Round and round we go

First a quick introduction…my name is Bryon Thornburgh and I am a friend of Scott’s who is helping him keep his blog updated throughout his ride.  In addition to this blog I am updating a Facebook page dedicated to Scott’s epic adventure (http://www.facebook.com/pages/Scott-DeMoss-Tour-d-Afrique-Page/168024533242137).

I talked to Scott yesterday morning (my time) and they were weighing in their bags (there is a strict 100 lbs. weight limit for their bags).  Scott sounded excited and nervous about what was ahead of him.  He said he had been very busy in Cario with last minute preparations and some sight seeing.

Scott has with him a SPOT GPS Messenger (http://www.findmespot.com/en/) which will allow him to check-in each day following that day’s leg.  I received Scott’s first check-in at 6:30am MT today with a brief message saying ‘I made it to the next camp. Hope to talk to you soon!’.  I’m assuming the ‘hope to talk to you soon’ message was for Torrey and not me   Day 1 was an 83 mile leg from Cairo out into the desert.  Here is a link to Scott’s check-in:

http://fms.ws/45gEm/29.69268/32.15353

After a rather rough night’s sleep I crushed the complimentary breakfast buffet in a manner that suggests my mind is subconsciously telling my body “hey man, this guy is going to try to kill you starting at the end of the week”. Time will tell if there is any truth to that. The food was a mix of very fresh vegetables, local breads, beans, vermicelli with milk, and more traditional breakfast fare. The tomatoes were particularly good so I made sure to eat them with reckless abandon.

Breakfast was shared with a few fellow riders – Tori from Canada, Christian from Norway, and Megan from various places in the US. Both are very seasoned riders, particularly Megan who at only 22 has already completed 3 cross-country tours in the US. Not much to say to that other than I hope my relative inexperience is somehow some type of blessing in disguise. At the conclusion of breakfast we had a game plan for sorting out local mobile phone service. It did not go according to plan, reminiscent of some of my experiences in my job, but unlike work, this bit of adversity yielded some nice memories.

We set out on foot, walking down the dry dirt road parallel to the hotel. After 15 minutes of walking it was clear there was nothing resembling a center of commerce anywhere near us so we backtracked and headed down a side street leading into a “neighborhood”. By street I mean dirt track, and by ‘hood, I really mean a collection of multi-story, partially-completed buildings. As we headed deeper into this area, there were increasingly greater numbers of people, and it was not long before we were greeted by the locals with a few blank stares and a lot of smiles.

After 5 minutes, a small contingency was sent forth to understand our attentions. Their hostility was disarming:

Local youth (a.k.a tour guides in training)

The guy on the left would prove to be the godfather of this group and made sure that I knew the names of all of his crew. This meet-and-greet process entailed him asking my name, awaiting my answer, repeating my name, then telling me the name of one of his friends. Rachman (his name) will likely go on to be mayor of this small barrio.

The frenzy and vigor with which we were greeted was nothing short of wonderful. Amidst this unpolished area of urban residence, we were greeted warmly by so many and it wasn’t long before a small cadre of children were walking behind us yelling “hello” and giggling wildly when we turned around to wave.

Len (my father) greeting the local children

Upon reaching the heart of the neighborhood we encountered lively merchants selling nearly anything a local would need: fresh vegetables, meats, livestock, and clothing. Loads of fresh mackerel, tilapia, and catfish rounded out the offering as fresh fish. The merchants were very motivated to sells us something. This guy thought perhaps we would change our minds if he waved his goods directly in our faces to prove their freshness:

Neighborhood Fishmonger

We spent nearly an hour walking up and down the streets taking in the energy of this bustling community. Some additional highlights:

Waiting to be eaten, or hoping for a haircut?

My arrival Monday evening in Cairo was quite uneventful. The lack of signs held me up slightly as I tried to crack the code on the correct process for obtaining a visa and clearing customs. I used the herd mentality and followed the crowd – $15 later (or maybe it was 15 Egyptian pounds) and I had a nice sticker which you end up applying yourself. Upon arrival at baggage claim, life was good as my bags were already pulled off of the luggage carousel and waiting for me (Premier Exec – yeah!). The nicest surprise was the condition of the bicycle – not a scratch on the box and it was never opened by TSA. A nice start for sure.

My father was waiting for me in the terminal as he had accompanied his friend Colin whose trip was ending that day to the airport. After some serious haggling – a hint of what seems to the be the norm in and around Cairo – we were off and rolling gangster style in a nice minivan. I say gangster because we were treated to some old school gangster rap on the way to the hotel and the way the guy drove would be considered criminal in most countries. We darted to and fro while accelerating and changing lanes with incredible precision. As it was dark, there wasn’t much to see except for the many billboards for the new expat community somewhere in the city.

Our hotel is located in Giza and is called a “resort”. Its layout resembles that of a sultan’s palace – gigantic centralized swimming pool lined with palm trees and surrounded by outlying buildings housing the guest rooms. Not bad, but as it was dark I couldn’t see much.

Off to bed for now – I’m sure there will be much to see on the first full day in the city of the kings…

I am sitting in the exit row of a very old 737 aircraft. Two things strike me as immeditely remarkable about this. First, the in-flight map indicates we are now flying over Sarajevo on a trajecotry for Greece. There’s a lot of history beneath me. Second, when was smoking on airplanes reinstated? Seriously, it’s really happening. For a brief moment that odor coupled with the color schemes and patterns on the upholstery had me convinced it was 1978. Fortunately a man clad head-to-toe in black technical, outdoor clothing is gesturing overtly on his iPad to help me decipher the actual year in which I am writing this. Or is he a mime? He is rather pale and keeps tapping that glass screen as if he’s trying to break out of an invisible glass house…

Flying seems to be hit-or-miss affair. Fly first class and it’s a decent way to get around, even for somebody as tall as I am. Anything else – with the possible exception of the exit rows on certain planes – and it borders on unpleasant. I liked the new Airbus plane that zipped me from Chicago to Munich: a very quiet, modern interior; very comfortable seats; a plethora of in-flight entertainment options. The plane even had bathrooms on a lower level where you could move about and stretch your legs. That turned out to be a good thing because the spacing of the seats on that plane is absurd. I’m talking Hobbit-sized absurd which meant rather than having my own seat it felt as if I shared one with the gentleman next to me. I was also subjected to some new form of in-flight torture every time the person in front me reclined their seat. Think sharp plastic edge razoring into your shin.

All was not lost however. A 1-hour layover in Munich meant time for a beer and the genesys of a new photo series for documenting my travels. Including airport layovers, I will visit 12 nations on this tour and intend to drink a beer in each, photographing the occasion. Maybe I can sell it to the US Postal Service for inclusion on a series of stamps. Failing that, I’m sure we can composite the 12 images into something that the JC Penny photo studio would be keen to use for a portrait background. Afterall, they did discontinue the classic 80’s background incorporating neon pink and blue laser beams…

Had I the time to obsess over preparations for this trip, life might have been very stressful during my final days in Denver. Instead, I was so very busy wrapping up things at work and home that a series of distressing events translated into something to laugh about and some new equipment.

3 Days to Departure

I had spent the previous weekend meticulously organizing all of the gear required for this undertaking. Some of it I already owned and simply needed to re-pack and/or clean it. Other bits were new and needed to be removed from their packaging and incorporated into the growing pile. All of this effort turned out to be time well spent and the final days appeared to be organizing them into simple tasks such as purchasing personal hygeine and first aid items to suit my needs.My father had suggested treating my tent with long-lasting bug repellent called permethrin. Various accounts suggested this really worked, and given the time that would be spent in malaria endemic areas it seemed like a great idea. The weather was very favorable – particularly for January – and Torrey offered to take care of this on my behalf. She called later that afternoon, presumably to report her overwhelming success. Instead the voice I heard was clearly distressed and anxious – like a 1950’s housewife whose casserole stayed in the oven too long. Apparently one of the tent poles had snapped in half when she was assembling it for treatment. I laughed into the phone at the irony of this, particularly because I voiced this very concern to my colleague only days before. The tent is 4 years old and I had some doubt about its ability to hold up to 120 consecutive days of use. The outfitters (REI)  was more than willing to replace it at  no charge, even going so far as to tell Torrey to “calm down, we will take care of it”.
NET GAIN: 1 new tent likely to fair very well during this trip.
BONUS: The priceless opportunity to look completely inept in front of 60 hearty strangers as you figure out how to assemble this tent for the first time. So much for downplaying the Chevy Chase American stereotype.

2 Days to Departure

Admittedly I awoke to start this day with some serious excitement. One more day in the office and then 130+ days of “vacation”. Sounds great and I know it will be. However, the reality of being professionally motivated imposes a certain tax on such leaves of absence and I knew that today, proverbially speaking, I would “give at the office”.  The day was full of final bits of knowledge transfer, goal planning, and final guidance on technical directions that allowed no respite even for good-byes. There was also the last-minute Benny Hill like escapade of sourcing sufficient malaria prophylaxis – turns out my healthcare provider likes to deal in misinformation and no store in Denver keeps even a 2-month supply. In the end, the people at the Target store pharmacy got creative and coupled with 11 pills that my manager provided, I ended the day with sufficient protection.
1 Day to Departure

Spent the morning re-working the packing arrangement. Using a luggage scale (thanks Dad!) I was able to put some extra supplements and snacks into the bags and still stay under the weight limit of 100 pounds.  Torrey and I ran a few errands to pick up a couple of last-minute items and enjoyed a late lunch at Proto’s Pizza. After taking a pizza tour in NYC (scottspizzatours.com – simply the best), I don’t eat pizza the same way anymore. This meal holds its own against the best.We headed home to tackle the task of packing up the bike. Given the amount of travel I’ve done with my bike over the past 18 months, this was a very straightforward task. It was wrapped and boxed in about an hour and then it was time to get ready for the night’s planned going-away festivities: the Denver Brews Cruise.The beer tour was exceptional. Myself, Torrey, and ten friends met our guide who then proceeded to shuttle us around town giving us access to the production areas and tasting rooms of some of Denver’s finest micro-breweries. Drank too much beer, but hey, you have to take it when you can get it, and I won’t have access to this stuff for the forseeable future. It also turns out that good-byes are a bit easier if you’ve had a few beers.

Departure Day

I woke up early which has been the norm for the past 2 months for reasons I cannot understand. This day was a bit more special as it had snowed overnight and was continuing to do so with increasing effect. After taking care of some administrative tasks, I had a second look at the bike box and decided to reinforce it in a few posts to be safe. This was more for the sake of having somethng to do as the growing apprehension and sadness of being away from Torrey for so many days had taken firm hold. I’ll spare you the details, but suffice it to say that I had a lot of doubt that morning about whether or not it was the right thing to be doing. She was fully supportive, and it seemed between that moment and the time I would head to the gate at the airport that the two of us would swap roles repeatedly.

I write this part because I think it is important for everyone to know how much she means to me and that even the prospect of a magnificent adventure does  little to drown out such emotions and the initial sadness of leaving her behind. That said, I know have her support, and if I’m honest, I think she would be quite angry if I didn’t enjoy myself to the max. So pour the beer and embrace the fear. It’s time to go.

Thank you for taking the time to see what we have going on here. Some recent technical challenges with the previous hosting provider have necessitated this move to wordpress.com (very happy thus far). That said, much of the content previously created is still being “migrated” here. Stay tuned.