anticipated silence of the deep of the night. Bus traffic early on from the nearby road set the tone early. The agonizing sounds of multiple riders being tortured by spells of vomiting carried us through the pre-dawn hours. Local shepherds and farmers marching to work accompanied by song completed the disruptions. Such is life on the tour…

Illness seems to have gripped the camp with roughly 50% of the riders being impacted. The morning pre-ride routines now seem to include a survey by all as to who is feeling well and who not as much. One rider described it as a form of Russian Roulette for him: “I wake up, put a round in the the gastric chamber and give it a spin.” If one is lucky, they are clear of the associated diarrhea and vomiting – at least for a day. I am told that this rampant illness is not altogether uncommon with the heat of the Sudan, general fatigue, and declining hygiene in Ethiopia being the likely culprits. For my part, I seem to have come out of the illness with the rest days in Gondor and looked forward to today’s riding day more as an “active recovery” day with only 61km of riding on the schedule.

I rolled out of camp with most of the other racers and we made good pace early on. A small climb at around 25km told me that I was still very fatigued. A bit of a surge at 30km reminded me that it would be better to concede some time today and take it easy than push hard and fall ill once more. So with little hesitation I sat up and set my own pace into the town of Bahir Dar. Arriving at 9:30am on the day preceding a rest day is effectively the same as having 2 rest days – a real blessing as I am still recovering.

My father opted for the hotel room which means I had a bed to sleep in for the rest day. The town is of medium size and rests on the shores of Lake Tahna. We spent the afternoon enjoying the sunshine and cooler temperatures while sampling (repeatedly) the prolific cafe culture that seems to exist here. Exquisite cafe machiato beverages were consumed alongside freshly blended juice drinks consisting of layers of mango, avocado, and pineapple. These were my favorite for sure, and my body seemed to appreciate the calories and vitamins.

A party is scheduled for later tonight. I’m not 100% clear on the reason, but I think most would agree it is sorely needed. Updates to follow.

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Day Total: 107km
Total Time: 4:36
Avg. Speed: 24.7km/h

Song of the Day: Def Leopard – Love Bites

Today’s ride may have been my favorite of the tour thus far: cool temperatures, no nausea, a bit of climbing, interesting mountain scenery and rock formations. Oh yeah, and I didn’t feel like shite the whole time. That’s a big deal.

We were meant to convoy to the town square this morning to take photos with the students from the school who had received new uniforms. Reality had us rolling the 2km to the town square through heavy donkey/truck/pedestrian/sheep traffic sucking on noxious vehicle exhaust while trying to dodge wheel-wrecking holes in the pavement. That, and the fact that only about 8 of the 80 students who received uniforms turned out for the gathering. What can one do? The ultimate proof that this PR exercise was not aligned with the stars arrived when Tony, the organizer of the school support program, had his bicycle computer stolen off of his bicycle. I’m not sure what the thief would do with such a device. Perhaps you can modify it and turn it into a pacemaker…

A small group formed early consisting of the usual cast of characters: Paul, myself, Jorg. We pulled a few others along, all commenting on how rusty the legs felt after two days of no riding. It was a bit of a struggle, particularly the first rise in the road which left me looking repeatedly at my wheel to see if something was in fact wrong with the rear brake. It was not – I just felt that poorly early on in the ride.

We ambled along through the countryside accompanied by the ever-present “You you you you!” and “Where are you go!?!” of the children. I still marvel at how every single child (and some adults) without fail yells this as you pass by on your bike. What the hell does it mean? Where did they learn it? Do they even know what they are saying? Something tells me I won’t ever know. That said, at least they were peaceful. Others received a few rocks to the back or the bike, but our group only got one. The rider reacted rather explosively, yelling at the child. I told him to calm down and consider himself fortunate – the rock only hit his bike frame and not his body.

The riding was a sharp contrast to our days in Egypt and Sudan with extensive small-scale agriculture, trees, and rolling foothills to the horizon. Large, dramatic rock spires projected out of the hillside in two places and one could draw similarities to the landscape of northern Thailand. I am sure this landscape is even more stunning during their rainy season when the hillsides are green and the riverbeds are at capacity.

The ride featured two medium-sized climbs which our group took at a reasonable pace. No need to push (for me at least). The second of the two was a bit longer and I eased a bit more to avoid exerting myself to any degree – there simply was not a full tank of energy on board. Jorg, Adam and myself stopped at the top to admire the view before committing to the long, swift descent.

We rolled into our camp off of the side of the road and were immediately surrounded by children and livestock once more. A small rope forms the perimeter of the camp and as you walked towards it you were accosted by children and their trademark “You you you you!”. No surprises there. They stood up against the rope perimeter and continually yelled this so I figured I would approach them. I stood there for 10 seconds before they stopped. I was determined to teach them some new words.

I started by waving and saying hello. They all repeated it back to me: “Hello”. We continued with a “How are you?” and a “Nice to meet you”. They seemed to pick it up rather quickly, it sounded great, and they were using the phrases without prompting. Even if used out of context, at least it appeared there would be relief from the You You You death chant. I turned my back to return to my tent and realized the futile quality of my effort as I was hit with a You You You/Money/You You You triple-shot combination. Defeated, I laid down in my tent for the first time during daylight hours and enjoyed a 2 hour nap. I haven’t decided if I will continue my efforts or not – we will have to see how tomorrow goes.

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